lovey

twenty three

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

23 , 𝐡𝐢 𝐢’𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐲. 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔.*:･･:*.ೃ࿔.⋆❀°

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 , 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲

[cowboylikemunson]

the munson trailer living room/kitchen, my beloved <3

i KNOW that naps on that couch slap and that heated up canned food made in that kitchen tastes like heaven (the food is made by wayne, eddie cant cook. not even food from a can)

i also can exactly picture eddie sitting at that chair talking on the phone for HOURS, to the point where wayne has to throw a slipper at him from his spot on the couch to get him to hang up

[sheneedsrocknroll92]

Not my house but I know my way around

[blvdblues]

Everything Left Unsaid

Pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader, platonic!steve harrington x reader

Summary: Set in the early episodes of season four, Hawkins thinks Eddie Munson killed Chrissy Cunningham. You, his best friend for almost a decade, don’t.

So when Steve Harrington offers to help you search for him, you don’t hesitate, you just start driving. 

By the time you find Eddie, he’s scared, and half-convinced no one will believe him. By the time you get him back in the car, he’s asleep against you. Somewhere between the search and the silence of the drive home, you tell Steve Harrington everything you’ve never been able to tell Eddie Munson, the boy you are convinced doesn’t love you back.

Oh, and also, you’re leaving Hawkins soon. How could you ever tell him that?

Word count: 7k

Tags: fix-it fic, major yearning, best friends, angst and feels, idiots in love, our girl is going THROUGH it, no use of y/n, unrequited love, or is it really unrequited love?

a/n: hello jq fandom i have recently become an active participant here and i'm loving it. anyway, please enjoy this word vomit full of angst and feels. i think this was the fastest fic i've written in a while lol.

You had always imagined you’d leave Hawkins eventually. Everyone did, didn’t they? Graduate, pack their life into a few cardboard boxes, and chase something bigger than a town where everybody knows everyone else.

It was why you worked almost every day you could, splitting your time between Family Video and whatever odd jobs you could find to save enough money for university. It was practical. Necessary. Between everything that happened with your job at Starcourt mall and the Upside Down, this was definitely a preferable option.

The only problem was Eddie Munson.

Eddie, who you’d known since your time at Hawkins middle and have been friends with ever since.

Eddie, who’d become your best friend long before either of you had figured out who you wanted to be.

Eddie, who you were immensely in love with, and who made leaving Hawkins feel less exciting than it was supposed to be.

Well, that was a conversation for another time. Currently, you are clocking into another shift at Family Video, trying not to lose your mind at how the fluorescent lights hummed overhead with the same commitment they'd had every shift you'd worked there. Somewhere near the back of the store, the television mounted in the corner played a movie trailer on a loop. You'd stopped registering which one sometime last week. 

You slid another cassette into its place on the shelf, straightening the row more out of habit than necessity. 

Three copies of The Goonies.

Two copies of Ghostbusters.

One copy of A Nightmare on Elm Street  that somebody had somehow managed to return with what looked suspiciously like barbecue sauce on the case.

You frowned at it.

“...I’m not paid enough for this.”

Steve looked up from behind the counter, where he was pretending to alphabetize returned tapes. “You’ve been holding the same movie for like, five minutes.”

You purse your lips. “I was thinking.”

“You looked confused.”

“I can do both.”

“Hm.”

He reaches behind the counter for the bottle of cleaner and hands it to you. “For the barbecue sauce.”

You sigh dramatically, already unscrewing the cap. “I swear, people treat these things like dinner trays.”

“Maybe they got hungry during movie night?”

“They could’ve at least picked a better movie.”

“It was A Nightmare on Elm Street.” 

“Exactly.” You huff.

He laughs under his breath, shaking his head as he wanders back toward the shelves. Mornings were usually slow enough that the two of you ended up inventing conversations just to pass the time. Robin would've happily contributed another dozen opinions to the discussion, most of them louder than necessary, but she wasn't due in until later that afternoon. 

Not that Steve seemed particularly bothered. He was remarkably good company once you’d gotten past the hair.

A year ago, if someone had told you that Steve Harrington would become one of your favourite coworkers, you probably would've laughed in their face. Back then, he'd just been Hawkins High's former golden boy, the kind of person who seemed to exist in an entirely different orbit from people like you.

Funny how life worked.

Now the biggest argument the two of you had on any given shift was whether the comedy section should be organized alphabetically or by how likely a movie was to make someone actually laugh. 

“You moved Caddyshack again.” You comment.

“It belongs over there.” Steve responded.

“It belongs where it’s always been.”

“It belongs where people can find it.” He crosses his arms, and continues, “They know the alphabet.”

“You, my friend, have a lot of faith in the general public.”

He laughs at that. “That’s fair.”

By now, the shift had settled into its usual rhythm. The lunch rush had come and gone with little excitement beyond a customer insisting she'd returned a tape that very much hadn't been returned, and the store had slipped back into the comfortable sort of quiet that made the hours blur together. There wasn't much left to do besides straighten shelves, reshelve returns, and find increasingly creative ways to complain about both. 

Steve nudged another tape into place before glancing over at you. “You seeing Munson later?”

You looked up from the stack of returns in your arms. “Probably.”

“Probably?”

“He mentioned wanting to stop by after Hellfire.” You tap your fingers on the counter, trying to remember if he had said anything else.

“So that’s a yes?”

“It depends.”

Steve tilts his head to the side. “On?”

“Whether he remembers to actually tell me when Hellfire ends.”

He snorted. “You really think he’d forget?”

You gave him a look as you slid another cassette onto the shelf before adding, “Last week he got halfway across town before remembering we’d made plans.”

“What happened then?”

“He showed up at my house twenty minutes later with gas station candy as an apology.”

Steve laughed. “Did it work?”

“I accepted the candy.” You shrug.

“And?”

“I told him he was still an idiot.”

He hums. “I’m guessing he agreed.”

“He said I couldn’t call him an idiot while eating the gummy bears he bought me.”

“That was actually a decent argument.” He comments, rearranging even more cassettes next to you.

“I know. It was annoying.”

He shook his head with a smile, reaching for another tape. “You guys are weird.”

You smile. “So I’ve been told.”

“You’ve known each other for too long.”

“Nine years will do that.” 

There wasn’t much else to say after that.

Some friendships reached a point where making plans wasn't really making plans anymore. You saw each other because you always had. 

Sometimes Eddie would show up on your porch with a new cassette tucked under his arm, insisting that you absolutely had to hear the latest song he'd discovered. Other times you'd wander over to the trailer after work with takeout balanced in one hand, knowing Wayne would insist you stay for dinner anyway. 

It had never required much thought. It was simply what the two of you did.

Steve reached beneath the counter for another stack of returned tapes before pausing, his attention drifting toward the front windows, hearing murmurs of people talking about Eddie himself.

“Huh.” 

You didn’t bother looking up.

“What?”

He squinted out into the parking lot. “Speak of the devil…”

Your head lifted almost immediately. “What?”

For the briefest moment, your brain supplied the obvious answer. Eddie.

Maybe he'd gotten out of Hellfire early. Maybe he'd decided to surprise you. Maybe he'd wandered over because he'd been bored and wanted someone to listen to him complain about freshmen who couldn't remember the rules of Dungeons & Dragons. 

You turned toward the entrance.

Instead, two police cruisers sped past the storefront, lights flashing silently through the glass before the sirens caught up a heartbeat later. 

They weren’t slowing down. If anything, they seemed to be accelerating.

Steve frowned. “...Well, that’s never a good sign.”

You watched them disappear down the road, another patrol car following close behind. For a moment, the store fell strangely quiet. Even the customer flipping through the new releases glanced toward the windows. 

“What the hell happened?” Steve murmured.

You shrugged, though something about the sight left an uncomfortable weight settling in your stomach. Hawkins wasn't exactly immune to strange things anymore. Still… that was a lot of police cars.

Then, the bell above the door jingled so hard it nearly bounced off its hinges. A woman hurried inside, breathing a little too quickly, clutching her purse against her side. 

She barely looked at either of you.

“Can you believe it?” she asked, though she wasn’t really asking anyone in particular. “They’re saying someone killed that Cunninghan girl.”

Steve straightened. “...What?”

The woman lowered her voice, though there was no one else in the aisle to overhear. “That Munson boy.” She shook her head, already making her way toward the horror section. “I always knew there was something wrong with him. All that devil worshipping nonsense, and now this? Doesn't surprise me one bit.”

“No.”

The word left your mouth before you’d even realized you were speaking.

The woman looked over. “What?”

You slowly slid the cassette back to the return bin instead. “He didn’t.”

There wasn’t any hesitation, just quiet certainty. 

The woman blinked. “Excuse me?’

“He didn’t kill anyone. There’s no way.” 

She gave you an odd look, the kind people reserved for someone they thought was too naïve for their own good. “Well, that’s not what they’re saying.”

“I don’t care what they’re saying.” Your voice remained even. “He didn’t do it.”

Steve looked over at you, considering redirecting the woman away to one of the aisles before this escalated. You sounded completely sure, like someone insisting that the sky wasn’t green. Like it wasn’t even up for discussion.

The woman scoffed softly. “You know him?”

“More than anyone.” You say quietly, softly, almost to yourself.

She simply shrugged, muttering something about people never really knowing anyone, before disappearing farther down the aisle in search of whatever movie she'd come in for.

After she was out of earshot, you dragged Steve towards the staff backroom and closed the door.

“I need to go.” 

Steve blinked. “What?”

“I need to find him, Steve.”

“You—you mean, right now?”

You were already gathering your things up, reaching for your jacket. “If he didn’t do this, then he’s scared.”

“And if he did—”

“He didn’t.” The certainty in your voice hadn’t changed. It hadn’t even cracked.

Steve watched as you shrugged into your jacket, already digging through your bag for your car keys.

“I just… I need you to cover for me.”

He frowned. “For how long?”

“An hour.” You hesitated. “Maybe two?”

“You seriously think you’re gonna find him that fast?” He crosses his arms, doubtful.

“I don’t know.” You looked toward the front windows. “But I have to try.”

Steve studied you for a long moment before letting out a quiet sigh. “Go. I’ve got the store.”

“You sure?”

He says your name, “nothing I can say is going to convince you to stay, anyway.”

You give him a grateful smile. “I owe you.”

You were already halfway out the door before he could respond.

Naturally, the first place you checked was his trailer.

Naturally, it was empty. Wayne wasn't home either, his truck absent from the driveway, leaving only an uncomfortable stillness behind that settled in your chest the moment you climbed back into your car.

From there, the afternoon blurred into a string of familiar roads and increasingly familiar disappointment. Gareth hadn't seen him. Jeff hadn't answered. Every place Eddie had ever wandered off to when he needed space—the old picnic table overlooking the quarry, the stretch of woods you'd claimed as your own in middle school, the abandoned clearing where he'd once insisted would make an excellent Dungeons & Dragons battlefield, stood exactly as you'd left them, untouched and painfully empty. 

By the time the sun began sinking behind the trees, you were running on little more than stubbornness. You'd driven the same roads twice, doubled back to places you'd already checked because maybe you'd somehow missed him the first time, and slowed your car every time you spotted someone with long, dark hair walking in the distance. 

Every dead end tightened the knot in your stomach a little more. Eddie had always been surprisingly easy to find. Nine years of friendship had taught you how he thought, where he went when life became too loud, which hiding places he preferred when he wanted the world to leave him alone. 

For the first time since you'd met him, none of that knowledge seemed to matter. 

By the time you pulled into the empty parking lot of a gas station to collect yourself, the sky had darkened completely.

The streetlights flickered on one by one, buzzing softly in the growing dark. The store itself was closed, windows reflecting nothing but your own tired expression back at you. For a moment, you just sat there with the engine still running, hands resting loosely on the steering wheel, like if you stayed still long enough, the day might eventually make sense again. 

You exhaled slowly, reaching over to kill the engine. 

For a second, you didn’t move. Then you pushed open the car door and stepped into the cold air, the pavement crunching faintly beneath your shoes as you made your way toward the payphone mounted against the side of the building. 

You dug your change into the payphone and dialed the only number you could think of. 

Steve answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

For a moment, you didn’t answer.

The line crackled faintly in your ear, Steve’s voice distant in a way that made everything feel slightly unreal, like you were talking to someone on the other side of something much bigger than a phone call. 

“Hello? Is anybody there?” He tries again.

You swallowed. “Yeah,” you said finally. “I’m here.”

A pause. Then immediately, “Did you find him?”

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was just Steve, cutting straight through whatever hesitation you were trying to build around yourself. 

You close your eyes for a second. “No.”

Silence on the other end. It stretched longer than it should have.

“Okay,” Steve said slowly. “Okay, where are you?

“I—” You glanced back towards your car, as if the answer might be written there. “I’m at a gas station. I just… I needed to call you.”

“Alright”, he said. “Talk to me. What happened?”

You let out a quiet breath through your nose, shifting your weight slightly as you leaned against the payphone booth. 

“I checked everywhere,” you said. “His trailer. Wayne’s not even home. Jeff hasn’t seen him. Gareth hasn’t seen him either.”

Steve didn’t interrupt.

“I went to all the places he usually goes when he wants to disappear for a bit. The quarry, the woods, the old picnic table, everywhere. He’s not there, Steve.” 

“Okay,” he said again. “Okay. But listen to me, did you check anywhere else?”

You frowned slightly. “What do you mean, anywhere else?”

“I don’t know. You said he plays in a band? Where does he usually play?”

“Um… the hideout? It’s the only place I could think of. He’s not there. I tried his bandmates too, no luck.” You sigh.

“Okay,” Steve said, quieter now. “So not the band.”

“No.”

Then, a little more uncertain this time, “You said he deals, right…?”

“I really don’t know how that is relevant to any of this, Steve—wait!” 

It was something you’d heard before, a half-listened-to conversation, Eddie brushing things off with jokes and vague comments about people he knew, places he went when Wayne was working late or when he needed to get… 

Steve panics. “Huh? What’s up? Are you okay?

“No, no, it’s just… I know where he is. I know where he gets his drugs. He told me once in passing.” You take a slow breath, then continue, “No else knows about that place. It’s perfect, Steve.”

“Where?”

You hesitated. “Steve, I—”

“No,” he cuts in, quicker now. “Where are you going?”

You sigh. “Reefer Rick’s,” you said finally. The name landed heavier than you expected.

“...You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

A longer silence this time. Then, “I’m coming.”

You blink. “What? No—Steve, it’s fine, I’ve got it.”

“You’re going to a random guy’s house in the middle of nowhere at night after the entire town just decided Eddie Munson is a murderer.”

“That’s not—”

“I don’t care what you think it is,” he said, voice firm now in a way you didn’t hear often from him. “I’m coming with you.” 

You tightened your grip on the receiver. “Steve—”

“Do not argue with me on this,” he added, a little sharper. Then, softer, like he realized it. “Just… don’t. Okay?” 

“Fine,” you said quietly.

“Good. Where are you now?”

The sound of an engine cut through the quiet before you saw him. 

Steve’s car pulled into the lot a little faster than necessary, tires crunching against gravel as he swung into the space beside you. The headlights washed over the side of the building before dipping down.

He was out of the car almost immediately. 

“Get in,” he said.

You blinked at him. “What about my car—”

“We’ll deal with that later. Please, just get in the car.”

You hesitated for half a second longer before slipping into the passenger seat. 

Steve didn’t waste time getting back in either. The engine was running again almost immediately, the car shifting into reverse as he pulled out of the lot with more focus than his usual driving allowed. 

For a few seconds, neither of you spoke. 

The road ahead stretched out in long, empty lines under the streetlights. “You okay?” Steve asked.

You let out a quiet breath. “I don’t know.”

He nodded once, like that was enough of an answer for now. “Where exactly are we going?”

“North,” you said. “Off the main road. I’ll tell you when we’re closer.”

“You’re really sure about this?” he asked after a while.

“No,” you said honestly.

A pause. Then, Steve gave a short nod. “Cool,” he said. “Me neither.”

The further you drove, the quieter the world seemed to get.

Streetlights grew sparse, then inconsistent, leaving the road to stretch out in uneven patches of darkness broken only by Steve’s headlights. The trees on either side thickened as you left the main road behind, branches leaning in closer like they were listening. 

Steve slowed instinctively.

“...This is definitely the ‘middle of nowhere’ part of town,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” you said.

He sighs. “Last chance. You’re sure about this place, yeah?” he asked.

You didn’t answer immediately. Not because you weren’t sure where you were going. You were. Just not about what you were going to find when you got inside.

“It’s where he goes,” you said finally.

The road dipped, narrowing as it turned off the main stretch entirely. The headlights caught on a leaning mailbox, half swallowed by overgrown grass, then on a faded driveway that looked more like a suggestion than an actual path. 

You sat up a little straighter. “Here.”

Steve stopped the car. “...This is it?”

You nodded.

He parked a little further back than necessary. Smartly.

Then, he cuts the engine.

The silence outside the car felt heavier than it had in the main roads. Out here, even the night seemed louder. Crickets, distant wind through trees, the faint creak of something you couldn’t see. 

Steve looked at the house. “This is where your criminally accused friend hangs out?”

“He’s not—” you started automatically, then stopped yourself. “Just… come on.” You opened the door, and Steve followed a second later.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he rounded the front of the car. “Stay close, okay?” 

You gave him a look. “I’m not gonna wander off.”

“I didn’t say you would,” he said. Then, after a pause, “I just meant… don’t do anything heroic.” 

You both stood there for a second longer, staring at the house like it might decide to explain itself. 

“Wait!” Steve said, and you startle at the sudden noise.

“Don’t do that.” You scold him. You watched as he grabs something from the back trunk, and closes it.

You sigh as you see what he’s pulling out. “What, you just keep that in your trunk all the time?”

He closes the trunk and brings his oar toward you. “Yeah.” He shrugs.

The house sat further back than you expected, half-hidden by tangled trees and the kind of darkness that felt thicker the nearer you got to it. Even Steve’s usual confidence seemed to falter a little as he eased off the gas, the headlights cutting a narrow path through the yard before the car finally rolled to a cautious stop. 

You didn’t get far before Steve stopped again. “Hold on.”

You turned back toward him. “What?”

He was already scanning the yard, eyes narrowing as he took in the shape of the porch, the sagging boards, the uneven line of the steps. “This place is… weirdly quiet.”

“It’s abandoned,” you said.

“Yeah, but like—too abandoned.” 

You brush him off, continuing to walk towards the house. “What does that even mean?” You mutter under your breath.

You followed more out of instinct than anything else, shoes crunching softly against dry grass and scattered debris. 

“Hello?” Steve called out, voice awkward but firm. “Anyone here?”

You knock on the doors, the windows—everything. “Eds? It’s me. Are you inside?”

You sigh, trying again. “Eddie? We just want to talk, I promise! We’re worried sick. If you’re there, come out!” You call out.

Then, “Please?” You say, voice so soft and desperate that even Steve was startled at the tone.

After a few more attempts of calling his name out and not hearing anything back, Steve starts to give up. He calls out your name, “He’s not here.”

You sigh. “Are you sure? I mean, what if he’s just scared?” You whisper.

“He trusts you. There’s no way he’d be scared if it was you.” He tells you, already heading back to his car.

The second you thought to follow him, you both heard something rustling inside of the house.

The way Steve’s head snapped back toward the house was almost comical. You were convinced you could hear something snap. He calls out your name, again, sounding frantic. “Okay, okay, that was a sound. A sound that we both didn’t make.”

You rushed inside, forcing the door open and began your search around the house. Steve crouched slightly near the side, lifting a few planks out of the way. When he doesn’t find anything, he pokes his oar toward literally everything else inside.

You looked at him, brows furrowing. “Don’t do that.”

He gives you a look that says ‘I’ll do what I want.’

You sigh. He nudged at a pile of old tarps and scrap wood, and still nothing.

Then, a movement. So fast you almost didn’t register it as real.

The tarp bursts upward—you’re pretty sure that tarps don’t do that on their own. Steve barely had time to turn before someone slammed into him from the front, knocking him towards the wall with a shout. 

“HEY!” A flash of metal appeared—okay, that’s a gun.

Steve made a strangled, very undignified noise and immediately threw his hands higher, like that alone might somehow make him less likely to be shot. 

“Okay—okay, nope, nope, nope—hey, hey, I am not—this is not—” Steve started, voice cracking.

“Don’t move!” A voice snapped.

Your brain caught up a half second later, recognition threading through the shock in slow, disjointed pieces. The voice first, then the shape of him under the dim spill of moonlight, the mess of curls falling into his face. Familiar in a way that hit harder than fear, like your body had already decided it knew him before your mind was willing to accept it. 

“Eddie,” you said, his name breaking out of you in something halfway between relief and disbelief, like you weren’t sure whether to laugh or fall apart.

His head snapped toward you, the gun still pointed at Steve. For a second, everything in him looked ready to bolt.

But then, he saw your face properly, and something in him broke. Just slightly, just enough to show through the cracks. 

The gun didn’t lower, not yet, but his grip faltered like his body had forgotten how to hold it steady. His eyes locked onto you with a kind of stunned disbelief that quickly unraveled into something rawer, sharper. Relief so sudden it looked almost painful. 

For a second, he just stared, like he couldn’t quite convince himself you were real. 

“What are you doing here?” He demanded, but it didn’t sound like anger.

It sounded like he was trying not to fall apart on the spot. Like your presence alone was the only thing keeping him upright, and he was grateful to the universe for letting it be you standing there instead of anyone else. 

Steve was still frozen. “Hi,” he said carefully. “Steve. Friend of—uh, her. You’ve heard of me, right?” He awkwardly chuckles. “She must’ve mentioned me.” 

Steve gives you a look, like saying ‘right? You did, right?’

Eddie didn’t lower the gun immediately. His eyes flicked between you and Steve, like he was trying to decide which part of this was real. 

You took a slow step forward. “Eds,” you said again, softer this time. “It’s me.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. 

“We came for you,” you replied.

His expression flickered, just for a second. Like the idea hadn’t been one he’d allowed himself to consider.

Almost like you read his mind, you said, “Of course I’ll come for you.”

Steve cleared his throat lightly. “Also,” he added, still very carefully not moving, “if you could maybe not point that at me, that would be great.” 

The gun didn’t lower immediately, but Eddie’s attention shifted. You were still standing there, still real, and saying his name like it meant something other than trouble.

Steve tries again. “We’re… not here to hurt you, man.”

Eddie didn’t look at him. His eyes were still on you. Like if he looked away, you might disappear.

“No,” he said automatically. “No, you shouldn’t—this is bad. This is really bad.”

“Eddie,” you said again, and this time you stepped forward. 

“Don’t,” he warned, lifting the gun slightly again, but it wavered. 

You closed the distance slowly, like you were approaching something skittish and half-broken. Steve shifted behind you. “Hey,” he murmured, mostly to Eddie. “She’s not gonna—” 

“I said don’t,” Eddie snapped, but it didn’t land right. His voice cracked halfway through, and that was the moment it stopped being convincing.

You reached him, close enough now that you can see him properly. The dirt on his clothes, the tremor in his hand… The way he was holding himself too rigidly, like if he relaxed even a little, he’d fall apart completely.

“Hey,” you said, softer, and then your hand was on his wrist.

Eddie flinched instantly. “Don’t—”

“It’s me, Eds. C’mon.” you said again. “You’re okay.”

That did it.

The gun dipped, and his knees shifted like they didn’t remember how to stay locked. Steve took the gun from his grip, and his weight dropped fully, like his body had been waiting for permission to stop holding itself together.

Fortunately, you caught him before he hit the ground properly. Steve was there a second later, startled but moving fast now. “Okay—okay, I’ve got him,” Steve said, reaching in as Eddie sagged between you both. 

He tried to pull back, but it failed immediately. ‘I’m fine,” he insisted weakly. “I’m fine, I just—”

“You are very much not fine,” you said.

His head tilted slightly toward you. “...You came,” he said, quieter now, like he still couldn’t believe it.

You took a deep breath, and exhaled. Your eyes scanned his face, just feeling pure relief at the fact that you found him. “Yeah,” you said.

“It wasn’t me,” he said suddenly. The words came out too fast, like they’d been stuck behind his teeth for hours. “It wasn’t—okay? I didn’t—she was just—she was there and then she was floating and I didn’t do anything, I swear I didn’t—” 

“I believe you,” you said immediately. 

He stopped, like his brain hadn’t processed that response as something that could actually happen. “What?” he asked, breath uneven. 

“I believe you, Eds.” You repeated.

“No, you don’t,” he said quickly. “You don’t even know what happened. Nobody does. They all just—” 

“Eddie.” You tightened your grip slightly on his arm. “I believe you. We can talk about it later, and you’ll tell me everything, and you’ll be alright, okay? Because you didn’t do it.”

“Later?” he repeated, and God, his voice sounds wrecked.

“Yes.”

His jaw tightened. “You won’t believe me,” he said, quieter this time. Not accusing. Just tired. Like it was already decided. 

For a second, your chest tightened. “I do believe you,” you said again, softer. “And we are going to talk about it. I promise.” 

You sigh, looking around. “But not here.”

He looks confused at that. “Where else?”

“You’re going back to my house, okay? You know that secret basement? I’ll hide you in plain sight—they won’t know, Eds.”

He looks unconvinced at that, so you continue. “My parents are out of town. They won’t be back in another two, maybe three weeks. No one will know.”

Steve looks between the two of you, then adds softly, “I think your best friend would feel better if she knows where you are, don’t you think?”

Eddie looks at him, then back at you. “...Okay,” he said finally.

“Okay,” he repeated, like he was trying to convince himself more than you. 

You didn’t think about it, you just moved. Your arms slid around him before he could tip too far, pulling him close against you, head resting on his shoulder. 

Eddie melted into the hug. 

His grip tightened in the back of your shirt, fingers curling like he was trying to make sure you were real, like letting go might make everything snap back into something worse. 

“Good. Even if you said no, I’d still drag your ass,” you said, and his lips quirk up a bit at that. 

For the first time since you’d found him, he stopped shaking quite so hard.

Eddie successfully got into the back seat.

You weren’t entirely sure how it had happened in sequence. One moment he was half-standing between you and Steve, swaying like the idea of balance was optional, and the next Steve was practically hauling him into the car while you guided him carefully down into the seat beside you. 

Now, the world outside was moving again. 

His head rested against the glass, fogging it faintly with each uneven breath. His body kept sliding a little with every turn, like he hadn’t quite remembered how to stay upright even while sitting down. 

You watched him without meaning to. Every few seconds, your eyes flicked back to check he was still breathing, still conscious, still there in a way that felt real enough to hold onto. Every time you did, Eddie was still there. Slumped sideways, head tipped against the door like gravity had finally decided it was done negotiating with him. 

Steve glanced at the rearview mirror, checking on you both.

“He’s breathing,” he comments.

“I know.”

“You checked like… six seconds ago. He’s alright.”

You sigh. “I know,” you repeat.

“Hey Eddie, you alright back there?” Steve calls out with a slightly louder voice this time.

Eddie made a vague noise that might’ve been a yes if it had been translated more carefully. 

You twisted a little more in your seat. “Eddie?”

His eyes cracked open at the sound of your voice. “...Yeah,” he murmured.

Then, a shift. One you felt before you saw.

Eddie’s shoulder moved first, pulling away from the door. His head lifted slightly, like the glass had stopped being enough to hold him up. For a second, he just hovered there—uncertain, unsteady. 

He made eye contact with you, and you knew that look. He wanted something. You weren’t really sure what, but you nodded anyway.

Then, he leaned the other way. Toward you. His head came to rest against your shoulder, and you froze.

A moment later, he shifted again, his weight adjusting slightly. He was still leaning into you, but less tentative now. More settled and certain, like his body had decided without asking him that this was where it was supposed to be. 

“I’m not comfortable,” he mumbles.

“Um…” You start. Then, you turned to face him, leaning your back against the car door next to you. You hold out your arms open like an invitation, and he crawls toward your chest, head on your shoulder and arms wrapped around your stomach.

You swallowed, tense. You could feel your heart beating uncontrollably, and you pray that he doesn’t notice. His breath was soft on your shoulder, and his arms started to loosen, signaling that he was beginning to fall asleep.

You lifted your arm and let it settle around his shoulders, anchoring him closer.

“It’s warm,” he mumbled.

“Yeah,” you said softly.

And that was it, that was all he had left. He fell asleep right after.

The car had fallen into a different kind of quiet now. Steve noticed everything. He didn’t say anything at first. Just kept driving, eyes fixed on the road like he was giving you the space without having to announce it. 

You didn’t even realize you’d started speaking until you heard your own voice. “...He doesn’t know.”

Steve’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly. “...Doesn’t know what?”

You swallowed. “That I love him.”

The words came out quieter than you meant them to, like they didn’t want to fully exist. Steve didn’t react immediately, just lets the silence sit there for a second.

“You mean like… you haven’t told him?”

You let out a short breath that almost sounded like a laugh, except it wasn’t funny. “No.”

A pause. And then softer, “I mean, I can’t.”

Steve glanced at the mirror briefly, then back at the road. “Why not?”

That should’ve been an easy question. You looked down to Eddie, and his face was turned slightly toward your shoulder, mouth parted just enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. There was something almost unfair about how peaceful he looked now, like he hadn’t just spent the entire night falling apart. 

“Because he doesn’t feel the same.” you said.

Steve didn’t answer right away, and you kept on going. “I know how he is. And I know what I mean to him.”

Steve’s voice was careful when it came back. “And what’s that?”

You hesitated. “Safe.”

He frowned slightly, “I don’t think that’s—”

“It is,” you cut in, then softened immediately, like you didn’t mean to interrupt him. “I’m the person he comes to when he needs somewhere quiet. Or when he needs to crash. Or when he’s had a bad day and doesn’t want to deal with anyone else.” 

You let out a breath. “I’m not… I’m not the person he looks at like that.”

You kept going, because once it was out, it didn’t really stop. “I’ve known him since middle school,” you said. “Do you know how long that is? How many versions of someone do you get to see in that amount of time?” 

Your voice wavered slightly.

“I’ve watched him grow up. I’ve watched him fail classes and pretend he didn’t care and get way too excited about things no one else understands and I’ve just—” 

You swallowed hard.

“I’ve just loved him through all of it.”

Steve’s expression in the mirror softened, but he still didn’t interrupt. You exhaled slowly, like your body was finally catching up to what you were saying. 

“And he doesn’t see it,” you add. “Or he does, and he just… doesn’t want it from me. I don’t know which one is worse.”

Steve’s voice came in gently this time. “Hey.”

You didn’t look up. 

“I’m serious,” you said. “I don’t think I am… whatever he would want. I think I’m just the person he only remembers when everything else goes wrong. Like I’m the place he ends up, not the person he chooses.” 

Silence again.

Eddie shifted slightly against your shoulder, letting out a soft, sleepy sound, something halfway between a sigh and a word you couldn’t quite make out. 

You froze for half a second, but he didn’t wake up. He just… settled again. Steve glanced at him in the mirror, then back at you. 

“…You’re kind of an idiot, you know that?” he said softly. 

That made you huff a quiet, broken breath. “Yeah,” you said. “I know.”

Steve kept his eyes on the road for a long moment, jaw working slightly like he was choosing his words carefully.

“…I think you might be wrong about that,” he said finally. 

“About what?”

“Him not seeing you.”

That made you go still, because it was easier than deciding what to do with that sentence.

“No,” you said quietly. “He does. He just… he sees me as something else.”

“Like what?”

You looked down at Eddie again. He had shifted slightly in his sleep, cheek now more firmly pressed against your shoulder. 

“Like home.”

Steve glanced at you in the mirror. “That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s not enough,” you replied immediately. 

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Not enough for what?”

You hesitated, and the words feel heavier now. Like they’d been sitting too long in your chest and didn’t want to come out cleanly anymore.

“For him to feel the same way I do,” you said. 

Then you added, quieter, ““I don’t even need it to be… the same. I just—” 

You exhaled slowly, staring out the window instead of at anything inside the car. “It would mean everything if he felt even an ounce of what I feel for him.” 

“…You don’t really see it, do you?” he said finally. 

You glanced at him from the rearview mirror. “See what?”

“Him.”

You let out a quiet breath through your nose. “Oh, I see him alright.”

“No,” he said gently. “You think he doesn’t notice you,” he continued. “I think you’re missing the part where he always ends up with you. He looks for you first, even when he’s trying not to. He lets you touch him when he won’t let anyone else. He falls asleep on you like it’s the only place he trusts.” 

“I’ve known him for a long time, Steve—since we were pre-teens. It’s natural for us to gravitate towards each other when we grew up with one another,” you explain.

“In a few years time, I’ll be in college, and he’ll find someone else who makes him happier than no one else could, and I’ll be okay with that.” 

You breathe out a sigh.

“Will you, though?” Steve asks.

You chuckle humorlessly. “God, no. But I’ll tell him that, and you, and everyone else.”

“…Okay,” he said, like he was accepting that he wasn’t going to win that argument tonight. “But at least you’ll know what I think. Hold on to it for your sanity.”

You give him a smile. “Yeah, I guess I will. Thanks.”

A pause settled between you again. The only sound was Eddie’s breathing on top of you and the steady rhythm of the tires against the road. 

Then, Steve spoke again. “Have you told him that you’re leaving soon? I mean, you told me that you pretty much saved up enough money for college.”

That made your stomach drop slightly.

“...No,” you said eventually.

Steve nodded once. “You were gonna, right?”

“Yeah. I was going to tell him that I might be leaving this summer…” You trailed off.

“And you didn’t.”

Your jaw tightened. “It’s not like it’s set in stone yet.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You stared out at the dark road ahead. “I was gonna tell him soon, but this happened, and… I just didn’t want to make it real yet,” you said finally.

Steve nodded slowly. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

He kept his eyes on the road for a moment longer, drumming his fingers onto the steering wheel. “You’re not the only one who’s bad at saying things.”

You frowned slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He nudged towards Eddie from the front seat, and you let that sit with you for a moment,

Then, like he was debating whether or not to say it out loud, “I think he’d be a wreck.”

You shifted slightly in your seat.

“I’m serious. You need to tell him now, soften the blow just a bit, give him some time to process it.”

You looked down at Eddie again. He’s still asleep, still warm against your shoulder, still completely unaware of what you were talking about.

“He’d move on,” you said, but it didn’t sound as sure as you wanted it to. 

Steve shook his head slightly. “No,” he said again. “He wouldn’t.” 

You let out a breath. “He’d continue being the great person he is, and musician, and he’ll make it big with his band and experience everything he dreams of becoming because I know he’s capable.” 

You smile fondly at the thought, remembering how he’d tell you about his wishes and dreams for the future.

Then,

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.” 

You didn’t respond to Steve, because you didn’t trust your voice not to betray you. He didn’t push further. He just repeated,

“He’d be a wreck.”

The rest of the drive passed in a quiet blur. 

Streetlights became familiar again, roads widened, and the dark thinned out just enough to feel like you were slowly returning to somewhere that made sense. 

Steve slowed as he turned onto your street. “Home sweet home.” He said softly.

The car rolled to a stop in front of your house. 

Eddie’s breathing was slow and even, his weight still warm and steady against you. You reached up carefully, brushing a hand against Eddie’s shoulder. “Eddie.”

No response. 

A little firmer this time. “Hey, Eds.”

He shifted slightly, but didn’t wake. Steve glanced back over the seat. “I’ll get the door,” he said.

He got out first, moving around to the back door and opening it carefully. Cold air slipped into the car, and Eddie stirred at the change, brow furrowing slightly. 

“C’mon,” Steve said quietly, one hand on the door frame. “Wake up a little. We’re here.” 

Eddie made a low sound of protest. “Five more minutes,” he muttered, barely coherent.

A faint, tired laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it. “No,” you said softly. “Not five more minutes.” 

That got his attention. Sort of. His eyes cracked open slightly, unfocused. “...Where am I?” he mumbled.

“My house. You’re safe here.”

additional notes: i definitely enjoyed writing this one, so much that i'm thinking of making a part two where they get their shit together. i'm not too sure, though. but if anyone would like to share their thoughts/ideas of what part two could be like, feel free to comment or something!

i actually just started to watch stranger things around a month ago with my roommate, and we're just in the beginning of season 4, so i'm super excited to see more of eddie :)

anyway, i'll probably be back with more fics, so stay tuned! x

also, reblogs are super appreciated

[illinicoise]

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[spn-fandom-breathing-heavily]

not even risking that shit

[codyslipring-deactivated2015060]

scrolled past this, re-evaluated my life, then SCROOOLLLED back up and hit the damn reblog button. 

[tumblgang]

She ain’t no games in real life so I take her serious all the time

Anyone with a name that starts with a “Z”, ends with an “i”, and isn’t some kind of Italian pasta, IS SERIOUS

I’m not climbing no mountain with a pig on my back, 🙅🏽🙅🏾🙅🏿 Negative.

[skuubasally]

Nope. I know better, have your reblog Madame Zeroni.

[luckytaters]

who the fuck is Madame Zeroni

[saudadesinfinitas-deactivated20]

Look at these stupid children who don’t know who Madame Zeroni is

[drayaintshit-deactivated2019030]

☝🏾😂

[callmedeku24]

Man lissen if you don’t know you better ask somebody AFTER you hit the reblog button

[emeraldmercury]

Idk who she is but I have an exam today so I’ll reblog her

[haiku-robot]

idk who she is but i have an exam today so i’ll reblog her

^Haiku^bot^0.4. Sometimes I do stupid things (but I have improved with syllables!). Beep-boop!

[jacobmick]

Because wise, I am.

[seymonecristina]

Oh fucks no she’s back lmao must reblog. I’m sorry guys

[silverslipstream]

Reblogging Madame Zeroni because I would hate for my great-great grandson to get hit in the head by running shoes

[moontannedmunson]

Extra Credit: Extra Points

⋆˚꩜｡pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

⋆˚꩜｡summary: a little glimpse into your lives

⋆˚꩜｡tags/tw: explicit sexual content 18+ mdni; no y/n, afab reader, wayne meets the 'rents, found family, everyone loves wayne, unprotected piv sex (pls don't do this), eddie cannot escape the breeding king allegations (nor does he want to tbh), creampie, fingering (f!receiving), cum play?, dirty talk, praise?, mild possessiveness hospital visit, terminally ill parent, smoking, alcohol consumption, marijuana use,

⋆˚꩜｡word count: 10.7k+

Sunny, suffocatingly warm days had settled over Hawkins, turning the trailer park roads dusty and baking the metal roofs beneath the afternoon sun. Along with them, Friday evenings had developed a routine somewhere over the last few months.

Not intentionally – neither of you had ever sat down and decided on it. It had simply happened.

By six o’clock, Wayne would usually be getting ready for work, Eddie would be getting ready for Hellfire, and you would inevitably find yourself wandering up the familiar trailer steps, letting yourself inside with your own key instead of the old half-hearted knock.

The warmth of the trailer immediately enveloped you, thawing the chill that had settled into your fingertips during the walk over. You quietly kicked off your shoes, wiggling your toes to coax some feeling back into them, before abandoning your jacket over one of the kitchen chairs.

The trailer was strangely quiet. No guitar screeching from Eddie’s room. No loud, rambling monologues directed at absolutely nobody in particular. The television hummed softly from the living room instead, filling the space with distant cheering and the animated voice of a sports commentator.

A loud flush echoed from down the hall, followed by the familiar groans of the bathroom door and the heavy footsteps of Wayne making his way back towards the living room.

He didn’t even glance in your direction as he stepped into the kitchen, already far too accustomed to your presence to think anything of it. Instead, a quiet greeting slipped from him as he opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers.

“Why are you still home?” you asked, eyebrows knitting together as you accepted one from his outstretched hand.

“Got the night off,” he replied with a shrug.

“Did your boss hit his head?”

“Must’ve,” Wayne chuckled out against the rim of his beer can. “But I’m not complaining.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, quietly sipping your beers while the game droned in on the background.

Wayne had settled into the chair beside you, one elbow propped on the kitchen table as he dragged the ashtray closer. Without taking his eyes off the television, he held his battered pack of cigarettes out in your direction.

“So,” you started slowly, taking a drag before continuing, “my mom kinda wants us all to have dinner tomorrow night.”

Your cheeks warmed as the words left your mouth, and you took another slow drag before finally glancing over at him.

“And I know we’re not… y’know, getting married or anything,” you continued quietly. “So I don’t really know how you’d feel about meeting my family.”

Wayne remained silent for a moment longer, taking another sip of his beer while his eyes stayed fixed on the baseball game.

“Eddie talks about you all the time,” you added, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Guess she got curious.”

The corner of Wayne’s mouth twitched. “Curious, huh?”

“Yeah,” you replied softly, and took a sip of your beer. “That’s one word for it.”

Wayne clicked his tongue and took another drag of his cigarette.

“Should I bring anything?”

You blinked at him. Not because you’d thought he’d say no, but because he’d agreed so easily. Wayne had always seemed like the kind of man who preferred to stay in his own lane whenever possible.

“Nah,” you murmured after a moment. “Just come as you are.”

“Good.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “’Cause I’ve no idea where my only nice shirt is.”

Saturday morning had been… a lot.

Your dad had vacuumed the living room twice – despite the fact you’d done it earlier that week and there was absolutely no reason for him to do it again – and your mom…

Well… Let’s just say she’d spent the entire day running around like a chicken without its head.

There had been three trips to the grocery store, another to the little liquor store on 2nd street for a special bottle of wine – even though you’d repeatedly told her Wayne was perfectly content with cheap beer and wasn’t the type of man who needed impressing – and what felt like hours spent in the kitchen as though it were Thanksgiving Eve instead of dinner with Eddie’s uncle.

And you–

“This is the sixth time you’ve looked through the curtain.” Your dad’s amused voice drifted out from the kitchen and into the living room. He was wearing your mom’s hot pink apron while he flipped the ridiculously large pig’s leg your mother had shoved in the oven hours earlier. “Relax.”

“No, I haven’t,” you muttered, immediately abandoning the curtain and turning to glare at him. “And I am relaxed.”

“Honey.” Your dad shot you the knowing look you’d grown to hate more and more with each passing second. “I’ve know you for eighteen years. This is not you relaxed.”

“Yeah, well. If you two hadn’t been stressing all day,” you replied, rolling your eyes, “maybe I wouldn’t be stressed either.”

“This is a big deal, honey,” your mom said before your dad could respond. Her lips were pursed together while her eyebrows settled into a worried furrow. “It’s important that he knows we care about Eddie.”

“Believe me, mom,” you chuckled softly as you pushed yourself off the couch, a smile tugging at your lips. “He knows. Eddie talks about you guys all the time. It’s honestly kinda annoying.”

By the time the doorbell finally rang, your mother had made your dad check the oven two more times, rearranged the dining table three separate times – switching the everyday silverware for the fancy set and then back again – and you were beginning to regret ever extending the invitation.

You beat your parents to the door, letting out a quiet breath as your fingers curled around the doorknob. Wayne stood on the porch when you pulled it open, Eddie already grinning beside him.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

Your eyes immediately landed on Wayne, your eyebrows shooting upwards. “You found the shirt.”

“Made me stress-search the entire trailer with him,” Eddie chuckled, ignoring the look Wayne shot him.

“Don’t make me kill you before dinner,” he muttered under his breath as he stepped inside.

You stepped aside to let hem in, catching the faint scent of a cologne you’d never smelled before.

It wasn’t Eddie’s, or your dad’s. And for some reason, the realization that Wayne had stress-searched for his good shirt and put on cologne for tonight made something tug warmly at your chest.

“You must be Eddie’s dad.” Your mom suddenly appeared beside you, a bright smile already spread across her face as she extended a hand.

“Uncle,” Wayne corrected gently, as though he was worried about sounding rude. Then he introduced himself.

“Dad,” Eddie corrected immediately, shooting the older man a warm smile.

He hadn’t even properly greeted you before disappearing into the kitchen towards your father, already talking about some book he’d loaned Eddie a few weeks ago.

You shot the back of his head an incredulous look before pushing the front door shut and following everyone in the kitchen.

Wayne just blinked at the boy. Eddie had – much to his horror – already opened the fridge and helped himself to two beers. He passed one to his uncle before cracking open his own.

He immediately shot Eddie a reprimanding look, followed by a low behave.

“Oh!” your mom interrupted with a dismissive wave when she noticed the exchange. “Don’t worry about him, Wayne. He’s at home.”

The special wine your mother had bought remained mostly untouched as Wayne and your father had worked their way through one of the six-packs instead.

Somewhere between the roast, the soft music spilling from the kitchen radio, and Eddie getting relentlessly bullied by every person at the table, the nervous tension had quietly disappeared.

Your dad had been right – you hadn’t been relaxed earlier that evening, not like you were now. No tense shoulders, no fidgeting fingers. Just laughter and something warm spreading through your chest.

The dinner plates had long since given way to dessert plates, followed by matching porcelain coffee cups.

You paused at the kitchen island, your hand still wrapped around the handle of the coffee pot as you took a moment to yourself.

Wayne was shaking his head at something your father had said, though the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth gave away his amusement.

Your mother was busing filling glass containers while shooting Eddie a pointed look, muttering something under her breath when he insisted the leftovers weren’t necessary – especially not the amount of food she was packing away, enough to feed half the trailer park. Eddie only shook his head back in response, the rim of his beer can brushing against his smiling lips.

For once, nobody was paying attention to you. And maybe that was why the moment caught you off guard. Because somewhere along the way, the people you loved had stopped being separate parts of your life and become one.

Eddie caught you staring from across the room and tilted his head in question. When you responded with a small smile, his immediately widened.

Then, with all the subtlety of a brick through a window, he pressed a hand dramatically against his chest and leaned back into his chair after catching the kiss you’d blown in his direction.

“You guys are coming for Thanksgiving, right?” your mom asked, pulling Eddie’s attention away from you.

“I, uh…” he blinked a few times, looking momentarily caught off guard. Despite how comfortable he’d become around your parents, he still hadn’t quite gotten used to the idea of being expected at important holidays. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Good.” Your mom smiled warmly as she snapped the lids onto the containers. “Because I’ve already got the whole things planned.”

Eddie continued blinking heavily. “It’s still October.”

“She’s been planning since September,” your father replied from across the table. “Believe me, she takes it very seriously.”

“I can see that,” Eddie replied with a small smile, catching your eyes across the room. The look he gave you was fond enough to make heat creep into your cheeks.

Warm sunlight spilled across the football field, soft and golden – the kind that made every colour seem a little brighter.

The mid-June air carried the faint sweetness of flowers from somewhere beyond the bleachers, while the green of newly full trees framed the field like a living auditorium.

Only fitting for a graduation ceremony.

Rows of white folding chairs creaked and shifted beneath restless parents. The chair between Wayne groaned every time he adjusted his position, and somewhere three rows behind him a baby had been crying for the better part of twenty minutes.

Other than his graduation, he’d never sat through one before.

At least not from the family section.

Beside him, your mother fanned herself with the ceremony program while your father – who had, for reasons nobody understood, decided to wear a full suit – complained about the heat as he fiddled with the new camera hanging around his neck.

At the front of the field, a speaker droned through an introduction that none of the three adults cared enough to listen to.

“How much longer?” Wayne muttered, leaning towards your mother.

“You’ve asked that four times already.”

“And?”

“And the answer hasn’t changed,” she lowered the program and shot him a look. “Pretty sure we got the same ceremony program.”

While they bickered like decades-long friends, the first applause rippled through the crowd like a pebble dropped into a pond.

Green-and-gold caps glinted beneath the June sun, tassels catching the light as parents leaned forwards in their seats, necks craned and cameras raised while they laughed and muffled quiet sniffles.

Diplomas were handed out, footsteps across the stage mixing with the creak of folding chairs, and each name opened into a small, bright moment – handshakes exchanged, smiles wide and raw.

It wasn’t until your father suddenly started waving his arm like a man trying to flag down an airplane that your mother and Wayne finally stopped their bickering and redirected their attention towards the ridiculously decorated stage.

“There!” your father pointed excitedly.

“I know where my own kid is,” Wayne murmured, quietly reaching for the prescription glasses tucked int the pocket of his shirt.

His gaze immediately found the familiar mess of curls peeking from beneath a graduation cap.

Beside him, your mother let out a soft gasp. “There’s my girl!” Pride softened her voice in a way that made your father smile behind the camera.

At the front of the field, the graduates slowly shuffled forwards row by row. One step closer, then another. Until it suddenly wasn’t some distant ceremony anymore.

Principal Higgins adjusted the microphone, a practiced smile settling on his face as he leaned towards it. A name was called, a student crossed the stage; then another, and another.

And then–

“Edward Wayne Munson.”

Somewhere behind them, Dustin practically bled out everyone’s eardrum as he screamed and clapped like a circus seal. Despite visibly wincing, Wayne never took his eyes off the stage.

He watched Eddie cross it – watched him nearly trip over the hem of his gown. Watched him shake Principal Higgin’s hand, snatch the diploma and flash a middle finger towards the man like he’d threatened to do a hundred times before.

Higgins sighed, Eddie grinned, and Wayne continued smiling.

And for a moment, everything else faded into the background – no crowd, no heat, no speeches, nothing. Because after three attempts, countless detentions, and more arguments than Wayne could count, the kid had actually done it.

“Attaboy,” Wayne murmured as he crossed his arms over his chest. “About damn time.”

Wayne’s smile had barely faded when Principal Higgins looked back down at his list, calling another name and drawing another round of applause from the crowd.

Eddie found your gaze right before your turn. Grinning, he blew you a kiss and followed it with an exaggerated wink – which immediately rolled your eyes.

Then, before your mother could mentally prepare herself, your name echoed across the football field. The applause swelled around the bleachers as you made your way towards the stage. Halfway there, you nearly tripped over the hem of your own gown – not because you were nervous, but because your father had somehow managed to stand up in the middle of the ceremony and was now filming the entire thing with the enthusiasm of a man documenting the moon landing.

“Oh gosh, look at her!”

“I am looking!”

As afternoon leaned towards evening, the sun lowered and painted faces with a honeyed glow.

Eddie had thrown his diploma somewhere in the back of his van before he joined you for the graduation photoshoot your mom was adamant on having.

Nathalie had her arms thrown around you, basically holding you in a headlock, as she smiled wide to the disposable camera your mom held.

“You too, Eddie!” she exclaimed, not lifting the camera from her face.

Eddie let out a dramatic sigh – which the glimmer in his eyes told everyone he didn’t mean one bit – but made his way over anyway. Nathalie immediately released you and latched onto him instead, recreating the exact position she’d put you in just seconds earlier. A quiet laugh escaped him as he tried to pry her arms from around his neck, but to no avail.

The camera continued clicking, and with every flash another person was added to the photographs – Dustin, Wayne, your Father.

You quickly lost track of how many photographs your mother took, and you were fairly certain she’d somehow managed to make a second disposable camera appear out of thin air.

As the afternoon slowly leaned towards evening, the crowd began to thin. Families drifted towards the parking lot, teachers packed away folding chairs, and the football field suddenly seemed far too large compared to how it had felt only an hour earlier.

Your parents and Wayne had already left, and Nathalie had disappeared to get ready for the afterparty at some senior’s lake house.

The two of you had dropped Dustin off at home and were now making your way back towards the trailer.

You’d noticed earlier that Eddie’s fingers kept fidgeting against the steering wheel while the three of you drove towards Dustin’s house, but you’d pushed the observation to the back of your mind. But now, with Dustin gone, and the van occupied by only the two of you, the silence felt impossible to ignore – no radio, no laughing, no conversation. Just the rumble of the engine and the occasional creak of the old van as the familiar streets of Hawkins blurred past the windows. Brink buildings slowly gave way to stretches of green until the sign for Forest Hills Trailer Park finally appeared in the distance.

Eddie didn’t make any move to get out once he’d parked beside your car and killed the engine. He simply sat there while his fingers continued tapping restlessly against the steering wheel while his eyes remained fixed on nothing in particular.

“I, uh…” His voice sounded rough before he swallowed and finally looked at you. “I gotta do this… thing before I go to the afterparty.”

“Where are you going?” you asked softly, your eyebrows drawing together.

“Gonna see my mom,” he admitted after a moment, nodding to himself. “Tell her the big news and all that.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Your eyes traced the lines of his face, searching for the unspoken thoughts lingering behind his words.

“Do you want me to come?”

Eddie looked at you for a few seconds before his gaze drifted towards the trailer sitting quietly in front of you.

“Nah, it’s alright,” he replied softly. “Nathalie’s gonna kill you if you’re late.”

“She’ll probably be too distracted by Gareth to notice,” you joked.

Undoing your seatbelt, you turned towards him and reached for his hand.

“I wanna come, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah?” His voice was low. Something that looked suspiciously like uncertainty flickered through his eyes. “I know you don’t like hospitals.”

“I’ll survive,” you replied softly. Your hand found his cheek, gently pulling him closer for a quick kiss.

Something eased in his expression – not completely, but enough.

The sun had already begun to set by the time the two of you got back on the road. Streaks of pink and violet stretched across the sky, painting the horizon in soft watercolours. And by the time you finally arrived, the colours had faded into deep blue darkness.

A few curious glanced followed the two of you as you stepped out of the van, still dressed in your graduation gowns and caps. Neither of you paid them much attention as you walked hand in hand, and made your way towards the hospital entrance.

The green-and-gold gowns made the two of you stand out like sore thumbs against the stark white walls and fluorescent lights waiting inside.

The corridors stretched long and bright, fluorescent lights reflecting off polished floors while the persistent scent of antiseptic lingered in the air.

Hand in hand, the two of you made your way through the maze of hallways until Eddie finally slowed to a stop. For the first time all evening, his grip on your hand tightened.

“You ready?” you asked softly, returning the squeeze.

“No,” he chuckled humourlessly.

But he pushed the door open anyway.

The steady beeping of a heart monitor filled the otherwise quiet room.

Your gaze drifted around for a moment, taking in how the clinical order of the space had slowly been transformed into something more personal over the years. Old childhood drawings were taped to the walls, a bouquet of flowers sat on the bedside table, and photographs had been tucked into the corners of mirrors and pinned beside medical charts.

Eddie gave your hand one last squeeze before reluctantly letting go. He pulled one of the chairs closer to the bed but didn’t sit down right away; instead, his eyebrows pinched together.

“I gotta do something real quick,” he murmured, and then disappeared back into the hallway.

Something tugged at your chest as you finally let your eyes settle on the woman lying in the bed. Even with the tubes and machines surrounding her, she looked strangely peaceful. Soft brown curls framed her face, and faint smile lines lingered around her eyes and mouth.

You quietly dragged the chair closer and sat down. Carefully avoiding the IV lines, you reached for her hand and gently wrapped your fingers around hers.

“Y’know,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips as your gaze caught the badly faded tattoo of an E inside a heart on her forearm. “He’s a great man.”

Your thumb brushed softly across the back of her hand.

“Wayne did a good job.”

Your voice drifted quietly through the gap in the open doorway, stilling Eddie’s movements before he pushed it open again.

The more words that left your mouth, the tighter his grip became on the folded sheet of paper in his hand.

When he finally found the courage to step back inside, he found you with your bag balanced on your lap, carefully holding his mother’s hand while filing her nails with the other.

You trailed off when his footsteps echoed through the room. Looking up, your eyes immediately found the paper in his hands.

“Hey,” you murmured. “Whatcha got there?”

Eddie blinked a few times before looking down at it himself.

“My, uh… diploma.” A nervous laugh escaped him. “Gonna hang it with the rest.”

“I think she’d love that,” you replied softly before returning to her nails.

Eddie remained where he stood for a moment, his eyes lingering on the sight in front of him as warmth spread through his chest.

“I was telling her about the pictures my mom took today,” you continued quietly. “Figured I’d bring her some once they’re developed.”

Your file moved gently over another nail, another small smile tugging at your lips.

“Maybe a plant, too.”

Eddie snorted softly and finally stepped forwards, pulling the other chair closer to the bed.

“A plant?”

“They last longer than flowers.”

Eddie simply shook his head, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards as he sat down beside you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you continued gently filing her nails while Eddie looked at the xeroxed diploma in his hands.

“Hey, mom.” His voice came out softer than he’d intended, while a nervous smile pulled at his lips. “Guess what?”

He held up the black-and-white piece of paper.

“I finally graduated.”

You’d taken full advantage of the fact that Eddie and Wayne had gone on a long-overdue boys’ trip to their favourite record store in Indianapolis.

Which meant the trailer was empty, with nobody to stop you.

Dustin and Mike stood precariously on top of the kitchen chairs while they attempted to hang colourful birthday banners across the ceiling. Gareth was stocking the fridge with beer and enough soft drinks to keep the younger members of Hellfire alive for at least a week. Meanwhile, Jeff and your dad were trying – and failing – not to cough up a lung while blowing up balloons. The occasional curse drifted out of the living room every time one of them accidentally let go of a balloon before tying it off.

You were tucked away in the kitchen alongside Nathalie and your mom, busy putting the finishing touches on the ridiculously elaborate menu that had somehow materialized over the week.

A few weeks ago, Eddie had absentmindedly mentioned that Wayne’s birthday was coming up. He’d also mentioned wanting to get him a present, despite the fact they weren’t planning on celebrating.

It had seemed like an innocent enough comment at the time.

A massive mistake on Eddie’s part, really.

Because now you had your own key to the trailer, and there was absolutely nothing stopping you from turning it into a colourful, glitter-covered disaster worthy of a fifty-fifth birthday party.

You’d been adamant that everyone park further down the trailer park, making sure that when the Munson boys got home, they wouldn’t immediately grow suspicious at the number of cars surrounding the trailer.

Which turned out to be a good call.

The familiar rumble of Eddie’s van echoed through the evening air, followed by slamming doors and the distant murmur of conversation. Inside the trailer, everyone immediately fell silent – the kind that felt impossibly loud. You could hear their voices growing closer as they made their way up the steps, completely unaware of what was waiting for them on the other side of the door.

Wayne’s words died on his tongue the moment he pushed it open.

“Happy birthday, Wayne!”

His grip on the doorknob faltered, and for a second he just stood there, too stunned to step inside.

Eddie couldn’t remember the last time the trailer had looked like that. Hell, he wasn’t entirely sure it ever had.

He’d been six years old when he moved in with Wayne, and over the years his own birthdays had been celebrated with store-bought cakes, dollar-store presents, and whatever Wayne could scrape together after paying the bills.

But Wayne’s birthdays had always been different. Usually they passed with a muttered birthday wish, and maybe a small present Eddie had spent months saving for.

Nothing like this.

Wayne was pulled from his thoughts when you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you mumbled birthday wishes into his ear. His hand came up hesitantly, patting your back once before settling there with more certainty.

Then he looked over his shoulder and immediately found Eddie – and the look he shot him was equal parts accusation and disbelief.

“I had absolutely no idea,” Eddie said quickly, raising both hands in surrender.

“He really had no idea,” you admitted bashfully as you pulled away from Wayne. “This is all on me.”

Wayne blinked at you for a few seconds, dragging a hand over the back of his head and scratching absentmindedly at the bald spot.

“Jesus H. Christ.”

“C’mon,” you laughed. “Fifty-five is a big deal!”

Wayne let his gaze wander around the trailer, taking in the colourful banners, the balloons crowding the ceiling, and the gigantic cake sitting on the kitchen counter.

“That’s a very large cake.”

Something in his expression softened. In all the time you’d known him, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him look quite like that.

For a second,  you could’ve sworn his eyes had gone glassy. But then he blinked, and the moment was gone.

“I hope chocolate is okay,” your mother said.

He stepped closer to the kitchen counter, his gaze trailing over the slightly lopsided decorations perched on top of the cake – courtesy of Nathalie’s non-existent baking experience – before accepting the beer your father offered him.

“Would’ve eaten it either way,” he murmured against the rim of the can, trying to sound far more nonchalant than he felt. “Just don’t sing Happy Birthday.”

That suggestion was immediately ignored.

Still lingering near the front door, Eddie let his eyes wander across the cramped living room and kitchen – the conversations, the laughter, the balloons, the small mountain of wrapped presents stacked on the coffee table.

Then his eyes found you.

You were standing beside Wayne, carefully cutting the cake while laughing at something your mom had said.

And just like that, everything else faded into the background. The realisation hit him so suddenly it nearly knocked the wind out of him. You loved Wayne – not because he was attached to Eddie; not because you felt obligated to. Just because he was Wayne.

“Jesus,” Eddie muttered under his breath, dragging a hand through his curls. “Get a grip, Munson.”

“Why do you look like an electrocuted cat?”

Eddie nearly jumped out of his skin as Dustin’s voice suddenly pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson.”

“Just Dustin Henderson is fine, dude,” he replied with a deadpan expression. “And that wasn’t an answer.”

“Shut up, man.”

“Seriously,” Dustin squinted at him. “You look weird.”

“This is just my face,” Eddie muttered, shaking his head as he finally pushed the door shut.

“No, it’s not,” Dustin immediately shot back as he pointed across the room. “You look like you’re about to propose.”

“I don’t have ring yet.”

Eddie immediately froze. The words had left his mouth before his brain had a chance to stop them.

“Shut up.”

Dustin’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face almost instantly.

“There it is.” He pointed at Eddie triumphantly. “I knew it.”

“Shut up, Henderson.”

“Oh my God, you’ve actually thought about it.”

Eddie immediately ignored the heat creeping across his cheeks and down his neck. He swallowed nervously before shaking his head and stepping further into the living room, pretending Dustin no longer existed.

“Where are you going?” he whined as he hurried after Eddie. “We’re not done talking about this!”

Somewhere between watching Wayne get force-fed yet another slice of cake, opening more presents than he knew what to do with, and working his way through a few more beers, the overwhelming feeling in Eddie’s chest had finally settled.

You sat comfortably on his lap, absentmindedly scratching at his scalp while he swirled the last of his beer around the can and watched Wayne laugh at something your dad had said.

Without taking his eyes off his uncle, he pulled you a little closer against his chest. “Thank you,” he murmured, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.

“Hm?”

“For loving him,” he said quietly, finally looking at you with a soft glimmer swimming in his eyes. “For treating him like family.”

“That’s because he is,” you whispered back and pressed a soft kiss to his temple.

And just like that, the overwhelming warmth returned.

“Careful, Sweetheart,” he murmured, sounding considerably more confident than he had with Dustin an hour earlier. “Keep being sweet like that and I might marry you.”

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it, though it did little to quiet the buzz spreading beneath your skin.

“Please don’t steal the attention away from him.”

“Don’t worry,” Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Won’t propose until I get a ring.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” you shot back. “Pretty sure getting married after five months of dating isn’t a smart idea.”

Eddie clicked his tongue and shot you a thoroughly offended look.

“You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Sweetheart.”

A few hours later, after you’d finally managed to throw your parents out of the trailer, the Munson home had settled back into its natural, quiet state. Your mom had somehow found the energy to clean half the living room before leaving – even though you’d repeatedly told her that you and Eddie would take care of it in the morning.

Wayne had been sprawled across the couch for a while now, soft snores escaping him after he’d finally surrendered to a cake-and-beer-induced coma.

You and Eddie sat at the kitchen table, sharing a cigarette back and forth in comfortable silence.

“Think he had a good birthday?” you asked quietly, glancing towards the couch.

“Yeah,” Eddie murmured. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips as his eyes settled on Wayne. “He did.”

Eddie blew the last of the smoke from his lungs before crushing the cigarette into the ashtray between you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, and the trailer had gone quiet again.

Balloons still bobbed lazily in the living room, half-opened presents sat forgotten on the coffee table, and Wayne’s soft snores drifted through the room.

Then Eddie pushed his chair back and got to his feet, holding out a hand towards you.

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” he said when you slipped your hand into his. “Let’s go to bed, hm?”

You glanced towards Wayne one last time.

At some point, he’d rolled onto his back, one hand resting on his chest while the other hung off the side of the couch.

Letting go of Eddie’s hand for  moment, you reached for the folded blanket tucked inside the wooden crate beside the couch and carefully draped it over the sleeping man.

Something in Eddie’s chest tightened at the gesture.

Without a word, he took your hand again and gently tugged you down the hallway after switching off the lights.

He didn’t bother with the overhead light once you stepped into his room. Instead, he reached for the bedside lamp, casting the familiar space in a warm amber glow that settled over the cluttered shelves, cassette tapes, and the countless little trinkets that made the room unmistakably his.

Meanwhile, you wandered towards the dresser in search of one of his oversized shirts to sleep in.

“Y’know,” Eddie started softly as he kicked off his shoes, “I was serious about what I said earlier.”

“Hm?” You pulled the shirt over your head, your voice muffled by the fabric.

Before you could fully untangle yourself, you felt his hands settle on your hips, gently pulling you back against his chest.

“About marrying you,” he whispered before pressing a soft kiss against the back of your neck.

Neither of you spoke for a while. You let your gaze linger on the floor for a moment longer before eventually turning around in his arms and finding him already looking at you. There was no teasing grin, no punchline waiting behind his expression.

“Not now, obviously,” he chuckled when he saw the look on your face. “We just graduated high school and all that.”

His thumb brushed absentmindedly against your side as he guided the two of you towards his bed, pulling you onto his lap.

“But when I think about my future…” he let out a quiet laugh. “You’re the only constant there.”

His words settled warmly in your chest as your eyes continued tracing the familiar lines of his face.

“You’re there too, you know,” you whispered after a few seconds.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, gently drawing him closer while your fingers combed through the curls at the back of his head.

“Tell me more,” you whispered and gave him a quick kiss. “About our future.”

A soft, dreamy smile tugged at his lips as he thought about it.

“You’ll probably go to college next summer, and I’ll work as a mechanic,” he started slowly, eyes glimmering under the warm amber lights. “But we’ll make it work somehow, safe every dime we can spare and one day buy our own house.”

“Yeah?” You smiled, warm and bright, painting the picture in your mind.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded and pulled you a little closer against his chest. “Two stories, picket fence, big backyard. Big enough for a couple of kids. Everything we deserve.”

A mischievous glimmer immediately settled into your eyes.

“A couple of kids, huh?” you teased. “You’re hellbent on getting me pregnant, aren’t you?”

Eddie nearly choked. The pink that instantly flooded his cheeks spread all the way down his neck.

“Jesus.” He dropped his head into his hand and dragged it through his curls. “I’m trying to be romantic here.”

“You’re doing a pretty good job,” you murmured before licking your lips and letting go of his neck. Your hand trailed down his chest and under his shirt, feeling the warmth radiating off his skin. “You were saying?”

Eddie blinked softly at you, trailing his eyes across your face and noticing the mischievous glimmer in your eyes had given way to something else.

“Uh…” he trailed off slowly, still blinking as he felt your hand trail lower again. “Uhm–”

“Go on,” you smiled, trailing your fingertips down until you reached his buckle. “Don’t mind me, baby.”

Easier said than done. You hadn’t really done anything just yet, and you’d somehow already turned his brain into a mushy mess. Eddie’s mouth fell open, only for it to close again, repeating it a few more times as the words escaped him.

You expertly undid his belt, and pulled slowly at his zipper before slipping your hand into his boxers. A knowing smile spread across your lips as you gave him a tentative tug.

“I think we were talking about how you’re desperate to get me pregnant?” you said teasingly when you noticed his lost expression.

“I-I’m not des–” Eddie cut himself off and dragged a hand through his hair once again, tugging at his roots.

“No?” You raised your eyebrows. “Then why are you hard just thinking about it?”

Eddie gulped down the dry lump in his throat, unable to come up with anything to shoot back. His chest moved frantically up and down when you removed your hand to spit on it.

“Explain it to me,” you whispered as you slipped your hand back into his boxers, fingers easily finding his hard cock, twitching with every sultry word that slipped from your lips. “Why does it turn you on so much?”

He took another moment, trying to get his heartbeat to calm down, only to fail miserably at it when you started slowly moving your hand up and down along his shaft. He swallowed again, blinking heavily, and licked his lips before he finally found the words.

“It’s the, uh…” he swallowed down a moan, eyebrows furrowing with his tortuously slow tug you gave him. “Idea of owning you like that.”

“Owning me?”

“Showing everyone that you belong to me, that I’m the only one to gets to have you like that,” he added quickly, licking his lips before a soft groan spilled from his mouth. His chest heaved as he trailed his gaze away from your for a split second, like whatever he wanted to say next wasn’t something that came easily to him. “And having the chance to do it right. To not fuck everything up like my old man.”

The words hung heavily between the two of you – heavier than Eddie wanted them to – and made you halt your movements altogether.

You licked your lips as you blinked down at him, heartbeat pounding in your ears. The raw honesty made something tug at your heart, especially knowing that Eddie never really talked about his life before moving in with his uncle.

He dragged his hand through his dark locks, tugging harshly at his roots as he exhaled. “Fuck, I’m sor–”

“I’d love to give you that chance one day, Eds,” you cut him off, voice merely above a whisper.

Then, before he could react or even let the words sink in properly, you pulled him in for a kiss. His lips were soft and warm against yours, following the slow rhythm you’d set. He gave your waist a gentle squeeze while his warm breath fanned over your face.

When you pulled away again and opened your eyes, you found his already staring at you. He had his eyebrows set in a faint, raised furrow and his mouth hung open as he tried to catch his breath.

“Really?” he whispered back after a moment, not trusting his voice.

“Really,” you said with a small smile tugging at your lips.

The two of you stayed silent for a moment longer, just staring back at one another with glimmering eyes and soft expressions. You brought a hand to his cheek, cradling him and pulling him in for a quick peck.

“You…” you trailed off softly, and let out a breathless sigh before continuing. “You wanna practice in the meantime?”

Eddie chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief as a grin took over his lips. He looked away for just a split second before finding your gaze again.

“You’re unbelievable,” he replied with a grin.

A low chuckle escaped you while you pulled of his lap to stand between his legs. Your fingers found the hem of shirt, pulling it up and off his body. Once the shirt had been thrown carelessly somewhere on the ground, you immediately reached for his jeans, impatiently tugging at it. Eddie helped you by pushing his hips off the bed, and hastily helped you by pulling the thick denim off his calves when they’d gotten stuck – one downside of always wearing tight skinny jeans – followed by the pair of boxers.

Eddie’s chest moved frantically up and down as he dragged a hand through his hair, eyes glued on you as you reached under the oversized shirt that hung over your frame. His gaze followed your fingers as you pulled the black lacey underwear down your legs, and let it pool around your feet.

“Wait,” he said breathlessly when you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling your hands away from the fabric. “Keep it on.”

“The whole owning me thing?” you chuckled under your breath.

“Yeah,” he replied bashfully, swallowing the dry lump that had briefly settled in his throat.

You just shook your head and licked your lips as you took a step closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. Letting your eyes wander across his face for a few more seconds, you slipped one of your hands into his curls, nails gently scratching against his scalp.

“I wanna try to be on top tonight,” you whispered, looking away for a quick moment. “Would that be okay?”

“Jesus,” he breathed out, cock twitching at your words. “Fuck. Yes, of course.”

You nodded slowly – more to yourself than to him – chest heaving as you swallowed. Then, without thinking twice about it, you leaned in and brushed your lips against his, lingering there for just a moment before pressing in and closing the distance all the way.

Eddie’s hands reached for your hips, slipping under your shirt, fingers pressing into your skin as you licked his bottom lip, coaxing his mouth to open just enough to deepen the kiss.

A soft groan escaped him when you tilted your head and kissed him harder – still unhurried, but deeper. You moved your lips against his with more intent, picking up just slightly when another groan slipped from his mouth. Eddie’s rings pressed harder into your hips when you pulled away just slightly, enough to suck on his tongue when he followed your movement.

He pulled you closer, a little rougher than before, forceful enough to pull you into his lap. You continued sucking on his tongue, filling the otherwise silent room with low slurping sounds that nearly drove him insane.

Sometimes he regretted having taught you everything you know – the way you brushed your tongue against his in that special way that made his cock twitch a little too hard, or the way you’d mastered the art of rolling your hips until he was nothing but a pool of spit.

“I’m still on the pill,” you whispered against his lips when you finally pulled away. “I wanna– I wanna feel you, Eds. All of you.”

His grip on your hips tightened slightly, nails gently digging into your skin. His breath hitched, eyebrows slowly furrowing as he turned your words in his head.

“And I know you don’t really trust it,” you added quickly, cutting him off before he could even mumble a single word. “But where’s the fun in practicing if we use a condom?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie murmured after a few seconds. “Are you trying to kill me?”

You chuckled under your breath, teeth digging softly into your bottom lip as you rolled your hips against him. His breath caught and his cock twitched when you slid your slick folds up and down his length.

“Are you…” he trailed off, swallowing the lump that had settled in his throat as he dragged one hand through his hair. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Never been more sure,” you whispered, stealing a quick kiss as you continued rolling your hips.

“Fuck.”

Eddie’s swollen lips hung low while soft, strained breaths slipped from him. His eyebrows had been pulled into a deep furrow when you angled your hips, bumping his leaking tip against your clit.

“Are you gonna help me?” you mumbled, voice low and breathless. “Or am I gonna have to figure out how to do this on my own?”

He tilted his head back, low groans escaping his lips with every other roll of your hips against his. Then, like your words had finally sunk in, he started nodding frantically and gave your hip another squeeze.

“H-hips up, Sweetheart,” he managed to breath out, and moved his hands from your hips to your thighs, helping you up. “L-line me up. Take all the time you need, yeah?”

A soft sigh left you as you wrapped your fingers around his cock, and followed his instructions. Your breath hitched when your wet slit caught his swollen, pre-cum leaking tip. For a moment, you stayed like that: hovering over his cock, chest moving up and down in failed attempts of catching your breath. Then, like Eddie had told you to, you took your time sinking down on his length.  

“Fuck,” you breathed out, stopping halfway as you tried getting used to the stretch. Dragging a hand through his hair, you pulled tightly at his roots. “You feel– Jesus. You feel so good, Eds.”

Eddie groaned against your lips, half lidded eyes staring back at you. He let go of your thigh, trailing a hand up your back until he reached your neck, pulling you in for another kiss to distract him from how tight you felt. His tongue slid against you in messy, slick strokes, while groans spilled from his mouth into yours.

Then, without warning, you pushed your hips down in one, fluid movement. Both of your breaths hitched almost simultaneously as Eddie’s tip hit places he’d never reached before.

“F-fuck. Are y-you okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, mouth hanging open, and tightened your hold on his hair even more. Slowly opening your eyes, you found Eddie already staring back. “You fill me up so well.”

The two of you sat like that for a few more second, his cock twitching inside your fluttering pussy, sharing breaths like you needed each other to live.

Eddie’s hand trailed softly down your back, finding the underside of your thigh again, and gave you a soft squeeze that translated into whenever you’re ready. Giving him a faint nod, you pushed your hips up until only his tip rested inside of you before you sank back down. His fingers sank into the soft flesh of your thighs, helping you bounce on his lap.

“Talk to me, Eds,” you whimpered against his lips. “I need to hear your voice.”

The protruding veins around his length dragged deliciously every time you moved up and down, pulling barely contained high-pitched whimpers every time he hit that special, hidden spot. Your nails dug crescents into his scalp, while you pushed him impossibly closer with the arm around his neck.

“W-what?” he groaned out, followed by broken moans of your name.

“Tell me,” you breathed out, resting your forehead against his. “About your… fuck. F-fantasies?”

The room was filled with wet slaps, mixed with barely contained groans and whimpers. He continued helping you, fingertips gripping tightly at your thighs, giving you the occasional thrust when he couldn’t help himself.

“P-please, Eds,” you whispered as you let your head fall against the crook of his neck. You clenched helplessly around him, grinding down on him as you slowed your pace.

“Shit.”

Your breath was hot against his neck, spreading a whole different wave of warmth down his skin. You hadn’t stopped your movements entirely, just enough to let him know you wouldn’t pick the pace up until you got what you wanted.

Eddie’s cock twitched as his cheeks flushed warm and pink, while he turned your request in his mind and tried pushing away the shame that had slowly started to settle underneath his skin.

“You’re gonna kill me one day,” he whispered, barely above a breath, and trusted into you when he’d started to get desperate for more. “Y-you really wanna know?”

You nodded against his neck, softly whimpering his name in his ear before a barely contained yelp spilled from your lips.

Eddie had slipped his arms around your frame and rolled the both of you until your back was flush against the bed. His loose curls draped around your face, and his necklace hit the tip of your nose as you bounced on the mattress.

Then he trailed his hands back to your thighs, pulling one up high on his waist as he sank deeper into your slick heat, and pushed the other open wider.

“Like I said, I wanna own you,” he groaned lowly, leaning down to place wet, open-mouthed kissed against your neck. “Pump you full of my cum until it fucking takes.”

Like Eddie needed to make it clear, he accentuated the last word that had slipped from his mouth with a sharp thrust, cock kissing your cervix. He let out a humourless laugh against your skin, gritting his teeth as he continued rolling his hips against yours.

With a broken moan, he slipped out of your leaking pussy, and desperately reached for the hem of your shirt, fingers curling tightly around the fabric as he all but tore it off of your frame.

“Wanna see these perfect tits round with milk,” Eddie panted out lowly, grabbing one of your nipples and giving it a harsh tug. He smoothed the sting down with his tongue, giving the hardened nub frantic flicks. “Wanna walk you around town, show everyone you’re carrying my baby.”

He groaned against your chest, replying to your broken moans as he sucked harshly at your nipple, while his other hand trailed between your bodies. He gave himself a lazy tug as he lined himself with your greedy pussy, and snapped his cock back into you with a harsh, desperate thrust. Air was knocked out of your lungs as he kept pounding into you. He’s panting in your ear, doing his damnedest to keep the slapping of skin against skin low, afraid of waking up the man sleeping down the hall.

“Fuck. You like that, don’t you?” he chuckled darkly as he pushed himself up, eyes set on memorising every little twist of your fucked out face. “Can feel it by the way you’re clenching around me.”

You’re so fucking wet around him, gushing uncontrollably with every hard thrust he gave you, every word that he spoke in your ear. You clung to his cock, pulsing, greedily wanting him to stay buried deep inside your pussy.

“P-please, Eds,” you cried out, tugging at his hair. “G-give me it.”

“Yeah? You want my cum?” he breathed out, giving your nipple a hard pull, your ass a hard slap of his balls. “You want me to fill you up? Put a baby in you?”

“Y-yes! Fuckfuckfuck.” Your breathing is raucous. You snake your free hand down his back, reaching for the supple flesh of his ass, pushing him harder into you. “Lemme make you a daddy, Eddie.”

“J-Jesus,” he moaned out, hips faltering for a split second before he picked up the pace. He let go of your nipple, trailing his calloused hand down your bodies until he reached your slick clit. “C’mon, princess. Need you to cum first.”

Eddie drew tight circles on your soaked and swollen clit, doing his absolute best not to let his thumb slip away. You trembled under his touch. The combination of his filthy words, the harsh thrusts of his cock sliding in and out of your greedy pussy, and the extra stimulation of his fingers got your toes curling, body stiffening as the tight knot in your belly finally snapped.

Your vision was blurry when you stared up at him, mouth hanging low as desperate pleas slipped from your mouth.

“G-gimme it, E-Eddie,” you sobbed out, digging your fingers deeper into the milky flesh of his ass as you kept moaning out encouragements. “Fill me up, p-please.”

Like a man possessed, he snapped his hips faster, filling the room with the hard, wet sounds of his balls hitting you. His cock twitched, threatening to give you exactly what you wanted.

“I’m cumming. Fuck, I-I’m–” he groaned out against your lips. “G-gonna fill you up so good, Sweetheart.”

Eddie jerked forwards as he gave your throbbing pussy a particularly hard thrust, cock twitching as he shot his load deep inside of you. You turned into a boneless, trembling mess when you felt the first warm spurt of his cum tainting your pussy.

He slowly came to a stop, but he kept his hip flushed against yours, making sure that not even a single drop of his cum had the chance to leak out.

“Fuck.”

“T-that was… fucking amazing,” you trailed off slowly, gulping for air. A low, breathless chuckle managed to escape your lips as you gave Eddie’s ass a joking slap.

Eddie’s cock twitched at the fleeting thought of doing that again – fucking without a condom, filling you up while he moaned filthy words in your ears.

He gulped down a dry lump, brushing the tip of his nose against your neck to breathe in the sweet, sweaty scent of your skin.

“Y-yeah?” he asked after a while, and pushed himself up to get a proper look at you. “It wasn’t… weird, or anything?”

“Strangely hot, actually,” you corrected with a tired grin, and let go of his ass to cradle his cheek instead. “We can do it again sometime, if you wanna.”

He blinked dumbly at you, letting his eyes trail across your features as he tried getting his heartrate back to normal.

“What?”

“As long as I’m on the pill, we should be fine,” you added quietly, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Because I’m serious, I do not wanna have a baby at eighteen.”

That pulled a warm, belly-aching laugh out of Eddie, followed by sharp hissing when his sensitive cock, still buried deep in your pussy, twitched uncontrollably.

“Believe me, Sweetheart,” he whispered after a second. “I’m not ready to be a dad just yet, either.”

The warm glimmer in his eyes made you think he wasn’t being all that sincere, but the squint you gave him was quickly replaced with a tired chuckle.

 “You’re so full of shit, Edward,” you said while shaking your head. “Please don’t cry when you pull out, hm?”

“You’re so mean,” he mumbled under his breath.

“You love it when I’m mean,” you winked at him.

Eddie hissed as he pulled out, eyes glued to the creamy ring around his cock, your words drowning out for a moment as his eyes trailed down to his milky cum slowly leaking out of your pussy.

“Fuck, yeah, I do,” he mumbled absentmindedly. Eddie blinked heavily, breath hitching as his fingers twitched against your thigh. Licking his lips, he weighed down the fleeting thought for a second before giving in.

Before it had any chance of rolling down your ass and hitting his bed, Eddie scooped the thick drop of cum and pushed it back inside.

“But what I really love,” he whispered and flickered his gaze to yours as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you, “is filling you up. Don’t think I can go back to using condoms, Sweetheart.”

The heavy, silver ring on his finger bumped against the rim of your slit every time he thrusted his finger into you, coaxing slow, desperate groans out of you. He pulled out his finger for a quick moment, just long enough for him to kneel on the floor and pull you closer to the edge of the bed.

“Gotta make sure it takes, baby,” he breathed out, holding back a moan of his own as he flickered his gaze back to your pussy, pushing his finger back in and watching his cum-tainted digit disappear. Then, almost inaudibly: “Lemme have this fantasy, hm?”

Nodding dumbly at his words, your eyes fell shut and your head tilted back as broken whimpers escaped your lips. You gave him an accidental roll of your hips, desperate for more.

“Please, Eds.” You swallowed the dry lump that had suddenly settled in your throat.

“Yeah?” He grinned as he added a second finger and leaned down to catch your clit with his lips. He made out with the swollen nub, alternating between soft flicks and harsh sucks. “You wanna know what I think, hm?”

Your chest heaved up and down as you nodded absentmindedly, too fucked out to really pay attention at whatever he was saying.

“I think that you love this as much as I do,” he chuckled darkly, picking up the pace of his fingers. “This pretty pussy doesn’t lie, Sweetheart. You’re desperate for it to take too, hm?”

Eddie gave you another hard thrust, fingertips pushing against that hidden spot that made you see stars. Your legs trembled around his frame, pussy fluttering around his digits as he quickly brought you to the edge of a second orgasm.

“Answer me, Sweetheart.”

“Y-yes! Yes, I am,” you cried out, pushing your hips against his fingers.

“Yeah?” he chuckled out, and brought his lips back to your clit.

Eddie gave you a few more thrusts of his fingers, followed by harsh sucks at your clit, and didn’t stop until you were clenching hard around him. You bucked your hips into his mouth, hoping to prolong the mind-numbing waves of ecstasy.

“J-Jesus, fuck!”

Eddie’s eyes stayed glued to your face, while your legs closed tightly around his head, keeping him there for a moment longer while your vision whitened and breath hitched.

“You’re so pretty when you cum for me,” he whispered against your clit, before chuckling when he felt your limp hand trying to push him away. “Can’t go anywhere with those legs around my head, Sweetheart.”

He laughed under his breath as he tapped your thigh a few times before wrapping his hands around you and loosening your grip around his head. Eddie then climbed back onto the bed and pulled you against his chest, dragging his clean hand through your messy hair while he pressed a few lingering kisses against your temple.

You snuggled deeper into his embrace, your breath fanning softly across his skin as you mumbled something incomprehensible against his chest.

“What?” he asked between quiet chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face.

“I said,” you repeated a little louder, blinking lazily up at him, “I think you just killed me.”

“You don’t seem that dead to me,” he snorted.

“I feel pretty dead,” you mumbled.

A smile tugged at Eddie’s lips as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Can we order some pizza?” you asked after a moment.

“Pregnancy cravings already starting?” Eddie couldn’t help but snort under his breath, ignoring the muffled ugh that slipped from your mouth. “We can order all the pizza you want, Sweetheart.”

Eddie’s new workplace was a cathedral of metal and motion.

Concrete floors sloped gently towards grated drains, stained with oil and darkened where tires rested. Pegboards lined the walls, holding wrenches, sockets, and pliers in neat rows, while cords and air hoses hung from ceiling reels overhead.

During the first few days at the garage, Eddie had done his best to keep his toolbox organised. After a week of finding his tools scattered across the shop floor – or missing entirely until they mysteriously reappeared – he’d decided sharing the garage’s communal toolboxes with his coworkers wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Despite having worked there for only a little over three weeks, he’d already found his footing in the efficient, slightly impatient rhythm of the garage. It hadn’t taken him long to get used to the quick gestures, half-finished sentences, and unspoken understanding that seemed to pass between the mechanics. Jokes and terse advice were exchanged in between repairs, usually without anyone pausing long enough to look up from what they were doing.

Eddie was halfway underneath a car, the sharp scent of gasoline mixing with solvents and brake cleaner, when you pulled into the compound and parked in one of the employee spaces.

“Munson! Your girl is here,” the owner, Jared, called as he stepped out of the tiny break room with a clipboard tucked under one arm. “Again.”

“Cheer up, Jare,” you replied as you stepped further into the garage. “Brought treats for y’all.”

While Eddie rolled the creeper out from beneath the car and made his way towards you, Jared’s expression transformed the second he noticed the large brown paper bags in your hands.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart,” he declared, already reaching for one.

“Watch it,” Eddie muttered, doing his best to scrub the grease from his hands with the handkerchief that usually stuck out of his back pocket. “Only I get to call her that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jared replied dismissively as he took the bag and headed towards the break room. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, boy.”

“Don’t get my panties in a twist,” he muttered under his breath, a slight scowl settling on his face. “I’m gonna show him some panties in a twist, asshole.”

“That’s your boss, Eds.” You tilted your head, a smile tugging at your lips.

Setting the remaining bag on the hood of the car, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

“Don’t care. Only I get to call you that.”

A chuckle escaped you as you shook your head.

Eddie smelled strongly of sweat and transmission fluid, with an underlying hint of coffee – a scent that had become more and more familiar with each passing day.

“No need for jealousy,” you teased before stealing a quick kiss.

“Not jealous,” he mumbled, his hands settling on your hips. He gave them a gentle squeeze. “Just–”

“Marking your territory?”

Eddie blinked at the raised eyebrows you shot him, and then immediately darted his gaze elsewhere.

“No comment,” he muttered eventually.

Another laugh bubbled out of you.

He pulled you in for one more quick kiss before finally releasing you and reaching for the brown paper bag.

Then he froze.

Slowly, his eyes drifted from the bag to you – and then down, and back up again.

“Did I forget something important?”

“What?”

His gaze lingered on the dress you’d thrown on that morning, taking in the way the fabric hugged your frame and how the colour seemed almost unfairly suited to you.

“You look a little too good for a simple visit,” he murmured.

His eyes travel upwards again before coming to another halt.

Your cleavage.

Of course.

“Oh, I’m so killing Jared today.”

“For looking at me?” you deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

“Have you seen yourself in the mirror today?” he asked incredulously. “Sweetheart, you’re killing me here.”

“You’ll survive,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“Doubtful.”

Despite his own rules, Eddie leaned back against the hood of the car he’d been working on moments earlier, stretching his legs out in front of him as he set the brown paper bag beside him.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long. He then licked his lips before finally shaking his head and dragging himself out of whatever thoughts had taken hold.

“You’re giving me that look,” you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips.

“What look?”

“The one you always get when you’re thinking about getting me pregnant?”

The words were barely out of your mouth before a laugh escaped you.

Embarrassing him with that joke would never get old.

Eddie’s cheeks immediately flushed a bright shade of pink, and he flicked his eyes away for a moment.

“No comment,” he muttered.

“Yeah, right.”

The battery chargers continued their steady beeping while the heavy stomp of work boots against concrete filled the brief silence between you.

Eddie finally looked inside the bag you’d brought him, and his eyes immediately widened.

Two sandwiches wrapped in plastic foil – egg, ham, tomato, cheese, and a generous spread of mayo; just the way he liked it – two muffins with extra chocolate chips, and a carton of his favourite juice.

“You forgot to make yourself breakfast and lunch this morning,” you murmured, your eyes lingering on his face.

Eddie looked back down at the bag before a soft smile tugged at his lips.

“You spoil me,” he said quietly, holding out a hand towards you.

“Not spoiling.” You slipped your fingers between his. “Just loving you.”

For a moment, Eddie didn’t say anything as he simply looked at you, then down at the food for a brief second before bringing his eyes back towards you.

“Yeah,” he murmured, pulling you closer for a lingering kiss. “You’re pretty good at that.”

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[comfortwriting]

time of the month - eddie munson x fem!reader

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requested: you come on your period when your boyfriend, Eddie, comes over, and panic. He doesn’t quite understand why until you tell him how your ex treated you on your time of the month.

warnings: didn’t proofread, readers ex is a vile human, sprinkle of misogynistic energy from him?? Period shaming, blood (duh), Eddie is a sweetie, tooth rotting fluff.

word count: 1.7k

"You okay, babe?" Eddie called out, following you into your bedroom. 

The cramps always seemed worse when you were on the first day of your period - the dull ache in your lower stomach, spreading out across your lower back and thundering down your thighs, but when you reached day four, you knew that the pain wasn't getting any better.

"Yeah, just give me a sec," you murmured, bent over, "Just need to grab my balm." 

You had tried almost everything. Dozens of different pain pills, bath salts to soak in the tub with, and now a hemp balm; hopeful that it would work, but not too hopeful to deny the disappointing reality.

You tried to shuffle over to your dressing table, but you couldn't move your heavy legs and aching thighs. As the cramps intensified, you hunched over further, gripping at your stomach and lowly groaning, screwing your eyes shut. Your pad also sat uncomfortably in your underwear, slightly twisted at the back, and the adhesive was coming loose. 

Fuck. Why is this happening now? I should've rescheduled.

Why didn't I tell him I was coming on and for him to stay home? He'll be pissed when he realises...

"What is it?" Eddie asked, "What do you need?"

Eddie noticed the dullness in your eyes and the slight knitting of your eyebrows to know that something was wrong. You were always bubbly with a little hop and skip in your step, so to see you struggling to stay on your feet was ringing the alarm bells in his head.

"It's fine, I can get it." He said sofly, gently placing a hand on your waist, leading you closer to the bed. 

You knew you couldn't get to balm now. If you tried, you'd either fall to the floor or risk your pad falling down the leg of your pyjamas, risking a thick trickle of blood to follow after. 

"What do you need?" Eddie repeated, not taking your refusals for an answer. 

You sighed, already feeling useless, "Please can you pass me the balm in the green tin?" You pointed towards your dressing table, tucked in the corner of your bedroom.

Eddie stood up, walked over and grabbed the green tin, which looked tiny in his hands. He focused on the floral and herb illustration over the front of the tin, and traced the weed leaf with the pad of his thumb.

"What's goin' on?" Eddie asked, his wide doe eyes full with worry, giving you the balm, "Since when did you use this sort of balm?"   

"It's nothing," you were quick with your response.

Periods were normal and nothing to be ashamed of but your ex-boyfriend's change in behaviour every time you came on was enough to make you feel embarrassed and dirty; the sight of a pad repulsed him, and if any blood managed to seep through your clothing or onto the chair you were sitting on, he'd lose his mind. 

"You're disgusting!" he whined, throwing a towel at you fast and hard, almost whipping you with it. 

You could feel the shame burning the tips of your ears and weighing heavily in the bottom of your stomach, "I can't help it! Do you honestly think that any of us enjoys going through this? Do you think that we enjoy the bleeding, the cramps, and the monthly cost of tampons and pads?!"

You wouldn't defend yourself when he'd start mouthing off, you'd stay quiet and bully yourself, scolding yourself for bleeding, but you were starting to grow tired of becoming a punching bag for something you couldn't control. 

"Oh, stop complaining!" He raised his voice over you, "It's all you lot do, whinge and whine. I knew periods made you moody, but I didn't realise they turned you into a total bitch!" 

It wasn't just his vile outlook on this natural function that took a toll on you, but it was his lack of sympathy and zero ability to provide the simplest of care when you were in bed, struggling, writhing in pain. 

"I'm sorry to ask," you started, "but the pain is getting really bad again, please can you grab my heat pad? I don't think I can make it out of bed."

Rather than returning with what you asked with a hand on your shoulder or a kiss on your head, you were denied care, you were every single time, you didn't even know why you asked, you knew he wouldn't help anyway. 

"Can't you see I'm in the middle of something? If I die in this game, I'll have to start all over again. Get it yourself, you're blowing this way out of proportion."

"doesn't look like nothing," Eddie crawled onto your bed, watching you slowly drag your feet over before lying back against the pillows.

Carefully, you tugged your loose-fitting pyjama pants down and pulled off the lid of the tin. Using your index and middle finger, you scooped up the creamy balm, evenly and gently spreading it across your abdomen 

"Thank you for getting it for me, I won't ever ask again." You panicked, but trying to keep your voice steady . 

Eddie's eyebrows knitted together more, bunching up and he hesitated for a moment, almost keeping quiet, but he couldn't. This wasn't like you.

"You're never like this." He tilted his head, "Just tell me what's up, I'm getting worried, babe."

"It's uhh..." you swallowed hard, "I'm on my period... I know I should've told you not to come over and I know I need to suck it up, I usually do but I'm in agony, and don't worry about any blood getting on your jeans, I put a towel down on the mattress before you came over."

He's going to leave. He's going to be so pissed.

Eddie wanted to laugh at first until he realised how ashamed you were. The sight of you struggling to massage the balm into yourself made his heart ache. 

"Sweetheart," he cooed, "pass me the balm."

"It's okay, I've got this-" 

"Pass me the balm."

Looking into Eddie's dark eyes, you were greeted with warmth, softness, and sympathy. His palm was out, hovering over your stomach. 

Dampening your lips with your tongue, you gave him the balm and watched as he scooped it out onto his fingers before gently spreading it on your stomach. His touch was firm but not aggressive, and he massaged the balm into you in circular motions, careful not to press too hard.

Your heart went fluttery at his touch, and how happy he looked to be massaging you; he was focused and relaxed.

"First of all, there's nothing wrong with a little blood spilling when it's your time of the month. Second, why the hell didn't you tell me? I would've got you a heat pad or something."

The whiplash caught you off guard, and rather than focusing on Eddie's hands, you were staring at him, unable to believe what he said. So casually, with no passive aggression.

He noticed you staring at him and pulled back a little, still massaging you, "What?" he asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips, "Did you think this would bother me?" 

Go on, tell him.

"I'm not used to that response," you spoke up, your voice hollow, "my ex... he... didn't get it."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, "What's not to get?"

If only you knew.. 

"Did he have an extreme phobia of blood or something?" Eddie continued.

You sat up just enough for your boyfriend to stop massaging before lifting the towel from under you and passing it to Eddie so he could wipe the excess oils from his hands. 

A long sigh escaped your lips, "He didn't have a phobia, he just blamed me, every time I came on, he'd force me to keep away from him." You took a breath, "I couldn't sit near him, if I was in pain, I had to be quiet about it and get on with it on my own, he'd make me feel disgusting for..."

"For menstruating? Seriously? What a loser." Eddie scoffed.

He finished wiping his hands and folded the towel up before, wrapping an arm around you.

"You should've told me, I would've... I don't know, got you some pills, brought you some weed you could smoke, some chocolate or whatever you're needing."

You felt a little pathetic at the tears welling up in your eyes. This was the bare minimum, but you'd never had it before. You were denied it and refused to believe that you'd ever get it.

"The heat pad you mentioned earlier did sound nice," you admitted, blinking away your tears. 

Eddie pressed a kiss to your temple, nuzzling his nose into you as the balm slowly absorbed into your skin. With his arm still around you, he pulled you into his arms with enough room for you to rest your head on his shoulder. 

"How about I go and get you that heat pad from the store, maybe stop by Family Video and rent out whatever movie you want to watch, and we can order a pizza. Sound good?" 

You couldn't tell if it was a placebo effect from the new balm you were trying or if Eddie's compassion was truly easing the pain.

"That sounds perfect, Eds." You murmured, nuzzling into him, "Thank you."

"Nope, no, don't want to hear a thank you," he smirked, "it's the bare minimum, princess."

Eddie kept his word. 

Each month, when you were due, he'd have the heat pad ready, or a hot bath, with extra fluffy and absorbent towels he could wrap around you when you managed to climb out of the tub. 

When blood trickled down your inner thighs and dropped to the floor, Eddie would wipe it up without complaint, reassuring you that it was just blood - nothing gross, nothing to apologise over or be embarrassed about; he didn't think twice, he didn't even blink.

If you were painfully bloated and not in the mood to eat, Eddie saved the pizza for another day and offered you something settling to drink instead. You'd fall asleep to him massaging your scalp and stroking your hair, or helping to ease the crushing pain in your pelvis and lower back.

Bizarrely, this time of the month (aside from the pain) became your favourite. You and Eddie, dead to the rest of the world, curled up in bed together, peacefully getting by without embarrassment or shame.

reblogging is a writers bestfriend :)

[burgundysnow]

Hey! idk if your requests are open but if they are i have one.

In short, Steddie and Reader have been together for several years. One day, she’s feeling really horny but doesn’t want to tell the guys because she’s a little embarrassed, she’s also a little embarrassed to tell them she wants them to choke her and pull her hair. When they find out, they tease her a little, but eventually they take care of her, and it all ends on a cute note. Thanks!

Awww!!! I haven’t gotten a steddie request in a hot minute this was so nice. Word count: 0.8k Warnings: poly, threesome. Established relationship. Slightly suggestive. Hair pulling.

“My poor girl.” 

Steve coo’s from behind you. A brush slides down your damp hair, one he controls. You sit between Steve’s legs on the floor so he had a better angle at brushing your hair, Eddie sits off to the side and picks at his guitar. It’s dark outside and the tv is softly playing in the background. 

It’s one of those days where you just feel drained. Maybe you cried at work once or twice, just a few frustrated tears. And maybe your skin felt itchy from the anxiety, anxious deadlines creeping up on your back like a giant bug. Wishing you could swat it away but it was too heavy, making your chest tighten and getting harder to breathe. 

Metaphor or not it was a rough day. Bad day. Tiring day at work. You probably shouldn’t complain considering both Steve and Eddie have their fair share of responsibilities too. Their own deadlines. 

But they take care of you so well. When you almost bawled your eyes out to Eddie about your shitty day he hugged you first, told you to get in the shower and that he’d join you in a minute. 

Only to secretly call Harrington and tell him not to skimp out on the ice cream tonight. They both made you feel like a princess. 

Steve is brushing your hair because he likes doing it. If Eddie did it he would brush through maybe once or twice before throwing it up in a messy braid. But Steve takes his time, combing through again and again and again until its completely knot free because he knows you like the sensations. 

 So Steve brushes your hair (for a long time) while Eddie will swoop in later to braid it. Then dinner will be eaten with ice cream after and maybe if you’re lucky the night will end with a bang. 

A very moan worthy, breath hitching. Copious amounts of touching bang. 

It sounds silly. To want sex after coming home from doing such draining work. But it makes sense in your head, having done all the rough stuff you just want a little bit more— so that when the days over you feel completed. 

The brush abruptly snags on a small knot at the bottom and it makes an unattractive sound. 

“Oh— sorry honey, that had to hurt.” Steve apologizes quickly; you hum. 

“No, not really.” 

“What you like it or something?” Eddie teases over his guitar playing. Just wanting to be included. 

“What? No! I just— Steve is really gentle and—“ 

“He’s teasing baby.” 

Steve’s thumb rubs your upper arm while his other hand, even more gentle tries to get the tiny knot out. 

You like it. You really do. But that gentleness can’t stay forever. Eddie’s teasing words ring in your head. You like it? Maybe. 

“If I did like it….?”

Voice barely above a whisper Eddie has to stop playing and Steve leans in to hear you. 

“What, the hair pulling or the teasing?” 

You shift just a little bit on the carpet. Now both their eyes are on you and you’re admitting something you’ve never voiced before. 

Eddie doesn’t like his hair getting pulled. He makes that abundantly clear with how he never lets Steve brush his hair. 

Steve only likes his hair getting tugged in the heat of the moment— but lives for head scratches. 

None of them particularly like the rough stuff with there scalp. No twisting hair around their hands or using it as a guide. No pulling or tugging. How would they react to you saying this? Their sweet girl. 

Heart pounding in your ears it already to late to go back on your words now. If you’d tried Eddie would beg and Steve would say stop, but it would only make you feel guilty because you know he wants to know too. 

“The….the hair stuff.” 

“You like your hair being pulled?” Eddie’s aghast voice makes you look down in embarrassment. Like he could never imagine someone as weird as liking that. 

“Ed’s stop.” Steve chastises and the brush in his hand stills for a moment. “Do you like it baby?” 

You shrug; this doesn’t have to be made into a big deal. 

“It’s okay if you do.” 

Eddie reluctantly agrees with a hum. 

“I… I mean I guess. I like the idea of it. No one’s ever really tried before.” 

Steve tuts as if to silently say that’s our fault. “Do you want to? Try it?” 

Chewing on your bottom lip you think it over. Scalp already itching with anticipation. “We don’t have to try tonight…” although you really want to. 

“Well there’s no time like the present is there?” Eddie’s already taking off his guitar and setting it by the tv, grabbing your hand to let you up while Steve puts away the hair supplies. 

“Let’s try light okay? roleplay style. I’ll put your hair in two braids then pretend to be the bully in class that likes you. Pulling them to gain your attention.” 

“Eddie.” Steve warns again. Too much teasing but you giggle anyway.   

“Okay okay. Let’s start with tugging you off while sucking my dick first, geez, he takes the fun outta everything.” 

And despite there stupid results you think maybe your bad day will end with a bang. 

[beasbrain]

Casual

description: a story about all the things that looked like love, felt like love, and somehow still weren't enough. if you've ever loved someone so deeply that you started accepting less than you deserved just to keep them close, i hope you know this: you are not too much, and one day you'll never have to question whether you're loved at all.

pairing: eddie munson x henderson!reader (fem!reader)

tags: eddie munson x henderson!reader, angst with no happy ending, hurt no comfort, yearning, lover girl!reader, forehead kisses of doom and despair, right person wrong time (?), almost relationship, death by a thousand paper cuts, "maybe", everyone say thank you therapy, the inherent tragedy of being hopeful, bring tissues, i fear this one hurts, i'm sorry

TW: NSFW (18+) minors do not interact!, PiV, unprotected, misery

WC: 8.5k words of pure anguish

A/N: i apologize in advance for this. this is inspired/based on the songs "Casual" by Chappell Roan and "THE GREATEST" by Billie Eilish. i love you all and i'm very sorry. reblogs are always appreciated <33 enjoy a dose of pain and suffering xoxo

You were always the one who gave people way more credit than they ever deserved. Not because you’re naive, but because you truly saw the good in absolutely everyone. 

Time and time again, you’d meet someone new, overlook every warning sign, excuse every bad decision, and convince yourself there was something underneath it all worth sticking around for.

That maybe they were just having a hard time. Maybe nobody had ever been patient with them before. Maybe all they needed was one person to believe in them.

And every single time, they proved you wrong.

Friends forgot about you the second something better came along. Partners made promises they had no intention of keeping. Family members disappointed you in ways that eventually stopped surprising you. It became a quiet sort of routine, collecting little heartbreaks until they stacked so high you almost expected them.

Still, you never seemed to learn. You'd swear this time was different. This person was different. They wouldn't leave. They wouldn't lie. They wouldn't make you regret trusting them.

Then they always did.

Your mother used to tell you that one day you'd have to stop looking for the best in people and start believing them when they showed you who they were.

You hated hearing it growing up; it sounded cynical and bitter. 

Now, years later, you wondered if she'd simply been trying to spare you. The funny thing was, you convinced yourself that you were used to it. 

You told yourself the disappointment didn't sting as much anymore. That you'd learned to expect it. That every broken promise and every person who drifted away had built up some invisible armor around your heart. It was easier that way.

If you expected people to leave, then they couldn't really surprise you when they did. If you kept your expectations low enough, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much when someone forgot your birthday, stopped returning your calls, or looked right through you like you'd never mattered all that much to begin with.

You got very good at pretending those things didn't bother you. You'd laugh them off, shrug your shoulders, and tell anyone who asked that it wasn't a big deal, that everyone has their own lives, and nobody owes you anything.

But every now and then, usually late at night when there wasn't anything left to distract you, you'd wonder why it always seemed to happen to you.

What was so fundamentally wrong with you that everyone else found it so easy to walk away?

By morning, though, you'd bury the thought somewhere deep enough that even you couldn't find it anymore. Then you'd wake up and give someone else the benefit of the doubt.

God, you wanted it to be Eddie Munson so bad.

Wanted him to be the exception. Wanted him to be the one person who proved every disappointment before him wrong.

It wasn't supposed to happen, honestly. If someone had told you a year ago that you'd end up falling in love with Eddie Munson, you probably would've laughed in their face. Not because there was anything wrong with him, but because Eddie had a way of keeping people at arm's length.

He made a joke out of everything, turned every serious conversation into a bit, and acted like nothing in the world could ever really touch him.

Most people stopped there, but you didn't.

You noticed how he always made sure everyone got home safely after a Hellfire campaign. The way he'd hand over his last cigarette without hesitation. The way he'd remember tiny, insignificant details about people and bring them up weeks later like they mattered.

Like they mattered. Like they mattered to him. And maybe that was what did it. Not some grand gesture or some dramatic declaration.

Just a hundred small moments that slowly convinced you that beneath all the noise, beneath the sarcasm and the theatrics and the reputation everyone loved to throw in his face, there was someone unbelievably good. Someone worth believing in.

So you did, and you believed in him with your whole heart.

Even when your friends warned you not to get too attached. Even when every instinct told you that caring this much about another person was dangerous. Even when a small voice in the back of your mind reminded you how every story like this had ended before.

Because this was Eddie. And God, you wanted it to be Eddie so goddamn bad.

It started small, one day while you were waiting outside of the drama room for Hellfire to end so you could bring Dustin home.

Eddie and Dustin came out last; Eddie's arm slung lazily around Dustin's shoulders while the younger boy looked up at him with the biggest grin you'd ever seen, talking so fast his words practically tripped over each other.

Eddie was listening. Not the distracted kind of listening where someone nods along until it's their turn to speak, but genuinely listening. Laughing in all the right places, asking questions, giving Dustin his full attention like there wasn't anywhere else in the world he'd rather be.

You remembered how upset Dustin had been when he and Steve started to drift apart. Something about Steve caring "more about women" and "breaking bro code," delivered with all the dramatics only a fourteen-year-old could manage.

You'd smiled and comforted him at the time, told him people got busy and that it probably wasn't as personal as he thought.

But watching Eddie now, ruffling Dustin's curls just to annoy him before immediately apologizing with a crooked grin when Dustin swatted his hand away, you realized Steve had left behind something Eddie had picked up without anyone asking him to.

You fully expected him to peel away from Dustin with a quick goodbye and disappear into the crowded hallway with the rest of the students.

Instead, he nudged Dustin forward with a light shove and wandered over to where you were leaning against the wall like he'd been planning to the entire time.

"You ever finish that book?"

You blinked. "What?"

"The one you wouldn't shut up about in English." He pointed at you accusingly. "The one with the... existential crisis or whatever."

You stared at him for a second before laughing. "You mean The Stranger?"

"That's the one."

"I finished it weeks ago."

"And?"

"And it was good."

He scrunched his nose. "That's it? You spent ten minutes arguing with Mrs. O'Donnell about symbolism and your review is 'it was good?'"

You couldn't help smiling. "I'm trying to avoid spoiling it."

"For me?"

"You were listening?"

He looked almost offended. "'Course I was listening." The words shouldn't have lodged themselves in your chest the way they did.

It had been weeks. One offhand discussion in a class Eddie barely seemed awake for half the time, and somehow he'd remembered not only the conversation but the specific book you'd been talking about.

It was such a stupid little thing. But nobody ever remembered the little things about you. And somehow, Eddie Munson did.

As the weeks went on, you suddenly became much more interested in waiting in the hallway for Dustin instead of the parking lot like you normally would. You told yourself it was because it was warmer inside.

Because sometimes he took forever to pack up. Because it saved him from having to look around for you.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Eddie Munson inevitably came walking out of the drama room a few minutes later. Absolutely nothing.

Somehow, the conversations became expected.

He'd see you leaning against the lockers and make a beeline over with that same lazy smile, asking about your classes or complaining about a teacher or launching into some dramatic retelling of Gareth doing something stupid during Hellfire.

And every single time he talked to you, it was like the rest of the hallway ceased to exist. He looked at you. Not over your shoulder. Not around the room. Not scanning for someone more interesting to interrupt the conversation.

When you made a joke, he'd laugh without hesitation, his whole face lighting up like he'd genuinely found it funny instead of politely humoring you.

Sometimes he'd laugh so hard he'd have to look down and shake his head before looking back up at you with that stupid grin that was becoming increasingly difficult to stop thinking about.

The first time he held eye contact for so long that you had to glance away first, he just smiled wider. It made your stomach do something embarrassing.

By the time Dustin finally wandered over with his backpack half-open and a handful of dice threatening to spill onto the floor, Eddie would always clap him on the shoulder, throw you a casual, "See you tomorrow," and head off toward the parking lot, like he already knew there'd be a tomorrow.

One afternoon, after Eddie disappeared through the front doors, Dustin buckled himself into the passenger seat with a look on his face that immediately made you suspicious. "What?"

He didn't answer; he just looked at you.

"What?" you repeated.

A grin slowly spread across his face. "Oh, my God."

"What?"

"He likes you."

You nearly missed the key trying to start the car. "Dustin."

"He does."

"He absolutely does not."

"He asked me if you had a boyfriend."

You turned so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. "He what?"

Dustin shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"We were at lunch yesterday. Just me and Mike. He sat down and was acting all weird, and then he goes, 'So... your sister seeing anybody?'"

Your face immediately warmed.

"And what," you asked carefully, "did you say?"

"I told him no."

"Dustin."

"What? It's true."

"Dustin."

He looked over with the most smug expression you'd ever seen on a fourteen-year-old.

"Then he goes, 'Huh.'"

"Huh?"

"Just 'huh.'" Dustin mimicked him with a terrible impression. "'Just curious.'"

You stared straight ahead at the windshield, trying very hard to pretend your heart wasn't threatening to beat its way out of your chest. Beside you, Dustin snorted.

"I can literally hear you smiling."

"I'm not smiling."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"You totally have a crush on Eddie."

You finally looked over at him. “Shut up.”

His grin was so wide you could’ve worn his eyes would pop out of their sockets. “Never.”

The first time Eddie approached you when Dustin wasn't anywhere in sight, you were halfway convinced he had the wrong person.

You were standing at your locker, trying to force an algebra textbook that absolutely did not fit into a space that absolutely wasn't big enough, when a familiar voice sounded beside you.

"So."

You looked over to find Eddie leaning against the neighboring locker with his arms folded across his chest, rocking back on his heels with an almost suspicious amount of casualness.

"So?" you echoed.

"So..." He scratched the back of his neck. "You busy tonight?"

You blinked. "Tonight?"

He nodded once. Your brain, completely abandoning you, decided to stop functioning. 

"No?" It came out sounding far more like a question than an answer.

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "No?"

"No," you repeated quickly. "No, I'm not."

He nodded to himself like he'd just confirmed a theory. "Cool."

You waited for him to elaborate; he didn't. Instead, he looked down at the floor, nudged the toe of his sneaker against the tile once, then looked back up at you.

"Meet me at the Hideout."

Your heart skipped so hard it was almost painful. "The Hideout?"

"Mhm."

"When?"

"Eight."

You stared at him for another second. "Why?"

His smile widened into something almost boyish. "If I tell you, it'll ruin the surprise."

"Eddie."

"C'mon."

"What if it's something weird?"

"It is something weird."

"That is not reassuring."

He laughed, a quiet one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. "I promise it's a good weird."

You narrowed your eyes. "I don't know..."

He placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "You wound me."

"I don't even know if this is a date."

His eyebrows shot up for the briefest moment before he covered it with another crooked grin. "I didn't say it was."

"You also didn't say it wasn't."

He took a tiny step backward, already beginning to walk away. "Eight o'clock."

"Eddie."

"No excuses."

"What am I even supposed to wear?"

He glanced back over his shoulder. "You'll look pretty no matter what."

And then, before your brain could catch up enough to formulate any kind of response, he turned and disappeared into the sea of students.

You stood frozen in front of your locker for another thirty seconds. When you finally managed to move, you shut it without grabbing a single one of the books you'd opened it for.

By seven-thirty, you had somehow managed to convince yourself not to go. By seven-thirty-five, you had changed your outfit again. By seven-forty-five, you were sitting in your car with both hands gripping the steering wheel, wondering if there was still enough time to fake a flat tire. By seven-fifty, you were pulling into the Hideout parking lot.

The building looked exactly the same as it always did, all faded neon and cigarette smoke drifting out every time someone opened the front door, yet somehow it felt entirely different. Your palms were sweating.

You caught your reflection in the rearview mirror for what had to be the twentieth time before taking a deep breath and climbing out. The second you stepped inside, Eddie looked up.

He'd been halfway through saying something to Gareth at the bar, but the moment he saw you, he stopped in the middle of his sentence and broke into a smile so genuine it almost made you forget how to walk.

"There she is."

He excused himself without another word and crossed the room toward you. "You came."

"You told me to."

"I was hoping you would."

There was something about the way he looked at you that made it impossible to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds.

Every time your eyes drifted away, you'd find him already looking back, smiling like he knew exactly what he was doing.

"You look..." He paused for a second, looking you over just enough to make your heart start racing. "Really pretty."

You laughed nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I almost didn't come."

"I'm really glad you did." The words came so naturally that you almost didn't know what to do with them.

He led you over to a quieter booth tucked against the wall, waving off a couple of people who called his name along the way.

Every conversation seemed to circle back to you somehow: your classes, your favorite music, what you wanted to do after graduation, stories from when you and Dustin were kids.

And every answer you gave was met with complete attention. No scanning the room. No waiting for his turn to talk. Just Eddie, chin resting against his hand, looking at you like every sentence was worth hearing.

At one point, you made some stupid self-deprecating joke under your breath.

He frowned. "Don't do that."

"What?"

"Talk about yourself like that."

You blinked. "I was kidding."

"I know." His expression softened. "I just don't think it's true."

The conversation moved on, but you couldn't. You were still thinking about it ten minutes later.

By the time the waitress came by with another round of drinks, Eddie had somehow managed to compliment your laugh, tell you your taste in music was "criminally underrated," insist you had "the prettiest eyes in Hawkins," and inform you that your opinions on horror movies were objectively correct.

"You know," you finally said with a suspicious smile, "you're awfully complimentary tonight."

He looked entirely unapologetic. "Should I stop?"

"...No."

"No?"

"No."

"Good." He grinned. "Because I wasn't planning on it."

You laughed again, shaking your head. He watched you for a second before reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulling out a pen.

"So."

"So?"

"You got a phone?"

You looked at him like he'd grown another head. "...Yes?"

"Good." He held the pen out toward you. "Need your number."

"My number?"

"Mhm."

"What for?"

He gave you the most incredulous look imaginable. "So I can call you."

"You could just ask Dustin where I live."

"I could."

He leaned a little closer across the table, his voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip. "But I'd rather have an excuse to hear your voice."

You could actually feel your pulse in your fingertips. Without another word, you reached over, took the pen from his hand, and scribbled your number across the back of a paper napkin.

He looked down at it, smiled to himself, and folded it with surprising care before tucking it safely into his wallet, like it was something worth keeping.

The drive home felt shorter than it ever had before.

You caught yourself smiling at a red light for absolutely no reason, quickly looking around to make sure no one in the car next to you had noticed before realizing there wasn't even another car there.

Every few miles, you'd replay another little piece of the night. The way he'd looked at you the second you walked in. The way he'd leaned across the table to hear you better, even though the music wasn't all that loud.

The ridiculous amount of compliments he'd managed to slip into completely normal conversations without making them sound rehearsed.

The napkin folded neatly into his wallet. God.

You actually had to grip the steering wheel a little tighter just to stop yourself from smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

By the time you pulled into your driveway, your face genuinely ached. You sat there for another minute with the engine still running, staring at nothing in particular and laughing quietly to yourself like a complete idiot.

It felt embarrassing. It felt juvenile. It felt like every cheesy romance novel you'd ever secretly read under the covers with a flashlight. And for the first time in a long time, it felt nice.

You'd barely made it through the front door before your mother called from the kitchen to ask how your night had been.

"It was good," you answered, hoping she couldn't hear the grin in your voice.

"Just good?"

You kicked your shoes off by the door, trying very hard to sound casual. "Yeah. Good."

She peeked around the corner, took one look at your face, and smiled to herself. You immediately looked away.

After a quick shower and far too much time standing in front of the bathroom mirror replaying every second of the night, you finally crawled into bed, still fully convinced you were making the whole thing up in your head.

Maybe Eddie was just naturally nice. Maybe he complimented everybody. Maybe asking for your number hadn't actually meant anything at all.

You'd just reached over to switch off your bedside lamp when the phone rang. The sound startled you enough that you nearly knocked the thing onto the floor trying to answer it.

"Hello?"

A familiar laugh came through the receiver. "Hey."

Your stomach immediately betrayed you. "...Hi."

"I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No."

"Good."

Then Eddie cleared his throat. "I just wanted to make sure you got home okay."

You smiled before you could stop yourself. "I did."

"Good."

He could have ended the conversation right there. Instead, he asked what you were doing tomorrow. You asked what he and the guys had planned for Hellfire next week.

He somehow ended up telling you a fifteen-minute story about Gareth locking his keys in the van, which spiraled into another story about Wayne accidentally setting off the smoke detector while trying to make grilled cheese, which somehow became a debate over whether pineapple belonged on pizza. You found out your birthdays were only days apart. 

You couldn't remember the last time a conversation had felt so easy. There were no awkward silences to force your way through. No pressure to say the perfect thing. No moments where you felt like you had to perform some better version of yourself. You could just exist.

And somehow, Eddie seemed to like that version best. At one point you laughed so hard you had to pull the phone away from your ear, and through your own laughter you could hear him laughing too.

When the conversation finally lulled again, you glanced over at the digital clock on your nightstand.

1:43 a.m.

"Oh my God."

"What?"

"We've been talking for..." You looked again. "Almost four hours."

There was a brief silence, then Eddie chuckled quietly. "Huh."

"Huh?"

"I didn't even notice." Neither had you.

"I should probably let you sleep."

"...Probably."

"But I don't really want to."

You tucked your knees up against your chest beneath the blankets. "I don't really want you to, either."

The line went quiet again. You could hear him breathing. Then, softly enough that you almost thought you'd imagined it, "I'm really glad you came tonight."

You closed your eyes. "I'm really glad you asked."

When you finally hung up twenty minutes later, you set the receiver back into its cradle with more care than necessary and just sat there for a moment in the dark. Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

As you rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin, one thought drifted lazily through your mind before sleep claimed you. Maybe your mother had been wrong, maybe there really was someone worth believing in after all.

After that, it was almost impossible to remember a time when Eddie wasn't somehow part of your day. Sometimes he'd call before school just because he'd been up since six and was "bored out of his fucking mind."

Sometimes the phone would ring at eleven-thirty at night, and before you could even say hello, he'd say, "Hypothetically speaking, if a raccoon learned how to drive, do you think it'd obey traffic laws?" and the conversation would somehow last until nearly three in the morning.

He'd call just to tell you he heard a song that reminded him of you. He'd call because Wayne had made chili and insisted on putting cinnamon in it. He'd call because he wanted to know what you thought happened after people died. He'd call because he missed your voice.

He never actually said that last one. But sometimes he'd let the silence linger for so long that you knew.

The dates weren't really dates. At least, neither of you called them that. He'd show up outside your house with no plan whatsoever, and somehow the two of you would end up spending five hours together anyway.

He'd take you to the record store and spend twice as long watching you flip through albums as he did looking for anything himself.

You'd sit on the hood of his van in abandoned parking lots, sharing gas station snacks while he pointed out made-up constellations with complete confidence until you laughed so hard he couldn't keep the lie going anymore.

Once he drove for 30 minutes because you mentioned wanting to try a milkshake from some tiny roadside diner you'd seen in passing weeks earlier.

Another afternoon, you wandered around a thrift store with exactly four dollars between you, leaving with a hideous ceramic frog and an ugly orange sweater because Eddie insisted they had "character."

He made you try the sweater on. Then proceeded to spend the next ten minutes telling you that orange might actually be his favorite color now. You rolled your eyes so hard they almost got stuck while he just grinned.

Sometimes he'd come over just to sit on your porch steps. No music. No television. No plans.

The two of you would just sit there talking until the sun disappeared and the mosquitoes forced you inside. Every now and then, the conversation would run dry, and you'd apologize.

Eddie always looked confused. "For what?"

"I don't know... not saying anything."

He'd just shrug. "I like hanging out with you."

"...Even when we're not doing anything?"

He'd look at you like you'd asked the dumbest question in the world. "Especially then."

And slowly, so slowly you almost didn't notice it happening, Eddie became your first thought in the morning and your last thought before bed.

You'd catch yourself reaching for the phone to tell him something insignificant before realizing you hadn't even finished thinking it yourself.

You started noticing songs because he'd like them. Funny stories because you couldn't wait to hear him laugh. You started looking for him in every hallway without meaning to. The terrifying part wasn't that you were falling in love with Eddie Munson; the terrifying part was that it felt so natural.

When Eddie asked if you wanted to get dinner Friday night, you didn't even try to hide your smile. "Like... dinner dinner?"

He laughed through the phone. "Last I checked, yeah."

"What if I wanted breakfast?"

"Then you're about nine hours too late." You could practically hear him grinning, "I'll pick you up at seven?"

You tucked the phone closer against your ear. "Seven sounds perfect."

You spent half the next day thinking about it. The other half was spent trying very hard not to think about it.

By lunchtime, Robin had already asked you why you looked so distracted, and Dustin had spent an embarrassingly long amount of time making kissy faces every time your name and Eddie's ended up in the same sentence.

By five-thirty, you'd already changed twice. At six-fifteen, the phone rang.

You answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"...Hey." His voice sounded different. Not bad, but just quieter. "So... listen."

You sat down on the edge of your bed without realizing it.

"I was thinking."

"Dangerous."

Usually he'd laugh; this time he just let out a small breath. "Can you come over instead?"

You frowned. "What about dinner?"

"I know." Another pause. "I just... I think we should talk first."

Your stomach sank so suddenly that you almost felt it physically. "...Okay."

"I don't want you freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out." You were absolutely freaking out.

"I just wanna talk."

"Okay."

"I'll see you in a bit?"

"...Yeah."

When you pulled into the trailer park twenty minutes later, Eddie was already sitting outside on the steps. He stood when he saw you, smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

For a long minute, neither of you spoke. He rubbed his hands together, then looked down at them.

"So..."

You tried to smile. "So."

He exhaled through his nose. "I've been thinking a lot lately."

Your heart was beating so loudly you wondered if he could hear it.

"And I..." He stopped himself, trying again. "You're leaving next year."

It took you a second to understand what he meant. "For college."

"Yeah."

"I'm only going an hour away."

"I know."

"I can come back whenever."

"I know."

He stared out toward the road. "I just don't think I'm looking for anything serious right now."

You felt something inside your chest quietly crack.

You nodded before he could see your face. "Okay."

"I really like spending time with you."

"I know."

"And I don't want to lose this."

"I don't either."

He looked over then, studying you carefully. "I just don't think it's fair to start something when you're leaving."

"I'm going an hour away, Eddie."

"I know."

"You act like I'm moving across the country."

"I know."

The repetition almost hurt more than anything else. He knew, and it didn't change anything.

He swallowed. "So..." His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "Would you be okay with just... this?"

You looked at him. "This?"

"What we've been doing."

"What are we doing?"

His expression faltered. "You know what I mean."

Long phone calls. Random drives. Accidental hand brushes. Stolen looks. Every conversation that felt suspiciously like a date despite nobody ever calling it one. Everything except the part where he'd actually choose you.

You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell him that it wasn't enough. That somewhere along the way you'd fallen hopelessly, stupidly in love with him, and pretending otherwise was becoming impossible.

Instead...You smiled. The same smile that had gotten your heart broken your entire life.

"I think I'd like that."

The relief that washed over his face was immediate. He looked like he'd been carrying something impossibly heavy and had finally been allowed to set it down. "Really?"

You nodded. "Really."

He stared at you for another second before quietly scooting closer. "So we're okay?"

You looked at him and lied without hesitation. "We're okay."

His hand found yours so naturally it almost made you forget what had just happened. His thumb brushed across your knuckles once, twice. Then he leaned forward so slowly that he gave you every opportunity in the world to pull away, but you didn't.

His lips met yours softly, cautiously, like he'd been wanting to do it for weeks but wasn't entirely sure he was allowed. It wasn't rushed, and it wasn't desperate, but it was gentle enough to make your chest ache.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and laughed quietly. "I've wanted to do that for a while."

You smiled because he couldn't see your eyes. "I know."

He kissed you again. And because you loved him...you let yourself believe that maybe this was enough.

Maybe labels didn't matter. Maybe loving someone without asking them to love you the same way wasn't the worst thing in the world.

You'd spent your whole life convincing yourself to accept less than you wanted; it came as naturally as breathing.

The saddest part was that Eddie never asked you to settle. He simply offered you what he could, and you loved him enough to convince yourself it was everything.

A couple of days later, you found yourself curled up on the couch in Eddie's trailer with your legs tucked underneath you and absolutely no memory of how you'd ended up there.

One minute you'd been talking to Wayne in the kitchen while he made coffee. The next, Eddie had wandered in, stolen your spot without asking, and somehow convinced you to sit beside him instead.

Wayne took one look at the two of you, hid a smile behind his mug, and muttered something about needing to run to the store.

You were halfway through telling him about something Robin had said at lunch when you felt his fingers absentmindedly reach for a strand of your hair.

You stopped talking. "What?"

He didn't even look embarrassed. "Hm?"

"You're playing with my hair."

"Oh."

He glanced down like he'd only just noticed. "Sorry."

He made absolutely no effort to stop. Instead, he carefully tucked the strand behind your ear before lazily winding another piece around his finger.

You couldn't help smiling. "You know that's weird, right?"

"I've been informed."

"And yet..."

"And yet."

A few minutes later, after the conversation had drifted somewhere else entirely, you shifted to get comfortable.

Without saying a word, Eddie's hand found the center of your back. His thumb traced tiny circles through the fabric of your shirt, and you melted before you could stop yourself.

A smug grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You like that."

You looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar."

His hand moved again, gently rubbing across your shoulders. You sighed.

"There it is."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"No..." You smiled despite yourself, "I really don't."

He laughed quietly and kept tracing slow circles across your back while the conversation faded into nothing.

At some point, he started absentmindedly braiding tiny sections of your hair despite having absolutely no idea what he was doing.

You reached up to feel it. "Eddie."

"What?"

"This isn't a braid."

"It is spiritually."

"It is spiritually a knot."

"I prefer the term artistic interpretation."

You laughed so hard you nearly knocked into him. He just looked at you, and kept looking. Long enough that your smile slowly faltered into something softer.

"What?"

He didn't answer.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"No."

"What?"

Still nothing, just that impossibly gentle expression.

Then, almost quietly, "I think you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

Your face immediately warmed. "Eddie."

"I'm serious."

"You say that to everybody."

"I absolutely do not."

"You definitely do."

He shook his head. "I don't."

"You have to stop saying things like that."

"Why?"

"Because..."

You couldn't even finish the sentence because he leaned a little closer. "Because what?"

"It makes me nervous."

His smile somehow softened even more. "I know."

"Then stop."

"I'm not gonna lie to you." You looked down at your hands. "I don't think I'm anything special."

He was quiet for a second, then he reached over and gently tilted your chin back toward him.

"I do." With complete certainty,  "I think you're beautiful."

You could barely hold his gaze.

"I think you're funny." His thumb brushed softly across your cheek. "I think you're smarter than you realize."

Another pause. "I think you're kinder than anybody deserves."

Your chest hurt. Not because of what he was saying, because you believed he meant it.

He looked at you for another long second before smiling to himself.

"I also think your left eyebrow does this weird little thing when you're embarrassed."

"My what?"

He pointed. "There."

"It does not."

"It absolutely does."

You covered your face with both hands, and he laughed.

"Oh my God, there it is again."

From behind your fingers, all you could manage was a muffled, mortified, "Shut up."

Instead of teasing you more, he gently took your wrists and pulled your hands away from your face. "Hi, pretty girl."

Then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Not your lips, just your forehead.

The trailer was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the old couch springs as Eddie shifted beneath you.

His fingers had long since stopped pretending to braid your hair; they just stroked through it now, slow and absent, like he couldn’t help touching you. 

The forehead kiss from earlier still lingered on your skin like a brand.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice rough around the edges. His lips brushed your temple. “You okay?”

You nodded against his skin, not trusting your voice. Instead, you tilted your head and kissed the underside of his jaw. He exhaled sharply, fingers tightening in your hair.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, checking in like he always did. Like he could read every unspoken thing you tried to hide.

“Yeah,” you whispered, and kissed him properly this time; slow, a little desperate. He met you gently at first, then deeper, tongue sliding against yours with that careful patience that made your whole body warm. 

His free hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, palm warm against your lower back, holding you there like he was afraid you might vanish.

You shifted until you were straddling his lap, knees sinking into the worn cushions on either side of his hips. Eddie groaned quietly into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he breathed, breaking the kiss just enough to look at you. His eyes were dark, but still so soft. “C’mere, sweetheart. Let me see you.”

He tugged your shirt up slowly, giving you every chance to stop him, but you didn’t. The fabric whispered over your head and landed somewhere on the floor. His gaze dragged over you, reverent and almost stunned.

“Goddamn,” he said under his breath, hands sliding up your ribs to cup your breasts through your bra. “Look at you. So fucking pretty for me.” 

His thumbs brushed over your nipples until they peaked, and you arched into the touch with a shaky breath. “That’s it… just like that. Let me hear you.”

He sat up a little, mouth finding your collarbone, then lower, kissing and nipping softly while his fingers worked the clasp of your bra. 

When it fell away, he pulled back to watch your face as he took one nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling, gentle suction that made your hips roll against him instinctively.

“Eddie—” His name came out broken.

“Right here, baby. I’ve got you.” He switched sides, lavishing the same attention on the other while one hand stroked down your spine, soothing the tremble in your muscles. “You’re shaking. You want this?”

You nodded fast, grinding down against the growing hardness in his jeans. “Please.”

He hummed against your skin. “Good girl. Arms around my neck—yeah, just like that.” He stood suddenly, hands under your thighs to hold you up, and carried you the short distance to his bedroom. 

The door clicked shut behind you. The fairy lights he’d strung up weeks ago (because you’d mentioned liking them once) cast everything in a soft, golden glow.

He laid you on the bed carefully, like you were something breakable, then stripped off his own shirt and jeans, never taking his eyes off you. When he crawled over you, the weight of him felt like safety and ruin all at once. His hand slid between your legs, cupping you through your panties.

“Already so wet,” he murmured, voice low and awed. He rubbed slow circles over the fabric until you were rocking against his palm. “All this for me? Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

He hooked his fingers in the waistband and tugged them down your legs, kissing every inch of skin he uncovered: your stomach, your hips, the inside of your thigh. When he settled between your legs, he looked up at you, chin resting lightly on your mound.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. Want you to watch.” His breath ghosted over you, making you clench around nothing. Then his tongue was there—hot, slow, licking a broad stripe up your center before circling your clit with devastating patience. He talked the whole time, voice muffled but steady. 

“Taste so fucking good… That’s it, baby, just relax for me. Let me take care of you. You feel that? Right there?” He sucked gently, two fingers sliding into you with almost no resistance, curling just right.

You moaned, hand flying to his hair. He groaned in response, the vibration pulling you higher. He kept talking you through it, praise and instructions and soft curses, until your thighs were shaking and you came hard around his fingers, back arching off the bed.

He worked you through it, gentling his touch but not stopping until you were whimpering. Only then did he crawl back up, kissing your stomach, your ribs, the swell of your breast, your throat, your mouth. You tasted yourself on his tongue, and it made something inside you ache even sweeter.

“Eddie… please,” you whispered against his lips, hands tugging at his boxers.

He helped you push them down, kicking them away. He wrapped a hand around himself, stroking slowly while he looked at you. “You sure? We can stop—”

“I want you.” You reached for him, pulling him closer. “Please.”

He nodded, forehead dropping to yours. “Okay. Okay, baby. Breathe for me.” He lined himself up and pushed in; slow, so slow, inch by inch, whispering the whole time. “Fuck, you’re tight… so warm. Taking me so well. That’s my girl. Just a little more—there you go. You feel that? Feel how deep I am?”

You gasped at the stretch, nails digging into his shoulders. He stilled when he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, letting you adjust while he kissed your face; your eyelids, your cheeks, the corner of your mouth. 

“Breathe, sweetheart. I’ve got you. Not gonna move until you’re ready.”

You rocked your hips experimentally, and he cursed, burying his face in your neck. “Jesus Christ. You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.” 

Then he started moving, deep, rolling thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you. One hand slid under your ass, tilting your hips to take him even deeper. The other braced beside your head, thumb stroking your cheek.

“Look at me,” he breathed. You did. His eyes were glassy, hair wild, face flushed with effort and something deeper. 

“Best fucking thing I’ve ever felt. Best sex I’ve ever had, baby. No one else—no one—makes me feel like this. Just you.”

The words hit like a spark to dry tinder. You moaned his name, legs wrapping tighter around his waist as the pleasure built again, sharper this time, edged with the ache of everything unsaid. 

He kept talking you through it, right there, just like that, come on, let go for me, until you shattered around him a second time, clenching so hard he groaned like it hurt.

He followed right after, hips stuttering, spilling deep inside you with a broken sound of your name. He collapsed over you, careful not to crush you, face tucked into your neck as you both caught your breath.

For a long minute, the only sounds were your heartbeats and the soft rustle of sheets. He pressed lazy kisses to your shoulder, your jaw, your lips, sweet and lingering. His hand stroked up and down your side like he couldn’t stop touching you.

“You okay?” he whispered eventually, brushing damp hair from your forehead.

You nodded, even as the familiar crack in your chest widened. It was painfully sweet, and almost perfect. And still not enough.

But you smiled anyway, because that’s what you did. “Yeah, Eddie. I’m okay.”

A week later, you had become embarrassingly good at pretending not to notice the things Eddie said. Not because they didn't mean anything, but because they meant entirely too much.

You'd be halfway through some rambling explanation about a fantasy novel you'd just finished, going on about world-building and obscure folklore and symbolism, and he'd just stare at you with the most hopelessly fond expression.

Then he'd grin. "God, you check every box."

You'd laugh it off. "What boxes?"

He'd shrug. "The boxes."

"Very descriptive."

"You know what I mean." You, in fact, did not, and he never elaborated after that. 

Another day, you were flipping through records in a shop when you found some obscure metal band neither of you thought anyone else in Hawkins had ever heard of.

You held it up triumphantly, and his face lit up.

"No fucking way."

"What?"

He looked at you like you'd just personally hung the moon. "You know them?"

"I literally told you about them."

"I know."

"So why are you acting surprised?"

"'Cause normal people don't actually listen when I talk."

You frowned. "I listen."

"I know." There was that goddamn smile again. "Trust me. I know."

It happened constantly. You'd steal one of his rings just because, and he'd spend the next ten minutes trying to figure out which finger fit yours best.

He'd absentmindedly tuck your hair behind your ear while talking to somebody else. If you got cold, he'd hand you his jacket before you even had the chance to say anything.

If someone interrupted you, he'd immediately turn back and go, "Wait, she was talking."

Little things, tiny things. The kind of things that didn't mean anything on paper, except they did.

One afternoon, the two of you were sprawled across the couch in his trailer, sharing a bag of pretzels while a movie neither of you was paying attention to played quietly in the background. You started explaining some random mythology fact you'd learned in class.

Halfway through your sentence, Eddie just looked over at you and laughed.

"What?"

He shook his head. "I can't believe you're real."

You smiled. "What does that even mean?"

"It means you're pretty."

"Eddie..."

"It means you're funny."

He nudged your knee with his. "It means you're a giant nerd."

"I'm aware."

"It means somehow every time I think I've figured you out, you say something that makes me like you even more."

You looked down at your lap before he could see your face.

He reached over and laced his fingers through yours without a second thought. "So..."

"So?"

This is it, you thought.

"If I had made a list when I was twelve of everything I'd think was cool in a girl..."

He squeezed your hand. "...you would've checked every damn box."

Your heart practically stopped; you didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything at all.

You just sat there, letting him hold your hand while your mind raced a hundred miles an hour. Because people who didn't want anything serious didn't say things like that.

People who didn't want anything serious didn't look at you the way Eddie looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention.

They didn't call just because they couldn't sleep. They didn't remember every insignificant detail you'd ever mentioned. They didn't introduce you to Wayne with this quiet sort of pride in their voice. They didn't reach for your hand automatically. They didn't smile every time you walked into a room.

So maybe...maybe he was just scared. Maybe he'd been hurt before, and maybe he just needed time.

Maybe one day he'd wake up and realize that what the two of you already had was everything people spent years trying to find.

And maybe then he'd ask. Maybe then he'd call you his girlfriend. Maybe then he'd look at you and say he'd changed his mind. 

The hope settled so naturally into your chest that you barely noticed it happening. You watered it with every lingering glance. Every compliment. Every soft touch. Every almost-confession.

You built an entire future in your head out of maybes.

So that’s why, when the shift came, you’d convinced yourself you were being dramatic.

At first, it was so subtle you could explain it away. He took an hour to call instead of ten minutes. He canceled one night because Gareth needed help with something. He seemed distracted once or twice, his mind somewhere else while you were talking.

Normal things, completely normal things. People got busy. People had bad days; you of all people knew that.

So when a conversation ended a little earlier than usual, you told yourself he was tired. When he forgot to call one night, you figured he'd fallen asleep. When he promised he'd ring you after Hellfire and didn't, you reminded yourself that he wasn't obligated to account for every second of his day.

You refused to let yourself become the kind of person who overanalyzed everything. Still...

You started noticing little things. He stopped absentmindedly reaching for your hand quite as often. The compliments didn't disappear, but they became less frequent, almost like he was catching himself halfway through saying them.

The pauses on the phone became quieter and longer. Sometimes they'd end not because either of you wanted to hang up, but because it felt like neither of you quite knew what to say anymore.

And every single time, you blamed yourself. Maybe you'd been talking too much. Maybe you were becoming annoying. Maybe you'd imagined half the chemistry in the first place. Maybe he'd realized you weren't nearly as interesting as he'd initially thought.

You never blamed him, not once. You blamed yourself so instinctively it didn't even occur to you there might be another explanation.

Every now and then, though, he'd do something that unraveled all your worries in an instant.

He'd look at you with that same impossibly soft expression. He'd brush your hair away from your face without thinking. He'd tell you you looked pretty. He'd laugh at one of your stupid jokes so hard he'd have to wipe tears from his eyes.

And you'd think: See? You're overreacting. He's still here. He's still calling. He's still kissing you. He's still choosing to spend his time with you.

Everything's fine, everything has to be fine.

Looking back, you'd eventually realize that the saddest part wasn't the shift itself. It was how desperately you wanted it not to be real.

Sometimes, usually on the nights when you couldn't sleep, you'd let yourself imagine another version of the story, one where Eddie really had loved you.

One where every compliment was genuine, every late-night phone call meant exactly what you'd hoped it meant, every lingering touch and forehead kiss and the whispered, you check every box had been as real to him as they were to you.

Maybe he got scared, or maybe one day it all stopped feeling hypothetical and started feeling dangerously real.

Maybe he'd looked at you and realized that if he let himself fall any further, there was no pretending it was casual anymore.

Maybe he'd remembered you were leaving in less than a year and decided it would hurt less to loosen his grip now than have you ripped away later. Maybe he'd convinced himself he was protecting both of you.

You thought about that possibility more often than you'd ever admit because it was kinder than the alternative.

Kinder than believing he simply woke up one morning and decided you weren't worth choosing.

But the truth was you didn't know, and you probably never would. Because one missed phone call became two. Two became a week. A week somehow became a month.

And somewhere in all that silence, neither of you reached across it. There was no screaming match. No cruel words. No dramatic goodbye. No slammed doors. 

Just the slow, almost imperceptible fading of someone who had once occupied every corner of your life. The kind that leaves you wondering if you imagined the whole thing.

Every now and then, Dustin would mention him in passing. Robin would ask if you'd seen him lately. Steve would look between the two of you from across a room with the unmistakable expression of someone who knew there was a story there but had enough sense not to ask.

You'd just smile, "Nah. Haven't talked in a while." 

Like it didn't still hurt to say.

Maybe Eddie Munson was just another person who left. Or maybe he was the first person who wanted to stay and got too afraid to try.

In another life, maybe one conversation would've changed everything.

Maybe if he'd been a little braver. Maybe if you'd been a little less willing to accept almosts instead of certainties. Maybe if one of you had simply looked the other in the eye and said what you were actually feeling.

But there was no other life; there was only this one. And in this one, the last thing Eddie Munson ever gave you wasn't a kiss.

It wasn't a promise; it wasn't even an explanation. It was a question you'd probably spend the rest of your life trying to answer:

Was it ever casual?

thank a very evil man for the inspiration for this fic.

taglist:

@lnnn1n @youngbrokefab @ludachrissy @sisteramycatherine @izzycstairs @britttzy267 @eddiemunsonsimpp @powerpuffedbjtch @sariahs-stuff @cciessuzi @lilyquinnmunson @julxsxx @kozume-ko @obsessed-eddie @doomdabss @leelei1980 @hexqueensupreme @ches-86 @plaidamoosette @bobiverses @meadows-of-asphodel @whitakerstorm @brrrainst3w @serendipdipity01 @hypersexytoptobottom @m-art000 @walleloveseve @camsmunson101 @flavorfullsteve @peachpuffs25 @micheledawn1975 @whitakerstorm @cciessuzi @blackqueenie-18 @ggdawgg @velvetdimond @enne02  @ludachrissy @izzycstairs

@abbysleftbicepp @britttzy267 @ssculker @eddiemunsonsimpp @powerpuffedbjtch

@lilyquinnmunson @this-issam @acrloved @foxygrll @gem-writes

[comfortwriting]

just friends part 5

series masterlist, navigation, request rules

summary: when Steve vanishes and Eddie gets caught up in a secret, you find a way to force the three of you to put your cards on the table.

pairing: steve harrington x you (platonic), eddie munson x you (established relationship)

warnings: mention of drugs, other than that none? didn't proof read, lots of angst and dialogue.

word count: 3.7k

Things seemed to get a little better between you and Eddie, the dust sort of settling until the occasional argument broke out but you both always moved past it and focused on the baby. To your surprise, it was Steve who went radio silent. 

Every phone call went unanswered, and when you stopped by Family Video, he wasn't there. Robin always offered the same frown and apology, whipping up some excuse as to why he wasn't working. You were hurting from his sudden absence; you desperately needed your best friend.

You knew Eddie didn't want you talking to Steve, and part of you felt so guilty for needing him, but you were used to Steve always being there, and now he wasn't. It felt like a death.

"I don't understand why he won't talk to me anymore," you frowned, your tired eyes incredibly heavy, "it's like he's vanished."

You watched as Eddie stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, double-checking the time on his watch, trying to avoid any conversation about Steve. 

Eddie was the reason Steve went away, and he had no guilt; you were his, and that baby was his, DNA or not.

"Eds?" you asked calmly, staring at his face. 

He looked up at you, his eyes lighting up, "Sorry, doll. I'm just waiting for something to arrive. Stop getting yourself so upset about him. He isn't cut out to be a dad. You know he's all talk." 

You furrowed your eyebrows, "I don't know, it's not like him to act like this. Did he... did he say anything to you?"

Eddie shook his head, "Nah, I've not heard from him. Maybe he just wants us to do this on our own. We're the parents expecting a child, right? Not him."

Before you could argue back, a loud knock sounded at the door. Eddie jumped up from the couch and hurried towards the door with his hand hovering over the doorknob. 

"You're going to love this!" Eddie beamed, opening your front door.

Outside, a deliveryman stood beside a large box, with a clipboard in his hand, "I've got an order for..." The deliveryman checks the name, "Mr Edward Munson?"

 You walked behind Eddie, peering at the box, "What's this?" you asked.

"Just you wait," Eddie whispers, a huge smile spreading across his face. He then turns to the deliveryman, "That's me," he smiles, "how much again?"

"Fifteen hundred dollars."

Your eyes widened, but you focused on Eddie, casually pulling out the cash without breaking a sweat, counting it once before handing it over.

 "Thanks, man."

Eddie carried the box into the middle of the living room as you slowly closed the door, he got onto his knees and removed the plain cardboard packaging, revealing another box decorated with illustrations of cribs and happy, smiley babies. 

"Surprise!" Eddie smiled up at you, "Here's another thing ticked off the list." 

He stood up and walked behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder before placing his large, ring-covered hands over your stomach. "Happy twelve weeks, princess. I'm gonna build it before work, thinking in the corner of your room or next to your side of the bed?"

"How did you afford this? You said the gig at the Hideout won't pay until next month." You said quietly, your eyes still scanning the box.

Eddie’s grip tightened as he shushed you, "Don't worry about it. I did some extra jobs... sold all the coke, I'll be done with dealing by the time the baby comes, thought I'd get on with it."

He placed a tender kiss against your cheek before he went back over to the box, pulling off the tape and opening it. You wanted to believe him, you knew things would be easier if you did, but something in you couldn't be convinced. 

Eddie stopped dealing the moment he decided he could make it work with you, he knew how you felt about the risk of him being caught with drugs and getting locked up again. So you knew straight away he was lying about the coke; there was no way he'd risk missing out on the baby's birth and upbringing.

"So, corner of the room or next to your bed?" he asked again, reading the instruction manual.

"Uh.. next to my side of the bed."

The round wooden crib sat next to your bed, beautifully built, surrounded by the baby clothes Eddie bought weeks prior. You tried your best to distract yourself whilst Eddie went to work: reading a baby name book, flicking through a pregnancy magazine, then trying to nap, and finally going through all of the clothes again, but you couldn't settle. You couldn't rest. 

You needed your best friend. You needed Steve.

Standing by the phone in the kitchen, you picked up the phone and dialled Steve's number, your heart throbbing. 

"Harrington Residence, who is it?" Steve's mother answered. 

"Hi, please can you put Steve on the phone? It's... I'm a close friend of his."

Steve's mother called him over to the phone, and his tone became suspicious when she couldn't tell him who it was. He took the phone from her and waited until she had walked away before pressing it up to his ear.

"Hello?" His voice came through the other line; he sounded tired and down, but you were relieved to hear him, regardless of his tone.

He recognised your breathing and instantly his heart ached.

"Steve? It’s me," you said quickly, "I know you've been avoiding me and the not knowing why is killing me. Eddie said he hasn't heard from you either, and I, I need to know what's happened... I'm so worried, this isn't like you at all."

Steve didn't answer. He wanted to, desperately, but he couldn't. Not with the arrangement he forced himself to agree to with Eddie.

Your chest felt heavy, and your throat swelled, forming a lump, hot tears pricking at your eyes. You sighed and swallowed hard, wiping your wet eyes. 

"Steve, please talk to me." You cried, "I don't understand what I've done wrong. Was it because I threw up the pills? A-are you angry with me for something else? P-Please talk to me, Steve. You promised me you would be here."

"I can't," Steve snapped down the phone, tears prickling at his eyes, too. "I can't talk to you. Please don't call here again."

"Steve, wait—"

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Steve hung up the phone, and a suffocating wave of nausea washed over him. He ran up the stairs and into the bathroom, the guilt eating him alive. 

Your eyes were wide, and all you could hear was the dial tone buzzing. Steve had completely shut you out, and Eddie was buying your happiness with secrets. Here you were twelve weeks pregnant, and the two men you trusted most were spinning a web of lies right beneath your feet. Hanging up the phone, you dragged yourself back upstairs and climbed into bed. You cried yourself to sleep until you were woken up by Eddie tumbling into your bedroom after work. 

"Sorry I'm late, sweetheart," he murmured lowly as he climbed into bed,  I didn't mean to wake you."

Eddie's calloused fingers gently stroked your cheek, he could feel the dampness of your skin and see the puffiness around your eyes through the low glow of the bedside lamp. 

"Hey... what’s wrong? Are you hurting? Is it the baby? Why didn't you call-"

You sat up slowly, pulling away from his touch, "I called Steve today, Eddie," you whispered.

Eddie's eyes didn't blink, he stared at you and clenched his jaw., "You did what?" he asked.

"I know it was wrong but I called him," you repeated "he sounded so broken, Eddie. He refused to talk to me, and I don't know why. It's killing me."

Eddie glared and got out of bed, frantically pacing around your room, "Are you fucking kidding me? Jesus Christ!" He raised his voice.

"Eddie, my parents are sleeping, please be quiet!" You hissed at him, your eyes filling with tears again.

"I told you I was handling it!" Eddie lowered his voice, "I told you I was taking care of you! Why the hell are you calling Harrington behind my back?!"

You felt the guilt eating you up again, crawling up your throat and ready to spill out, "Because I need him!" you confessed, getting out of bed, "He's my best friend, he promised me he'd be here for me."

"You have me, yet you want him?!" Eddie stormed over to you, his eyes dark and possessive, "Harrington has everything. He was born into wealth; he's got a nice house and car. What do I have, huh?" He glanced at the crib, "I have a band that's going nowhere, a job that doesn't pay enough, and a girlfriend carrying another guy's baby!"

"How many times do I have to repeat myself? I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Eds!" You covered your bump with your hand.

"Then quit begging for him! Do you know what it feels like? Knowing that the guy who got you pregnant can buy you a better life at the snap of his fingers? I let him pay for the crib because I wanted you to have the best. But I’ll be damned if I let him walk in here and take my place. Playing daddy to the child I'm prepared to raise!"

Your eyes widened as you connected the dots. 

Steve paid for the crib. 

Eddie suddenly had more money when Steve went away.

Eddie was taking Steve's money, Eddie forced him away.

"Oh my god..." you cried, "you've been taking his money, haven't you? You're the reason he won't talk to me!"

Eddie stared at you, his chest rising and falling heavily, "I told him to stay away, to protect us, to protect our family. The fact that you're crying over him hanging up on you tells me I was completely right to do it."

"I chose you, Eddie! I chose you!"

"Yet you can't keep away from him! You're not satisfied with just me, are you?!" 

"You’ve been taking money from him, Eds, you can't do that!"

"It's child support!" Eddie’s voice snapped, running a hand through his wild curls, "He’s paying his dues without being involved!"

"You don't get to make that decision!" 

"The hell I don't!" Eddie stepped in close, his hands hovered near your bump, desperate to touch you but too afraid to upset you further, "I am the one sleeping in this bed with you every night. I'm raising this kid with you. Not him."

"Steve is the father, Eddie," you whispered, the betrayal stinging your eyes with more hot tears. "He has a right to be here, even if you don't like it."

"He's a threat!" Eddie finally reached out, pulling you into him, "You think I don't see the way he's looked at you? You fucked him, and now you're connected to him for life..." Eddie croaked, "I lost you once, and I don't want to lose you and the baby if he comes back."  

"Steve isn't like that," you sighed, "he isn't trying to take me away... he wants to help, and all you've done is force him to abandon me and become your cash cow so you can feel like a big man."

"I did it for us," he muttered, "I can't lose you to him."

"I know what I did to you... Hiding something as big as that hurts, and kills you every day, but lying to me and forcing Steve away isn't going to make things any better. You can't hide things from me, not like that." You pulled out of Eddie's arms, your eyes falling on the crib, "I think you should go home tonight, Eds. I need some room to breathe." 

Without another word, you turned your back on him and climbed back into bed, squeezing your eyes shut.

-------------------

You woke up later than expected, and the sound of another knock at the door forced you out of your slumber. Rubbing your eyes, you sat up and stared at the wooden crib, thinking about how long Eddie spent building it but also thinking about how Steve was the one who paid for it. 

Unable to stay in the room any longer, you forced yourself to get out of bed, still able to smell Eddie's shampoo on your pillows and sheets, and as you went down the stairs, you couldn't stop thinking about the argument; you broke your own promise to never sleep on it. 

I should've resolved it. I was the one who chose not to.

He means well, he just makes fucking stupid decisions when he's scared and threatened.

The dial tone from your call with Steve still echoed in your head. You wanted to go back into the kitchen and call again but you knew it would be no good. Steve was under Eddie's control, but you needed to intervene somehow, and fast.

 Walking over to the front door, you unlocked it to find the porch empty, but when you looked down, your heart dropped; sitting right on the top step was a small and soft plush duckling with a fluffy cream body, a yellow nose, and feet. Tied around its neck with a piece of green ribbon was a folded square of paper.

You crouched down and stroked the duckling's face before picking it up, untying the ribbon and unfolding the note, recognising Steve's handwriting, your breath hitched in your throat. 

I'm so sorry for not being here, for ignoring you. Hearing your voice yesterday made me panic. The guilt is eating me alive. Munson made me promise to keep my distance; he said the only way this would work was if I kept away. He mentioned the money, and he was right about it. I can't refuse to pay for a baby I helped make... and he said you guys needed a crib. I don't want to keep away but I have no choice. 

I bought this for you and the little baby. I love you both so much. 

— Steve  

You clutched the little yellow duckling tightly against your chest and squeezed your eyes shut, your tears seeping through the corners of your eyes and running down your cheeks. Nuzzling into the duckling, you couldn't help but feel relief knowing that Steve hadn't abandoned you, and that your suspicions were correct. 

All you could do now was figure out what you needed to do to get him back.

You didn't go inside Family Video; you didn't need to; Steve's car in the lot gave him away. Stubbornly, you waited until he finished his shift and locked up and approached him once he was about to climb into his car. 

"Steve." You cleared your throat, making him jump, "We can talk here, you don't have to hide, okay?"

Steve slowly turned to face you, his body stiffening as his eyes darted to your small bump and then to your face.

"Is everything okay?" He breathed, "Is the baby-"

"The baby is fine, Steve." You smiled at him, fighting the urge to pull him into a hug, "I got the duckling and your note, thank you."

Steve's face dropped, and his eyes began to go glassy, "I'm so sorry for what I've done, for disappearing. I wanted to be there, I swear to God, I wanted to be there for you both, but Eddie came over and..."

"He gave you no choice, did he?"

Steve swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, "He loves you and I'm a threat to him. I'd never ever do anything to ruin what you both have but... I want to be there for the baby too, I'm just as much as the father as him."

"I thought you hated me," you murmured, "that you didn't want to be part of this anymore... you should've told me, Steve"

Steve nodded, his eyes dull. "I know, but you should've seen how terrified he was; he's trying to build a life for you and the baby, and every time I show up, it'll just be another blow to him, and every time I'll have to look at you both with our child, it'll make me feel like I'm the mistake in all this."

"Steve," you whispered, your anger melting into overwhelming sadness, "You're aren't the mistake in all this, there is no mistake. I want this baby more than anything. I want you to be part of this with Eddie and me. I don't know how it's going to work, but it has to. For all of us." 

Steve reaches out and takes your hand. He squeezes it when you don't pull back.

"I want to be here for all of you," Steve croaks, crying, "more than anything."

You squeeze his hand back and offer a small smile, "Well, come to Eddie's tomorrow night? The three of us need to get this sorted, talk it out."

Steve hesitated for a moment, "Are you sure?" 

"Yes," your other hand rubbed his shoulder, "It'll be okay, Eds won't bite."

Eddie lit up another cigarette, his knee bouncing up and down whilst he tried to get comfortable on the couch but couldn't. 

"I don't like this at all." He huffed.

"It'll be awkward for all of us, Eds." You walked over to him, leaning over and kissing him on the forehead, " But we need to do this, okay?"

Steve knocked on the trailer door, and Eddie got up and walked over to open it. You stopped Eddie for a moment, your hand resting on his shoulder, "Please be nice to him, he's sensitive about this."

"I think we all are." Eddie sighed, opening the door. 

Eddie and Steve didn't speak, but Eddie stepped aside, allowing him to walk into his trailer. 

You were careful with how you approached Steve in front of Eddie, not wanting to hurt him or cause him to panic. "Thank you for coming, Steve." You smiled at him, "Do you want to sit down, or-"

"I'll stand," Steve replied, the air in the trailer becoming stuffy.

Eddie walked over to your left and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw already clenching, and to your right stood Steve, pacing near the front door with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Both of them refused to look at one another, their eyes only focusing on you. 

"Alright," you started, looking between the two men who meant the most to you in the world. "I don't want this to blow up, okay? No shouting, I don't want things to get heated but I'm done with secrets, no more of it. I'm tired of it, and I think we all need to be open about what we want and expect from one another because in a few months, this baby will be here. They deserve to grow in a peaceful environment, with both of you." 

Silence hung heavily for a moment. Finally, Eddie looked up at you.

"I'm terrified I'm just a placeholder," Eddie admitted, then looking directly at Steve, "I’m terrified that the second this kid is born, you’re gonna step up and take them with your big house, and all your money... I'm fucking freaking out in case there's a chance that she’s gonna realise she made a mistake picking me," Eddie takes a drag from his cigarette, "I want to be a father to this kid, Harrington. The baby might be yours, but I want to raise them, pack their lunches for school, and teach them how to play guitar. I don't want or need you hanging around our house twenty-four-seven, reminding me of what I can’t give them when you show up with a huge dollhouse, or bike."

Steve listened carefully and nodded, not shrugging off Eddie's concerns or wants.

"I don't want to replace you," Steve spoke up, "It's never been about that. I just want what's best for her and the baby, but do you want to know what I'm terrified of?" He took a breath, "I'm terrified that I'm going to be pushed out, that I'll be denied the chance to get to know this baby... I know you're stepping up as the father, and I'd never get in the way of that but... I deserve to be in that child's, my child's, life too, maybe not as a father but a close uncle at least."

Tears pricked at your eyes, watching and listening to both of them talk it all out, with more respect and understanding for each other than they'd ever had in their lives.

"I want to support your girl too, pay for the medical bills, and make up for anything you're struggling to pay."

"Steve, no-"

"He has a point," Eddie cut you off, "If he wants to help, we can't stop him."

"And I want to be able to hold the baby, I don't want to feel like I'm overstepping with my own child." Steve sniffled, "That's all I want."

Reaching out, you placed one hand over Eddie's tightly clenched fist, and the other over Steve’s trembling fingers. Running your thumbs over their knuckles, circling the pad of your thumbs into them. 

"Eddie" you sighed, looking into his eyes, "I chose you, and I love you more than anything. You need to believe that I'm not going anywhere. I want you to be my partner through this, to raise this baby with me, but you need to understand that Steve isn't a threat to any of that." 

Your eyes then trailed over to Steve, and you squeezed his hand, "Steve. No one is going to take away your opportunity to have a relationship with the baby. I want you to be here to watch them grow... to take part in that growth. But I need you, Steve, I need you as my best friend and not his rival when the two of you are arguing over what's best for me." 

You let go of their hands, "You both care so much, and you have a lot more in common than you realise." You looked between the two of them, "Can we do this? All of us?"

Eddie and Steve stared at one another in silence, your heart thumping. They both reached a mutual understanding, finally settling on the same page. 

They were both two guys who loved you, who were terrified of screwing up.

"We figure out a schedule. You get your time with the kid, Harrington. But she's my girl."

A small smile broke across Steve's face, and he wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. 

"She's your girl, but she's still my best friend."

"Understood." Eddie nodded, pursing his lips, "Do you want a beer or a smoke?" He asked Steve, "This whole thing has stressed the fuck out of me." 

End of Part 5

Comment to be tagged in Part 6

Reblogging is a writers best friend :)

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[cocomagazine]

Too young, but too old

warning: idk what this is...angst? with comfort, breaking free, reader dissapears

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: where you make the decision to leave hawkins without telling anyone.

note: english is not my first languaje so excuse any mistake! now enjoy your reading <3

────୨ৎ────

you were going to leave. you had already made the decision.

the hard part was leaving eddie.

he had been your support since you met when you saved the world of vecna.

but you didn't want to stay in hawkins. you didn't want to be just another small, unnoticed detail in the town's history.

so you weren't going to say goodbye to anyone. you were just going to disappear like dust in the wind.

you packed a small backpack with clothes and food and put some blankets in your car. you didn't know where you were going, but you didn't have to know, just feel it.

you spent the night at eddie's house, as a last memory of him before leaving.

eddie had noticed you were acting strange throughout dinner, but he didn't say anything; he knew that sometimes you wanted your space.

but while they were both lying in his bed, his head on his bare chest, skin to skin, he couldn't help but ask

"i can hear the gears in your head turning, what's wrong?"

you looked at the guitar hanging on his wall and exhaled.

"do you regret it?". you asked.

"you'll have to be more specific, love".

"i mean, you wanted to be a guitarist in a band... do you regret not following your dream?"

the silence lingered in the air, until his chest rose and you heard:

"sometimes i dwell on 'what if...' but i prefer to stay in the present and not in the future, that's how life passes us by".

his words were etched in your mind.

you repeated them as you got out of his bed in the morning, trying to make as little noise as possible to not wake him up.

you thought about them as you got into your car, and even more so when you saw the "come back soon" sign as you left hawkins.

no farewell letters, no phone calls, no visit to any of your friends.

eddie didn't take long to wake up after you left. maybe because of the cold emanating from your side of the bed, the feeling of your absence.

he looked for you, first in the bathroom, thinking you were there, then all over the trailer park, not caring that it was 7 a.m. and the cold was chilling him to the bone.

he called at your house but there was no answer.

the hours passed. the others joined the search: robin, steve, jonathan, nancy, and the children.

there was no trace of you.

they went to your home, everything tidy as always, your scent still present but not your essence. eddie noticed that some things were missing like your favorite blanket that your grandmother had knitted, food from the kitchen, and shower products.

and then he understood.

you had planned that.

it had been your decision.

he connected the dots and understood your behavior yesterday, the question you had asked him.

if only he had done things differently. paid more attention.

you were listening to the radio, the volume low like a faint sound amidst the noise of your mind. until you heard something that made you gasp. you turned up the volume on the radio.

"hey guys, this is rockin' robin"

the voice of a very good friend of yours brought a smile to your face.

"today we have a very special guest who would like to say a few words."

"hello everyone"

that voice froze you.

because you weren't ready to hear it yet.

"today is not a very good day for me, but my friend robin is doing me a favor by letting me participate in this."

you pressed your lips together when you realized you were the cause of the noticeable pain in his voice.

"i know you're listening to this because you spend all day with the radio on, so i don't see any other way to tell you what i think."

you were so afraid of the words that might come out of his mouth. you were afraid he would blame you.

"i do regret not being a guitarist. sometimes i imagine myself singing and playing those same songs we sang together, on a stage, with people shouting and clapping. but i know that if i had that life, i wouldn't have met you, and that's why i wouldn't change it for anything. but i need you not to come back. i need you to never regret anything, to try and not be afraid to try. because if you made the decision to leave, it was because you followed your heart, and there's nothing purer than that."

you didn't make a sound while he was talking. you didn't know what to do.

"don't blame yourself for your dreams"

he knew you so well that you wanted to cry.

"take care and follow the path that makes you feel best"

and so, without a formal goodbye, without hugs, but with feeling, he told you that he loved you without saying it.

they never heard from you again. you never called or gave any sign that you wanted to. when the group was together, they'd come up with theories about where you could be, laugh at dustin's ideas, and enjoy will's drawings of your adventures.

you disappeared one day and for months after. but all the goodbyes can become a see you later.

"this can't be happening, guys, look at this!" robin shouted in the livingroom.

as they had always met at steve's house, a tradition since the group was formed.

in robin's hands was a letter with many postcards on it and your strange way of writing your name on the front.

eddie hurried to robin's side and soon everyone surrounded her.

she opened the letter with trembling hands, read the letter inside, and everyone fell silent, listening through robin's voice to your life since you left.

you recounted the good days and the bad ones when you longed to return to them. but you explained that you couldn't go back to that city, and they understood.

one phrase that had stuck in everyone's mind was "i felt too young to make this decision, but too old to continue living something that didn't completed me."

the letter didn't have a specific address. you didn't want them to find you or send a reply.

they were relieved, some with tears in their eyes.

and eddie? he was happy as long as you were.

────୨ৎ────

i writed this while i listened to cico buff from cocteau twins again and again.

hoped you liked it

xoxo

iris ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

[gem-writes]

Close to You

A/N: Requested by an anonymous user. Hopefully I did you justice 🩷

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Giving your boyfriend Eddie the after-sex emotional intimacy that he craves.

Content Warning: 18+ Smut, Unprotected Sex (P in V), Cockwarming, Sexual Language, Swearing/Profanity.

Credits: @cafekitsune for the dividers

────────

“Holy shiiiit, you’re unreal! Fuck! Oh fuck!”

Your boyfriend pants in your ear as he nears his high, thrusting into you as deep as he could go.

“You feel so- god, oh my god! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Just like that! Hoooooly mother of god!”

“You okay?” You moan underneath him, out of breath and wrecked as you watched him fall apart above you.

“M’good! So good, baby….So fucking good. This feels so nice.” He whimpers “Being inside you like this…”

“Yeah?” You squeak as he hits a spot deep inside of you that had your toes curling.

“Fuck yes….so wet…and tight and perfect. God, baby, you’re perfect. So fucking perfect….all for me. Mine. My girl…”

“Yours.” You whisper, kissing his neck as he lets out a gasp.

“Hah! Fuck! Y-you…oh god! You’re…squeezing’ me…so good. So fucking good! Are you close, sweetheart? Tell me you’re close. Please tell me you’re close!” He pleads.

“M’almost there, Eds.” You moan, gripping tightly onto his biceps as he keeps fucking into you “Just keep going, baby. Don’t stop.”

“No, no, no. Not gonna stop…I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve fucking got you. Shit….just give it to me, yeah? Please? God, please, angel. I need you to cum. Need you to give it to me.”

“Eddie…” You whine.

“Fuck, baby! You’re squeezing me so good….you gonna cum? Yeah? You gonna cum for me? Please fucking cum for me, angel.”

He slams into you relentlessly, reaching down between the two of you to rub hurried circles on your clit.

“Eddie!”

“Fuck, baby, you’re so close. I can feel it. Come on, sweetheart, fucking cum for me. Need to feel you cum on my cock.”

It hit you faster than you expected, your orgasm peaking with a high pitched gasp that had Eddie tumbling right after you.

“Oh my god, sweetheart! Atta girl!” He groans “I’m so close, baby. Gonna fucking cum. Gonna- oh shit!”

Eddie grasps your hand, squeezing it as he released inside of you- filling you up as he panted and whimpering above you. His arms give out, sending him collapsing on top of you as he tries to catch his breath.

“Fuck…” He laughs, gasping for air “That was…god, you’re amazing.”

He presses featherlight kisses to your forehead, your temples, your cheeks.

“I love you.” He whispers “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You say, looking up at him as he looms over you- the ends of his curly tresses brushing against your face. You reach up, grabbing his necklace as you absentmindedly turn it over between your fingers.

Eddie just stares down at you. Admiring. Watching.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“You okay?” You ask, noticing that he hadn’t yet pulled out and rolled over onto the mattress beside you like he normally did.

“Yeah.” He says, clearing his throat “I just…can I just stay here like this? Just for a little longer?”

You watch as he looks down at your tangled up bodies, his eyes staring at where you met.

“What do you mean? Like-“

“Inside you.” He admits “Just like this. I just want to stay here with me inside you. Is that okay?”

“Sure.” You nod, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes “Okay.”

“I just….I love being inside of you. Even after we have sex. I love how warm you feel….and wet. I…okay, you’re going to think I’m a total weirdo creep when I say this.”

“Yeah? What else is new?” You joke, causing Eddie to playfully tap you on the arm.

“Stop it.” He says “I’m being serious here. I…I love being inside of you. It’s my favorite place. I know that sounds crazy but I feel safe. Right here like this…with you. You make me feel safe.”

The words that left his lips had made you feel tingly inside. Good. Loved.

“You feel safe with me?” You ask, looking into his brown doe eyes.

“Yeah, I do.” He sighs “But especially like this. I could stay like this forever. Knowing that this is the closest that I’ll ever be to you.”

“Okay, that’s actually really sweet.” You murmur.

“Can I ask you for something else? Without you judging me?” Eddie asks, his voice coming out small.

“Of course.” You say, threading your fingers through his hair.

“Can you…can you hold me, please? Would that be weird? If that’s too weird-“

“Come here.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down to you- allowing him to lay on top of you fully as he buries his face in your neck. He inhales your scent, smiling into your hair as he closes his eyes.

You smelled like home.

You felt like warmth.

You were safety.

“This good?” You ask.

Eddie nods his head against your neck, wrapping his arms around you so that you were pressed tightly against him.

“This is perfect.” He mutters.

Home.

Warmth.

Safety.

You.

“I can feel your heart beating.” He whispers as you run your fingers down his back soothingly, sending a shiver down his body.

Your touch. Your body. Your heartbeat.

You were so close. He wanted nothing more than this. To be completely wrapped up in you.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else but here.” He says, mumbling against your neck “With you.”

He pulls away for a second, taking you aback as he reaches for one of your hands- gently placing it over his heart.

“Do you feel how crazy you make me?” He asks, looking down at you as you felt his heart race beneath your touch “That’s what you do to me, sweetheart. No one else. You. I love you. I love you until my heart stops beating, you understand?”

“I love you too, Eddie.” You proclaim “More than anything.”

“Good.” He smiles, nuzzling his nose against your cheek “Because you’re stuck with me. Forever. Just like this.”

And you couldn’t imagine wanting to be with anyone else but Eddie. Forever.

Just…like…this.

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[beasbrain]

Moth to a Flame

description: you’ve always been sweet. too sweet, probably. then, eddie starts taking you on dates, putting cigarettes to your lips, and looking at you like he wants to ruin you just a little bit.

pairing: eddie x henderson!reader (fem!reader)

tags: eddie x henderson!reader, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, soft corruption, "good girl" energy, sweethearts you to DEATH, firsts, mutual pining, praise kink undertones, protective eddie, eddie not knowing what to do with all of this softness, "jesus christ" 24/7, shy affection, "there she is", "that's my girl", horny but sweet

TW: NSFW (18+) minors do not interact!!, PiV, smoking

WC: 9.9k

A/N: requested by @ihaveaspoon i hope you enjoy!!!! reblog for ya girl, if you don't mind ;) why do i lowkey love a corruption fic🫣 *proofread as best as i could, my brain hurts, sorry

People always say the same things about you.

Sweet, polite, and pretty in that soft sort of way that makes old women at the grocery store smile at you fondly and teachers immediately trust you with passing out papers.

The kind of girl who remembers everyone’s favorite candy, who waves when people let her cross the street, who still says bless you when someone sneezes, even if she doesn’t know them. Hawkins is small enough that kindness stands out, and yours seems endless.

It’s almost strange, really.

Not because you’re naive exactly, but because the world has not managed to harden you yet. You still help Dustin with his homework even after he acts like a little asshole all through dinner. You still leave little notes in his lunchbox and compliment strangers’ outfits and smile at people like you genuinely hope they’re having a good day.

And maybe that’s why nobody’s ever dated you.

Not for lack of trying, because boys definitely do. They trip over themselves around you constantly, all awkward grins and sweaty palms and invitations to the movies that you somehow never realize are dates until weeks later when Robin physically grabs your shoulders and says, “Honey, he was flirting with you.”

Your response had only been a confused blink. “He was?”

Robin had stared at you for a very long moment before muttering something about you being “a baby deer in the middle of hunting season.”

The thing is, romance has always felt like something happening around you instead of to you. Girls in your grade pass notes about kissing boys behind the bleachers while you sit beside them, doodling little stars in the margins of your notebook.

Nancy comes over ranting about Steve, and you listen carefully, chin in your palm, like she’s telling you a story from another planet entirely. Then there’s Eddie. And honestly, maybe the universe should’ve warned him first.

Because Eddie is used to people looking at him and immediately deciding what he is before he even opens his mouth. Freak. Burnout. Drug dealer. Satanist. Every adult in Hawkins looks at him like he’s one wrong move away from corrupting their children, and every girl who flirts with him does it with this expectation that he’ll play into the role they’ve already created in their heads.

But you don’t, you look at him the same way you look at everyone else: warmly.

The first time he really notices it is after Hellfire one night, when everyone else has already cleared out of the drama room except you, sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs, waiting for Dustin to finish arguing with Mike about some campaign detail. Eddie’s shoving books back into his bag when you quietly slide a can of Coke across the table toward him.

“I remembered this was your favorite,” you say simply.

And Eddie just stares at you. Because you remembered that. Not in a flirty way. Not trying to get anything from him. You’d just noticed him mentioning it once weeks ago and tucked the information away in that sweet little head of yours like it mattered.

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.

You blink at him softly. “What?”

“Nothin’, sweetheart.”

The nickname slips out before he can stop it. And the worst part is the way your entire face warms at it, ducking your head shyly like nobody’s ever called you something like that before. Which, horrifyingly enough for Eddie, might actually be true.

Steve’s living room is already loud by the time Eddie gets there.

Robin is halfway through aggressively arguing with Nancy about what movie they’re watching, Steve looks one inconvenience away from death on the couch, and somewhere in the kitchen, Dustin is complaining about the lack of “real snacks” like he personally funds the grocery shopping. 

It’s warm inside the Harrington house, all yellow lighting and cluttered blankets draped over the couch cushions, the kind of easy domesticity Eddie always feels a little strange stepping into. Then he sees you.

Curled up in the corner of the couch with sock-covered feet tucked beneath you, smiling the second the front door opens.

“Eddie!” you say brightly, like you hadn’t just seen him yesterday at Hellfire. “There’s still space next to me.”

That immediately becomes the worst moment of Eddie’s entire life.

Because there is space next to you, a very obvious space. One you apparently saved for him without thinking twice. Robin notices the way Eddie visibly hesitates in the doorway and has to fake a coughing fit into her sleeve to keep from laughing.

Eddie drops onto the couch beside you with what he hopes resembles casualness. “Well, sweetheart, how thoughtful of you. Saved me from sitting on the crusty Harrington carpet.”

Steve flips him off from the recliner. “You’re lucky you were invited at all.”

You giggle softly at that, and Eddie immediately has to look away from you.

The movie starts eventually, though Eddie barely absorbs any of it. Not when you’re sitting tucked against his side close enough that your knees keep brushing every few minutes. Every time it happens, you murmur a tiny “sorry” under your breath before doing it all over again thirty seconds later, entirely unaware of the psychological warfare you’re inflicting on him.

At some point during the movie, you start reaching into the popcorn bowl in his lap instead of the one on the coffee table. Again, absentmindedly. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world to lean across him every few minutes with your soft perfume surrounding him and your sleeve brushing against his rings.

Eddie thinks he may actually be dying.

“Oh my god, this part is so sad,” you whisper at one point, turning toward him with wide eyes.

Eddie blinks. “Sweetheart, this guy has been on screen for maybe four minutes.”

“I know,” you whisper back earnestly. “But look at him.”

And Christ.

That’s another thing about you, you care about everything. Movie characters with three lines. Stray cats behind Melvald’s. Random kids crying in the grocery store. You move through the world with this unbearable softness that makes Eddie feel simultaneously protective and completely ruined by you.

About halfway through the movie, the room cools enough that you quietly reach for the blanket bunched beside Eddie’s leg. He lifts it automatically to help you pull it over yourself, only for you to immediately lift one side toward him too.

“You’ll get cold,” you murmur.

Eddie stares at you for a beat too long before slowly ducking beneath the blanket beside you. Across the room, Robin physically presses her lips together to stop herself from making a noise. Then, somehow, things get worse. Because sometime during the second movie, you get sleepy.

Eddie notices it in little ways first. The slower blinking, the way your words trail off halfway through comments. Eventually, your head tips sideways against his shoulder so naturally that it almost seems unconscious.

The entire room goes quiet for exactly two seconds. Not because of you, but because Eddie completely freezes.

You don’t even realize what you’ve done at first, already half-asleep against him beneath the blanket. Then your eyes blink open slightly, face warming the tiniest bit when you realize where you’re leaning.

“Oh,” you mumble softly. “Is this okay?”

Eddie thinks his heart physically hurts.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘Course it is.”

You smile at that. Small and sleepy and trusting. Then your eyes drift shut again against his shoulder like there was never a possibility he’d say no. Robin watches Eddie very carefully after that. Specifically, the way he doesn’t move for the next hour, not even once.

By the time the movie ends, you’ve wandered into the kitchen with Nancy to help clean up empty soda cans while Dustin argues with Steve over something stupid in the dining room. Eddie is still sitting on the couch like he’s recovering from a near-death experience when Robin drops into the seat beside him.

“You are so unbelievably into her,” she says immediately.

Eddie scoffs without looking at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit. You looked at her like a Victorian man seeing an ankle.”

That finally gets a reluctant snort out of him. Robin grins, leaning back into the couch cushions. “She likes you too, y’know.”

Eddie’s expression changes instantly. “No, she doesn’t.” The response comes too fast. 

Robin’s face softens slightly beneath the teasing. “Eddie—”

“She’s nice to everybody,” he cuts in quietly, eyes flicking toward the hallway where you disappeared moments ago. “That’s just who she is.”

And maybe that’s the problem, because Eddie knows what people like him do to things that are soft.

Friday afternoon sunlight spills warm through the hallway windows, catching against Eddie’s face as he leans against the lockers outside your classroom like he’s been there a while, pretending not to wait for you.

Which is exactly what he’s been doing.

You almost miss him at first while stuffing books into your bag, too focused on making sure Dustin remembered his science worksheet this morning. It’s only when someone whistles obnoxiously down the hall, and Eddie flips them off without even turning around, that your eyes finally land on him.

And immediately, your stomach does something strange. Not bad, strange, just strange. Because Eddie’s looking at you already.

Not casually either. His dark eyes lock onto yours the second you notice him, and for a moment, he looks almost nervous, which feels impossible considering this is Eddie. Eddie, who performs lunch table monologues and flirts with teachers for extra credit, acts like the entire world is his stage.

You smile anyway.

“There she is,” he says, pushing off the lockers.

“Hi,” you answer softly, adjusting the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder. “Were you waiting for someone?”

Eddie actually laughs at that.

“Sweetheart,” he says, stepping closer, “you are genuinely killin’ me.”

Your brows pull together a little. “What?”

“Nothin’.” He shakes his head, grinning to himself before dragging his rings along the back of his neck. Suddenly, he looks oddly uncertain again. “Uh… actually, I was waitin’ for you.”

“Oh.” The word comes out quieter than you mean for it to.

The hallway around you buzzes with noise, lockers slamming and people shoving past each other on their way outside, but it suddenly feels very far away. Eddie shifts his weight once, eyes flicking over your face like he’s trying to gauge something.

Then he says, “You wanna go out with me tonight?”

“You mean…” You blink once. “Like a date?”

Eddie’s mouth twitches slightly. “Yeah, sweetheart. Like a date.”

And maybe it’s embarrassing how fast your face warms.

Not because you don’t want to go. God, you do. You think maybe you’ve wanted to for longer than you realized. It’s just that nobody’s ever looked at you quite like Eddie is right now, all careful confidence hiding something softer underneath. 

“Okay,” you say before you can overthink it.

Eddie stills. “Okay?”

You smile a little shyly. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

For a second, Eddie genuinely looks stunned.

Then the slowest grin spreads across his face, crooked and warm and so unfairly pretty that you have to glance down at your shoes for a second just to collect yourself.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, mostly to himself.

You laugh softly. “What?”

“There’s that thing again where you say yes to me like I just asked if you wanted a pencil instead of—” He cuts himself off with another disbelieving shake of his head. “Tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats, like he still can’t believe it.

He walks backward down the hallway afterward, still grinning at you in this helpless sort of way, before finally turning toward the exit. You stand there for a moment after he disappears, your heartbeat feeling strangely uneven beneath your ribs.

Then, naturally, you go find Robin.

She’s already behind the Family Video counter when you walk in later that afternoon, lazily rewinding tapes with Steve half-asleep beside her. The second she sees your face, her eyes narrow suspiciously.

“What happened?”

You blink. “Nothing happened.”

“That is not a nothing face.”

Steve lifts his head slightly from the counter. “What’s a nothing face?”

Robin points at you dramatically. “That face. That’s the face girls make before they tell you life-altering information.”

Your cheeks warm immediately. “It’s not life-altering.”

“Oh my god,” Robin gasps. “You kissed someone.”

“What? No!”

Steve snorts tiredly into the counter. Robin leans forward. “Then what?”

You hesitate for half a second before saying quietly, “Eddie asked me on a date.”

Then Robin slams both palms onto the counter so hard Steve nearly falls out of his chair. “I KNEW IT.”

Your face warms instantly beneath her stare. Steve looks significantly more awake now, too, blinking between the two of you while Robin points at you like you’ve personally validated her entire worldview.

“I told you he liked her,” she says to Steve.

Steve shrugs. “I mean, yeah. The guy looks at her like she personally invented music.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, covering your face briefly with your sleeve.

Robin immediately softens at that, grinning as she leans her elbows onto the counter. “Aw, honey, don’t look embarrassed. This is cute.”

Cute. The word alone makes your stomach flutter strangely.

You glance down shyly, tracing your thumb along the strap of your bag. “It’s just a date.”

“Mhm,” Robin hums knowingly. “And what exactly are we wearing to this very casual, definitely-not-important date?”

You blink. “I don’t know yet.”

Steve finally sits up straighter. “Wait, hold on. Tonight tonight?”

You nod once. Robin gasps dramatically. “Oh, this is serious.”

“It is not serious,” you protest immediately. 

Robin’s expression turns fond in that way it sometimes does around you, all teasing melting into something softer. “Sweetie, he stood outside your classroom looking nervous and was a statue when you fell asleep on him. You’ve altered his brain chemistry.”

You hide your face again with a quiet groan while Steve laughs under his breath.

“I’m serious,” Robin continues. “I have literally never seen him act normal around anybody he’s interested in.”

Before you can answer, Robin suddenly narrows her eyes. “Wait. Have you even been on a date before?”

You hesitate just long enough for her to gasp. “Oh, my god.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you say quickly.

Steve blinks at you. “Like… ever?”

You shrug awkwardly. “I don’t know. Nobody’s really asked.”

Robin and Steve share a look over your head that feels deeply loaded.

“What?” you ask suspiciously.

Robin shakes her head slowly. “Nothing. I just think half the male population of Hawkins is profoundly stupid.”

You laugh quietly at that, cheeks still warm. “You guys are making this sound way more dramatic than it is.”

Robin reaches over the counter to squeeze your hand once. “No, honey. We’re making it sound exactly as dramatic as it is.”

By seven o’clock, your bedroom looks like a small tornado passed through it.

Not because you’re trying overly hard, exactly. More because every outfit suddenly feels wrong the second you put it on. Robin’s teasing voice still echoes faintly in your head every time you glance in the mirror.

"Eddie Munson stood outside your classroom, nervous."

Which is ridiculous, Eddie doesn’t get nervous. However, your stomach has been fluttering stupidly for the last hour anyway.

Eventually, you settle on something simple. Something that still feels like you. Soft sweater, jeans that fit nicely, a little lip gloss Nancy once insisted you’d “thank her for later.” By the time you finally step out of your bedroom, the house is quiet except for the television murmuring faintly from the living room.

Dustin is sprawled across the couch with a bowl of cereal balanced on his stomach despite the fact it’s fully evening. He glances up absentmindedly at first.

His entire face lights up. “Whoa.”

You immediately laugh nervously. “What?”

“You look pretty.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you slightly off guard. Dustin sits up straighter on the couch, grinning at you in a way that suddenly reminds you painfully that he’s still your little brother underneath all the dramatics and endless talking.

“You really think so?”

“Duh.” He gestures vaguely with his spoon. “Eddie’s gonna freak out.”

Your cheeks warm instantly. “Dustin.”

“What? He likes you like… aggressively.”

You laugh softly despite yourself, smoothing your hands nervously over your sleeves. “Robin said the same thing.”

“Because it’s true,” Dustin says, like it’s obvious. “He talks about you all the time.”

That makes you blink. “He does?”

“Oh my god,” Dustin groans, dropping back dramatically against the couch cushions. “You seriously have no idea, do you?”

Before you can answer, headlights sweep briefly across the front window.

Dustin sits bolt upright immediately. “He’s here.”

Dustin notices your expression and grins even wider. “You’re nervous.”

“I am not.”

“You are,” he says delightedly. “This is amazing.”

Then there’s a knock at the door, and your heartbeat feels too loud. Dustin looks between you and the front door with poorly concealed excitement before jumping up from the couch first.

“Oh, I’m answering it.”

“Dustin—”

Too late. He yanks the front door open with the energy of a child on Christmas morning.

Eddie’s standing on the porch in dark jeans and his leather jacket, curls slightly messy like he’s been dragging nervous hands through them. 

He’s holding a small bouquet of flowers that look suspiciously like they came from the little stand outside Melvald’s, and for once in his life, Eddie Munson actually seems unsure of himself.

Then his eyes land on you behind Dustin, and he completely forgets how to speak. Dustin looks back and forth between the two of you with visible delight.

“Oh my god,” he whispers dramatically. “He is freaking out.”

Eddie blinks once like he’s rebooting. “Henderson, I will kill you.”

“You brought flowers,” Dustin says smugly.

Eddie ignores him entirely, still staring at you in a way that makes your chest feel warm all over again. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi.” The word comes out softer than you intended.

Eddie swallows once. Then, very carefully, he holds the flowers out toward you. “These are for you.”

“Be home by ten!” Dustin calls dramatically as Eddie leads you back toward the van.

You pause halfway down the walkway. “Since when do you give me a curfew?”

“Since now,” he says importantly, leaning against the front doorframe. “And no funny business.”

Eddie scoffs loudly without looking back. “You are literally fifteen.”

“And wiser than both of you combined.”

You laugh softly under your breath as Eddie opens the passenger door for you with an exaggerated bow. 

“Goodbye, Dustin.”

“GOODBYE. BE SAFE. DON’T GET PREGNANT.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, face burning as Eddie bursts into helpless laughter beside you.

The front door slams shut before you can retaliate further.

“Your brother is insane.”

“You encourage him.”

“Because he’s funny.”

“He’s awful.”

Eddie laughs again as the van rumbles to life beneath you. The sound settles warmly through the small space alongside the radio's quiet static, and for a little while, things feel easy. 

Eddie drums his fingers against the steering wheel while he drives one-handed, occasionally glancing over at you with this small private smile that makes your stomach flutter every single time.

It isn’t until he pulls into the overlook outside town later that night that things start to shift.

The place is mostly empty this late, only a couple of scattered cars parked beneath the dark stretch of sky overlooking Hawkins. “This okay?” he asks.

You nod immediately. “Yeah. It’s pretty up here.”

Eddie’s eyes linger on your face for a second too long before he looks away again with a quiet hum. “Yeah,” he says softly. “It is.”

Then, after a moment, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.

You watch absentmindedly as he taps one loose and settles it between his lips, the flame from his lighter briefly illuminating the sharp lines of his face in warm orange. Smoke curls slowly into the night air once he exhales. 

You don’t know why you ask. Maybe curiosity, maybe because everything about Eddie feels a little intoxicating lately.

“Can I try one?”

Eddie freezes mid-exhale. Slowly, he turns toward you. “What?”

You shrug a little, suddenly oddly shy beneath the intensity of his stare. “Just once.”

For a second, he just looks at you. “You’ve never smoked before.”

It isn’t a question. You shake your head once. “No.”

Eddie lets out the faintest breath through his nose, eyes dragging away toward the windshield for a moment. His rings tap softly against the cigarette resting between his fingers.

And maybe this is exactly the kind of thing everyone in Hawkins expects from him. Corrupting nice girls in parked vans late at night. The thought should probably make him feel guilty. Instead, all he can think about is the way you’re looking at him right now, all soft curiosity and trust.

“Sweetheart,” he says slowly, “you really shouldn’t ask me things like that.”

Your brows pull together slightly. “Why?”

Eddie glances back at you then, dark eyes unreadable in the low lighting.

“Because,” he says quietly, “I’m probably gonna say yes.”

Before you can overthink it, Eddie sighs softly and shifts closer across the seat, cigarette still balanced between his fingers. “C’mere.”

You lean closer instinctively, knees brushing his in the cramped space between the seats. Eddie watches you the entire time, gaze flicking once toward your mouth before he catches himself.

“This’ll probably taste awful, by the way.”

You smile a little. “You’re really selling it.”

“Just bein’ honest.”

Carefully, he lifts the cigarette toward your lips. And Christ. The sight alone nearly does him in.

You hesitate only briefly before taking a tentative inhale exactly the way he showed you. Almost immediately, your face scrunches up as you start coughing lightly into your sleeve.

Eddie laughs instantly, reaching over to rub a warm hand against your back. “Easy, easy— there she is.”

“That is horrible,” you rasp between coughs, eyes watering slightly.

“I did warn you.”

You’re still laughing softly at yourself when you finally glance back up at him, only to realize how close he is now. For a moment, neither of you moves.

The cigarette burns slowly between Eddie’s fingers, forgotten entirely now as his eyes stay fixed on yours. You can still feel the warmth of his hand through your sweater, where it rests against your back. Though the look on his face is becoming significantly less careful by the second.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod once.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Your voice comes out softer than usual, and Eddie notices immediately. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself, dragging his eyes away from your mouth with visible effort.

His hand slips from your back only so he can lean farther into the seat, head tipping briefly against it like he’s trying to regain control of his own thoughts.

You watch him for a second before smiling slightly. “What?”

Eddie laughs once, but there’s no real humor in it. “You have genuinely no idea what you do to me, huh?”

Your stomach flips hard enough to make you glance away. Not because you don’t understand what he means, you do.

Maybe not fully, or with the same confidence other girls seem to have, but you understand enough to feel the tension thickening between you now. The difference is you’re not afraid of it, not with him.

“You make me nervous, too,” you admit quietly.

That gets Eddie’s attention instantly. His head turns toward you again, curls falling slightly into his eyes. “I do?”

You nod, fingers fidgeting lightly in your lap. “You always look at me like you’re thinking something.”

Eddie goes very still. Because he is, constantly.

And suddenly, he’s picturing every single filthy thought he’s had about you over the last few weeks while you sat beside him smiling sweetly like you trusted him with your whole heart.

Every moment, he’s imagined pulling you into his lap, kissing you until you forgot your own name, hearing soft sounds fall from your mouth, all because of him.

Dangerous thoughts, especially about someone like you.

“You really wanna know what I’m thinking?” he asks finally, voice lower now.

The question sends heat crawling up your neck. Still, you nod.

Eddie studies your face for another long second. Then he leans closer again, slowly enough for you to stop him if you want to. You don’t.

“You sit next to me,” he murmurs, eyes flicking between yours and your mouth, “lookin’ all pretty and sweet all the time, and you don’t even realize what it does to me.”

Your breath catches quietly. 

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, almost pained, “I’m trying my best here not to ruin you.”

The word ruin sends a pulse of heat low in your stomach. His gaze darkens immediately at your reaction.

“There she is,” he says quietly, almost pleased. “That got your attention.”

Your face burns. “Eddie…”

“What?” he asks innocently, though there’s nothing innocent about him anymore. “You asked.”

You should probably tell him to stop. Instead, you whisper, “Keep talking.”

Eddie actually closes his eyes briefly at that. When he opens them again, his face slips into something soft, following something dangerous. Like the restraint he’s been clinging to all night is finally beginning to slip.

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs.

You laugh nervously. “I thought you were supposed to be the bad influence.”

“Oh, trust me, doll.” Eddie’s hand slides slowly along your knee, warm and deliberate enough to make your pulse jump. “I am.”

The touch alone feels impossibly intimate. Not because it’s inappropriate, not because it’s even that scandalous. But because it’s Eddie.

Because he’s touching you like he’s trying very hard not to scare you away while simultaneously imagining a thousand worse things.

“You know what the worst part is?” he asks quietly.

You shake your head once.

“I don’t even think you mean to do it.”

His thumb brushes absentmindedly against your knee, and you swear he notices the exact second your breathing changes.

“You smile at me,” he continues softly, “sit close to me, remember little details that nobody should remember… and every time you do, I think maybe this is the moment I finally lose my mind.”

Your heart is pounding so hard now you’re convinced he can hear it. Especially when his eyes drop once more toward your mouth.

Eddie’s thumb is still stroking slow circles over your knee, his dark eyes locked on your mouth like he’s starving for it. You can barely breathe.

“Eddie…” you whisper, not sure what you’re even asking for.

He lets out a shaky breath, like your voice alone is undoing him. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you lean in the last few inches and press your lips to his: soft, uncertain, barely a kiss at all, more like a gentle brush. 

Eddie freezes for half a second, then groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth. His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck, careful, as he tilts his head and kisses you back properly, like he’s teaching you how good it can feel.

You make a tiny surprised sound when his tongue traces your bottom lip, and he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing hard.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough. “We can stop anytime. Just tell me.”

“I don’t want to stop,” you whisper, cheeks burning. Your hands are trembling as you reach up and curl your fingers into his jacket. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut like the words physically pain him. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that?”

He kisses you again, deeper this time, guiding you with gentle pressure until your mouth opens for him. The slide of his tongue against yours makes heat pool low in your belly, unfamiliar and overwhelming.

You try to match him, tentative and sweet, and when you shyly suck on his tongue, he makes a broken noise and pulls you closer across the seat.

He pants against your lips while his hand stays gentle on your neck, thumb stroking your jaw, but his other hand grips the edge of the seat like he’s holding himself back from devouring you.

You kiss him harder, braver now, and he rewards you with a soft moan that goes straight between your legs. When you accidentally graze his bottom lip with your teeth, something you’ve only ever seen in movies, he jerks, fingers tightening in your hair.

Eventually, he pulls back, eyes dark, lips swollen. “Back of the van?” he asks, almost hesitant. “Only if you want. We don’t have to—”

You nod before he can finish, heart hammering. “I want to. With you.”

Eddie helps you climb through to the back, spreading out the blankets he keeps there like he’s making a nest for you. He lays you down so gently it makes your chest ache, then settles over you on his elbows, careful not to crush you.

“Look at me, baby,” he says softly, brushing hair from your face. “We go as slow as you need. Tell me if anything hurts or feels weird, okay? Promise me.”

“I promise,” you whisper, reaching up to touch his cheek.

He kisses you again, slower, deeper, until you’re squirming beneath him.

His hands stay respectful at first, stroking your sides and waist, until you arch into him and he finally slides one under your sweater. The warmth of his palm on your bare skin makes you gasp.

“So soft,” he murmurs against your neck, kissing down the column of your throat. “So fucking perfect.”

You’re trembling when he helps you out of your sweater and bra, but not from fear. Eddie looks at you like you’re something holy, eyes reverent as he cups your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples until they tighten.

“Eddie—” Your voice breaks on his name when he leans down and takes one into his mouth, gentle suction and slow flicks of his tongue. You’ve never felt anything like it. Your hands fly to his hair, gripping curls, and he groans in approval.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Hold onto me.”

He works you open with patient fingers later, after your jeans and panties are gone, whispering praise the whole time.

“Relax for me, baby… just like that. Good girl. So wet already, fuck. All for me?”

You nod frantically, hips twitching. When he curls his fingers just right, you cry out, shocked by the sharp burst of pleasure.

“There?” he asks, voice low and pleased. He does it again, watching your face. “Yeah? You like that?”

You can barely speak, just whimper and nod. He keeps talking you through it, gentle but filthy, until you’re shaking apart on his fingers with a broken little moan.

He kisses you through it, then rests his forehead against yours while he rolls on a condom. “You sure, sweetheart? We can stop right here. I’d be happy just making you come all night.”

You shake your head, pulling him closer. “I want you. Please, Eddie.”

He enters you so slowly it almost hurts, a combination of pain and how careful he’s being, how full you feel. He stops every inch, murmuring against your temple.

“Breathe, baby. That’s it… doing so good for me. So tight—fuck, you feel incredible. Breathe, okay?”

When he bottoms out, you both moan. He stays still, buried deep, kissing you softly until the stretch eases into something warm and aching and good.

“Move,” you whisper, nails digging into his back. “Please.”

He rocks into you gently at first, then a little deeper when you start lifting your hips to meet him. Every thrust is measured, his voice a constant low rumble in your ear; praise, dirty little observations, encouragement.

“Look at you taking me so well… my sweet girl. Never thought I’d get to have you like this.”

You get bolder as it builds, wrapping your legs around his waist, experimentally clenching around him. Eddie’s rhythm falters.

“Shit—baby, do that again.”

You do, shy but eager, and he groans like he’s dying. On impulse, you tilt your head and bite his shoulder. Not hard, but just enough to leave a mark. Eddie curses loudly, his hips snapping forward harder for a second before he catches himself.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me lose it,” he laughs breathlessly, kissing you deep.

He reaches between you and rubs your clit in tight circles, voice growing rougher as you both get close.

“Come on, baby. Let me feel you. Want you to come on my cock—yeah, just like that. Good girl. So good for me.”

You shatter with his name on your lips, clenching around him so hard his thrusts turn erratic. He follows right after, burying his face in your neck as he comes with a broken moan, hips jerking.

Afterward, he stays inside you for a long moment, stroking your hair, pressing soft kisses to your flushed face.

“You okay?” he whispers, voice tender. “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, smiling shyly as you nuzzle into him. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”

Eddie laughs softly, pulling the blanket over both of you. “Yeah? Even when I almost lost my mind because you bit me?”

Eddie’s arm is wrapped carefully around your waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing slow patterns against your skin like he can’t stop touching you now that he’s allowed to. Not that you mind.

Your head rests against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly come back down while his other hand plays gently with your hair. Every few seconds, he presses absent little kisses to the top of your head like he’s doing it unconsciously, like affection simply spills out of him naturally around you.

You feel him shift slightly beneath you after a minute, enough that you tilt your chin up to look at him. He’s already staring down at you, dark curls messy, lips slightly swollen, expression somewhere between completely wrecked and deeply concerned.

“…You sure you’re okay?” he asks again quietly.

The question makes your chest ache a little. Not because it’s upsetting, but because he sounds genuinely nervous about it.

You smile softly almost immediately. “Yeah.”

Eddie studies your face carefully anyway, like he’s searching for any sign you don’t mean it. “Yeah?” he repeats.

“Mhm.”

“You promise?”

A quiet laugh leaves you then, small and sleepy and warm from where you’re curled against him. “Eddie.”

“What?” he says defensively, though his hand tightens slightly around your waist. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” Your fingers drift lazily along the chain around his neck while you look up at him. “I’m okay.”

Eddie exhales slowly through his nose, tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

You smile a little wider. “You say that a lot.”

“That’s because you keep doin’ things that make me need divine intervention.”

Your laugh this time is brighter, and Eddie immediately looks at you like he’s just won something.

There’s still this almost disbelieving softness in his expression now, like he hasn’t fully processed that this actually happened. That you happened. 

“You’re thinkin’ too hard,” you murmur.

His mouth twitches slightly. “Can you blame me?”

You shrug a little against him. “Maybe.”

“Sweetheart,” he says quietly, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek, “you trusted me with your first time. I think I’m allowed to spiral a little.”

Heat blooms softly across your face at the words.

“You’re really okay?” he asks one more time, softer now.

You nod against him. “Yeah.”

Then, after a tiny pause: “It was nice.”

Eddie goes completely still underneath you. Slowly, he lifts his head enough to stare down at you properly. “Nice?”

You blink innocently. “Yeah.”

A laugh bursts out of him so suddenly it startles you.

“Baby,” he says through his grin, “I am never letting you describe that as nice again.”

Your face warms instantly as you hide it against his chest with a groan, and Eddie just laughs harder, wrapping both arms around you tighter while pressing another kiss into your hair.

“There she is,” he murmurs fondly. “My sweet girl.”

The next morning feels strangely dreamy. Not in some dramatic life-changing way.

Dustin is still loudly arguing with the television before noon, the neighbor’s dog still won’t stop barking, and Hawkins still looks exactly the same outside your bedroom window.

Every time your mind drifts back to the night before, heat creeps slowly up your neck all over again. Eddie’s hands on your waist. The sound of his voice going rough when you kissed him back. The way he kept checking in afterward, like your comfort mattered more to him than anything else in the world.

You think maybe that’s your favorite part. Not the sex itself, though that had certainly been overwhelming in ways you’re still trying to process. It’s the fact that Eddie held you afterward like something precious.

The phone rings around two in the afternoon. You perk up instantly from your spot sprawled on the living room carpet, flipping through a magazine. Dustin glances over from the couch suspiciously while you practically scramble for it.

“Hello?”

A small pause. Then: “Hey, sweetheart.”

Your stomach flips immediately. You smile before you can help it, curling the phone cord loosely around your finger. “Hi.”

Eddie goes quiet for a second on the other end, like maybe hearing your voice affected him too much. When he speaks again, there’s a smile tucked into his words.

“How’re you feelin’ today?”

Warmth floods your face instantly. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Another tiny pause. “Good.”

From the couch, Dustin narrows his eyes. “Is that Eddie?”

You wave him off blindly while Eddie snorts quietly through the phone. “Your brother sounds possessive.”

“He’s nosy.”

“I heard that,” Dustin calls loudly.

You laugh softly, and Eddie goes quiet again for half a second in that way he keeps doing now, like hearing you laugh still catches him off guard.

“So,” he says eventually, voice lower now, easier. “I was wonderin’ if maybe you wanted to come to the Hideout tonight.”

“The bar?”

“Mm.” You can practically hear him lighting a cigarette through the phone. “Thought maybe I could buy you a drink. Since you’re all grown up now.”

Your face burns instantly. “Eddie.”

“What?” he asks innocently. “You are.”

You tuck your hair behind your ear shyly despite the fact that he can’t see you. “I’ve never been to the Hideout before.”

“I know.”

And for some reason, the way he says it sends warmth straight through you again. Like he enjoys being the first person to show you these things. 

“Only if you want to,” he adds after a second, softer this time. “No pressure.”

You smile immediately at that. “I wanna go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie exhales quietly through his nose, almost sounding relieved. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll come get you around eight.”

“Okay.”

There’s another pause afterward that stretches warm and comfortable between you both. Then Eddie says, quieter now, “Missed you today.”

Your heart stutters embarrassingly hard. “Oh.”

A soft laugh crackles through the receiver. “There’s that little sound again.”

“What sound?”

“The one you make when I say somethin’ that gets in your head.”

You duck your face instinctively, even though he still can’t see you. From the couch, Dustin groans dramatically. “You are smiling so weird right now.”

The Hideout smells faintly like cigarettes, beer, and old wood, the second Eddie pushes the door open for you.

It’s darker inside than you expected, lit mostly by warm amber lights strung lazily behind the bar and the colored glow from an old neon beer sign buzzing softly in the corner. A band is setting up near the tiny stage in the back while people crowd around sticky tables, laughing too loudly over the music humming through the speakers.

His hand settles lightly against the small of your back, warmth through your shirt as he leans closer so you can hear him over the noise. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You glance up at him and smile. “Yeah. It’s just different than I expected.”

Eddie grins. “What, you thought it’d be glamorous?”

“A little.”

“Aw, honey.” He nudges you gently toward the bar. “This place barely passes health inspection.”

You laugh softly under your breath, and Eddie’s expression immediately softens at the sound like it always does now. There’s still something almost disbelieving in the way he looks at you tonight, like he can’t quite process that you came here with him willingly. That you’re sitting beside him at the Hideout, of all places. 

The bartender greets Eddie immediately as soon as you slide onto the stools. “Munson.”

“Hey, Frank.”

Then Frank notices you beside him, one brow lifting slowly.

Eddie catches it instantly. “Don’t start.”

Frank smirks knowingly before wiping down the counter. “Wouldn’t dream of it. What can I get you two?”

Eddie glances sideways at you thoughtfully for a second, tapping his rings lightly against the bartop. “Lemme get a beer…”

Then his eyes flick back toward you again, something amused flickering there.

“And a Dirty Shirley for her.”

You blink. “How did you know that’s what I’d like?”

Eddie shrugs casually, though the corner of his mouth twitches upward. “You just seem like a Dirty Shirley kinda girl.”

The answer makes you laugh softly. And for some reason, Eddie looks absurdly pleased with himself over that. When the drinks arrive a minute later, you eye yours curiously before taking a cautious sip through the straw.

Immediately, your face brightens. “Oh, this is good.”

Eddie snorts into his beer. “Yeah, because it’s basically candy.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Nah.” His gaze drifts slowly over your face again, softer now. “Kinda fits you, actually.”

Heat creeps up your neck at the way he says it. You glance down shyly at your drink while Eddie leans one elbow onto the bar beside you, watching you with open fondness now that nobody from school is around to see it.

“You nervous?” he asks after a moment.

“A little.”

“About bein’ here?”

You shrug slightly. “I guess.”

Eddie hums quietly, eyes flicking around the crowded bar before settling back on you. “Nobody’s gonna bother you while you’re with me.”

The words shouldn’t affect you as much as they do. Maybe it’s the confidence in his voice. Maybe it’s the fact that he says it so naturally, like protecting you is already instinct.

Or maybe it’s just Eddie.

“Good,” you say softly before taking another sip.

Eddie goes suspiciously quiet beside you, and you glance over. “What?”

His eyes drag slowly from your lips back up to your face.

“Nothin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You just look real pretty sittin’ here.”

The music hums warmly through your chest now instead of pounding against it, and the second Dirty Shirley Eddie absolutely did not need to buy you has left your cheeks pleasantly warm. You’re leaning closer to him without thinking anymore, your knee pressed between his, where he sits angled toward you at the bar like the rest of the room barely exists.

Eddie’s halfway through telling you some ridiculous story about Gareth nearly setting a school amplifier on fire when you start laughing hard enough to grab onto his arm.

And that completely derails him.

He loses his train of thought instantly, eyes dropping to your hand wrapped around his forearm before slowly flicking back up toward your face. You’re still smiling at him, all sweet and tipsy, entirely unaware of the effect you have on him.

“Why’d you stop talking?” you ask.

Eddie blinks once. “You’re pretty distracting, sweetheart.”

Your face warms immediately.

“There she is,” he murmurs fondly into his beer.

Eventually, the bar starts getting louder as more people crowd in, conversations overlapping with the music until Eddie notices you beginning to glance around, slightly overwhelmed. 

His hand settles instinctively against your knee beneath the bar. “You wanna get outta here?”

You look back at him immediately. “Yeah.”

Eddie studies your face carefully for a second before asking softer, “Wanna come back to my place?”

And maybe it should feel more scandalous than it does. Instead, all you feel is warm trust settling low in your chest when you nod. “Okay.”

The drive to the trailer park is quiet in the nicest way.

One of Eddie’s tapes plays softly through the van speakers while warm night air drifts through the cracked windows. Your head rests lazily against the seat as streetlights pass over Eddie’s face every few seconds, catching the silver of his rings against the steering wheel.

He keeps glancing at you, not subtly either. Every time you catch him, he smiles crookedly to himself before looking back at the road.

By the time he parks outside the trailer, you’re pleasantly floaty enough that you don’t even think twice before following him up the steps. The trailer is dim and familiar from all the times you’ve picked Dustin up after Hellfire. Eddie immediately tosses his keys onto the counter before turning toward you.

“You want somethin’ to drink?”

You shake your head slightly before your eyes catch the cigarette pack sticking halfway out of his jacket pocket.

“…Can I try another one?”

Eddie actually laughs softly under his breath. “You are trouble.”

You smile innocently. “You said that already.”

“Yeah, well.” His eyes drag slowly over your face again. “Still true.”

This time, when he pulls a cigarette loose and lights it, you step closer before he even asks. Eddie notices immediately, something dark and pleased flickering briefly across his expression before he tamps it down.

“C’mere then, sweetheart.”

The pet name lands warm in your stomach now.

You lean in slightly while Eddie lifts the cigarette toward your mouth again, two fingers resting carefully beneath your chin to angle your face upward. The touch alone feels unfairly intimate, especially when his eyes stay fixed on your lips the entire time.

“That’s it,” he murmurs softly as you inhale carefully.

This time, you barely cough, and Eddie’s brows lift immediately. “Well, look at that.”

You laugh lightly through the smoke, a little proud of yourself despite how ridiculous that probably is.

Meanwhile, Eddie looks devastatingly fond. “That’s my girl,” he says quietly.

Your face flushes even more now, like that’s even possible. 

“You like it when I say stuff like that, huh?” he asks gently.

You glance down shyly. “Maybe.”

His grin turns downright dangerous. “Jesus Christ.”

Then, before you can recover from that, Eddie disappears briefly toward his bedroom area. You hear drawers opening for a second before he returns holding something glass and obnoxiously large in one hand.

You blink. “What’s that?”

“A bong.”

Your expression must give you away because Eddie immediately laughs. “Relax, sweetheart. It’s just weed.”

“I know what weed is.”

“Mhm.” He drops onto the couch cushions beside you, smirking slightly. “And yet you looked at it like a church girl.”

You nudge his shoulder lightly while he chuckles to himself, already packing it with practiced familiarity. Then he glances sideways at you.

“You wanna try?” There’s no pressure in his voice, just some boyish curiosity.

You hesitate briefly before nodding. “Okay.”

Eddie’s expression softens instantly into something almost unbearably affectionate. “Attagirl.”

Heat floods your face again.

A few minutes later, you’re sitting tucked against his side while he guides you through it patiently, one hand steady against your waist while the other helps position your fingers correctly.

“Slow,” he murmurs. “Yeah, just like that.”

You follow his instructions carefully, trying not to focus too hard on the fact that his mouth is barely inches from yours right now. The hit burns less than the cigarette but still catches in your throat enough to make you cough lightly against his shoulder afterward.

Eddie laughs warmly, rubbing your back. “That wasn’t too bad!”

“You make everything sound embarrassing.”

“That’s because everything you do is cute.”

Your face immediately buries against his shoulder while he laughs harder, wrapping an arm around you automatically like he can’t help himself anymore.

By the time the second hit settles in properly, you are absolutely gone.

You’re not panicking or dizzy or anything nightmare-inducing. Everything just suddenly feels unbelievably funny and soft all at once, like the entire trailer has been wrapped in warm cotton. The music playing quietly from Eddie’s radio sounds deeper somehow, and you cannot stop giggling every time he looks at you.

Which he keeps doing, constantly.

“You good there, sweetheart?” he asks from beside you, trying very hard not to laugh himself.

You stare at him for a second too long before nodding very seriously. “Your eyelashes are really pretty.”

That immediately breaks him. Eddie doubles over laughing, one hand covering his mouth while the other stays loosely around your waist to keep you upright, where you’re practically folded into his side on the couch.

“Oh my god,” he wheezes. “You’re high as a kite.”

You gasp softly like he’s offended you. “No, I’m not.”

“You just complimented my eyelashes like you discovered religion.”

“They are pretty.”

That only makes him laugh harder.

You narrow your eyes at him for approximately two seconds before dissolving into giggles, too, burying your face against his shoulder. Eddie wraps both arms around you automatically, then, still shaking slightly with laughter, he presses a kiss into your hair.

“Godt,” he murmurs fondly. “You’re adorable.”

You hum happily against him, completely content tucked into his chest while his rings drag lazily along your back.

A few minutes later, you start rambling, not about anything important either. Just whatever pops into your head.

“You know what’s weird?” you mumble suddenly.

“What’s weird?”

“The moon.”

Eddie snorts softly. “The moon.”

“Yeah. It just follows you around all the time. That’s weird behavior.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think the moon has behavior.”

“It does.”

“Mhm.”

You tilt your head up to look at him very seriously. “You smell good.”

Eddie visibly short-circuits for a second. “…Thanks.”

“And your hair is soft.”

“You touched my hair for like three seconds.”

“I know,” you sigh dreamily. “It was nice.”

That’s apparently the final straw. Eddie drops his forehead briefly against the top of your head with a groan. “Baby, you gotta stop sayin’ things like that before I lose my damn mind.”

You just smile at him sweetly, which does not help. Eventually, after you nearly fall asleep sitting upright against him, Eddie gently decides you need to move to the bed before your neck ends up permanently bent at a horrifying angle.

“C’mon, pretty girl.”

You blink sleepily up at him. “Hm?”

“Bedtime.”

The second he slides an arm beneath your knees and lifts you into his arms, you immediately wrap yourself around him with a soft little laugh.

Eddie steadies you against his chest easily, though his expression goes dangerously fond all over again when you instinctively nuzzle closer against his neck.

“You’re comfy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Like a heating pad.”

Eddie nearly walks directly into the wall laughing.

The mattress dips softly beneath you a moment later as he sets you down carefully onto his bed. You immediately starfishing across it in a way that makes him snort affectionately while crouching beside you.

“You wanna sleep in jeans, sweetheart?”

You make a face. “No.”

“Okay.” His voice stays gentle. “Can I help you change then?”

You nod immediately.  That feeling hits Eddie square in the chest every single time.

So he moves slowly. Helping you swap your jeans for a pair of old sweatpants and one of his oversized shirts while you continue mumbling nonsense the entire time.

“Attractive people should legally have warning labels,” you inform him seriously while he helps guide your arm through the sleeve.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. It’s stressful.”

Eddie laughs softly under his breath. “Poor thing.”

“I’m serious.” You squint at him sleepily. “You’re very handsome. It’s distracting.”

He actually stops moving for a second. “Good lord,” he mutters weakly.

“What?”

“Nothin’, baby.”

By the time you’re finally settled beneath the blankets, your eyes are barely staying open anymore. Eddie starts to pull away toward the edge of the bed before soft fingers catch loosely around his wrist.

“Stay.”

Eddie looks down at you for a long second before his entire expression melts. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he says softly, climbing in beside you. “I’m stayin’.”

By Monday morning, half of Hawkins High has already noticed the jacket.

Not because it’s particularly flashy. Eddie’s leather jacket has always looked a little worn around the sleeves, a little too big on you, where it hangs past your fingertips. But everyone knows who it belongs to. Hellfire patches and metal pins tend to stand out in a school full of pastel sweaters and varsity jackets.

You don’t even think much of it at first while standing at your locker between classes, adjusting your books against your hip as Robin practically materializes beside you with the energy of someone spotting celebrity gossip in real time.

“Oh, my god.”

You blink. “What?”

Robin gestures wildly toward your body. “The jacket.”

Your eyes drop downward like you somehow forgot you were wearing it. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Robin repeats incredulously. “That’s Eddie’s jacket.”

You shrug a little, though warmth immediately creeps into your cheeks anyway. “I got cold Saturday.”

“And he let you keep it?”

The way she says it makes you pause. “…Yeah?”

Robin stares at you for a very long moment before muttering, “That man is so far gone.”

You laugh softly under your breath, trying and failing to suppress your smile while Robin watches the entire thing happen in real time.

“Oh, you like him bad too,” she realizes immediately.

“I do not like him bad.”

“Honey, you are literally wearing his jacket. Is that not the universal equivalent of a declaration?”

Before you can answer, someone whistles from farther down the hallway.

You glance up instinctively just in time to see Eddie leaning beside the cafeteria doors, already beaming, looking at you. More specifically, at you in the jacket. The slow grin that spreads across his face afterward is downright unfair.

Robin physically grabs your arm. “Oh, he’s gonna be unbearable now.”

And she’s right. Because Eddie spends the rest of the day looking at you like he won something.

Every time you pass each other in the hallway, his eyes immediately flick toward the oversized sleeves swallowing your hands before dragging slowly back toward your face with a deeply pleased expression. 

At lunch, he hooks two fingers through one of the jacket loops while passing behind your chair and murmurs a quiet, “Looks better on you anyway, sweetheart,” directly into your ear.

You nearly forget how to speak afterward. By the end of the school day, your cheeks hurt from smiling.

Outside, the parking lot buzzes with engines starting and people spilling toward their cars in noisy groups while you make your way down the front steps. And there he is. Leaning against the side of his van with a cigarette resting between his lips, like he’s been waiting a while. The second he notices you walking toward him, his entire face softens.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

Eddie takes another drag from the cigarette while you stop between his knees, where he’s perched against the van door. “You survive another thrilling academic day?” he asks dryly.

“Barely.”

“Yeah? Tragic.”

You laugh quietly while his eyes drift over your face again, lingering there warm and heavy enough to make your stomach flutter. Then your gaze drops toward the cigarette between his fingers.

A slow smile pulls at his mouth. “What?”

You hesitate briefly before leaning in slightly. “Can I?”

This time, he doesn’t even tease you about it.

He simply lifts the cigarette toward your mouth automatically, eyes fixed steadily on your lips while you lean closer to take a slow drag. The smoke burns less now, familiar enough that you barely cough at all when you exhale.

Eddie watches the entire thing like he’s completely mesmerized.

“Atta’ girl,” he says quietly. The praise settles warm all through you.

Maybe it’s the nicotine. Or the way he’s looking at you. Or the fact that you spent the entire day missing him in a way that feels embarrassing to admit.

But suddenly you just want to kiss him, so you do. You lean forward softly, cigarette smoke still lingering faintly between you as your lips press against his. Eddie makes the quietest sound into your mouth.

His free hand immediately slides against your waist, pulling you closer between his knees while he kisses you back, slower this time, like he’s savoring it. Around you, the parking lot continues moving in noisy blurs, but Eddie kisses you like there’s nobody else there at all.

When you finally pull back slightly, he’s staring at you with completely blown pupils. 

For a second, he just looks at you. Then he lets out a quiet laugh under his breath, thumb brushing absentmindedly along your waist where it’s still holding you close.

“Who are you?” he murmurs, almost disbelieving.

Your face warms instantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie grins slowly, eyes flicking toward the cigarette still dangling between his fingers before dragging back to your mouth.

“Couple weeks ago you were apologizing for saying hell in front of teachers,” he says softly. “Now you’re stealin’ drags from my cigarettes and kissing me in the school parking lot.”

Heat blooms all through your chest at the way he says it. Not mocking, something more towards pleased. Like he’s enjoying watching this softer, bolder side of you emerge.

You smile shyly despite yourself. “Maybe you’re a bad influence.”

Eddie actually groans at that, dropping his forehead briefly against your shoulder.

“Sweetheart,” he mutters, “you cannot say things like that to me.”

“Why not?” you ask innocently. 

Eddie’s thumb hooks beneath your chin immediately.

“Because,” he says quietly, voice rough around the edges now, “you say it like you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

The warmth in your stomach deepens at that familiar tone, at the way he’s looking at you like he’s equal parts obsessed and completely doomed by it. And maybe you do understand a little more now.

Maybe that’s why your smile turns just slightly shy and knowing when you whisper, “Maybe I do.”

Eddie stares at you for half a second like you just physically struck him. Then he laughs softly under his breath, completely gone for you.

“There she is,” he murmurs.

He doesn’t reply with words after that, just hooks his fingers more firmly beneath your chin and drags your mouth back to his.

Eddie kisses like he’s addicted to it already, cigarette smoke still clinging faintly to him while his hand slides warm against your jaw. The parking lot noise fades somewhere far into the background as he tilts his head and kisses you again and again like he can’t help himself anymore.

And when you melt closer against him with a tiny contented sigh, Eddie smiles directly into your mouth, completely, and hopelessly ruined.

badda bing badda boom.

anyyywayyyyy, hope you all enjoyed.... i have a surprise coming at 11pm >:)

taglist is open!!

beebeebeeboop:

@bitterestwillow@kozume-ko, @obsessed-eddie, @doomdabss, @julxsxx, @leelei1980@hexqueensupreme @ches-86 @plaidamoosette @bobiverses@meadows-ofasphodel @whitakerstorm @dreamerjj @sariahs-stuff @brrrainst3w @serendipdipity01 @hypersexytoptobottom @m-art000 @sisteramycatherine @walleloveseve @camsmunson101 @flavorfullstevepeachpuffs25 @abirdinthehouse @m-art000 @micheledawn1975 @whitakerstorm @cciessuzi @blackqueenie-18 @ggdawgg

@bonnieprincess

[jo-harrington]

The Gurgles - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You have a stomach ache and your boyfriend makes you feel better.

Word Count: 1.4k

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson x Reader

Themes/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Established Relationship, Stomach ache and associated symptoms, Probably a Fart/Vomit/Poop mention in association with previous stomach ache, Humor, Reader is too old to be Eddie The Iron Stomach's foodie Ride or Die anymore, I write these fucking tags before I write the fic if you didn't know

Note: Happy Sunday night (when I started writing this fic, and but not when I'm posting it) from my bathroom where I haven’t moved for the past 20 minutes (when I started writing). This is gonna be a quick one as I distract myself from the actual demon I’m exorcising from my body tonight. What’s a girl to do with no other cure but pepto and fanfiction?

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact unless you’re 18+.

Enjoy!

—

There's something about getting older where you can no longer digest food the same way you used to.

For the longest time, you believed that you would never reach that point.

What brought about a swift end to your perceived invincibility would be your boyfriend with a bottomless pit of a stomach: Edward J. Munson. He ordered extra, extra pepperoni on his pizza. Extra, extra cheese too. He made sandwiches with all sorts of condiments and spicy peppers and pickled vegetables. One time, he even said he would buy ice cream with extra lactose if he could, for the richness.

And still somehow, aside from the occasional appearance of the most rancid farts known to man, he was fine. You, unfortunately, were the unsuspecting bystander (read: victim, in more ways than one) along for the ride.

You tried to mitigate the effects. First, it was the travel size bottle of tums that you kept in the glovebox of your car. Next it was the bottle of pepto that you kept in the kitchen, in addition to the one in the medicine cabinet, just in case.

Then, one day, came the end. And, oh boy, did you think it was Capital-The, Capital-End.

Heartburn, the likes of which you'd never experienced before, took you by surprise. You were innocently sitting at your desk at work when it started. A hot sensation in your chest that slowly overtook your abdomen. Just a constant, searing feeling that practically took your breath away after enough time passed. You thought it would just go away; you figured a handful of tums and you'd be fine. Until you weren't. Until you were sitting through a meeting wondering if you were actually having a heart attack. Until you excused yourself and belched obnoxiously as soon as you crossed the threshold into the bathroom.

You could taste the taco pasta bake Eddie insisted on making the night before. Layers of cheese, meat, beans, sour cream and extra, extra pickled jalapeños on top. It was rich and decadent. Delicious.

And it was going to be the thing that killed you.

Your boss, thankfully, saw how miserable you were and sent you home. But home offered no respite.

You dropped your work bag haphazardly by the door, and you stripped down to your underwear; the tight waistband of your pants was doing you no favors. You had the foresight to grab a glass of ice water and place it within arms reach on the edge of the coffee table, before you fell into the squishy cushions of the couch. As you settled into the most comfortable position you could find, the heartburn subsided and the mother of all stomach aches began.

Time passed with only three certain facts: You were gonna puke. You were gonna poop your pants. And then you were going to die.

"Honey, I'm home!" Eddie's voice cut through your agony, and you slowly cracked your eyes open to stare at the ceiling. "I saw your car outside. And your clothes on the floor? You home early as a surprise? Are you naked in bed?"

No, you obviously forgot one certain fact; you were going to kill him.

But as you opened your mouth to yell, your stomach cramped painfully and you let out the most pitiful groan.

"Babe?" The playfulness in his voice was gone, replaced by concern. "You ok?"

"I'm dying," you muttered weakly.

He scoffed immediately, concern vanishing. You both had an understanding: if you were feeling good enough to be dramatic, you were feeling good enough. Typically, it applied to Eddie more than it did to you—he was the biggest baby when he was sick—but you had your moments. Regardless, he took pity on you as he dropped to his knees in front of the couch.

“Alright, the doctor is in,” he joked. “What’s the preliminary diagnosis? Terminal illness? A parasite? Do we need to amputate?”

His fingers reached your bare side and he tickled you gently, wincing as your instinctive laughter turned into another groan.

"Ah, I see." He stroked his invisible beard with one hand and flattened the other so he could rub over your sore belly with the utmost care. "Any other pain? Nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, and dare I ask, diarrhea?"

"I took some pepto earlier," you explained. "Didn't help."

"Well of course it didn't." He now put on an invisible stethoscope. "You didn't have a proper examination."

"It's just a stomach ache," you deadpanned as he started to lean down and inspect you. "You put too much sour cream in the taco bake."

“Nonsense, there’s no such thing as too much sour cream!” He curled his fingers into his palm, and then kneaded your belly in a way not unlike a cat. Of course, a little too much pressure caused a very gentle toot to inadvertently escape you. He wrinkled his nose and you covered your face in embarrassment. “Ok, maybe in this case I was a little heavy-handed.”

He went back to gentle rubbing and then adjusted his invisible stethoscope.

“Let’a give it a listen shall we?”

He leaned his head down and gently placed his ear against your abdomen, readjusting his head a few times before he hummed.

“Ah, well well well.” He lifted his head for a moment. “Seems I found an extra terrestrial creature.” You rolled your eyes as he went back down. “Chest burster? Giant worm of some sort? We’ll get you the bottom of this. You’re lucky I’m a xenoglot. I’ll translate.”

Your stomach, clearly working with Eddie on this comedy act, suddenly made the most embarrassing sound. It was wet and bubbly, and you felt it rumble right below his ear. What did he do in return?

“Gur-gur-gur, blblblbl.” You couldn’t help but laugh as he mumbled stomach noises and resumed kneading and rubbing. He looked up at you, utterly serious, and shushed you. “I’ve made contact. I need concentration if I’m gonna make a proper diagnosis.”

Despite your condition, and the fact that said condition was his fault, you couldn’t help but look at him and be overwhelmed by all the love you felt. From the way he dropped everything to check on you as soon as he got home, to now when he couldn’t help but make you smile as you felt miserable. This idiot—your idiot—had charmed you beyond your wildest imagination, and you didn’t want him to stop.

“Alright Dr. McCoy,” you joked and rested a hand atop his head, giving him an appreciative little scratch. “Or are you Uhura? Communications officer?”

“My legs would look good in that dress.” Your stomach grumbled again. “It agrees. Now shut up. I need to do an advanced procedure. Very delicate.”

You thought his kneading was as far as he was gonna take it. But leave it to Eddie to commit to the bit. He straightened up, shook out his arms, cracked his neck. Then he leaned down and blew the biggest raspberry on your stomach, and in turn you couldn’t help but laugh. You also couldn’t help but pass gas through your poor, unsuspecting ass.

Oh, so you were gonna have the hot poops later. Take back everything you thought about loving him, this was not gonna be fun.

"See, gastrilitis superioris." Eddie nodded sagely, still touting some fake-doctor bullshit. "Also known as a stomach ache. Or, as I like to call it, a case of the Gurgles.”

Of course he had a cute little name for it.

“What’s the treatment doc?” You questioned. “Aside from never letting you cook again?”

“The treatment is 50cc’s of ginger ale,” he ignored your comment, “and letting me feed you saltines as I continue rubbing your tummy for the rest of the night. How does that sound?”

It sounded perfect.

“I think you’re missing something,” you lied. Well, it wasn’t really a lie.

“I am?” Eddie frowned, and straightened his spine. He looked around the apartment as though he expected to find the answer lying about. He saw the telltale pink bottle on the counter in the kitchen and his brows jumped. "Pepto? Because babe, I will pour that pink crap down your throat all night if you need it."

You rolled your eyes and forced yourself upright, just so you could gently cup his face in your hands.

"I hate to ask, doc, but I think the usual treatment also includes 10ccs of smooches."

It was a lightbulb moment, and you were sure that you saw hears in his eyes. His arms snaked around you.

"You already have a prescription for that, sweetheart. Endless refills," he muttered and leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

And you melted into him.

Until you felt your esophagus quiver with an impending burp. You pulled away to try and spare him, only to belch loudly right in Eddie's face.

"Ok," he winced. "Now that was pretty gross."

---

Tagging my WIP Weekenders for getting me to finish this: @sidereustales @rebelfell and an anon 👀 thank you guys

[beasbrain]

Holding Onto You

description: after a messy breakup, being trapped in the upside down with your ex-boyfriend is the last thing you want. unfortunately, almost dying has a funny way of putting things into perspective.

pairing: eddie x ex gf!reader

tags: eddie x you, no y/n, exs to lovers, second chance romance, hurt/comfort, protective eddie, light(ish) post-breakup angst, satisfying fluff, crawl gone wrong, insisting on changing pairs, robin is sick of their bullshit, steve the relationship counselor

TW: violence, severe injury, blood

WC: 7.3k

A/N: based on a request by @enne02 hope you enjoy:)!! this one had me in my feels idk why LOL. reblogs are a writer's best friend<3 (if you know where this title is from, you know ball)

“Alright,” Steve said, pulling his arms tightly together. “Then it’s decided. Tomorrow, the girls will each wear an article of El and Max’s clothing to throw off the Demodogs.”

“They seem to be gunning for the two of them,” Dustin continued. “El for, well, obvious reasons. And Max, because she has dodged Vecna’s curse like, a thousand times. We add some of their blood to make the scent stronger, and some of Nancy and Robin’s to theirs, so the scent is thrown off. Sound good?”

“Yeah, I love being live bait,” Robin says sarcastically, scanning over to you and Nancy.

Nancy just nods in agreement before looking down at you on the couch. 

“What about Will?” You ask, nodding over to the next room. He sat with his back to the group, eyes staring out the window ahead, headphones tight around his head. “Won’t their connection just immediately give this whole plan away?”

Jonathan sighs and closes the door, “He won’t be coming with us. He’s gonna stay at the squawk with my mom and Lucas in case Vecna’s spying. He won’t even be in communication with us.”

You nod once, flashing him a quick sympathetic smile. 

“Alright!” Dustin claps his hands together. “Meet at Lover’s Lake gate sunrise tomorrow.”

The room filled with the sound of shifting bodies and tired sighs as everyone slowly stood from their spots around the Byers' living room.

Robin immediately groaned. “Awesome. Another sunrise meetup. Love that for us.”

“You complain every single time,” Steve muttered, grabbing his car keys off the coffee table.

“Because every single time we almost die, Steve.”

“Fair.”

Nancy was already gathering scattered papers from the table, slipping them into her bag with practiced efficiency. Jonathan disappeared toward the kitchen, mumbling something about coffee, while Dustin launched himself into explaining some other part of the plan to Mike for the third time that night.

You pushed yourself up from the couch slowly, exhaustion heavy in your bones. And unfortunately, your eyes caught Eddie’s from across the room.

He stood near the hallway entrance, arms crossed tightly over his chest, fingers tapping nervously against his forearm. His eyes flicked over you for barely a second before looking away just as quickly. Still couldn’t look at each other normally.

Cool. Normal. Totally fine.

You moved first, grabbing your jacket off the arm of the couch. “I’m gonna head out.”

“I’ll walk you,” Nancy offered immediately.

Before you could answer, Eddie suddenly pushed himself off the wall.

“I got it.”

The room went weirdly quiet for half a second. Robin’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline while Steve looked physically exhausted by the tension.

You stared at Eddie. “I think I can make it to the front door alone.”

“Wasn’t saying you couldn’t,” he muttered.

God. There it was, that sharp edge the two of you had been dancing around for months now.

Nancy glanced between the two of you carefully before stepping back. “Okay then.”

You brushed past Eddie toward the door, hearing his boots follow a second later.

The cold night air hit immediately once the front door opened, damp and sharp against your skin. Crickets buzzed faintly somewhere in the distance while the porch light flickered overhead.

You descended the steps first, and Eddie lingered behind you awkwardly.

“You really think this plan’s gonna work?” you asked quietly.

Eddie shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Nope.”

You huffed out a laugh despite yourself, and his mouth twitched faintly at the sound.

“But,” he added, softer, “it’s the best shot we got.”

You hated how easy it still was to stand beside him. Hated how your body still recognized him instantly. The smell of cigarettes and leather and that stupid cologne you bought him lingered in the cold air between you.

“You should probably get some sleep,” he said finally.

You glanced over at him. “You too.”

There was a moment of hesitation between you, then Eddie rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, curls falling into his face.

“Listen, about tomorrow—”

“We’ll figure it out. Night,” you said quickly, opening your car door and closing it just as fast. 

“Night,” he muttered to himself, tapping the hood of your car once. 

The Upside Down always felt wrong immediately.

The air was thicker here. Wet, heavy with rot and ash and something metallic that clung to the back of your throat every time you breathed too deeply.

The sky stretched above the group in angry shades of red and black lightning, spores drifting lazily through the air like toxic snow, every step squelching beneath your boots.

“God,” Robin muttered, pulling the sleeves of Max’s sweatshirt farther over her hands. “I seriously forgot how much this place smells like a dead animal’s asshole.”

“That is… unbelievably specific,” Nancy replied.

“It’s accurate, though.”

Steve ignored them, flashlight tucked beneath his arm as he unfolded the rough map Jonathan had drawn the night before.

“Alright, listen up.” Everyone slowly gathered closer.

“The crawlspace splits about a mile ahead,” Steve continued. “We cover more ground if we break into pairs.”

“Cool,” Robin nodded. “Dibs on not dying.”

Steve pointed around the group. “Nancy, you’re with Johnathan. Robin, you’re with Dustin and me—” He paused briefly. “Eddie, you and...”

“No.”

The answer left your mouth immediately. Sharp enough that even the distant growls echoing through the Upside Down suddenly felt quieter. Eddie’s head turned toward you instantly.

Steve blinked. “What?”

“I said no.”

You adjusted the shotgun strap harsher than necessary across your shoulder before looking anywhere except Eddie.

“What about Nancy?” you asked. “I’ll go with her.”

Steve shook his head immediately. “Nope. Both sharpshooters can’t be together.”

“Robin then.”

“Also no,” he replied. “You and Robin both have El's blood scent on you. Two El's means a dead giveaway.”

You clenched your jaw. Of course, there was a reason for everything; of course, it made sense. But still...

“No,” you repeated more quietly this time.

Steve sighed heavily like a tired father of six. “Seriously?”

You finally looked at Eddie, and big mistake. Because he looked just as frustrated as you felt, maybe even a little more exhausted from the situation than you were.

“Jesus Christ,” Robin whispered under her breath. “They’re divorced.”

“We were never married,” you snapped instantly.

“Yet,” Dustin mumbled.

You whipped around. “Whatever. Come on, Dustin.”

The kid blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.”

“Uh—”

“Dustin. Let’s go.”

Your voice cracked through the air hard enough that nearby spores trembled slightly as you shoved past the group toward the forest line. Dustin looked between you and Eddie like a hostage negotiator trying not to die.

Steve slowly lifted both hands. “Hey, Henderson?”

“Yeah?”

“I wouldn’t argue with an angry girl holding a shotgun.”

Dustin nodded immediately. “Excellent point.”

“Seriously?” Eddie muttered.

Dustin pointed apologetically at himself before jogging after you. “Sorry, man! Self-preservation!”

Robin watched the two of you disappear into the foggy tree line before glancing sideways at Eddie. “…So how bad was the breakup exactly?”

Eddie stared after you quietly for a long moment. “Bad enough,” he said finally, “that she’d rather walk into monster-infested hell with a fifteen-year-old.”

The three of them moved carefully through the wreckage of downtown Hawkins, flashlights cutting through the thick haze drifting between abandoned cars and crumbling storefronts.

Somewhere in the distance, something screeched. Robin immediately tightened her grip on the flare gun in her hands.

“Mm. Hate that sound. Really hate that sound.”

“Pretty sure that’s the point,” Steve muttered from the front.

Store signs flickered weakly overhead, vines pulsing slowly up the sides of buildings like veins beneath skin.

Eddie barely noticed any of it. Because every few seconds, his eyes kept drifting back toward the tree line where you and Dustin had disappeared twenty minutes ago.

“You know,” she said casually, “if you stare any harder, I think you might actually burn a hole right through the fog.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Steve added. “It’s getting pathetic.”

“I’m literally just walking.”

“You basically broke your neck turning around five seconds ago.”

Eddie scoffed softly and adjusted the strap of the spear against his shoulder. “She’s fine.”

Steve hummed knowingly. “Uh huh.”

The group ducked beneath a collapsed power line before continuing down the street.

Robin glanced between the two boys. “Wait, hold on. I actually don’t know what happened between you two.”

Eddie groaned immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “We’re in hell dimension therapy hour. Spill.”

Eddie kept walking.

“Munson.”

“No.”

“Eddie.”

He sighed dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “It was stupid.”

“That means it was definitely your fault,” Robin replied instantly.

“One-hundred percent,” Steve nodded.

Eddie shot both of them a glare before finally relenting. “Chrissy needed a ride home after a game one night.”

Robin blinked. “That’s it?”

“I didn’t tell her beforehand,” Eddie admitted.

Steve already looked exhausted. “Oh, my God.”

“I was going to!”

“But you didn’t,” Robin pointed out.

Eddie groaned louder. “Okay, yes, thank you, I gathered that much.”

Steve shoved aside a hanging vine as they entered the shell of an old grocery store. “So she saw you?”

“Yeah.”

Robin winced. “Oh, that’s brutal.”

“It wasn’t even like that,” Eddie argued quietly. “Chrissy was upset. Jason was being a dick. I just drove her home.”

“But from her perspective?” Steve replied. “Her boyfriend disappears for half the night with the prettiest girl in school.”

Eddie looked genuinely offended. “Why does everyone keep calling Chrissy the prettiest girl in school? That's not even half-accurate.”

Robin deadpanned. "Oh."

“You still love her,” Steve said it casually, like he was commenting on the weather.

Eddie kept his eyes ahead, flashlight shaking faintly in his grip. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Kinda does when you look one bad day away from throwing up every time she talks to another guy.”

Eddie let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, well. She’s still pissed.”

Steve crawled up beside him slightly. “Did you ever actually apologize?”

“Shut up,” Eddie snapped, ears turning red beneath his curls.

Robin gasped dramatically. “Wait, wait, wait— is that why she’s so pissed? Because she thinks something happened with Chrissy?”

Eddie’s expression tightened slightly. Because yeah, that was part of it. But not all of it, not the real part.

The real part was that instead of fighting harder for you, instead of explaining, instead of chasing after you when you stormed away crying…He let you go.

And he’d regretted it every single day since.

Meanwhile, somewhere deeper in the woods of the Upside Down, you and Dustin trudged through layers of ash and rotting vines in tense silence. Well, mostly tense silence. Because Dustin physically could not stop talking if he tried.

“I’m just saying,” he continued carefully, trying to keep up with your pace, “from an outside perspective, I really don’t think Eddie cheated on you.”

You climbed over a fallen tree branch without looking at him. “Congratulations.”

“I’m serious!”

“Dustin.”

“No, because you weren’t there after, okay? He was literally miserable.”

You snorted softly. “Please.”

“I’m not kidding!” Dustin insisted. “The guy looked like someone kicked his puppy for, like… three months straight.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“He started listening to sad music.”

You glanced back at him dryly. “He already listens to sad music.”

“Okay, fair.”

Dustin ducked beneath a low-hanging vine before continuing. “But seriously, he didn’t do anything with Chrissy.”

You tightened your grip around the shotgun because it still stung hearing her name, even now. Especially now. Because logically? You knew Eddie probably hadn’t cheated. But emotionally, that night still replayed in your head perfectly.

Waiting for him, watching the clock, then seeing his van pull into the trailer park with Chrissy Cunningham in the passenger seat, laughing at something he said. And Eddie, sweet, oblivious, Eddie, looking happier with her than he had with you in weeks.

“You didn’t see them,” you muttered quietly.

Dustin sighed. “I saw him after.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“It should.”

You stopped walking suddenly, sending Dustin nearly crashing into your back.

“You know what the worst part was?” you asked, voice strangely calm.

The spores drifting through the air caught in your hair as you turned toward him.

“I would’ve understood if he just told me.”

Dustin’s expression softened slightly. “He always thought you were too good for him,” he admitted quietly.

That one hit harder than you expected, because yeah. You knew that already, too. Knew it every time Eddie got weird when boys looked at you too long. Every time he joked about you “slumming it” with him. Every time, he acted as if your love for him had an expiration date.

Your chest tightened unpleasantly, but before you could answer, something screeched in the distance. Both of you froze instantly.

Dustin’s face paled. “Uh…” Another screech, but closer this time. Wet. Animalistic.

You slowly lifted the shotgun. The woods around you suddenly felt very, very quiet. Then, movement, fast shadows darting between the trees. One. Two. Three—

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Dustin whispered.

Demodogs, at least five of them. Their slick bodies slithered between the vines surrounding you both, snarling lowly as their flower-like mouths slowly opened.

You grabbed Dustin’s jacket instantly, shoving him backward. “Run.”

“You know what your problem is?” Steve asked as the three of them pushed through the hollow remains of Family Video.

Eddie sighed heavily. “Please enlighten me, Harrington.”

“You think if you screw something up once, that’s it.”

Robin nodded immediately. “Oh my God, yes. That’s exactly his problem.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You two done psychoanalyzing me?”

“No,” Steve replied simply.

They stepped over collapsed shelves, boots crunching through broken VHS tapes scattered across the floor. Outside, thunder rumbled through the red sky.

Steve adjusted the nail bat over his shoulder before glancing back at Eddie again. “So...did you ever actually apologize?”

Eddie’s jaw tightened. “…Not really.”

Robin looked horrified. “EDDIE.”

“What?” he defended instantly. “Things got heated!”

“She cried and dumped you, and you just let her walk away!” Robin whisper-yelled.

Eddie scrubbed both hands down his face in frustration. “I didn’t know what to say!”

Steve laughed dryly. “Well, there’s your first issue.”

“I figured if she wanted to talk to me, she would’ve.”

Robin stared at him for a long moment. “Men are genuinely stupid.”

Eddie ignored her. “She looked at me like she hated me.”

“Because she was hurt,” Robin shot back. “There’s a difference.”

Eddie went quiet at that, because deep down? He knew. Knew every sharp comment and glare from you over the last few months felt more like woundedness than hatred.

Steve slowed slightly, expression softening just a bit. “Dude.”

Eddie glanced over.

“When this is over…” Steve shrugged. “Just apologize.”

Robin pointed at him enthusiastically. “YES. Exactly. Thank you.”

“Like a real apology,” Steve continued. “Not one of your weird little jokes where you deflect halfway through.”

“I don’t do that.”

“You absolutely do that,” Robin replied.

Eddie opened his mouth to argue, but static suddenly exploded through Steve’s walkie. All three of them froze instantly. A burst of panicked breathing crackled through the speaker. Then:

“STEVE?!” Dustin, terrified.

Steve grabbed the walkie immediately. “Dustin? What happened?”

More static, heavy footsteps, and your voice somewhere in the background, shouting something muffled. Then Dustin again:

“There’s— Jesus Christ— there’s like FIVE OF THEM!” A deafening screech echoed through the radio.

Robin’s face went white instantly. “Oh, my God.”

“We’re headed east through the woods!” Dustin yelled breathlessly. “They’re right behind us!”

Steve already started moving. “Stay moving. We’re coming to you.”

The radio crackled violently. Then your voice cut through this time, sharp and panicked.

“Dustin RUN!”

Eddie’s stomach dropped instantly. A loud gunshot exploded through the walkie. Then another, then static.

Branches snapped violently beneath your boots as you and Dustin tore through the woods.

The Upside Down blurred around you in flashes of red lightning and black vines, spores whipping through the air every time you shoved past another rotting tree. Behind you, there was screeching.

“LEFT!” Dustin yelled breathlessly.

You grabbed the back of his jacket, yanking him sideways just as a Demodog launched from the trees where he’d been standing half a second before. It hit the ground hard with a wet snarl. You spun instantly:

BOOM!

The shotgun blast echoed through the forest, the flare shell exploding directly into the creature’s chest. Fire burst outward, orange flames illuminating the dark woods as the Demodog shrieked and convulsed on the ground.

“Holy shit!” Dustin yelled.

“No time!” you shouted back. “MOVE!”

The two of you sprinted again. Your lungs burned as another screech split the air, then another. Then three more answered.

Dustin looked back once and immediately paled. “Oh, that is SO many.”

Shapes darted through the fog behind you. Fast, crawling over trees and vines with horrifying speed. One leaped from the side, and you reacted instantly, grabbing Dustin by the shoulders and throwing him down as the creature flew over both your heads.

You hit the ground hard beside him. The Demodog spun immediately, flower-mouth peeling open with a shriek. Dustin scrambled backward, fumbling desperately inside his bag.

“SHIT! SHIT! SHIT—”

The creature lunged, and a Molotov cocktail smashed against its face, fire erupting instantly. The thing screamed horribly, thrashing against the dirt while Dustin stared wide-eyed at the flaming bottle in his hand.

“…That was awesome.”

“Dustin!”

“RIGHT. MOVING!”

You hauled him upright again just as another creature burst from the trees, then another, and another.

Your stomach dropped. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Because behind the Demodogs, towering above them in the fog…Demogorgons; at least two. Their massive silhouettes moved slowly through the trees, petals twitching open as they tracked the scent of blood soaking into the girls’ borrowed clothes.

“Okay,” Dustin said faintly. “I officially hate this plan.”

One of the Demodogs lunged. Boom. Another flare shell exploded through its jaw. The recoil nearly knocked your shoulder backward as you kept firing. One. Two. Three blasts. Fire illuminated snapping teeth and writhing vines while Dustin hurled another Molotov into the pack.

Glass shattered, and flames erupted across the forest floor. Still, more kept coming.

“Why are there SO MANY?!” Dustin yelled.

“I don’t know!”

A Demodog tackled you from the side before you could reload. You hit the ground hard enough to lose the shotgun entirely. The creature screeched directly in your face, claws slashing wildly as you shoved against its throat desperately, its teeth snapped inches from your face.

“GET OFF!”

You grabbed the knife from your belt and drove it upward into the creature’s neck. Black blood sprayed across your hands as the thing convulsed violently before collapsing on top of you. For one horrible second, you couldn’t breathe.

Then Dustin was there immediately, dragging the body off you. “COME ON!”

The trees ahead suddenly exploded with flashlight beams. Voices.

“THIS WAY!”

Steve. Robin. And then, your heart betrayed you instantly at the sound of his voice. He yelled for you, panicked and terrified; closer now. You turned toward the sound just as one of the Demogorgons burst through the trees.

“LOOK OUT!” Dustin screamed. You barely had time to move.

One massive claw swung forward, and white-hot pain exploded across your side. The force sent you flying backward violently into the dirt.

For a second, everything went silent. No sound. No air. Nothing.

Then warmth poured down your waist, and your hands instinctively grabbed at your sides. Blood, so much blood. Somewhere nearby, Dustin was screaming your name.

And across the clearing, Eddie stopped dead. Because you were on the ground, not moving.

“OH MY GOD—” Dustin’s voice cracked somewhere nearby as the others charged into the clearing.

Steve and Robin immediately started firing at the creatures still circling through the trees, gunshots and screeches echoing violently through the forest while flames spread across the ground from the broken Molotovs.

But Eddie? Eddie only saw you.

Blood soaked through your shirt in horrifying amounts, spilling between your fingers where you clutched desperately at your side. Your breathing came in sharp, uneven breaths against the dirt beneath you.

His stomach dropped so hard it physically hurt. “No no no no—”

He was beside you instantly, collapsing to his knees hard enough to draw blood. Your eyes fluttered toward him hazily, still conscious. Thank fucking God.

“Hey,” he breathed shakily. “Hey, stay with me, alright?”

You grimaced as another cough wracked through your body. Blood splattered across your chin, and Eddie visibly went pale.

“Jesus Christ,” Robin whispered somewhere behind him.

You sucked in a painful breath, immediately trying to push yourself upright. “I’m fine.”

Eddie stared at you in disbelief. “Are you insane?”

“I can still move.”

“You are literally coughing up blood!”

Another wet cough interrupted you immediately, like your body itself was trying to prove his point. You glared weakly at him afterward anyway.

“Don’t,” you rasped.

“Don’t what?”

“Look at me like that.”

Eddie’s face crumpled for half a second before he could stop it. Like that.

Like he was terrified, like seeing you hurt was physically ripping him apart from the inside out.

The sounds of fighting still echoed around the clearing. Steve yelling. Gunshots. Demogorgons screeching somewhere deeper in the woods.

But Eddie barely registered any of it as he pressed, shaking hands harder against the wound in your side. Blood immediately soaked through to his palms.

“You need pressure on this,” he said quickly, voice uneven. “Can you hold this?”

“I can walk.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“You got launched ten feet through the air!”

You tried to sit up again anyway, and immediately regretted it. Pain tore through your side hard enough that a broken sound escaped your throat before you could stop it.

Eddie caught you before you could fall back completely, one arm wrapping around your shoulders carefully.

“There she is,” he whispered shakily. “That’s the stubborn girl I know.”

You clenched your jaw hard, humiliated tears burning behind your eyes. Not now, you refused to cry right now.

“I’m not dying in front of you,” you muttered weakly.

Something about that sentence completely shattered whatever composure Eddie had left. His eyes went glossy instantly.

“Hey,” he said softly, almost pleading. “Hey, don’t talk like that.”

Another scream echoed through the woods. Steve suddenly appeared beside them, blood splattered across his bat. “We need to move. Now.”

“Can she walk?” Robin asked urgently.

You opened your mouth immediately. “Yes.”

“No,” Eddie answered at the exact same time.

“I said I can—”

The second you tried to move again, your entire body folded from the pain, and a horrible gasp tore from your chest. And Eddie finally snapped.

“Jesus Christ, would you stop trying to be tough for five seconds?!”

The clearing went quiet for a second, and even you looked startled. Eddie’s breathing shook violently as he stared down at you, terrified and furious and heartbroken all at once.

“Please.”

That one word hurt worse than the injury. Before you could argue again, Eddie slid one arm beneath your knees and the other around your back.

You instinctively grabbed onto his jacket as he lifted you carefully against his chest. Pain exploded through your side immediately, making you gasp sharply into his shoulder.

“I know,” he whispered quickly. “I know, sweetheart, I got you.”

Sweetheart, your eyes shut briefly at the nickname, because he hadn’t called you that in months.

Eddie adjusted his grip tighter around you before looking toward the others. “Move.”

Nancy’s house in the Upside Down looked even worse from the inside.

The wallpaper peeled in blackened strips from the walls, vines crawling through cracks in the ceiling while spores drifted lazily through the stale air. The entire place creaked softly around them as if it were breathing.

Steve slammed the front door shut behind them while Robin shoved an overturned bookshelf against it.

“Are they following us?” she asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know,” Steve answered. “I don’t hear them.”

Eddie barely registered the conversation. The second they got inside, he lowered you carefully onto the couch and immediately dropped to his knees in front of you again. Your blood stained almost everything now.

The couch. His hands. Your shirt. The floor beneath your boots. It just kept coming.

“Okay,” Robin said quickly, trying to stay calm. “Okay, okay. Nancy keeps medical supplies upstairs, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded immediately. “Bathroom closet.”

The two of them disappeared upstairs instantly. Dustin crouched nearby, frantic fingers fumbling with his walkie.

“Nancy? Jonathan? Come in!” Static answered him.

Your breathing hitched painfully again, and Eddie’s head snapped back toward you immediately.

“Stay with me,” he whispered.

You leaned weakly against the couch cushions, face pale beneath the layer of grime and blood smeared across your skin. Every breath looked harder than the last. Still, you forced out a weak, sarcastic smile.

“Pretty sure… this ruins the mission.”

Eddie let out something halfway between a laugh and a broken sound. “Yeah,” he choked out. “Yeah, sweetheart, kinda.”

Your eyes flicked toward the blood covering his hands, then back to him. He looked terrified, like absolutely terrified.

And it hit you suddenly that Eddie Munson looked like he was watching the worst thing that had ever happened to him unfold in real time.

“You can stop looking at me like I’m dying,” you muttered weakly.

The second the words left your mouth, Eddie’s face crumpled completely. “No,” he whispered instantly. Your chest ached at the sound.

Eddie pressed both shaking hands harder against the wound in your side, trying desperately to slow the bleeding.

“You can hate me later,” he said shakily. “Just don’t leave me first.”

Something in your expression broke, because he sounded serious. His eyes glistened under the dim flickering light, curls stuck damply against his forehead, while blood soaked through his rings and sleeves.

And suddenly, all you could think about was Dustin’s voice earlier.

"He always thought you were too good for him."

Your vision blurred slightly. “Eddie…”

“Don’t,” he interrupted immediately, voice cracking. “Please don’t do the thing where people start talking all soft because they think they’re dying, okay? I can’t—”

His breath hitched sharply. Then…Oh. Oh God. Eddie was crying.

Not loud or dramatic, just silent tears slipping down his face while he tried desperately to keep pressure against your side.

You weakly grabbed at his wrist. Instantly, his other hand wrapped around yours.

“I’m here,” he whispered quickly. “I’m here.”

Upstairs, cabinets slammed open while Robin shouted something about peroxide. Dustin was still trying the walkies. But for a second, the rest of the world faded out entirely. It was just Eddie, holding your hand like letting go would kill you.

Your thumb brushed weakly across his knuckles.

“I don’t hate you,” you admitted quietly.

Eddie froze. His watery eyes snapped up to yours so fast it almost hurt to look at. “What?”

You swallowed painfully. “I tried to,” you whispered. “But I don’t.”

Eddie stared at you like the words physically knocked the air from his lungs. Then suddenly, the house went strangely quiet.

Dustin slowly lowered the walkie. “…Wait.”

Steve reappeared at the top of the stairs with Robin right behind him, carrying supplies.

“What?” Robin asked.

Dustin frowned toward the windows. “Do you guys hear that?”

Everyone went still, and there was nothing. No screeching. No snarling. No pounding footsteps outside. The Demodogs were gone.

Steve moved cautiously toward the window, peeling back the curtain slightly. “…Holy shit.”

“What?” Eddie snapped immediately without taking his eyes off you.

Steve looked back slowly. “They stopped.”

Robin blinked. “Stopped what?”

“Following us.”

Everyone went quiet, then Dustin’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.”

Robin looked at him. “‘Oh shit’, what?”

Dustin pointed toward you carefully. “The blood.”

Eddie frowned slightly, and then realization hit all at once. The creatures weren’t tracking El’s scent anymore, not Max’s either. Your blood threw them back to tracking the real deal. 

“Oh, that is dark,” Robin muttered quietly.

Steve looked back out the window one more time before letting the curtain fall shut again. “Doesn’t matter. We still gotta move.”

Eddie’s head snapped up immediately. “She can’t move.”

As if on cue, another painful cough tore through your chest. Blood stained the corner of your mouth again, and Eddie visibly flinched.

Robin quickly knelt beside the couch with the medical supplies, hands moving fast as she peeled back the blood-soaked fabric around your side.

“…Oh.”

Steve’s face tightened instantly. “Bad?”

Robin looked a little pale now, too. “Very.”

You glanced downward weakly. Honestly, you kinda wished you hadn’t.

The slash across your side was deep, way deeper than you originally thought. Blackened blood smeared across torn skin while the edges of the wound pulsed faintly with Upside Down spores and grime.

Robin pressed fresh gauze against it carefully, and you hissed sharply through your teeth.

“Sorry,” she muttered quickly.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Eddie said immediately, everyone turning to look at him.

He was still kneeling in front of you, one hand locked tightly around yours like he physically couldn’t let go. And somehow he still looked angry at himself, like this was his fault too.

Steve crouched beside Dustin near the walkie.

“We need everyone back here. Now.”

Dustin nodded immediately, adjusting the frequency with shaky hands. “Nancy, Jonathan, Mike— anybody copy?”

Static crackled loudly, then Jonathan’s voice finally pushed through.

“Dustin?”

“Get back to Wheeler’s house now,” Steve ordered quickly. “We have a situation.”

“What happened?”

Steve hesitated briefly, but Eddie didn’t. “She’s hurt.”

Jonathan swore immediately. “How bad?”

Nobody answered fast enough, and that was answer enough. Dustin swallowed hard before grabbing the walkie again. “Guys, seriously, we need everyone here now.”

Robin kept trying to wrap the wound tighter, but every fresh layer of bandages turned red almost instantly. Steve’s expression shifted subtly from worried to straight-up scared.

“Hey,” he said carefully, crouching closer to you now. “Stay with us, okay?”

You let out a weak laugh. “Everybody keeps saying that.”

“Because you look like shit,” Robin replied automatically.

“Robin,” Steve hissed.

“What? I’m motivating her.”

Your eyelids suddenly felt heavy, and your head tipped slightly against the couch cushions.

Instantly, Eddie tightened his grip on your hand. “Hey.”

“I’m awake.”

“No sleeping.”

“I’m literally just resting my eyes.”

“Absolutely not.”

You would’ve laughed if breathing didn’t hurt so badly. Robin exchanged a quick glance with Steve. Then, he stood abruptly.

“We’re getting out of here.”

Eddie looked up sharply. “What?”

“She needs a hospital.”

“In the real world,” Robin added quickly. “Like yesterday.”

Steve nodded toward the ceiling. “Nearest gate’s at the trailer park. We move fast, we can make it.”

“And if the Demogorgons come back?” Dustin asked nervously.

Steve tightened his grip around the nail bat. “Then we fight.”

Eddie looked back down at you again. You looked exhausted now; blood loss had drained almost all the color from your face.

“Okay,” he whispered shakily. “Okay, we’re moving.”

Then softer, mostly to himself as he brushed blood-matted hair carefully from your face, “You’re not dying here.”

The trip back to the trailer park was brutal; every movement hurt. Every step Eddie took with you in his arms jolted painfully through your side, forcing weak gasps from your throat, no matter how hard you tried to hide them.

“You still with me?” he asked quietly after a while.

You hummed weakly against his shoulder.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“…Unfortunately.”

That earned the tiniest huff of laughter from him. Good. You liked hearing him laugh, even now.

Especially now.

The trailer park gates finally came into view ahead through the fog, and relief instantly loosened the group.

“We’re close,” Steve called quietly. “Gate’s right up—”

A screech exploded overhead, and everyone froze. Eddie’s entire body locked up beneath you instantly. Because he knew that sound, all too well. Demobats.

Robin looked upward first. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

The sky above them suddenly erupted with movement. Dark shapes poured through the red clouds in violent shrieking swarms. Dozens, maybe more.

“No, no, no,” Dustin whispered.

Eddie visibly went pale; you could feel it immediately. The way his arms tightened around you, the way his breathing changed to sharp, uneven, panicked. Because last time, these things nearly killed him.

“MOVE!” Steve shouted.

The swarm dove all at once, and chaos erupted instantly. Robin started firing upward while Steve swung the bat wildly at the creatures swooping down around them. Dustin hurled another Molotov skyward, flames bursting violently across the dark sky.

Still, more kept coming. One of the bats shrieked directly beside Eddie’s head. He ducked sharply, nearly dropping you. Another latched briefly onto his jacket, and suddenly he wasn’t here anymore, not fully.

Your stomach twisted painfully as you watched it happen in real time. The fear. The memory. His eyes looked exactly like they had that night in the Upside Down trailer. Terrified. Overwhelmed.

A bat swooped downward fast. 

“EDDIE!” you shouted weakly. Too late.

The creature slammed directly into him, and the impact knocked both of you sideways violently, causing you to slip from his grasp. Pain exploded through your body as you hit the ground hard, tumbling through ash and dead vines.

Your vision blurred immediately, and everything spun. For one horrible second, you almost blacked out. Then you heard Eddie release an agonizing scream. Your head snapped upward weakly.

The bats swarmed him instantly, exactly like before. Clawing. Shrieking. Dragging him toward the ground while Steve and Robin tried desperately to fight them off. And suddenly, you weren’t in the present Upside Down anymore. You were back there, watching Eddie nearly die.

Watching him bleed out while everyone screamed. Watching his body go limp in your arms. No, absolutely fucking not.

Adrenaline slammed through your body so violently it almost made you nauseous.

You forced yourself upward with a broken gasp, fingers scrambling desperately through the dirt until they found the shotgun lying nearby. Your side screamed in protest, but it didn’t matter. You cocked the gun shakily.

One of the bats wrapped around Eddie’s throat while another clawed at his back. His eyes met yours across the chaos, terrified. And that? That did it.

BOOM

The flare shell exploded directly into the swarm, and fire erupted violently across the sky. Shrieking filled the air as the Demo-bats ignited all at once, peeling away from Eddie in flaming screeches. Another shot, then another.

Explosions of orange fire illuminated the dark woods around you while burning creatures dropped from the sky one after another.

Steve grabbed Eddie immediately, hauling him backward. “MOVE MOVE MOVE!”

Robin ran toward you instantly. “Jesus Christ!”

Your arms finally gave out. The shotgun slipped from your fingers as the adrenaline vanished just as quickly as it came. Everything tilted sideways, and Eddie reached you before you hit the ground again.

His hands grabbed your face carefully. “Hey,” he breathed frantically. “Hey, hey, hey, look at me.”

Your vision blurred around the edges, but you still managed the weakest smile.

“Told you,” you whispered faintly. “Not letting you die.” Eddie looked absolutely wrecked by that sentence.

The first thing you noticed was the beeping, soft and steady. Then the smell of antiseptic hit next, clean hospital air replacing the rot and ash of the Upside Down.

Your body felt heavy and warm, and pain throbbed dully through your side the second you tried to move.

A small sound escaped your throat before you could stop it. Immediately, a chair scraped harshly beside you.

“Hey.”

Your eyes blinked open slowly. Hospital room. Dim lighting. And Eddie, kneeling beside your bed so fast it almost looked like he hadn’t moved in hours. Because honestly? He probably hadn’t.

His curls were a mess, dark circles bruised beneath his eyes, while dried scratches still marked his neck and jaw from the bats. One of his hands clutched yours tightly enough to hurt a little.

“Oh, thank God,” he breathed shakily.

Your throat felt raw. “You look terrible.”

A watery laugh escaped him instantly. “Thanks.”

You smiled weakly. Eddie immediately leaned forward in the chair, still gripping your hand like he thought you might disappear if he let go.

“You scared the absolute shit out of me,” he admitted quietly.

“How long was I out?”

“Day and a half.”

Your eyebrows lifted weakly. “Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

“Wow. Kinda dramatic of me.”

Eddie let out another broken laugh, but this one dissolved quickly. You glanced down at your intertwined hands, noticing how he still hadn’t let go.

“…You stayed?”

Eddie looked almost offended. “Obviously, I stayed.”

Something warm twisted painfully in your chest. You swallowed carefully. “The others okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded quickly. “Everyone’s okay. Couple scratches, Henderson won’t stop bragging about his Molotovs, Robin cried for like twenty minutes after you passed out—”

“Robin cried?”

“She threatened Steve when he laughed about it, too.”

That earned a small laugh out of you. God, he’d missed that sound.

Eddie stared at you for a second too long afterward, like he was making sure you were real, and alive.

His expression slowly crumbled again. “Listen,” he started quietly.

You already knew from his tone that this was gonna hurt. Eddie rubbed shakily at his eyes with his free hand before looking back at you.

“I am so sorry.”

Your chest tightened immediately.

“I should’ve told you about Chrissy,” he continued, voice uneven now. “I should’ve explained, and I should’ve come after you that night instead of letting you walk away.”

Tears burned visibly in his eyes again. “But honestly?” He laughed weakly at himself. “I think I was just waiting for you to realize you were too good for me.”

Your face softened instantly. “Eddie—”

“No, let me say it.” His voice cracked slightly. “Because I need you to know.”

His thumb brushed carefully across your knuckles.

“You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life,” he whispered shakily. “Like… stupid beautiful. And smart, and funny, and everybody loves you, and I just kept thinking eventually you’d wake up and realize you didn’t wanna be stuck with some freak in a trailer forever.”

Your eyes immediately stung.

“And then when you saw me with Chrissy…” He swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Part of me almost figured maybe this was it. Like maybe I finally ruined the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Silence filled the room softly. Then finally, “You idiot.”

Eddie blinked, and you squeezed his hand weakly. “I never cared about any of that.”

His face crumpled all over again. “I know that now,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry too.”

Eddie frowned immediately. “For what?”

“I should’ve listened.”

“No, sweetheart—”

“I was hurt,” you admitted softly. “But I think part of me already knew you didn’t cheat.”

Eddie’s eyes went glossy again instantly.

You sighed weakly. “You’re too obsessed with me to cheat on me.”

That startled a laugh out of him so suddenly he actually snorted. 

“Well, yeah,” he whispered again.

You smiled faintly. Then after a small pause, “So…” you murmured. “What now?”

Eddie looked at you carefully, like he was scared to answer wrong.

Then slowly, he brought your hand carefully to his lips and pressed the softest kiss against your knuckles.

“Whatever you want,” he whispered.

Your heart melted a little. “…I think,” you admitted quietly, “I’d like my boyfriend back.”

Eddie actually stopped breathing. “You mean that?”

You nodded once, and that was all it took.

Eddie surged forward carefully, terrified of hurting you, one hand cradling your face while he kissed you like he’d been dying to do it for months.

Soft at first, shaky. Then emotional enough that you felt tears hit your cheeks before realizing they were his. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered immediately. “Like, embarrassingly bad.”

You laughed softly. “I love you too, you idiot.”

Neither of you noticed the door cracking open. At least, not until:

“Oh, thank fucking God.”

You both startled apart immediately. Robin stood frozen in the doorway holding two vending machine coffees and an open bag of chips, staring at the two of you with pure exhausted relief on her face.

Behind her, Steve physically sagged against the doorframe.

“FINALLY,” he groaned dramatically. “Jesus Christ.”

Your face burned hot instantly while Eddie still hovered halfway over you, one hand on your waist. Robin pointed between the two of you accusingly. “Do you understand how insufferable you both have been?”

“Robin—” Eddie started.

“No. No, I’m serious.” She walked fully into the room now, setting the coffees down aggressively on the bedside table. “The sexual tension alone almost killed me before the interdimensional monsters even got the chance.”

Eddie groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “Can we have like… one emotional moment? Alone?”

“No,” Steve answered immediately.

Robin nodded. “Absolutely not.”

Then her expression softened slightly as she looked toward you lying in the hospital bed. “You scared the hell out of us, by the way.”

Your smile faded a little. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Steve said quickly, pushing off the doorway. “Just stop getting mauled by alternate dimension creatures. It’s becoming a weird habit in this group.”

“You first,” you shot back weakly.

Robin’s eyes flicked back and forth between you and Eddie again before narrowing suspiciously.

“So…” she dragged out slowly. “Are we all emotionally repaired now or what?”

Eddie looked toward you, and you smiled faintly before intertwining your fingers with his again.

Robin gasped dramatically. “OH, my GOD.”

Steve pointed immediately. “I knew it.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling now, actually...no. More like beaming at the fact that your fingers were laced with his. 

THE END :D

hope you all enjoyed! <33

taglist:

@bitterestwillow@kozume-ko @obsessed-eddie @doomdabss @julxsxx, @leelei1980@hexqueensupreme @ches-86 @plaidamoosette @bobiverses@meadows-of-asphodel @whitakerstorm @dreamerjj @sariahs-stuff @brrrainst3w @serendipdipity01 @hypersexytoptobottom @m-art000 @sisteramycatherine @walleloveseve @camsmunson101 @flavorfullstevepeachpuffs25 @abirdinthehouse @m-art000 @micheledawn1975 @whitakerstorm @cciessuzi @blackqueenie-18 @ggdawgg @velvetdimond

[urhoneycombwitch]

Omg it would be so cute to read the story of the roommates meeting for the first time and how they used to act around each other!

foreword: GREAT idea anon!! thank you!!

cw: the roommates (newly!), Reader has OCD, light SH behavior, Max is R’s cousin (no relation elaboration), Eddie is a FLIRT, origin story <3

the roommates mlist

wc: 1k

___

Your sneakers crunch against the parking lot asphalt of PJ’s Corner Store, pacing a tight line in front of your car. 

The new roommate is late. By nearly half an hour. 

Your cuticles are torn to shreds, at this point. Blood wells in the divot of your thumbnail as you peel another layer off with your teeth, cursing internally.

When Robin pitched her friend Eddie as a potential inhabitant of the second bedroom, you were skeptical. 

Your knowledge of the guy is based solely on the stories Steve has told- by all approximations, Eddie is more myth than human. 

Robin and Steve have both been cagey about Eddie’s current job, but have assured you that he makes enough to cover rent.

They have also assured you that Eddie is a good guy. The kind who cares about his friends, and won’t make shit weird in a shared space.

Your last roommate was a nightmare. Blasted weird music at all hours, left messes everywhere, never paid rent on time, and had very little regard for your standard of cleanliness. 

One morning, you’d watched in horror as she tucked into her leftovers from a steakhouse that had been sitting out on the counter- All. Night. 

So you’d decided: no more newspaper ad-sourcing for someone who was going to live in your space. At least not without some sort of verification process.

You pull your thumb from your mouth to check your watch again. 

Thirty-two minutes late and counting. 

The summer air is balmy this late in the evening; you take a deep, steadying breath, and remind yourself what you are getting to keep by accepting a new roommate.

A two-bedroom apartment. Downtown, ten minutes from work, prime location. Window above the sink. Perfect lighting. Counters you can scrub until they gleam-

There’s a thudding of speakers and a screech of tires as a large van pulls to a halt near your parking spot. The driver cuts the engine and hops out, a dozen paper napkins and two crushed soda cans scattering to the ground in his wake. 

“Shit.” 

He makes quick work of snatching at the dispersed trash, the frizzy halo of his dark hair bobbing animatedly as he scrambles and bends towards the pavement.

Eddie is wearing ripped jeans, a faded Iron Maiden t-shirt, and a wide grin as he approaches with one arm full of trash and the other extended towards you. 

“Hiya. You my new roomie?”

You do not take his proffered hand (with the sneaking suspicion that it would be rather sticky) and instead point with ill-concealed irritation at the napkin captured under the toe of your shoe. 

“Maybe, maybe not. Do you often make it a habit to show up thirty minutes late to appointments?”

The quick cut to the chase doesn’t dim Eddie’s sparkle in the slightest- in fact, it seems to egg him on.

Twin dimples smile up at you from where Eddie has dropped to one knee on the asphalt. His eyes are the color of burnt caramel, or maybe cocoa- dark and richly saturated. Impossible to look away from. 

“Ah, see-” Eddie tugs at the corner of the napkin and whips it out from under your sneaker with the flair of a magician’s tablecloth. “Stevie Boy told me to meet you at seven. So I think maybe we should blame him and start off on the right foot.”

He rises and gives you a wink. You really wish you found it half as charming.

“Fine.” Your arms cross, aiming to keep an unamused expression. “Where do you work?”

“All around town,” Eddie answers, then pivots to shove the trash into his backseat with much clanging about. His palms wipe down the front of his jeans as he comes to stand in front of you again. 

This time you catch a whiff of the cologne he’s wearing. It’s spiced and warm and reminiscent of autumn leaves. 

The evening sun is glinting off all his jewelry, spinning the light about his face as he raises his hands in a white-flag gesture. “Look, I’m an opportunist when it comes to jobs. I’ve got band gigs on weekends, I sell pot on the side- and if deviancy is a concern of yours, maybe this will help my case.”

Eddie presents to you a perfectly rolled joint in the palm of his left hand. 

He’s taking a big swing here, and lucky for him- good weed is hard to come by. 

The joint gets swiftly tucked into your front pocket as you nod- “Directness is the way to go, I think. The apartment’s great, I work at the bookstore on 3rd, and I’m kind of- I’m a bit-”

You’re floundering for the word. Eddie shakes his head-

“Nah, s’okay- Steve kind of gave me the low-down on you already. He mentioned you were a bit-”

“Uptight?”

“-intense.” Eddie raises a dark brow. “But stellar. Like me.”

You shift under the compliment, and Eddie continues.

“I’ll be good for the money every month, and I promise not to be an asshole about my volume when you’re trying to sleep.” He shrugs, dimples springing to life again. “I think I might be your finest prospect, sweetheart.”

“All right.” Your tone is a warning. It’s to mask the butterflies that are swarming low at the nickname- dangerous territory. “You seem mostly normal, or at least like you’re not gonna get me axe murdered. Or something. You wanna see the place tonight?”

Eddie nods enthusiastically, and you turn on a heel to start for the sidewalk. He trots to keep up, falling into step with you as he comments, “Killer shirt. Kate Bush rocks.”

“Oh- thanks.” You glance down at the printed Hounds of Love cover and smile at the memory that surfaces. “My little cousin is obsessed with her. I took us both to the record store at four in the fucking morning to get them on release day- we were first in line.”

Eddie hears the pride in your voice and laughs, delighted. “Shit, you got it all figured out, huh? I bet you have a wicked record collection, too- we’ll have to join forces once I move in.”

You give him a quick sideways look even as hope blooms- “Hey, you haven’t even seen the place yet.”

All Eddie does is smile. “I think it’ll suit me just fine.”

[gem-writes]

On-Screen Lover

Pairing: P*rnstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: New to the industry, you become paired with one of p*rn’s biggest names; Eddie “The Freak” Munson. Used to doing solo work, you can’t help but feel a little intimidated and a lot nervous. That is, until Eddie teaches you that maybe there isn’t all that much to be scared about.

Content Warning: 18+ smut, porn, porn-industry talk/mentions, pornstar!Eddie x pornstar!reader, sex work, allusion to sex, dirty talk, she/her pronouns, masturbation (m & f), use of sex toys, swearing/profanity, mentions of oral sex, actual oral sex (m & f receiving), swallowing, cum-play, handjob, digital penetration (fingering), light spanking, overstimulation, voyeurism, sex while being filmed, rough oral/face fucking, face riding, face smothering, spitting/sloppy oral sex (both m & f receiving), softdom!Eddie, mutual pining. Eddie is down bad for reader. Eddie solidifies the rumors that he's a total munch.

────────

He was supposed to be off on Sundays- practically unreachable. It was a clause in his final contract that he signed almost 11 months ago. He had Sundays off with no disruptions. No calls, no emails, no meetings- and absolutely no work. So, when his phone rang through the quiet confines of his loft-style apartment, he groaned out in frustration.

Leave me the fuck alone, Paul…

He thought, slumping further into his couch as he slung his forearm over his eyes. He had nothing on his agenda besides a well-needed nap and some light D&D manual reading. He didn’t even plan on leaving his apartment. Just that.

So, when his phone stopping ringing, Eddie let out a sigh of relief- trying to doze off again before it started ringing again. Not even a five minute pause between the last call.

Whatever he wants, he can leave a goddamn message like everyone else.

He would get to it on Monday. Maybe. If he was lucky.

But no.

On the third attempted call, Eddie jumps off the couch with a groan- stomping over to his wall phone before picking it up.

“Munson.” He murmurs gruffly as he leans against the wall impatiently.

“Eds! Jesus Christ, kid! Pick up your damn phone when I call.”

“What do you want, Paul?” Eddie drones, already wanting to be off the phone as fast as he picked it up.

“Look, kid, I know you said no Sundays but-“

“Nuh-uh.” Eddie cuts him off “No. You know the rules. The only thing I asked for when we renewed my contract was that I get to be unreachable on Sundays. This-“ Eddie gestures to the phone in his hand even though he knew his manager couldn’t see him. It was all for emphasis, really.

“This is not unreachable.” He finishes “It can wait until Monday.”

“Look, kiddo, I know what you said but I don’t think this can wait.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll have to wait. I’ll call you back tomorrow.”

“Do not hang up on me, Munson! I know you’ve only got a month left of this but at least respect me enough to hear me out when I speak to you.”

“Fine,” Eddie sighs, rubbing his temple in exasperation “What do you want?”

“I’ve got a gig for you. Trust me, kid, you’re gonna love it.”

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Y’know, Paul, I feel like I’ve heard you say that before.” He points out.

“Nah, kid. I mean it. I’ve got something you’re gonna love. Meet me in my office in an hour.”

“What!?” Eddie exclaims “Hold on! Wait-“

But before Eddie could argue, his manager had already hung up- leaving the other end dead as he stood there in disbelief.

That fucking bastard.

────────

To say that the porn industry had made him jaded would be an understatement.

After three grueling years, a lot of fucking, faking it, and getting off enough women to start a Jim Jones-style cult- Eddie had had enough. He was retiring. For good.

The announcement to the porn industry had been a shock to everyone. Eddie “The Freak” Munson; the sex-industry’s “Prince of Porn” (Or “The Prince of Pussy” as some called him, for some odd reason) was leaving behind his legacy as the ladies’ favorite male pornstar. No one has seen anything like it. It was practically unfathomable that someone of his caliber- someone who jackhammered his way into the hearts of millions- was walking away.

To almost every man in America, Eddie “The Freak” Munson was living their dream. Eddie, however, was bored, tired, and lonely. It was fun while it lasted but he was ready to move on. You could only fuck so many blondes with huge tits and daddy kinks until it got completely played out and repetitive. It also didn’t help that, outside of filming, he wasn’t even interested in sex.

True be told, sex had become the last thing on his mind. Not that he couldn’t fuck anyone he wanted. Hell, he was sure there would be a line halfway to Europe if he did. He just didn’t see the point. It was like eating the same meal everyday for the rest of your life. You get tired of it pretty damn quick. What was the point of sex without the emotional connection? The passion? The lust? It was just a waste of time and energy.

Eddie rolled into his manager’s office an hour and a half later, taking his sweet time as he parked his van at the studio. He walks past the receptionists, sending a wink their way as he walked through to Paul’s private office suite. There have been many occasions when he overheard the girls at the front-desk fawning over him after he had just wrapped up a scene with some “up and coming” star that was completely underwhelming.

Sometimes he even thought about taking home one of the receptionists and dicking them down just to see if he felt something. That he wasn’t completely numb to getting someone else’s rocks off. But Paul would surely have his ass if he found out. Sometimes Eddie wondered why he even cared.

“Where the hell have you been?” Paul exclaims, turning towards Eddie once he walks through the door “I was just in the middle of calling you.”

Paul puts the phone down as he watches Eddie plop down into one of the chairs on the other side of his desk.

“Yeah, well, I’m here now. What are your other two wishes.” Eddie deadpans.

“You’re lucky that production pushed back today’s shoot by another hour otherwise you would’ve missed out on what the hell I even called you in for.” Paul chastises, earning an eye-roll from his client.

“Which is?” Eddie points out “You had me race across town in traffic and you haven’t even told me that the hell for. Let’s get on with it. What’s this gig you’re so obsessed about?”

“I found a girl for you.” Paul announces excitedly as if he were a matchmaker and not a manager for sex workers.

“….Okay.” Eddie replies slowly “That’s it?”

“Would you lighten up?” Paul replies incredulously “I’m getting there, okay? Just give me a minute to, you know, set the scene.”

“Paul, I don’t pay you 10% for you to ‘set the scene’ and waste my time. Let’s pick a lane here, and stick to it.” Eddie states, not mincing words. One thing he learned fast during his first year in the industry was that mincing words was what got you used up and stomped on.

“Alright. So, I found this girl. Her manager came to me. Her company is putting together a flick. Oral Fixation 5 or some shit like that. Anyway, they’re looking for a male costar for her. They want someone good. It’s the girl’s first time with a partner. She mainly does solo work. She’s a bit skittish but cute. Different than the type of girls you usually work with.”

“So, you want me to fuck an amateur?” Eddie asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, no. Not an amateur. She’s been on film before.”

“Has she fucked anyone on film before?” Eddie challenges, eyeing his manager judgmentally. Leave it to Paul to call him in on his day off to ask him to fuck some newbie that probably has no idea what she’s doing.

“See, that’s the thing, you wouldn’t be fucking her.” Paul explains.

“Then what would I be doing? Feeding her bon-bons?” Eddie asks.

“Like I said, it’s an oral flick. No fucking. Very simple stuff. She basically does most of the work herself. She’ll start off solo, get herself nice and ready, you come in and eat her out, make her come, she’ll suck you off, let you come on her face and voila! Done! You’ll be out of here by noon tomorrow. So, whaddya say?”

“….What does she look like?” Eddie asks, leaning forward in his seat. He would be lying if he said his interest wasn’t piqued. No actual fucking? Just some light oral work, a blowjob, and then done? Didn’t seem that bad.

“That’s why I wanted you to come in!” Paul explains “She’s here. In Studio B shooting some stuff for Hot & Horny. You can head over, give her a good look, see what she can do, and then we can book it if she makes the cut. Maybe if she’s up to your standards, we can use her for your big flick. But you have to decide today before someone else snags her. She’s cute, kid. A real looker. I don’t see her staying small for very long.”

“Really?” Eddie asks, rubbing his chin in thought.

“Really.” Paul assures him “What’re you thinkin’?”

“Alright.” Eddie sighs, standing up from his chair “Let me see her.”

────────

When he walks into Studio B, Eddie is expecting to find another cookie-cutter run of the mill porn girl. Big fake silicone tits, lip injections, and an overly-enthusiastic fake orgasm. Bonus points for bleach blonde hair. What he didn’t expect to find was you- the complete antithesis of all of the other girls he’s used to. You were a breath of fresh air.

You stood off to the side of your set- a cute little bedroom set up complete with frilly pink floral sheets, heart shaped pillows, and cute little teddy bears. Boy band posters were taped onto the fake set walls to mimic the feel of a girl’s bedroom. College student, girl-next-door. Young, hot, and sexy- and, boy, Eddie was into it. He was so fucking into it.

Production staff began setting up the scene, placing several different adult toys onto the rose-printed lacy duvet. A smorgasbord of pleasure instruments. Eddie was no stranger to solo girls scenes. He’s gotten off to many of them. But this one was different. He was sucked in- intrigued.

You were standing in a silky robe, covering up whatever production has asked you to wear. All Eddie could get a glimpse of was the thigh high white stockings with lace trim that adorned your long, sexy legs. No heels. Interesting.

You were talking to a set manager, batting your long mascara-ed eyelashes as your pink, kissable lips spread into a sweet smile. The set guy said something that got you to laugh, your head tilting back as you let out an adorable sexy laugh- your hair draping down like a luscious waterfall.

Fuck, you were hot. So, so hot.

“Told you she was a looker.” Paul chimes in as he sidles up beside Eddie- too distracted to notice that he was even in the vicinity “What are your thoughts so far?”

Eddie didn’t want to reveal his hand just yet. He didn’t want to seem too eager.

“Let me sit in for this one. I wanna see what she does.” He replies slowly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Before he knows it, the director calls you over- motioning for you to enter your set and get yourself situated on the cutesy pink bed.

Alright, Eddie thought, Show-time.

Before the cameras begin to roll, you gingerly untie the silk sash of your rope- taking it off to reveal your lingerie ensemble before handing it off to a set manager. Eddie’s mouth immediately went dry.

There you were in all of your glory, decorated head-to-toe in a baby pink lacy lingerie set that Eddie wanted to unwrap- desperately. You wore a bra that was practically see-through, your perfect tits hardly covered by the lace that adorned them. Through the fabric, he could spot your perky nipples- his mouth beginning to water at the thought of rolling his tongue around them- his hands full of your gorgeous breasts.

You wore a pair of lacy matching panties. Your beautiful cunt barely hidden beneath the fabric. Covered up just enough to leave him wanting more. Teasing him. You were a vision. You sat primly on the bed, your legs tucked to the side- like a proper lady- as you waited for your cue to start. Eddie began to move closer- not wanting to miss this.

He sidled up to the small herd of production members, standing firmly as a few of them greeted him with a nod. They were probably wondering what the hell he was doing there. He normally didn’t sit in to watch scenes. He was more known to shoot his own shit, get dressed, and leave as soon as possible. Yet, here he was, metaphorically sitting on the edge of his seat as he waited for you to start.

As if by the grace of god, the set director calls action- signaling to you that the camera was rolling. There wasn’t even a hint of intimidation as you started off slow and tantalizing. You place your fingers over your lips, blowing your signature kiss to the camera. Those lips. Those pouty, pink lips. Eddie hadn’t seen anything yet and he was already hooked- those soft kissable lips drawing him in. Soft lips that he wanted wrapped around his cock.

Continuing on with your tease, you trail up your body with your cute little hands, reaching up to your chest- gently massaging your tits through your lacy pink bra. The movement was slow and sensual, your hands kneading your perfect breasts- pushing them together seductively as you began to look straight into the lens of the camera.

Okay, Eddie thought, this was definitely not your first time doing this sort of thing.

He could tell, immediately- his eyes taking in the way that you were confident and deliberate with your touches. The way that your hands trailed up and down your body- grabbing, kneading, and tracing your irresistible curves. You were comfortable. In your element. Eddie could tell right away that, when it came to getting yourself off, you were definitely no amateur. He had barely even seen anything yet and he knew- and all he wanted was to see it in real time.

You reach up to hook your thumbs into your bra straps, sliding them off your shoulders as you bit your lip- batting those pretty eyelashes at the camera lens. Reaching behind you, you began to unclasp your bra- sliding it off agonizingly slow. Eddie’s breath hitches as his eyes lock onto your bare tits- nipples hard and perky as you playfully toss the discarded bra onto the floor beside the set bed.

Eddie couldn’t help but smirk, loving the way that you teased the camera- staring it down as if it were the viewers at home. The sad, unfortunate losers that weren’t anywhere near as lucky as he was to see it in person- to even be offered the opportunity to get on his knees to please you.

You kneel onto the bed, giving the camera a good view of your lower half- your lace panties and stockings still on. Those fucking stockings. Eddie could feel the blood circulating to his dick, causing him to grow hard against the zipper of his jeans. You had barely even done anything but play with your tits and he was already starting to leak precum.

These days, it took a lot for Eddie to physically react to things. Being overly-exposed to sex in this industry tends to do that to you. So, the sheer notion that he was getting hard and horny for you when all he had seen so far were your breasts was pretty damn close to miraculous. You were barely even into your scene and he was sure that he’d have to use one of the private dressing rooms to rub one out afterwards.

You ran your hands down your stomach, staring down the camera as you caressed lower and lower down your body until you reached the waistband of your panties, biting your lip as you plunged your right hand into the fabric. Eddie had to stop himself from groaning at the sight. He had seen plenty of women touch themselves- he was a pornstar, for fuck sake- but the way that you did it was hypnotizing. His eyes become glued to your clothed core as he focuses on the way that your fingers moved and teased yourself behind the thin fabric.

So fucking hot. So goddamn sexy.

He wanted to see more- needed to see more.

Your nimble little fingers teased your clit, working behind the thin fabric of your panties as you threw your head back in pleasure- your hair cascading down as your free hand reached up to one of your breasts. You pinched the nipple between your fingers, letting out a light little moan that had Eddie’s dick stirring beneath his boxers.

Fuck, that’s hot. Eddie thought. Keep going, baby. Show me how you do it.

As if you could read his mind from across the room, your eyes open- flickering over to him as you inch your hand further down into your panties. You insert a digit inside of your pussy, causing yourself to gasp as the sensation.

Shit.

Eddie watches your knuckles work their way inside of your cunt as he strains himself to get even just a glimpse past what’s behind those pretty lace panties. He could bet that they were fucking sopping wet by the way that your muscles didn’t tense or stutter when you inserted another finger. You probably slid it in with complete ease. Like it was nothing- and that was so incredibly hot.

It went on like this for a while. Eddie staring at your lower half as you toyed with yourself from behind the panties. Just when he thought he was on the brink of getting blue balls, you slowly slipped your fingers out of your panties- the production lights on the studio set picking up the way that your digital glistened with your arousal. It was a fucking sight. Such a sight that Eddie didn’t even think about you upping the ante- taking your drenched fingers and sliding them into your mouth, wrapping your lips around them as you sucked them clean.

Holy..fuck.

Suddenly, the director called cut- the sound of his orders causing Eddie to snap his head over in horror.

Cut? No. No, no, no, no, no! You were just getting started! What the fuck?!

“Alright, babe, second act. Lose the panties and get into position. Legs spread, okay?” The director calls out, causing Eddie to sigh in relief. You weren’t wrapping yet.

Thank god!

You nod at the director, hopping off the bed as you begin to take your panties off, sliding them down your legs. Where Eddie was standing off-set, he had the perfect view as you bent over further and further to push your underwear off. You were bend over so low that he had a full fucking view of your glistening wet pussy, and he was right- you were sopping. It took all of the fucking strength and self-control he had to not stomp onto that set, pull down his jeans to free his raging hard cock and jam it into your fucking cunt. God, he’s never wanted to fuck someone so badly in his life. He wanted to tell production to fuck your solo scene so that he could start fucking you.

You straighten up, now standing as you kicked off the panties- leaving you completely nude aside from the white thigh-high stockings. You climb back onto the bed, perched near the edge as you opened your legs- sitting spread eagle in front of the camera. Eddie was fully convinced that he was about to pass out.

That perfect little pussy. It was wet, pink, and tight. The prettiest he’s ever seen and he’s seen a lot during his career. Yours was the first to make him go weak in the knees, wanting to sink down in front of you at the edge of the bed as he spread you open and devoured you- acting as if you would be his last meal.

Production came rushing in to fix your hair, smoothing away any imperfections before running off set- gearing up for your cue. You waited patiently like a good, good girl. Hands to yourself as you awaited permission to continue and, if it were up to Eddie, he would reward you. For being so good. So patient.

The director begins rolling, cuing you in to start and Eddie was hooked and ready to see what you would do next- spread out in front of him. Your eyes catch the camera, your hands roaming down to your core as you begin to play with your clit- now uncovered. No barriers in-between. Thank god.

Your middle finger does all of the work, slowly circling your sensitive little button as you throw your head back again, letting the sensation take over you. Letting your hands freely pleasure yourself as if no one were watching- as if it really were you in your bedroom alone. That, Eddie decided, was what made it so hot. You weren't putting on a performance for anyone. There was no theatrics, no drama- no over the top acting. It was you. Just as you were. Enjoying every little bit of it- and, goddamn, was it sexy.

You let out soft little moans and gasps that went straight to Eddie’s dick, twitching in his pants at the way that you sounded. You sounded sweet- melodic. Music to his ears as your breathing picked up. He stared as you moved your fingers from your clit and down through your folds, wet and glistening as you spread your arousal all over your sex. You were drenched. In all of his life, Eddie never even thought about wanting to be an appendage, but holy shit was he jealous of your fingers.

You use one of your hands to spread yourself open for the camera, causing Eddie’s eyes to almost roll into the back of his head. He was seeing so much of you and he hadn’t even met you yet. But he couldn’t help but watch. He couldn’t look away.

You sink the middle finger of your other hand into your pussy, pushing it in until you reach your knuckle- so fucking deep with that little finger of yours. Eddie couldn’t help but want to take over, wanting to use his much bigger digits to fill you up just how you deserved.

Eddie watched as you slip another finger in, framing your soaked core with your pointer and pinky finger. The way that you touched yourself was hypnotic, putting him in a trance as you ramped yourself up closer and closer to your orgasm. Your moans grew louder, breathing heavier and more needy. Because there was something you needed- Him. Or maybe that’s delusional of him to think. But he knew that he needed you. He was hungry for you and he wanted a taste.

You begin fingering yourself, expertly delving your fingers into your pussy as you fucked yourself with your digits just the way that you liked. Eddie studies this, watching the way that you liked it- wanting to replicate it. No, he wanted to do it better. So fucking good that you couldn't even fathom the idea of anyone touching you but him. He was so drunk on your pussy and he hadn't even so much as touched it yet. He was fucked.

"Alright, angel." The director calls out, catching Eddie's attention for a moment "How about we get some footage of you with one of the toys? Get a really good build-up, climax, we'll do a closeup of the aftermath, and then we're done. Sound good?"

Toys? Eddie forgot about the toys. He was so fucked. He probably shouldn't watch this, knowing that he could very well finish in his pants- but he didn't care. He was rooted to the spot. Too addicted to move. He was drunk on you and your sexy body and your perfect pussy. He needed this. He needed to see you come undone. He needed something to think about tonight as he jacked himself off so hard that he would probably chafe. He'd have to use lube. His own spit wouldn't cut it. There's no way that he could rub himself raw when he knew that he was going to be lucky enough to be in your mouth the next day. Sucked off by those pouty pink lips.

His own thoughts and the view of you naked on that bed, toying with yourself, was becoming overstimulating. It was like an outer-body experience to watch. Even though he didn't feel like he was in his own body, he knew that there was nothing he wanted more than to be inside of yours.

His eyes are glued to the scene as you daintily reach for the toy of your choice. A purple Jack Rabbit style vibrator. You click it on, watching as the toy came to life in your hands. Eddie couldn't help but think about how much bigger he was than that stupid toy. How he would be able to reach places inside of you that the vibrator couldn't even come close to reaching. Places that you probably didn't even know existed. You deserved to be fucked like a queen. Not by some inadequate toy. Even still, he watched as you pressed the tip of the toy to your clit- causing you to gasp loudly in reaction.

Fuck, Eddie thought as he watched you slide the tip of the toy past your clit and through your folds- marveling at the way that your body shivered in reaction. The way that your body responded to pleasure was oh so delicious. Eddie was eating it up like he was starving.

He watches as the toy collects a thick coating of your arousal, making it so wet that Eddie had to bite his lip to keep from moaning.

Fuck, you were so wet.

You slide the toy back up towards your clit, pressing the tip against it harshly as your eyes fluttered shut- causing you to buck your hips.

So fucking sensitive.

You swirl the toy against your clit as you breath catches, followed by a soft moan that escaped those pretty lips.

Fuck, baby, let me hear you.

As if you could hear his thoughts, you let out a needy whine. You needed more. It wasn't enough. Not even close.

Before he could process it, you had begun to insert the toy into your pussy- falling back onto the mattress underneath you as you started to thrust it inside. Flicking your wrist with a motion that had you whimpering desperately. The vibration inside of your cunt causing your walls to contract around the vibrator- making it a tight squeeze to continue thrusting.

Eddie's eyes were wide as he watched. The sounds of your moans, the faint buzzing of the vibrator, and the wet squelching sound of your pussy completely overtaking him. Fuck, this was hot. The most erotic thing he's ever fucking seen.

You continue fucking yourself with it, picking up the pace as you sit yourself up enough to watch you fuck yourself with it.

Shit, yes! Bet you like to watch yourself get fucked, don't you?

You mouth falls open as you watch how slickly coated the toy was as you pushed it in and out of your pussy. Eddie was jealous that it wasn't his dick covered in your arousal, making it so easy for him to slide in and out of your cunt at an ungodly pace. He wanted it so fucking bad that his knees were weak.

Without warning, you finally find that spot. That perfect spot deep within you that had you going crazy. Toes curling, gasping for air, moaning out like crazy as you squeezed your eyes shut. You were close.

Fuck, baby! Just like that! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You pushed that pathetic little toy as deep as it could go, your mouth falling into a perfect little 'O' as you got closer and closer and closer.

Show me how you like it, baby. That's right. So fucking good!

Soon you couldn't control yourself, bucking your hips as you thrusted it in and out of hole as your moans became more loud and desperate.

Fuck, sweetheart, doing so good. You're almost there. Need to watch you cum.

You began to reach your peak, practically sobbing as you kept working for it.

C'mon, baby. Give it to me. Let me see it.

And as if on cue with his dirty thoughts, you cry out in pleasure. Finally peaking as your thighs began to shake, whimpering as you came all over that stupid toy- your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave.

Fuck, yes! That's it! Fuck, you are so fucking hot! Jesus fucking Christ!

You rode out your orgasm, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. It was so fucking hot. Eddie didn't know how he had gone this long in his career without fucking you. Without knowing you existed. A perfect little sex kitten that he wanted to play with. Hell, you alone were giving him second thoughts about retiring. Not before he could fuck you in every possible way imaginable. Fuck, he was so fucking into you that he could surely invent new ways to fuck you that had never even been thought of before. He'd have to create a whole new updated version of the Kama Sutra with you as his sole muse.

"That's a wrap! You did great!"

The director praises you as you slowly begin to sit up on the bed, hair wild with a blissed-out look on your face. Eddie had never seen someone look so beautiful post-orgasm.

A member of the production crew came over to you and handed you your silk robe. You stand up with shaky legs as they helped you put it on- making yourself modest after that fucking smoke-show that you had just given everybody. Eddie didn't know how no one else was crashing down like he was. He was leaking so much precum that he would probably need new pants. But it was worth it because you were...wow.

"See? I told you." Eddie whips his head over to catch his manager standing there next to him. Had he been there the whole time? Had Eddie been talking out loud? "What do you think, kid?"

Eddie's mouth was dry. He felt dehydrated from just watching. He felt like he needed to down a gallon of water after watching you get yourself off like a fucking professional. With an intensity that he's never fucking seen before.

"Is she still available?" Eddie croaks, his heart hammering in his chest. What if another guy had swooped in and booked the gig right under his nose while he was too busy ogling at you?

"I could give her manager a call and see if it's still open. I know they reached out to a few guys. That Chris Infamous guy being one of them. The jacked up one with the muscles. You know who I'm talking about."

Chris Infamous? Over his dead fucking body!

“Paul, go call her manager right now and tell them I’m in. Like, now.”

────────

The whole way home, he had been antsy. He had waited an hour after your shoot in his manager’s office as he called up your manager in an attempt to get in touch with them. There was no luck. Paul had missed them every single time- and Eddie made him leave a voicemail every…single…time. He couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his hands.

Eddie tried to busy himself with his previous plans that he had before leaving his loft earlier that day but he just couldn’t focus. The words in his Dungeons and Dragons player manual just blended together and his mind would wander off, causing him to read the same sentence over and over again.

He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. Your soft, supple body wrapped up in that pink lingerie. Those goddamn white stockings that you had kept on the entire shoot. The way your pussy glistened with your arousal underneath the production lights. Eddie was addicted- transfixed. He needed to do this scene with you.

He throws down his player’s manual, tossing his head back onto the couch. He stares up at the ceiling as he lets out a frustrated grunt. Waiting back for a response was torture. He just needed a yes or a no- hopefully a yes. God, he was hoping for a yes. But if the gig was taken, he wished he would know sooner rather than later in order to kill the anticipation.

He reaches onto the coffee table for his pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and placing it between his lips before lighting it. He took a couple of drags, the taste of nicotine barely doing anything to calm his nerves. He was so pent up. He had been ever since your scene. He was hot and bothered.

His mind drifts back to thoughts of you. Your perfect tits that would fit perfectly in his hands. Your perky nipples that he wanted to roll his tongue against, tasting them. But he mostly thought about your sex. What you would taste like. He imagined that you would be sweet- candy-coated beneath his tongue as he ate you up. Liquified sugar in the best way.

Eddie could feel his cock twitch beneath his pants as he fantasized- wanting to bury his head between your soft thighs as he worked his tongue against you so ferociously like it would be the last thing he’d ever do. He’d never wanted someone as bad as he wanted you- wishing that he could toy with your sensitive little button with the tip of his tongue. Teasing you until you begged for more.

Eddie began to unbutton his pants, feeling the ache in his cock that was dying to be satiated. He needed a release. His head was so full of you that he needed to do something to quell the heat that he felt in his groin. He needed to cum.

He pulls down his zipper, feeling a sense of relief as the pressure of the metal enclosure against his hard cock was finally removed. It was like releasing a long, pent-up sigh. He was painfully hard. Practically throbbing underneath his boxers as he slides his hand down past the fabric, gripping himself as he attempts to pull his dick out. He winces at the sensitivity he felt on his cock head.

When he pulls his dick free from his jeans, he looks down to find that his tip was nearly red, angry at the lack of attention that it was receiving. It had been a long time since Eddie had touched himself. He normally didn’t have to with the kind of work that he did. But this was different, he needed this. He needed relief.

He wraps his hand around his length, slowly moving it up and down the way that he liked but his member felt nearly hot to the touch. He was so worked up that it had made him ultra-sensitive to every little thing. Every stroke, every little flick of his wrist. He could feel everything with ten times more intensity than normal. And, god, he didn’t want this. He didn’t want to jack himself off to completion on his living room couch. No, he wanted to sink his desperately hard cock into the velvety soft walls of your incredible cunt.

A pearl of precum leaks out of his tip, slowly dripping down until he collects it with his finger-swiping it up to use as lubricant and he began to buck his hips into his hand. It shouldn’t be his hand. It should be you. He didn’t want to settle for anything that wasn’t you. But he’d have to until he hopefully got the real thing.

“Ah! F-fuck!” He gasps as he picks up a faster pace, wanting to reach his peak as quickly as possible. He was desperate for it. He was needy and fucked out by the images of you that kept playing out in his head.

You on the bed with your legs spread wide open for him, ready to take whatever it was that he was willing to give you like the good girl you would be. Like the good girl he just knew that you were. He stroked himself fast and hard as he thought about how he’d want you to take his cock. He wanted your legs slung over his shoulders as he pounded into you hard enough to have you sobbing. He wanted to wrap his hand around your throat and jerk you back onto his cock as he fucked you from behind. He wanted to fuck you like a whore. Like you were made for it.

“Fuck, baby…” Eddie whimpers, more precum oozing from his tip as he imagined that it was your hand instead of his. Stroking him with those soft little hands of yours as you stared him down with those gorgeous eyes. Marveling at just how crazy you could drive him- at just how badly he wanted you.

“Shit….just like that, sweetheart. Fuck.”

Eddie could feel himself getting close, his breathing picking up faster and faster until they became needy grunts- trying to chase his high.

“Shit, shit, holy fuck…”

He kept stroking and he wouldn’t stop until he got there. Not when all he could think about was just how hot you looked when you orgasm. When all he wanted was to fuck you so good that you had to beg him to stop. How he wanted to make you cum on his cock over and over again until you couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to take you apart just to put you back together again.

Just when he was ramping up to his finish, a few seconds away from blowing his load into his hand, the phone rings- snatching him right out of his fantasies.

Fuck. No!

He growls in frustration, jumping off the couch as he stumbles towards the phone- barely stuffing his angry cock back into the confines of his jeans. A denim-clad prison.

“What?” He huffs as he picks up the phone, his breathing still heavy and ragged from touching himself.

“Eddie, listen, I got in touch with her management.”

“Fuck!” He sighs in relief, resting his back against the wall. “What’d they say?”

“They were pretty psyched that you wanted in, kid. Turns out you were first choice for them. Which is great because they were an inch away from giving the gig to Chris. Good thing I called when I did. Anyway, you got the gig. They’re excited. The girl’s excited.”

You were excited? Wait…You knew who he was?

“Wait, she knows who I am?” Eddie stammers, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“Oh yeah.” Paul laughs “Apparently she’s a huge fan.”

“Fuuuck. No shit?” He asks, trying to fight the grin on his face. He felt on-top-of the-world fucking incredible.

“Have you ever known me to pull your leg, kid? She asked for you specifically. By name. Lucky you, playboy!”

Yeah, Eddie thought. No fucking kidding!

“She asked…for me?” He still couldn’t believe it. You were out-of-this-world gorgeous and you wanted him to be your first on-screen partner? Eddie hadn’t experienced an ego-boost this big since…well, ever.

“Yeah, kid. First on her list. She was worried we wouldn’t accept what her management was offering but I told her we’d make it work.”

Fuck, he would do it for free.

Wait…

“You spoke to her?” Eddie asks, jaw practically hitting the floor.

“Oh yeah,” Paul replied “She personally returned my calls. Wanted to thank us for accepting.”

“No fucking way.” Eddie swoons. It just kept getting better.

“She also wanted me to tell you that she hoped you were impressed at the shoot today. She said she was a little nervous when she saw you but hopefully you didn’t notice.”

You...naughty…little…minx. You had known that he was there the entire time? Fuck….

“Anyway, call time for tomorrow is eight a.m.” Paul adds “And Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t fucking be late.”

────────

The next morning, Eddie had woken up early.

Not because he had something to do or somewhere to be. No vastly important errands that he needed to run. Eddie had woken up early because his body couldn’t stand to stay dormant and asleep any longer. Because, for once in a long time, his reality was better than sleep. He had something to look forward to- you.

He had never felt this way before, never took his work too seriously- honestly, what was there to take seriously? He just showed up, fucked, picked up his check, and went home. He never put much thought into things. He just did them. But today was different. Today, he seemed to be putting too much thought into everything.

He agonized over whether or not to drink coffee, worried that the caffeine might make him come off hyper or on edge when he finally had the opportunity to speak to you. He debated foregoing breakfast, giving himself an excuse to invite you out to post-work brunch if things really took off between you two. This was the start of all of his worries. The closer it got to his call time, he got more and more in his own head.

He was suddenly hyper-aware of everything about himself. Anything that you could nit-pick when you finally met. Did you like tattooed guys? What if you didn’t? Would you think his tattoos were stupid? Did you prefer guys with short hair as opposed to long hair? What if he wasn’t your type at all in the slightest and none of this even really mattered? It only got worse by the minute.

Then he reminded himself that you knew him. You’ve seen his work. You were a fan. There was obviously something you must have liked if you chose him out of any other guy in the industry. You were so pretty that you could have requested anyone you wanted- and you chose him. Eddie desperately wanted to know why.

He prepped and primped himself in the bathroom like a teenage girl. He took extra care in the shower, scrubbing every inch of himself vigorously with the soap that smelled extra good.

He washed and conditioned his hair. Hell, he actually brushed it and applied product instead of just running his fingers through it and calling it good. He fucking styled it- putting it into a low bun with a hair tie that he found in his medicine cabinet. He knew just how much wearing his hair up drove women crazy- and he hoped that you weren’t any exception.

He paid extra attention to his downstairs area, making sure that he was perfectly trimmed and proper for you. The last thing he wanted was for you to get on your knees for him and be met with an unkempt jungle. He wanted things to be neat and tidy. He also hoped that landscaping the bush would make his dick appear prettier- something that you’d want to put in your mouth.

An hour before his call time, he was shaking like a leaf. He felt like he was in high school again, nervous and skittish around the female population of Hawkins High. Which was ironic considering what he does for a living these days. Over the years following graduation and leaving that hellhole, Eddie had begun to gain a sense of self-confidence. His demeanor changed.

He became sure of himself, finally believing that he was worth women’s attention. That he was far more attractive than he initially gave himself credit for- and the critical feedback on his work as a porn actor definitely proved that. If twenty year-old Eddie could see just how many women would flip their shit over him, he’d have probably dropped dead in disbelief. But none of those women mattered. None of the porn girls that he had previously filmed with mattered. Even the girls from Hawkins didn’t matter anymore. You mattered.

The whole drive to the studio was anxiety-inducing. Multiple people tried to cut him off on the freeway- gotta love L.A. traffic. Some douchebag in a fucking Corvette flipped him off because he forgot to use his blinker, which seemed to worsen Eddie’s mood as he just kept overthinking himself. How was he supposed to talk to you, let alone shoot a scene, when he couldn’t even drive straight?

When he finally pulled up to the studio and parked his van, Eddie was officially a wreck. He had no idea what to do with himself. You were probably already inside trying to pretty yourself up for your scene together. Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what you would wear- hell, why did he even care if you wore anything at all?

He wondered if you were just as nervous as he was. Granted, you had an excuse. This would be your first scene with a partner, meanwhile, this wasn’t anywhere close to Eddie’s first rodeo. Yet, he felt like a virgin on prom night.

He enters the studio, trying to act normal as the front desk girls greet him. Even the choruses of “Hi Eddie…” in their seductive voices weren’t enough to get him out of his own head. He just gave a small wave and a slight tinge of a smile on his lips. Normally he would’ve leaned up against the receptionist desk and flirted- given them just a scrap of his attention. But not today. Not when he felt like he was going to be sick.

He drifted all the way back to Paul’s office, casually knocking on the door a couple of times before letting himself in. His manager looks up from his desk, suddenly adopting a confused look on his face once he laid eyes on Eddie.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” Paul asks, tilting his head in confusion.

The comment takes Eddie aback, immediately causing his stomach to drop. Was he missing something? He was supposed to be here…right? Then he felt the dread seep in.

Fuck. The shoot’s cancelled. No way. There is no…fucking…way.

“I…uh…I’m confused.” Eddie replies slowly, shaking his head as he tries to keep it together. This could not be happening.

“Aren’t we shooting today? I came before call time. Did they fucking cancel?” He panics, running his ring-clad fingers through his hair in agony. Fuck!

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down.” Paul says “Nobody cancelled. Shoot’s still on.”

“But…I thought…you said you were surprised that I’m here.” Eddie tries to reason.

“Yeah,” Paul nods, looking at Eddie as if he were nuts “I’m surprised that you’re here before call time. I’ve managed you for the past three years and I can barely remember a time when you’ve ever shown up on time. Let alone early.”

“Oh.” Eddie replies, dumbfounded.

Well, at least the shoot is still on.

“Are you wearing cologne?” Paul asks, looking Eddie up and down as he stood awkwardly in front of his desk.

“Oh.” Eddie breathes “Yeah.”

That has Paul even more confused. Eddie always smelled nice but it was always just his natural scent- laundry detergent, a woodsy musk from the deodorant he wore, and a hint of cigarette smoke. Eddie never deliberately put on cologne unless he was trying to impress someone- and Paul knew this.

“Alright, well…” Paul starts, not knowing what to say to make things less awkward than it already was “Your leading lady is here. Dressing room A.”

“She’s here already?” Eddie gapes, taken by surprise. He thought he had more time to prepare. For what? He didn’t know.

“Yeah, kid. Unlike you, the leading lady happens to know a thing or two about punctuality. Speaking of which, why don’t you go see how she’s doing? Bet she’s sweating like a sinner in church. First time on-camera partner and all that.”

“Do you think she’s nervous?” Eddie asks, out of concern but mostly to gauge if you could be nervous because of him.

“No idea, kid, but it would be nice for you to have a conversation with each other. You know, before you stick your dick in her mouth.” Paul suggests.

To which, he had a great point. Eddie probably should go and say hi. Hopefully he can pull himself together enough to be charming and personable for you. Or, if anything, at least make you feel a bit more comfortable with him before he went down on you in front of a whole camera crew. This could either go very well for him or become a complete disaster.

────────

Eddie stood outside of your dressing room door, his body so tense that he felt like stone. On the other side of this door was you- the girl of his wet dreams that he somehow, begrudgingly, didn’t know existed until yesterday. To say that he was nervous would be an understatement. Eddie’s stomach felt like it was tied in knots and the last thing he wanted was for you to see that he was nervous. No, he had to play it cool- confident and sure of himself. He could do this. Even if it was all a facade.

He begins to knock, so nervous that he could practically break into a sweat over it. He was definitely glad that he decided to wear cologne today but then Eddie began to worry that maybe the cologne would make it seem like he was trying too hard. He was worried that you could sense it and that it would turn you off. Turning you off was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

He could hear shuffling from behind the door, the sound growing closer before the handle turned and the door swung open- revealing you. All dolled up with completed hair and makeup. Wearing that short little silk robe. As soon as you saw him, your face broke into a smile.

Okay, Eddie thought, that’s a good sign.

“Hey,” he smiles, trying to be smooth but it was so fucking hard when you looked at him with those eyes “I’m Eddie. I’m…uh…I’m your scene partner for today.”

Not that he had to introduce himself. You knew exactly who he was. You had gotten off to his scenes more times than you could count.

“Right, of course!” You exclaim, extending out your hand in greeting as you introduced yourself to him. Eddie raised his eyebrows when he noticed that you hadn’t given him your porn name. No, you had given him your real name.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you….properly.” Eddie jokes, causing you to laugh. God, he loved the way your lips curled into a smile- how your eyes lit up. You were so damn pretty.

“Me too.” you nod, looking at him for a beat too long to be accidental. With a cheeky little glint in your eyes as you casually looked him up and down.

Oh, Eddie thought, so we’re flirting now?

“You mind if I come in? Or are you going to make me hang out in the hallway?” Eddie teases “Which I wouldn’t mind. As long as you keep looking at me like that.”

Your heart flutters in your chest “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” You bite your lip nervously- and, boy, does Eddie notice.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” He smirks “So, you gonna let me in or?”

“Right!” You shake your head “Come in.”

You step aside, letting him walk through the door before closing it for privacy. Not that you expected anything to happen. Not off-camera, at least.

Eddie walks over and sinks down onto the small loveseat that was against the wall in the dressing room. He sits seductively, legs spread apart as he leans back on the sofa like he owned it. Honestly, he was so charming that he could tell you that he did, indeed, own it and you’d believe him. You, on the other hand, sank down into the hair and makeup chair across from him.

“So, I…uh….I should probably say thank you for accepting. My management probably already told you but it’s my first time doing a scene with someone else. I normally do solo work.”

“So I’ve seen.” Eddie replies, a cocky smirk on his lips. He wanted you to know that he had seen you in action. Not that he needed to tell you. No, he just wanted to remind you of the fact.

“So, my manager might have told me that you had requested me specifically…..by name.”

As soon as the words left his lips, your face began to heat up in embarrassment. “He told you that?”

“Mhm.” Eddie hums, his eyes devouring you.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry,” Eddie smiles slyly “I was pretty flattered, actually. Not gonna lie, it kinda gave me a big head.”

And, to tell you the truth, I wanna show you my big head, Eddie wanted to say.

But he didn’t want to come off crude and overtly sexual during your first meeting.

“Really?” You mumble bashfully, trying to look anywhere but at Eddie but it was so hard when he was so fucking hot.

“Yeah.” He confirms “Especially coming from a girl like you. So, tell me, sweetheart….why me?”

The sound of his deep, sexy voice calling you sweetheart was enough to make you light-headed. Lord have mercy….

“Well,” you sigh “My management really started to float the idea of me doing stuff with a co-star. They thought it might push my career a bit more and give me more opportunities. To be honest, I wanted to do it but I didn’t want to do it with just anyone. So, I told them that I would only agree to do it as long as I could pitch at least one guy that I thought I could feel…comfortable with.”

You thought you could feel comfortable with him. You had chosen him because there was something about him that you felt was different than all of the other porn guys. You were far too shy to admit it but Eddie was your favorite male pornstar. You didn’t know what it was about him but he just felt safe. Like you wouldn’t be completely in your head if you were to work with him.

You had seen so much of his stuff that you had witnessed exactly how he treated other girls-putting their pleasure first so much so that he made sure to at least get them off twice before he finished, himself. It wasn’t just that but how soft he seemed with them. Like every one of them and how they felt was important. For your first time, you didn’t want to feel like a piece of meat. You wanted to feel cared for. You were certain that Eddie Munson would be the perfect guy to pop your first-time cherry with. He didn’t want to settle for anything else.

“I make you feel comfortable?” He asks, looking at you in a way that had you on the brink of melting into your seat. However, truth be told, it was Eddie who was trying not to lose his shit. You felt comfortable with him. You had chosen him because there was something different about him than the others. You felt something.

“That’s, uh, really flattering.” Eddie clears his throat, trying to stifle the very turned-on moan that he felt coming. "Can I maybe ask why you feel comfortable with me? Y'know, so I can lean into it while we're shooting the scene?"

And so I can use it as spank bank material tonight…

“Well, I don't really know what it is exactly.” You begin, wringing your hands nervously in your lap “I guess it’s the vibe you give off. I’ve seen your stuff and I just….there’s something about how you treat the other girls that makes me feel like I’d be safe. Cared for, I guess.”

“Okay, yeah." He nods.

Keep it together, Eddie. Jesus Christ...

“I want to make sure you feel cared for. It's important to me. Especially it being your first time. I'm really flattered."

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, of course. How could I not be?' Eddie admits “You're, like, super gorgeous....and you picked me, for some reason."

He says it as if he's not one of the most sought after guys in the industry. Like he was nobody. Like he couldn't have a harem of girls hanging all over him if he wanted to.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m looking forward to it. Making you feel cared for...and safe."

"Thanks, Eddie." You reply bashfully "That means a lot to me."

"Um....so....since we're being truthful and shit...can I admit something?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Yeah." You agree "Absolutely. Safe space and all." You smile and, god, it makes Eddie's dick so hard.

"I...uh...I've kinda got a little crush on you." He blurts out before he can back out of saying it.

"Oh." You breathe, your eyes widening in surprise "You have a crush...on me?"

Eddie fucking Munson just admitted that he had a crush on you.

"...Yeah." He winces "I've kinda been down bad for you since yesterday."

"Really?" You repeat "Me?"

"Why do you keep saying it like it's hard to believe or something?" Eddie laughs.

"I mean....because it is. You're...you know..."

"I'm what?" He pushes, wanting to hear you say it.

"You're Eddie 'The Munch' Munson, for god's sake."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Eddie laughs "That’s a new one."

"I mean...it's not not factual." You argue "When you...you know...eat pussy like that....you could have basically any girl that you want."

"Hm." Eddie hums, as if he were doubting it.

"Oh please," You tease "Don't act all modest. You know you're gifted."

"Oh, I am, am I?" He flirts, a cheeky smirk spreading across his lips.

"As if you don't know." You scoff, trying to avoid his gaze. But how could you when he was so hot?

"Well, sweetheart, that's really flattering coming from you." He compliments "At least I know that I have a pretty good chance of pleasing you later."

The comment went straight to your core, causing you to shift in the hair and makeup chair as you clamp your thighs together. You tried to be inconspicuous about the fact that him and his words had such a strong effect on you, but Eddie's eyes shift to your long, sexy legs as you crossed them in your seat. His lips curl into another smirk. He was loving this.

"Don't look at me like that." You practically whisper, your face heating up bashfully.

"Like what?" Eddie teases, that fucking shit-eating-grin still plastered on his face.

"I don't know. Like-"

"Like I wanna eat you?" Eddie interjects, raising an eyebrow at you seductively.

Cocky asshole....

"What if I do wanna eat you, sweetheart?" He asks, leaning forward as he rests his elbows on his knees, staring you down.

"I-"

"'Cause I do. As a matter of fact, since this is a safe space and all, I'm going to tell you that I wanna eat you so fucking bad. Real bad."

You were so fucking wet. Holy fucking shit.

"And if I'm being real honest, baby, I wanna eat you so good that I make you cry. But I get the feeling that you just might like that."

"Eddie..."

"But only if you want me to." He adds "I don't wanna misinterpret anything."

He couldn't misinterpret anything if he fucking tried. How you felt about him was so fucking obvious.

"Anyway," He says, quickly standing from his seat on the sofa. “I should probably go freshen up for you. Y'know, seeing as I'm about to get really lucky in the next..." He checks his watch "Thirty minutes."

He looks up from his watch, his big brown eyes falling upon you- drinking you in.

"See you out there, Princess."

────────

You were so fucking nervous. You stood off-set, watching as production set up lighting- making sure there was the right amount of brightness on the scene stage. The set was a small brick-walled room with an expensive looking black leather sofa in the middle. White shag rug underneath it and some vibrantly green foliage plants in the background.

It was reminiscent of those “casting couch” scenes that porn companies liked to shoot- but this one was classy. Not cheap and sleazy. Like it was the middle of someone’s living room- a glimpse into a private passionate moment between a couple and not just two strangers fucking. Eddie Munson was going to eat you out on that couch. The thought of it made you somehow even wetter than you already were.

Just as you were allowing yourself to get lost in the fantasy, you feel a large hand on your waist- causing you to look over to find Eddie standing next to you. Staring at you with softness in his eyes.

“Doing okay?” He asks, searching your face for any indication that you weren’t, indeed, doing okay.

“I’m okay.” You breathe shakily “Just a little nervous.”

“Don’t be.” Eddie whispers, leaning into you so intimately that only you could hear “There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me. You’re safe with me, okay?”

And somehow those five little words felt like they’ve lifted so much weight off of your shoulders. He was right. It was just him. You could trust him.

“Okay.” You whisper, looking into his warm, brown eyes. Everything was going to be okay.

“How about this…” he starts, beginning to think “If things become too much or you need to stop, I want you to tap my arm twice. I’ll get them to cut and we’ll take a break.”

“Won’t they get mad?” You ask, your voice tiny and uncertain.

“It doesn’t matter.” He states “What matters is that you’re comfortable. This is about you, sweetheart. Without you, there’s no scene. You have the upper-hand. You are in control here. Nothing happens here that you don’t want to happen. Understand?”

“Yeah.” You nod “Okay.”

“You trust me?”

“I trust you, Eddie.”

“Good.” He nods “Because there’s nothing to worry about. If things start to get overwhelming with everyone watching just close your eyes and just focus on feeling, okay? That’s my job. To make you feel good.”

You didn’t think it was possible to be even wetter than you had been before but Eddie being sweet on you had practically opened up a floodgate inside of you. If it weren’t for the scene, you’d throw yourself at him right there.

“Well, hopefully I’m able to return the favor.” You say “I’ve never done that before…on camera.”

You were alluding to giving him a blowjob. It’s not like you haven’t given blowjobs to ex-boyfriends and casual hookups before. But this was different. You would be sucking off Eddie Munson- a man that’s probably received far too many blowjobs to count. He’s probably experienced some mind-blowing shit and there’s no way that you’d ever be able to compare to what other porn girls have been able to do to him with their mouths. You were embarrassed to even try.

“Sweetheart, I’m sure you’ll do just fine, trust me. I’m not picky.” He laughs “Blowjobs are like pizza. Even when it’s not the best pizza, it’s still good because it’s pizza. Not that I expect you to be bad or anything.”

“…I don’t know if that’s supposed to be encouraging or not.” You reply, starting to retreat back into your own head.

“Sweetheart, what I’m trying to say is that it’s going to be fine. Don’t think too much about it.”

“But how could I not think about it when-“

You were cut off by Eddie grabbing for your hand, squeezing it affectionately as he looked into your eyes.

“I thought said you trusted me.” He points out, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I do.” You reply hastily “I just-“

“Like I said, focus on feeling. When we get to that part, I just want you to focus on what feels right. Things will be fine. Honestly, there’s also nothing sexier than a girl that’s into it, y’know?” Eddie explains “You don’t have to be the best at something. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you enjoy doing it and I want you to enjoy yourself. ‘Kay?”

“Okay.” You nod, letting his words sink in.

“Also, sweetheart, with lips like those, I’m sure you suck cock like a champ but I guess I’ll just have to wait to find out.”

Your heart skips a beat at his dirty confession and you almost think about smacking his arm before one of the production managers approaches you.

“You’re on in five.” They say “Start stripping down and we’ll get you on set.”

You felt your blood run cold.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers, voice low as he strokes your back with one of his large hands “If it gets to be too much just look at me, okay? I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here the entire time.”

You take a deep breath before nodding. Eddie gives your hand another squeeze before letting you walk to take your place on set. He had successfully gotten you out of your head even just a little bit. Now Eddie just had to get himself out of his own head about cumming too soon.

────────

Eddie stands back near the camera as the director calls action. He had been watching you like a hawk, eyes peeled for any sort of sense that you were beginning to panic. He stared as you dropped your robe, handing it off before gingerly taking a seat onto the black leather sofa.

“Alright, start off slow like you normally do. Take as much time as you need. Start off with slowly taking the panties off. We’ll do some light touching, maybe some fingering. Get yourself nice and ready then Eddie’s gonna come in and take care of you.”

Hearing those words immediately felt soothing to you.

You look over towards the camera and lock eyes with Eddie. He was right there like he told you he would be. He winks at you, setting off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

You began to follow directions, waiting for the director to give you the okay before you started. Then you began to do what felt right. Just like you were doing a solo masturbation scene. You began to touch and caress your body, getting yourself worked up as you got into the scene.

You began with your breasts, reaching your hands up as you began to knead them through the red lacy bra that you had chosen for this scene- something that made you feel sexy and confident. In your head you began to repeat it like a mantra.

You were sexy and confident.

You are sexy.

You are confident.

You could do this.

You push your tits together, thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the lace bra and you gasped at the feeling. You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to be in the moment and just feel. Just like Eddie had told you.

Eddie, on the other side of the set, was watching. His eyes were hyper-fixated on every little thing. The way your soft hands roamed your supple body and you tossed your head back in pleasure as you teased yourself. He was too far away but he was sure that you were letting out the tiniest little moans as you touched and squeezed and felt your sexy body with gentle hands.

Eddie had been halfway hard all morning but now his cock was starting to respond to every little thing you did. Every pinch, every grasp, every flick of your fingers against your tits. He could’ve sworn that it was starting to get hot in there and your bra wasn’t even off yet.

“Okay, honey, start to naturally drift down more. Get to the panties and take them off. We want it nice and slow, alright? Tease the camera.”

Tease the camera? Eddie definitely won’t be lasting long enough for the planned cum shot if you kept going on like that. But he didn’t dare say it out loud. He didn’t want to immediately gain a reputation for finishing fast even when he had so much pornographic proof out there that he wasn’t a fast shooter. You were the first girl in the industry that made him worry that he was going to finish in his pants as soon as he got a taste of you.

Nevertheless, your hands began to drag down, lower and lower until they reached the waistband of your panties. Red lace just like the bra. You didn’t even have to feel yourself to know that you were ready to go. You knew as soon as you had locked your eyes on Eddie from where he stood off-set that you were going to be drenched. But your right hand still delved into your panties, swiping at your folds as you felt just how wet you were.

Eddie watched, heart pounding as he stared at your hand down your little red panties-playing with your sopping wet core until you slowly removed your fingers. Drawing them out to reveal a thin coating of your arousal. Eddie’s breath hitched as your eyes bore into him. You were staring at him. Your gaze was locked in on him. All of this was for him.

You bring your slick fingers to your mouth, maintaining eye contact as you popped them into your mouth, sucking them nice and clean.

Fuck, you dirty girl….

Eddie’s dick begins to strain against his jeans at the action. God, was he ready to find out what you tasted like. He couldn’t take the teasing and direct eye-contact for much longer. He was so fucking ready for you.

Meeting the expectations of the director, you slip your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, seductively shimmying your hips as you pulled them down tantalizingly slow- agonizingly slow. Eddie watches with greedy eyes.

You laid back onto the sofa, panties wrapped around your thighs as you begin to lift your legs up, pulling the wet lacy fabric the rest of the way down your legs that were lifted slightly into the air- giving the camera a nice view of your pussy. Thighs pressed together in a way that had Eddie staring hungrily. He wanted so badly to sink down to his knees and hold those legs up like that as he ate you. The sight was mesmerizing.

After the lacy panties were off, you flung them across the set- right in Eddie's direction and he swore he saw a cute little smirk on your face when you did it. God, you were so naughty- and he was going to teach you a lesson.

"Okay, honey, now lay back on the couch. Spread your legs. Great! Perfect! Can we get some finger action in there?"

Eddie realizes just how well you follow directions as your body melts into the back of the couch, bringing your legs up onto it as you open them for the camera- spreading them open for everyone to see and, god, it was a fucking sight that was so fucking unholy. Yet, Eddie couldn't look away. Not when you were bare and spread out in front of him for his eyes to feast upon. That gorgeous body, those lace-clad tits, that glistening wet pussy. You were going to fucking kill him.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any hotter, you looked off near the camera- eyes trained on his as you used your fingers to spread yourself open for him. He could have passed out right there.

Fuck, he was really gonna give it to you.

He was going to devour every fucking inch of that tight little pussy until you were screaming. Fuck the cameras, fuck the scene, fuck everyone who was watching. They didn't matter. All that mattered was what he wanted to fucking do to you.

Your fingers began to tease your hole as you glided them up and down your slit. You were so fucking wet that it was making Eddie weak in the knees. Your sopping wet pussy was none other than a holy altar in which he wanted to bow down and worship. Eddie wasn't religious but you were a fucking goddess that he would devote his entire fucking life praying to if you let him.

You began to play with yourself, using your fingers to rub your needy little clit in slow circles. You threw your head back against the back of the sofa as you close your eyes. Focusing on feeling. Making yourself feel good. Getting yourself nice and wet for Eddie.

Eddie.

Eddie fucking Munson with his huge fucking cock and his soft-looking lips and those big brown eyes. How he made you feel. So cared for, so safe. Your fingers begin to work your clit a bit rougher. You had seen him on screen so many times fucking so many girls and now it was finally going to be you. His head between your thighs. His tongue in your folds. Sucking on your clit. It was getting you so fucking worked up.

You insert two fingers into your pussy as you begin to fuck them into yourself. You let your mind take over, moans tumbling from your lips as you try to fuck yourself with your fingers as deep as you can- wanting to hit that spot within yourself that had you curling your toes.

You shove them as deep as you go, trying to reach it but you just couldn’t. It felt like something was missing. But you kept trying. It felt good, of course it did, but you couldn’t help but feel like something was off. Like you were struggling. Now you were beginning to wonder if closing your eyes and thinking about Eddie was what did you in.

You had no issues in the past with using your fingers on yourself to get the relief you needed but now they just felt inadequate. As if they suddenly weren’t enough. It was so odd. Was Eddie jinxing you? Were you maybe more nervous than you originally thought? Were you-

“Alright, honey, how are we doing?” The director asks, bellowing out to you from behind the camera. “You look good, babe. Gorgeous. We’re going to add Eddie in. Are you ready?”

You look over at Eddie as he begins to strip off his shirt, his brown curls still tied back in a low bun. As he removes his t-shirt, you can’t help but stare- zoning in on his sexy, toned body. He was so fucking hot. Just when you thought you couldn’t be more turned on by him, he looks up at you- making sure that you were okay. That you were comfortable.

You both lock eyes, staring at each other with so much sexual tension that the whole room could probably feel it. You wanted Eddie Munson so bad- his body, his mouth, this hands touching all over you. You wanted him so bad that your body felt hot to the touch. He had been your industry crush for so long and now you were going to have his mouth on you- tasting you.

You give the director the okay, still spread out on the couch. As Eddie prepares to join you on-set, he can’t help the way that his eyes wander over your beautiful body. Your perky tits, your long legs, your pretty face, your sexy curves- but, most of all, your glistening wet sex. You were practically dripping with arousal as he shamelessly stared at you- the most gorgeous angel he’s ever laid eyes on. He hadn’t even gotten his mouth on you yet and he knew that he was in for trouble.

“Alright, you’re on.” The director nods towards him, giving Eddie his cue. It was the moment that he had been thinking about for hours.

His hardened cock was surely very noticeable beneath his black jeans. He could’ve sworn that there was so much blood rushing to his dick that he would pass out from the sheer lack of it being anywhere else in his body- and it was only getting worse with the way that you were looking at him. As if he were the most delectable man on the planet. Which, you would have to admit, was pretty accurate.

Your eyes stay glued to him and the pure fucking sex god that he is as he crosses onto the set, introducing himself to the scene. You loved the way that the black denim of his jeans hugged his waist. You loved the silver chain that dangled against his right hip as he strode over to you. You loved the soft tufts of dark hair that made up the happy trail leading down into the waistband of his pants. Eddie Munson was a fucking dream. He was a king- and you wanted to be his queen.

“Hey, you.” He whispers, eyes on you as he sinks down onto his knees in front of you “Doing okay? Not nervous?”

He was checking on you. Fuck, there was no way this man could be any hotter.

“I’m okay.” You whisper back “Just a little overwhelmed.”

The way that Eddie looked at you with those chocolate brown eyes made you want to melt.

“Yeah?” He asks, voice still low enough for only you to hear- sharing this intimate moment with you only.

“Just a little.” You answer. You were trying not to focus on your nerves but you could feel the space that they occupied in your body.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. Just close your eyes and relax. I’m here to take care of you.” He says, his eyes warm “Remember what I said? If it gets to be too much just focus on me. Just forget that anyone’s even here. Okay?”

“Okay.” You whisper back, staring at him as you nod.

“Good.” He says “Now, how can I help you get comfortable? What do you need? Hm?”

God, he was making you so wet…

“….I….I, uh, can you use-“ You immediately felt embarrassed, your face flushes as you try to look away from him.

“Hey, hey, hey…” He tsks “Eyes on me. Look at me, angel.” He reaches for you, taking your chin in-between his thumb and forefinger- guiding you to look at him. “Tell me what you want. It’s just you and me here. It’s just us. Okay?”

“Okay.” You bite your lip, nodding along.

“Say it.” He demands, maintaining eye contact “I want to hear you say it. Need to know that you’re with me. That it’s just me and you in this room right now. Nobody else. Just us, okay? Tell me.”

“I….It’s just us.” You breathe, your body feeling as if it were on fire from the intimacy “You and me. No one else.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Just you and me. Now, tell me, what….do you….need?”

What did you need?

“You, Eddie. I need you.” You gasp lightly, causing his lips to form into a smirk.

“What do you need me to do?” He asks “Gotta use your words or I won’t be able to understand.”

“I want….I need you to kiss me. Please?”

Eddie lets of a short, low growl from the back of his throat as his hands fly to your waist, grasping tightly as he jerked you towards him- wanting you closer.

“C’mere, baby.” He rasps, straightening his body to become level with yours before he uses one of his large hands to grab the back of your neck- pulling you into a rough, hungry kiss that was so intense that it could have knocked the air out of you.

And Eddie fucking Munson was an amazing kisser.

The way that his lips slotted and molded against yours. The way that his mouth moved against yours as he nipped and licked and sucked at your bottom lip. The way that he slid his tongue into your mouth as if you belonged to him- causing you to want him to make you his.

You moaned into his mouth as his tongue fought for dominance against yours, taking your breath away with how desperate he was to kiss you harder and more passionately than he already was- if that were even possible.

How hands were all over. Grabbing your waist, his fingertips trailing up and down your back in delicate touches. The way that his thumb slipped underneath the clasp of your bra. He pulled his thumb back to stretch out the band then released it to let it snap back against your soft skin- earning him a surprised gasp.

He removes his lips from yours, beginning to pepper light kisses along your jawline before trailing his lips down your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him more access as he kisses down the column of your throat and then back up- working his way over until he began nibbling on your ear. You thought you were dreaming when he whispered in your ear.

“Can I take your tits out?”

You probably seemed needy and desperate as you fervently nodded your approval. You worried that you probably looked pathetic but, to Eddie, there was nothing hotter than seeing how worked up you were getting.

“P-please.” You mutter, voice coming out breathy and shaky.

“Mmm…good girl. Wanna look at those pretty tits when I fuck you with my fingers.”

You let out a startled squeak at his filthy works, causing him to grin.

“Fuck, sweetheart, does that turn you on? Listening to me tell you that I wanna put my fingers in you? Hm? That I wanna stuff you full?”

“Fuck, Eddie…” You moan.

“God, sweetheart, you’re already moaning my name and I haven’t even touched you yet. So needy for me. I fucking love it.”

He reaches both hands around to your bra clasp, expertly popping it open and removing it as if it were the easiest thing on earth. To him, it probably was. He’s probably taken off so many girl’s bras that he could do it with his eyes closed.

He pulled the bra off, taking it in his large hand before flinging it somewhere on the set. Not that it mattered. As hot as it was, it was getting in the way of what he really wanted. Your tits in his mouth.

“Mmm fuck, baby.” He groans, staring lovingly at your gorgeous chest- your hardened nipples. “You are so goddamn pretty, angel. So beautiful. Can I put my mouth on them?”

“Please.” You moan, arching your back in order to bring your tits closer to his face. Eddie chuckles at your eagerness.

“Shit, sweetheart.” He laughs “You want me to put them in my mouth? Yeah? These sweet fucking titties….”

He keeps one hand on your waist while the other snakes up to your chest, grabbing a handful of your boob as he squeezes it in his hand.

“So fucking soft, honey. So warm…..so perfect.” He teases, voice low and seductive. “Perfect little tits. Want me to put them in my face? Suck on your perky little nipples? Fuck, they’re so hard for me.”

You don’t know what came over you but you instinctively grasp at Eddie’s hand that was left grabbing your waist as you draw it up and onto your other breast, wanting him to have two handfuls of you.

“Look at you, sweet girl. You want both my hands paying attention to your tits? So bossy.” He tsks “Could’ve just asked. But that’s okay. I’m gonna give you what you want. But you’re gonna have to do something for me too.”

You look at him with curiosity in your eyes. You had no idea what he was going to ask you. Truth be told, it made you a little nervous.

“Since both my hands are full, sweetness, I’m gonna need you to use yours to play with your pussy for me. Think you can do that for me? Hm?”

Fuck

You stare at him as he surveys your body, now fully nude in front of him. God, you were a beautiful sight.

“Okay.” You squeak out, nodding your head.

“Atta girl.” He whispers “That’s my good girl. Now start rubbing your clit.”

────────

To Be Continued…

A/N: Hope you enjoyed part one. Sorry that I cut it short, I didn’t want to make the fic too long and I also wanted to get it out before I left for vacation next week. I feel like I’ve already held this back from you all long enough. Please excuse any spelling errors. I’ll go back and edit later

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[sandyfics]

Georgia, Georgia

Eddie Munson x fem!reader x Steve Harrington

And sometimes, when he looks at me I know he needs you, you’re all that he sees.

Summary: You and Eddie dated for a few years back in high school. It was young, it was messy, and it was real. While you fall for another, Eddie is left behind wondering why he can’t stop loving you.

3.5k words

Contains: TW: character death, angst, slight emotional cheating (not really though), blood, gore, grief, no happy ending, unreciprocated love

…

The Upside Down smelled like rain and rot.

Everything dripped. Vines curled across the cracked pavement beneath your sneakers while thunder rolled somewhere far away, muffled beneath the permanent bruise-colored sky.

You stood beside the trailer gate, fingers wrapped so tightly around the strap of your backpack your knuckles hurt.

Everyone was talking at once.

Nancy was checking weapons. Robin was rambling nervously. Dustin and Steve were arguing over batteries or flashlights or something that should’ve mattered more than it did.

But all you could hear was Eddie.

Not his voice.

Just the sound of him being near you again.

It had been months since you’d broken up. Long enough for the ache to dull into something manageable. Long enough for Steve Harrington to carefully, patiently stitch warmth back into all the places Eddie used to occupy.

Slowly, delicately. Not trying to force himself in when the wounds were still fresh. He watched from the distance how you licked your wounds, and piece by piece, he stepped into your life.

Steve was steady. Kind. Safe. You loved him for it.

And Eddie?

Eddie had always felt like standing too close to the edge of a roof just to prove you could survive the fall.

You hadn’t meant to drift toward him, most days you stood as far apart as possible, but suddenly you were standing beside the torn mattress in his trailer while everyone else prepared to split up, Steve giving you a soft tap on the back of your pants as he squeezed out of the trailer with a gentle expression.

For a second, neither of you spoke, then Eddie laughed softly through his nose.

“You and Harrington, huh?”

You looked down immediately. “Yeah.”

“Still weird to think about.”

His voice was light, joking almost, but you could hear the strain underneath it. Like a guitar string pulled too tight.

“You okay with it?” you asked quietly. You weren’t really sure why. His answer wouldn’t change anything. You loved Steve. You did.

Eddie glanced at you then, brown eyes flickering with something unreadable in the dim light.

“Doesn’t really matter if I am.”

“That’s not true.”

He smiled at that. Small. Tired.

“It kinda is.”

Silence stretched between you.

Outside the trailer, Dustin yelled something about regrouping in twenty minutes, but it sounded far away.

Eddie leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his Hellfire shirt. “He treats you good?”

Your throat tightened.

Not because Steve didn’t, but because Steve did. He did in all the ways Eddie never had, gave you things you didn’t know you’d been going without until you had them.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “He does.”

“Good.”

Another pause.

You hated how familiar this felt. Like no time had passed at all. Like you were still sixteen, sitting on the roof of his van while he smoked cheap cigarettes and talked about leaving Hawkins someday.

Back then, he used to look at you like he was terrified you’d disappear. Now he looked at you like you already had.

“You know,” he said softly, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder, “I used to think you and me were gonna end up one of those disaster couples people tell stories about.”

You huffed out a weak laugh. “Disaster couples?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He grinned faintly. “Real cautionary tale stuff. ‘Don’t do drugs, don’t join cults, don’t date Eddie Munson.’”

You laughed for real then, and it made something in his expression crumble.

Because there it was. That sound. The one he’d been missing. The one he still loved.

His gaze dropped to your mouth for only a second before he looked away again.

“You happy?” he asked.

The question landed harder than it should’ve.

Because you were.

That was the terrible part.

Steve made you feel calm in a way Eddie never could. Steve remembered things; your favorite movies, when you got quiet instead of angry, how you liked your hand held during horror films even though you’d never admit it out loud.

Steve loved you gently. Eddie had loved you desperately.

And maybe there was a difference.

“Yeah,” you answered honestly. “I am.”

Eddie nodded once. You watched him swallow hard before forcing another crooked smile.

“That’s all I wanted.”

Lightning flashed a horrible red through the trailer windows, and there was a distant cry that echoed from some sickening creature.

For a moment, he looked exactly like the boy you used to know: messy curls, tired eyes, rings glinting silver against pale fingers.

Homesick. Not for Hawkins.

For you.

Or for who he thought he might still find if he dug.

“You ever think about us?” he asked suddenly.

Your breath caught.

“Eddie—”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted quickly. “Forget it. Dumb question.”

But it wasn’t dumb.

Because sometimes, late at night beside Steve, when everything was quiet and safe and good, you still remembered what it felt like to kiss Eddie in the back of his van while music blasted through blown speakers.

You remembered smoke in the air. His hands shaking when he held your face. The way loving him always felt like trying to outrun a storm.

Sometimes, you thought of him fondly, missing when it was good quietly. He was your first love, your first everything. But Steve.

Steve had pressed his fingers into every fold of your brain so easily, so carefully, that the fondness never lasted long. Not when his hands wrapped around you like they did, not when his pillow smelled like his shampoo and his wet lips pressed sweet kisses along your neck tiredly.

You remembered how everything fell apart most times, and the fondness disappeared with a hard ache.

Because loving Eddie was like being out of breath.

And Steve made you feel like you were taking your first deep inhale in a while.

“I do,” you admitted softly.

He went still.

“Sometimes.”

The honesty seemed to hit him harder than anger would’ve.

His eyes closed briefly, like he was trying to survive hearing it. Then he laughed once under his breath, shaking his head.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured. “You really gotta stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Making me think maybe I still have a shot.”

Your chest ached.

There was an awkward pause. Because Eddie knew you, he knew you and still, he’d messed it all up.

Outside, Steve called your name.

You turned instinctively toward the sound, and when you looked back, Eddie was already watching you.

Not angry.

Not bitter.

Just heartbroken in the quietest possible way.

“You should go,” he said.

You hesitated. “Eddie…”

There were a thousand things you could’ve said.

I’m sorry.

I loved you too.

Please don’t look at me like that.

Instead, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

He froze.

For one terrible second, you thought he wouldn’t hug you back.

Then his arms tightened around your waist so suddenly it hurt. Like he’d been starving.

You buried your face against his shoulder, breathing in metal and smoke and the faint scent of his leather jacket.

His hand slid into your hair carefully, reverently.

The way someone touches something they already lost.

“You know what your problem is?” he said quietly near your ear.

“What?”

“You were always too good at leaving.”

Your eyes burned.

Had you been? Or had Eddie always been too good at pushing?

You pulled back before he could see it.

Before either of you could say something irreversible.

“You should go,” he said softly.

You nodded, but neither of you moved.

Instead, his eyes flickered over your face like he was trying to memorize it, sadness and all.

He paused when he reached your eyes. Those big, sweet, sad eyes that always made him melt.

“If you find me again someday,” he said suddenly, voice quieter now, “you think you’d recognize me?”

Your throat tightened painfully.

“Always.”

Something fragile crossed his face at that.

Then he smiled; small, crooked, devastating.

Steve called your name again, closer this time.

And Eddie stepped away first.

Because of course he did. Always pushing.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and forced on that familiar crooked grin, the one that hid every bruise underneath it.

“Go save the world, sweetheart.”

You smiled sadly.

“See you soon.”

Something flickered across his face then, so fast you almost missed it, like he wanted to tell you something, like he wanted to say don’t make promises you can’t keep.

But he only nodded, and you walked away without looking back.

Without knowing that Eddie stood there listening to your footsteps disappear.

Without knowing it was the last time he’d ever see you.

…

When you came out of the trailer, the air shifted immediately.

Ahead of you, Nancy and Robin were crouched over supplies near the ruined street while Steve knelt beside a flashlight, smacking it against his palm repeatedly.

“C’mon,” he muttered. “Don’t do this to me right now.”

The flashlight flickered weakly.

Robin snorted. “Maybe if you stopped hitting it like it owes you money—”

Steve looked up at the sound of your footsteps.

And immediately, his expression changed.

Softened.

“There you are.”

Something in your chest loosened before you could stop it.

Steve stood and crossed the short distance toward you without hesitation. “You okay?”

The question was so simple.

No teasing. No assumptions. No pressure.

Just genuine concern.

You nodded automatically, but Steve tilted his head slightly like he could already tell the answer wasn’t fully true.

He didn’t push. Steve never pushed, and you never left.

“You cold?”

Only then did you realize you were shivering.

The Upside Down air clung damply to your skin, cold enough to settle into your bones. Somewhere tucked between the threads of your clothes, the gel of the gate stuck against your skin.

Without another word, Steve shrugged off his jacket and stepped closer.

“Steve, seriously, you need that more than I do.”

“I run hot,” he said automatically.

You huffed out a small laugh despite yourself, and Steve smiled immediately when he heard it. Not smug or teasing, just relieved.

Like making you laugh mattered.

He slipped the jacket around your shoulders carefully, fingers brushing the back of your neck for only a second before pulling away again.

Warm.

Everything about him felt warm.

Even now.

Especially now.

Your throat tightened unexpectedly.

Because Eddie loved loudly. Wildly. Like a storm tearing itself apart.

But Steve loved in these tiny, impossible-to-ignore ways. Remembering when you were cold before you said anything, keeping himself between you and danger automatically, even if that danger was just a slight breeze.

Looking at you like your feelings were something precious instead of something overwhelming.

The world was still ending, but Steve stood in front of you like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, quieter this time.

You looked up at him.

At the concern written so openly across his face.

At the way he kept glancing at your hands like he wanted to hold them but didn’t want to crowd you.

At the way he’d trusted you enough not to question why you’d gone to talk to Eddie alone, and suddenly your chest ached.

Eddie loved you like a wildfire. Passionate. Devastating. Impossible to control.

But Steve loved you carefully. Like he wanted to keep every broken part of you safe.

You remembered late-night drives with him after nightmares, his hand resting loosely on the steering wheel while he talked about absolutely nothing just to keep you grounded. You remembered him learning your coffee order after hearing it once, the way he always reached for your hand first in crowded rooms. The way he looked at you now.

Like losing you would undo him.

“You’re staring,” Steve said softly, amused.

Heat rushed to your face immediately. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” His smile turned gentler. “Kinda like when you look at me like that.”

Your heart betrayed you completely.

“I’m okay,” you said softly this time.

Steve studied your face another moment before nodding once.

Then, almost absentmindedly, he reached up and brushed a streak of Upside Down ash from your cheek with his thumb.

The gesture was so gentle it nearly broke your heart.

“There,” he murmured.

Your eyes locked for a second.

And suddenly you remembered exactly why you fell for him.

Not because Steve Harrington was fearless.

Not because he swung nail bats at monsters or threw himself into danger without thinking.

But because he was tender.

Because even after everything; all the blood and fear and nightmares; he still chose softness.

Robin yelled suddenly from down the street. “Lovebirds! Less staring, more apocalypse!”

Steve rolled his eyes instantly. “You’re just mad nobody buys love songs for you.”

“You literally own one tape by Journey,” Robin shot back.

You laughed again, fuller this time.

And Steve looked at you like that sound alone made this entire nightmare worth surviving.

Steve’s grin appeared instantly at the sound, bright and boyish and so painfully alive.

There it was again.

That warmth.

That steadiness.

And standing there beneath the ruined sky with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders and his hand briefly brushing yours as he turned away, you realized something that made your chest ache.

You had loved Eddie like a catastrophe.

But you loved Steve like coming home.

That was when it hit you all over again. Why you fell for him.

Not because Steve Harrington pretended to be fearless.

But because underneath everything: the monsters, the bruises, the blood; he stayed gentle anyway.

…

For one horrible, beautiful moment, you thought the plan had worked.

The red lightning above Hawkins had slowed.

The ground had stopped shaking.

And through the ringing in your ears, you could hear Robin laughing breathlessly somewhere behind you while Nancy tried to catch her breath.

“We did it,” Robin said, almost disbelieving.

It seemed too good to be true, the way Vecnas body, hung from his fleshy branches, went up in flames. The way he’d stumbled, and then: nothing.

Had it really been that easy?

Steve turned immediately toward you, hands landing on your shoulders. “You okay?”

You nodded too fast. Adrenaline still flooded your veins, making everything feel unreal and far away.

“I think so.”

Steve searched your face carefully beneath the flashing red light of the Upside Down sky before giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Then Dustin screamed.

Not startled.

Not scared.

Destroyed.

The sound cut through the air so sharply it silenced everyone instantly.

It was distant, a horrifying echo that was nearly quiet enough to brush off as the upside down screaming in pain.

Your blood went cold.

“Dustin?” Steve shouted.

Another scream answered him. You were already running before anyone else moved.

The streets blurred around you. Ash and dirt kicked up beneath your shoes while panic climbed viciously into your chest.

“No, no, no—”

It was like you knew. You knew that you’d heard Dustin scream, but it had only been him. Only one voice in a group of two.

You knew Eddies screams, you’d fought enough and sat in while he complained to know that pitchy whine it became. There was only Dustin.

Behind you, Steve kept pace easily. Nancy and Robin followed close behind.

You knew. You knew deep down, and you wished you didn’t. Something horrible settled in your stomach.

Then you saw the trailer.

The bicycles overturned outside.

The open doorway.

Dustin on the ground.

You slowed abruptly.

Because Eddie was lying in Dustin’s arms.

Too still. Too much blood.

Everything inside you seemed to disconnect all at once.

“No.”

The word escaped you before you even realized you’d spoken.

Dustin knelt on the ground beside Eddie’s body, crying so hard he could barely breathe. The world stopped.

Dustin looked up at you with a face soaked in tears and blood. “I—I couldn’t—”

“No.”

Your flashlight slipped from your fingers and clattered uselessly onto the pavement.

Because it couldn’t be Eddie.

It just couldn’t.

Not him.

Not the boy who laughed too loud. Not the boy who played guitar like prayer. Not the boy who always got back up again no matter how hard the world shoved him down.

But then you stumbled closer and saw the blood.

So much blood.

Torn denim. Pale skin. His chest barely moving. Steve reached you a second later, but you barely felt him.

Dustin looked up, sobbing openly now. “The bats— I tried—”

You dropped beside Eddie so fast your knees slammed painfully into the pavement. The flakes from the rotted earth flew up around your thighs.

“Eddie?”

His name came out tiny.

Fragile.

Like saying it out loud made it real. Like if you said it too loud, he might not answer. That in itself was an answer.

“Eddie,” you whispered immediately. “Eddie, hey— hey—”

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of your voice, and somehow: somehow he smiled. Weak and shaking and heartbreakingly small.

“There she is,” he rasped.

A sob tore from your throat.

“No, no, no, no—”

Dustin backed away enough to give you room, still crying silently into his sleeve. Somewhere between the shuffling and breathing, Robins hands settled on the young boys shoulders.

You grabbed Eddie’s face carefully, hands trembling so badly you could barely hold him.

Blood coated your fingers instantly.

“No,” you repeated desperately, tears blurring everything. “No, you’re okay, okay? We’re getting you out— Steve’s gonna help, Nancy’s gonna—”

“Hey.” Eddie coughed painfully. “Sweetheart.”

The nickname shattered something inside you.

Your vision swam.

Steve shifted closer behind you, steadying you when your hands started trembling too hard to press against Eddie’s wounds properly. His larger hands pressed against your wrists.

“You’re okay,” you lied frantically. “You’re okay, just stay awake—”

But Eddie was already looking at you in that awful way. Like he knew. Like he’d accepted it before you had.

Eddie’s eyes moved slowly over your face, like he was trying to memorize every piece of you before he lost the chance, like the first time hadn’t been enough. It would never be enough.

Then his gaze flickered briefly toward Steve.

Something quiet passed between them. Something you couldn’t fully read.

Steve’s arm tightened instinctively around your waist, and Eddie smiled faintly.

“See?” he whispered painfully. “Told you Harrington was a good guy.”

You shook your head immediately, crying harder now. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Talk like…” Your voice cracked violently. “Talk like you’re leaving.”

Eddie’s expression softened.

Rain drifted slowly from the poisoned sky above you both, ash collecting in his curls.

“You know,” he whispered, struggling for breath now, “I used to hate him.”

Steve looked down immediately, jaw tightening. His eyes couldn’t meet Eddies. Maybe partially from guilt for his uncontrollable affection, or maybe from a bitterness he couldn’t name.

Eddie gave another weak smile. “Not his fault. Just…” His eyes found yours again. “He got you.”

Your chest caved inward.

Steve’s hand slid higher along your back, grounding you before you completely fell apart.

“You deserved somebody who could keep you safe,” Eddie murmured.

“You did too,” you cried.

For a second, something unbearably sad crossed his face.

Then it disappeared.

“I didn’t run this time,” he whispered.

You shook your head violently. “Don’t talk like that.”

He let out a wet, broken laugh.

“I mean it.” His breathing hitched painfully. “I finally didn’t run.”

Tears spilled hot down your face.

You could barely hold him, trembling fingers drenched in maroon. Sticky and wet.

“You idiot,” you choked out. “You absolute idiot…”

He laughed weakly at that, then winced immediately afterward.

Even now. Even dying, he still wanted to make you smile.

Your hands pressed uselessly against the wounds at his side. Too much blood. There was too much blood.

“Stay with me,” you begged. “Please, Eddie, please—”

His eyes drifted over your face slowly, carefully, still memorizing you.

“I used to think,” he murmured, voice barely audible now, “if I loved you enough… maybe someday you’d come back.”

Your chest caved inward.

“Eddie—”

“But you look so happy with him.”

Steve.

Even now, there wasn’t bitterness in Eddie’s voice. Only sadness. Only love. And somehow that made it hurt worse.

He was dying, he was lying beneath you dying, and as much as you wanted to tell him you were still his, there was no part of you that could deny what you felt for Steve.

“You deserve to be happy,” he whispered.

A broken sound escaped you.

“You were happy too,” you cried. “You could’ve been—”

The possibilities of his life swam, and then sank when he let out another tired cough.

“Nah.” His lips twitched faintly. “I think… I think you were the closest I got.”

Your forehead dropped against his as sobs wracked through you.

The rain fell harder now. Or maybe it was just ash. You couldn’t tell anymore.

Eddie’s shaking hand lifted weakly toward your face. You grabbed it immediately, pressing it against your cheek.

Cold.

His fingers were already getting cold.

“If you find me again someday,” he whispered, barely breathing now, “you’ll recognize me, right?”

Your heart broke completely.

Because he remembered. The trailer. His question. At the time you thought it was sweet, sincere. Now you knew why he asked. Because he knew.

Always, you’d told him.

“Always,” you sobbed.

Eddie smiled then. Not the loud, reckless grin he gave the world. Something smaller. Softer. Just for you. And for one terrible second, he looked peaceful.

“I love you,” he breathed.

The words destroyed you. Not because you didn’t know, but because he said them like goodbye.

Your lips parted instinctively, the answer already there, already climbing up your throat—

But Steve.

Steve waiting for you.

Steve loving you faithfully while you knelt here holding the ghost of your first heartbreak.

And Eddie saw the hesitation. Of course he did. Yet somehow, even then, he spared you.

“It’s okay,” he whispered gently.

You cried harder.

Eddie’s thumb brushed weakly beneath your eye, smearing tears and blood together. Then his hand slipped. His breathing stuttered once.

Twice.

And stopped.

For a moment, nothing happened.

The world didn’t crack open.

Thunder didn’t roar.

He was just; gone.

You stared at him in disbelief.

At the stillness of his chest. At the half-lidded eyes no longer looking back at you. At the way his head fell limp to the side as soon as your hands pulled away.

“No,” you whispered.

Then louder:

“No— Eddie—”

You shook him desperately, hands slipping in blood and rain.

“Eddie, wake up— please—”

Dustin was crying again somewhere beside you, but the sound felt impossibly far away.

Because all you could think was:

He can’t leave me too.

Not Eddie.

Never Eddie.

You folded over him finally, clutching his jacket in your fists while grief ripped through you so violently it barely felt human.

Steve caught you before you collapsed completely.

“Oh my God,” you sobbed. “Oh my God—”

He pulled you back against his chest while you cried hysterically, your hands still reaching desperately toward Eddie like letting go would make this permanent.

“It’s okay,” Steve whispered shakily, even though his own voice was breaking. “I got you. I got you.”

You buried your face against him, trembling violently.

Over Steve’s shoulder, Dustin cried beside Eddie’s body beneath the poisoned red sky, above him Robins crumpled face looking away from the body like it made her sick. On the other side, Nancy, who stood stone faced, only her eyes showing a flicker of the grief she felt between Dustins sobs.

Steve held you tighter while the world ended around all of you, and above you, ash continued falling softly from the ruined sky.

Like the world itself was mourning him too.