warnings: mdni! 18+ only, porn without plot, it's literally just smut, eddie is toxic, arguing about anything and everything, spitting, unprotected sex, no foreplay, aggressive dirty talk, dom!reader and dom!eddie at the same time(?), no aftercare. 1.1k words
Eddie’s the type of boyfriend who would try to grab at you when you’re still pissed at him. You had been livid for hours and each minute that passed, his mere presence infuriated you further.
You are standing in the kitchen, waving your hands and fussing about the millions of things he was supposed to do today and didn’t.
You are just fucking raging at this point. And all he’s doing pulling you towards him, hands working around the hem of your clothes. You are trying to push him away, begging him to just listen.
But Eddie has always had a one track mind.
The moment his exploratory fingers grace the slight raise of your nipples, you slap his arm.
There’s a way to get pent up aggression out, and that’s what Eddie’s trying to hint at. you can resolve the issue later since there’s no real rationalizing with you when you’re this heated.
You push your hands over your forehead, “Jesus, Eddie, you’re so fucking frustrating!”
He grabs your belt loops, pulling you closer. You practically trip into him. His voice is deep and teasing, “You wanna fuck about it, I know you do.”
You shake your head, pushing him off of you and storming to the bedroom. You wait in the room, arms crossed, waiting for him to bust in there like he usually did when you walk away from an argument.
It's always like he was right. You do want to fuck about it.
But on your terms.
He stops dead in his tracks when he sees you pouting, hip jutted, arms pushing up your boobs in your tank top.
“Take your fucking pants off,” you demand, voice stern and unwavering.
He smirks, knowing there’s no way you’re directing him around, “Mhm, as long as I get a good look at you-”
“I cannot stand you,” You yank your pants down in unison with him, matching his haphazard stripping method. Pants and underwear first, shirt next and swiftly, “you're such an asshole.”
He has no time to lick his wounds. Your words do hurt, but they fuel another fire within him.
He grabs onto your arms, trying to direct you to bend over the bed. Face down.
“Yeah? What else?”
You lock your legs before you can fall into the unmade bed. You flutter your lashes incredulously. How dare he think he is running the show here? You’re still fucking mad.
“Nope, I’m facing you.” you press yourself against his nude chest, “not getting on my stomach.”
Eddie tenses, his anger flaring a bit because you just won't listen. “Why?”
“Cause I'm not done arguing with you.”
You drop onto the ruffled top sheet, all splayed out for him. You widen your legs, not leaving anything to the imagination. You scrunch your eyebrows as Eddie pumps himself a couple times before submitting and drops his knee on the bed between your knees.
“You gonna take this cock? hm?” He shifts his hips over you, draping himself over your curves. He drags his cock between your already slick folds.
You may be pissed at him, but it doesn't take much time of looking at Eddie's nude body for you to get absolutely soaked.
“Just do something, for fucks sake-" You look between your legs as Eddie tilts his cock down and presses his hips forward, "Eddie oh my god.”
He fucking smirks as he snaps his hips again, the slapping of skin adding fuel to your fire, “Yeah, sweetheart, all bark, no bite.”
He's above you, hair falling over his shoulders like a curtain. The fire you felt before only tangles up into the desire for him, “Fuck you. can’t fucking stand you. just shut up-“
He thrusts forward harder, halting abruptly just to cut you off, “Or what?”
You gape at him, appalled by his boldness. You latch onto the thought of grabbing his face, so you do. You move quickly to pull his cheeks together with your thumb and other fingers. His mouth forms into a small 'o' as you pull him closer to your face. His hips don't stop moving the entire time, his cock dragging deeper and deeper into you.
When his spit makes contact with your lips, you curl your fingers into the flesh of his cheeks, “Did you just fucking spit on me?”
You release him, practically pushing him off you. But his hands are locked onto your hips, his fingers latched onto your skin. Cock still dragging inside you.
“You wanted missionary, baby.”
He sits back on his knees, fucking into you harder. You cannot help but whimper your jibe, “So you can look at the disdain on my face.”
That smirk returns. The pleasure in your tummy starts to build up as his pelvis shifts against you. “Looks like pleasure to me, darling.”
“Faster,” You look down at when your bodies connect. You need him to pick up the pace if you're going to cum. You needed that release if he was going to put you through this. You move your hand down to swipe at your sensitive clit, “Now.”
“How about harder? You want me to-“
You slap his shoulder with your free hand before your nails dig into him, “Shut up an fuckin’ do it!”
He just chuckles darkly, "You really do wanna fight, huh?"
The glisten from your own wetness coats Eddie's cock and it's painfully delicious to look at. You almost want to push him off you and suck it off. But that's almost too much of a reward for him. And he didn't deserve that.
Now that you think about it, him finishing inside you is something he didn't deserve.
You add two more fingers over your sensitive clit, rubbing tight circles so you could squeeze the shit out of him and soak his pelvis as you finish.
"Yeah, that's it, baby. Play with yourself while I fuck this cunt of yours," Eddie interjects through clenched teeth.
The white hot pleasure comes in no time at all after his filthy mouth eggs you on. Before Eddie can throw his head back and revel in the feeling, you leverage your foot onto his chest and push him completely out of you.
Your body falls limp as he completely loses sensation around his cock and he cums at the same time his back slams into the dresser across from the bed. The ropes of white stain the dirty clothes pile he left at the center of the room. All his work clothes.
You cannot help but laugh, watching his face contort in confusion and irritation.
"What the fuck babe-"
"Looks like you really need to do some laundry now, huh?"
When he looks down at the mountain of clothes he tripped over, his jaw ticks. "I hate it when you play dirty."
"I hate when you don't do what I ask," You remind him, standing up in all your lustrous glory. You slip out of bed, grabbing your folded robe nearby. You wrap it around your body while he stands there, still flabbergasted, "Washer is open, go ahead and throw those in."
description: he's burned inside your memory after a summertime fling. now, after high school, he's everywhere you go. is it fate? or something even more devastating?
warnings: 18+ content, MDNI!!, no use of y/n, reader and eddie have history, lovers to enemies to lovers again, reader and eddie are out of high school, reader is a hairdresser, tons of yearning, eddie being toxic (in the past), jokes about 'stalking', nicknames (mainly sweetheart), jealousy, drinking alcohol, smut, pussy eating, dirty talk, hair pulling, unprotected p in v, reader on bc, finishing inside, cuddling. angst and then fluff.
authors note: this fic is heavily inspired by caramel by conan gray! his new album FUELED me this weekend. I wrote this in like two days and it fulfilled something new in me. ty @amanitacowboy for the beta <3 i hope you enjoy it! please reblog, like, and comment <3
how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune
He had carved a place out in your brain, occupied by him and him only.
He had spent the latter half of high school ignoring you, even though your history was a prominent stain in your life. Senior year you spent yearning for simpler times with him.
Eddie Munson was something you really did not need. But in some sick twisted and backwards way, you wanted him.
You two had a summer fling that was a whirlwind to say the least. He was your first everything. Kiss. Sexual experience.
First love? Maybe?
But that all went straight to hell when you started senior year and he completely ignored you and started talking to other girls. The only interaction you had with him that entire year was a party over spring break and he drunkenly pinned you to a wall in the hallway, his lips ghosting over yours, quietly confessing how much he missed you. You kissed him, lips lingering a bit too long than they should have.
Could not have been missing you that much, you remember thinking, because the next week he was holding hands with some girl from your physics class.
After graduation, you decided college was not for you. You went to hair school, got your certificate, and paid rent to stay at your parents' house. You cut hair at the local salon on Main Street and tried to make just enough to pay bills. Extra money was hard to come by.
Hawkins stayed the same, but as an adult, it felt different.
You only saw a couple classmates around during the school year, and dreadfully, Eddie was one of them.
After one particularly long day at the salon, you stop by the grocery store that's on the way from your house and decide to grab yourself a cheap microwavable meal. It's all you could do for yourself, a small little treat.
You turn to head to the registers, eyes flickering upward to see Eddie Munson standing directly in front of you. He was already looking at you, those big, stupid brown eyes boring into yours.
Eddie would never admit it, but you had done the same to his brain. But instead of indulging in his desire to be strictly yours after that one summer, he ran away. Like he always did.
Because giving your all to someone was terrifying. And he was young. He had always been told by his Dad to keep his options open and that no woman was truly worth monogamy.
So he pushed you away, finding ways to distract himself from your beautiful smile and the history you two harbored.
He promised himself he would find someone whose lips were sweeter. Tongue sharper. Hips just as addictive.
But it's been almost three years. And no girl came close to you.
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. You hold your frozen food close to your chest, almost trying to hide in embarrassment.
"Long time no see, sweetheart."
His eyes light up when you roll your eyes at his statement, the toothpick placed in between his teeth rolling back and forth.
He's the next customer in line and you are praying for the elderly in front of him to hurry up. But he's hoping she takes a bit longer getting change out of her purse as the employee lazily scans her Raisin Bran. He is so smitten seeing you looking all pretty, eyes tired, and shoulders slouched.
"Hi, Eddie," is what you decide on saying as you shift on your non-slip sneakers. He scans you up and down, taking in your end-of-shift appearance.
"What are you getting up to these days?"
"Work."
You are quick to respond now, not wanting to drag out the conversation longer than it needed to be.
"Where are you working now?" He presses, putting his odd arrangement of groceries on the moving belt.
"Shear Works."
He has no clue what that is or where. You can tell you've confused him almost immediately as he turns with his brows all furrowed and nose scrunched. "Am I supposed to know what that is, sweet-"
"Hair salon in downtown Hawkins," You reply bluntly, grabbing the separator on the moving belt to put your single item down. You clear your throat, watching the cashier bag Eddie's items and tell him his total.
He pays her in cash, tucking the loose change in the leather jacket he's been wearing since junior year. You can tell it's starting to grow a bit tighter in his shoulders by the worn marks across his collar.
"You do hair?" He asks, grabbing his bag and leaning against the end of the aisle. You greet the cashier with a smile and nod as she scans your item, bagging it. You start to dig through your small change purse as you bite back to Eddie.
"Yes, that's what I went to school for."
He scoffs, crossing his arms, his plastic bag hanging on two of his fingers. Still heavily littered with rings.
"Do you cut men's hair?" He asks, almost teasing you.
You peer up at him as you hand the cashier exact change. She hands you a receipt and you stuff it in the plastic bag she hands you. "No."
Eddie follows you out of the exit, chuckling to himself. You are halfway in the middle of the street by the time he repeats your name.
"Always nice seeing you, sweetheart."
"Likewise, Munson."
You run into him not too long after that. An early morning run to the gas station turns into you trying to hide yourself behind a display in the chip aisle, away from him.
But Eddie can almost sense when you're around. He follows his intuition and walks to grab a bag of Doritos. When you peek your head to check if the coast is clear, your eyes meet his.
"Well, would you look at that," He smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners at your obvious plan, "Hiding from something, darlin'?"
You roll your eyes, sighing at your strategy to avoid the guy again blowing up in your face. "Good morning, Eddie."
"You look beautiful as ever today," He compliments, scanning you up and down. You take note of his outfit, a dark navy blue jumpsuit, a white tank top peaking out over his chest. You realize then he actually works. "Heading to work?"
"Yeah, I needed." You stop looking at your hands to remember what you had come in for in the first place. A plain white milk for your coffee at the salon. Right. "Milk."
He raises his brows curiously. "Just milk?"
"And gas."
He nods at that, licking the corner of his lips. It's not lost on you that his flattery has your hair prickling over your arms and neck. He was making you nervous with the way he was eyeing you.
He just couldn't look away. Eddie was a simple guy. But this being the second run-in with you in the last two weeks, he cannot help but admire new things about you. You paint your nails this pretty red color, slightly chipping around the cuticles. The way you part your hair. The clothes you wore were also a bit tighter, showing off your curves.
You side-step him while he daydreams about you, like he used to as a longing teenage boy. You needed to stop looking at him, or else your body would start shaking with adrenaline.
He's like a tall, tempting glass of wine when you've been sober for a couple of years.
You get in line, pay for your items quickly, and get outside to your car. You did not really need gas; you just wanted another excuse to be inside the god forsaken store.
Eddie watches you from the inside, shifting his head back and forth to make sure you would still be in the parking lot as he left. When he pushes the glass door open, you are getting in the driver's side of your small sedan.
"Hey," He hollers, gesturing towards you, "I'll see you around?"
You want to say no. You need to, actually. But you don't.
You just nod. "Sure. See you around, Eds."
Calling him by the nickname you used to call him was not lost on him.
The next time you and Eddie see each other, it's at the same grocery store you visited before.
You had a craving for some Honey Combs and Oreos, knowing your period would be coming soon, and that's probably why. You grab the Oreos first, lost in your own thoughts about the borderline horrible haircut you did on some poor old lady earlier today. It was eating you alive-
Until you see him in the cereal aisle. He grabs a box of Honey Combs and looks at the packaging, lost in his own thoughts. He would be eating cereal for dinner for the 4th time this week.
He knows someone is watching him, and he's almost not surprised it's you. He knew he'd be seeing you again.
You knew this had to be a sign from whatever was above.
He's in his normal clothes, not the jumpsuit from before. A t-shirt that hangs right above the belt on his tight black jeans. He's still wearing those damn boots he has had since junior year.
"You stalkin' me?" His voice shrills, stepping away from the towering cereal shelves. You walk towards him, feigning confidence, but in actuality, you just want to show him up and show him you were not going to hide from him this time.
You reach up for a box of Honey Combs. "No, I think you are stalking me."
The smile that stretches across his lips makes you grin in return. He nods, accepting your twisted around answer.
"You caught me red-handed. I've been staking out the grocery store every day, just waiting for you to show." He plays into it, shaking the box of Honey Combs towards the parking lot through the large glass panels at the front of the store.
You giggle, tucking the box of cereal under your armpit.
God, he missed that laugh. He didn't know he could miss a sound that much.
"Knackering for Honey Combs?" You wave your own box at him.
He looks at you incredulously, "Well, of course. It's only the best cereal. I'm the one who put you on those, remember?"
You remembered everything Eddie introduced you to. Metal. Dungeons and Dragons. Honey Combs. Lord of the Rings. Changing your turntable needle. How to inhale while smoking a joint. How to play three chords on the guitar.
He sees your brain going down the line, the face you make indicating that you are considering something.
"That's right," You admit, looking at the yellow box in all its glory, "You did introduce me to some good shit."
He offers a half-hearted smirk, "And some not so good shit."
He can reflect, too. That time in his life was not great. His one-track mind made him kind of an asshole. The last couple of years, he's moved away from a lot of the mentalities he pressured himself to endorse and believe in when he was trapped in high school. Being confined in that place made him constricted. He did not see himself growing up in any way every time he failed.
Nowadays, all he does is work at the shop, play D&D with his friends on his nights off, and sleep. Fuck a high school diploma.
You cross your legs, swaying in your position in the middle of the aisle. "You were a douche."
His eye twitches jokingly at that. "Yeah, it was bad, huh?"
"Doesn't make those fun times, awful, though. Even when you were a douche, they were good memories."
"Very good," he agrees.
"Exactly."
You two stand there, awkwardly smiling and agreeing.
He doesn't know why he says it. Maybe it's his mind extending an olive branch, but he stops nodding, looking around as if someone may catch him hitting on you or something. Who cares?
"Are you busy?"
You shake your head no, your stomach twisting at your initial thoughts.
"You want to come hang out? I rented a shitty horror movie and was gonna order some Chinese."
He knew that was your favorite. He was actually planning on ordering a pizza.
You had no plans, and your heart was nudging you towards the potential of being close to Eddie. In his house again. Spending time with him. Being close to him again.
All the signs were pointing you here. You had been hiding away from it. But after your first rekindling moment at this grocery store, he's been haunting your thoughts. He's not going anywhere anytime soon, you thought to yourself.
He's practically shaking, waiting for your response.
"Sure, I can just follow you home."
"Who's the real stalker now?"
You smack his shoulder, making him almost drop his box. "Shut up and let's check out."
When you arrive at his trailer, it looks the same as the last time you left it. Hats lining the walls, a coffee table littered with ashtrays, and dirty dishes in the sink. You hold your hands in front of your figure, biting your lip as Eddie puts the bags on the counter, slowly unpacking them all.
"Do you want anything to drink?" He asks, not looking up from his task.
His body is buzzing while your eyes are watching his every move.
"What do you have?"
He looks in the fridge as he puts some stuff away, "Beer, water, and apple juice."
"I'll take a beer."
He shoots you a look like you had just told him you were expecting a baby or something. Shock and amazement.
"Oh, sweetheart, you're just full of surprises nowadays."
He grabs two cans, his long wing span reaching out to give you one. You pop the top, taking a sip of the infamous light beer that Eddie's tongue used to taste like almost every day. That summer you two shared together consisted of a lot of late-night bonfires at people's houses and lots of shared drunken kisses.
As he takes a sip, he cannot help but smile as you take a swig and wince. "Yummy."
The chuckle that leaves his throat is gritty and strangled, so you both break into more booming laughs at the noise. You lean against his counter across from the fridge, the tension between you two slowly melting away. It felt like being in the room with your best friend again. A familiar space and beer can do wonders in putting your mind at ease, specifically.
But Eddie is struggling. Those flutters he used to feel every time you entered a room start to bloom in the pit of his stomach. He does not know why he invited you here, but he's starting to regret it. He did not expect those feelings to ram back into his chest the moment he heard your belly laugh again.
And he doesn't know if he's ready to just ignore those emotions, like he knows he needs to. He does not want to do something he would regret. He did not want to misstep.
Even if he did, what would he be losing out on if he ended up drifting back into your sphere? No girls are lining up to be with him. He's too busy to worry about dates and impressing someone new.
You look at him, noticing his face twisting into almost contempt. It makes the hairs on your arm stand up, heat flaring up your neck.
"You know," You start, taking another sip and smacking your lips. You needed to guide his mind elsewhere, "I would have thought you ditched this place after high school."
"I tried," he shrugs, leaning back against cabinets beside you. A change of subject worked better for him, anyway, "But being broke does things to a guy. Plus, I got a job at the auto shop on Hurley. Doesn't pay the greatest, but I'm pretty good at it."
The jumpsuit. He was a mechanic. "So that's where the hint of motor oil comes from."
That makes him smile, those butterflies now scattering around all of his insides. He loved to banter with you, and with time, you only became more of a smart ass.
His mind drifts, trying to figure out how he can continue the conversation without staring down at you in wonderment.
"Do you want me to order the food?"
You take another sip of your beer, a small gnawing in your stomach taking over your thoughts. "Yeah, I'll just get my usual."
"General Tso's chicken? Extra veggies?"
You press yourself further into the edge of the counter, knowing this cannot be the reason your bubbling desire for Eddie crashes over you. He remembers your fucking order from years ago.
You tuck your bottom lip under your top teeth, "You got it."
After he orders and gives the restaurant his address, they estimate about 30 minutes, so you two occupy the time by sitting on Eddie's couch and catching up on other things in life. You tell him about how you still live with your parents. How annoying your Mom still is.
He tells you all about Wayne's promotion, which, while demanding, is bringing in a lot of extra cash. He goes on about how Wayne is going to buy a new house and let Eddie rent the trailer for a good deal, so they can finally have spaces to themselves.
It's the first time that he seems optimistic about his future, and it's endearing. The Eddie you used to know was pretty pessimistic. He had no future plans and did not think he would even make it past 25. All signs are pointing to the opposite.
The food arrives, and Eddie gets the TV set up with the cheesy horror flick he picked up before the grocery store. He knew you hated movies like this, but the promise of Chinese for sure won you over.
At least, that's what he thinks.
As you ate, you couldn't help but think of all the silly memories you had on this couch. Tickle fights. Eddie putting you in his lap while he rolled a joint, explaining to you step by step on how to do it. Watching the random NASCAR races with Wayne while Eddie doodled things for his next campaigns. You spent a whole summer as a teen in this world, and now, here you are, back in it as an adult. It did not feel that far away.
You finish eating, and instead of focusing back on the movie, you make more small talk with Eddie as he demolishes his steak and broccoli. You grab the plate he made and walk into the kitchen, feeling like you need to at least do something to help clean up. He bought you dinner, you do the dishes you two made.
He follows you in there, grabbing another beer for himself from the fridge. He lingers there for a moment, watching you scrub the sauce off the porcelain dish. Your side profile was slightly highlighted by the overhead light that you had flicked on as you fiddled with the faucet.
He could not peel his eyes away.
You finish the dishes, laying them out to dry and toweling off the water from your hands. You turn back to him, noticing his slightly agape lips as he examines you.
Shit. All that time and work to push all those debilitating thoughts of love and yearning were now crashing into him.
He moves closer to you as you pin yourself against the counter beside the sink.
You look between both eyes, trying to muddle through your own emotions of being in front of the guy you would spend hours on end at night trying to forget. Now you were sharing a meal with him and doing his dirty dishes.
But he always lingered, like a scar littered across the skin of your chest, right where your heart is. You could never fully let go of him.
"Do you believe in fate?"
It comes out as a whisper as his foot falls creep closer to you. You think back to your thought process from earlier. There had to be a reason he's finding you everywhere all of a sudden.
"I don't believe in much, beautiful." His palm slides across your face, cradling your cheekbone as he stares into your eyes like he may miss something. You don't even flinch, his hands feeling so natural on your body. When his other hand creeps around your waist, pulling you flush with his, you finally get a better smell of his new shampoo. More masculine than the infamous strawberry scent he used to reek of in high school.
He does not know what prompted his movements towards you, but you looked like a star in the sky he could hold. He wanted you close.
"So what would you call this…" Your hands finally find their way to his midsection, resting right above his black belt.
He thinks for a moment, because he truly does not know what this magnetic pull is between you two. It has been consistent from the moment he first laid eyes on you and talked to you years ago.
And in that moment, he feels like an idiot. He literally had it right with the first girl he ever cared about, and his instinct was to push her away and see if another one came around that could be even better.
He was an immature fool.
There was not going to be anything better than this.
The sparks that prickled his fingertips the moment they settled on your skin. The stuttering of his heart when you finally did it in return to his stomach. He had never gotten anywhere close to that with any other girl.
His dad was wrong. "No girl in the world is worth keeping around forever."
What bullshit.
"Witchcraft," Eddie muses, leaning towards you a bit, "Only explanation."
You tilt your nose up to brush against his, "You're so stupid."
He is the first to make the move, his beautifully symmetrical lips leaving your view only to press against yours. It's like you are projected back to that same hormonal teenage body you used to have, practically white knuckling him to keep him close to you.
And the way you melt so seamlessly against him, your strength to keep him so close is not lost on him. You used to grip him so hard that he thought you were trying to harness his gravity to keep you from levitating off the ground.
It's slow at first, but turns impatient quickly. His hand on your waist starts to creep down to your hip, and the one delicately gracing your cheek is now pulling you forward by the nape of your neck.
When your head tilts back, you instinctively open your mouth to allow his tongue to slip in.
He still tastes like those Marlboro Reds.
You've always tasted sweet, but there's something else. It was not the spice you just ate, or the beer you had earlier, whatever it is, it completely throws Eddie off. It's a light bulb moment, though. Because while you are still a lot like the girl he initially fell for, he has time to make up for and new things to learn about you.
The more you kiss him, the more he is absolutely sure that he wants to do exactly that.
You pull away, your breath being stolen every time he moves his head. "Will Wayne come home-"
"He's working until 9. We have time."
His expansive, warm palm grips the back of your thighs. Eddie had picked you up before, but that was your high school weight. You were a bit different now. So when he mouths to you to jump, you hesitantly do. Both his hands fondle your ass and thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist. He pads down the familiar hallway of the trailer, leading back to the room you were well acquainted with years ago.
Both of you do not know what you are doing or how you got here so quickly.
The moment he opens his bedroom door, you know you're jumping back into the deep end with your obsession with Eddie.
Obsession sounds like a scary word, but it was not in the way your friends made it seem to be. In high school, you thought about him all the time, talked about him a good sum of the time when you were with others, and always found yourself eager to be around him. When he was around, you would hang yourself off him like an accessory to his all black outfits.
He was very similar back then. Dreaming about you when he slept at night, yapping about you to Hellfire during the times Dungeons and Dragons was not being discussed, and every moment spent together was the best part of his day.
Now here you two are, years later, still somehow just as attracted, if not more, to one another.
It was all Eddie's fault for not putting it the puzzle pieces together correctly. He could not help but feel like a fool.
He kisses you again, almost like he was internally trying to erase that part of his memory by focusing on how perfectly your lips slotted against his.
He drops you onto his bed, wedging his legs between yours, tongues intertwined still.
You rake your hands through his hair, trying to ignore the tangles that are laced between the strands. As you tug slightly, Eddie hums against your mouth. You giggle when he moves away, "Don't stop doing that."
"What," You muse, letting his mouth trace down your mouth, to your chin, to your jaw, "Pull your hair?"
He laughs against your skin, "Stop that."
"What? Just trying to jog my memory as to what you like, Munson."
His lips press to your pulse point, the softness of the moment making your skin prickle with goosebumps. He lingers there for a moment as his hand leaves your hip to cradle the back of your head.
"I think we are a bit different, now. Maybe we like different things," He quips, his eyes raking over your features. His eyes are so dark, but there's a twinkle to them.
"You sure about that?" You say, pushing his hair away from his cheeks with one hand.
"You taste sweeter," He dotes, kissing your cheek, "You also have a new scent. Burnt hair, maybe?"
You slap his shoulder, gawking at him in mock offense. "Wow, low blow."
His smirk is so precious, it makes your stomach twist.
"You said I smell like motor oil, sweetheart."
You laugh again, throwing your head back into his hand more, "Looks like we both stink, then."
He giggles along with you, his perfectly aligned teeth beaming at you like they used to when you teased him. There's a moment after the laughter subsides, where everything gets quiet and you two just study one another.
He spent years of his life trying to imagine you as some villain in his story so he would just move on, but you were too bright, too electric, too beautiful to imagine as some criminal that would steal his heart and implode his life.
Maybe the heartbreak would be awful if you did end up dropping him, but even back in the day, he had no intentions of hurting you, and you seemed pretty into him.
He remembers when he told you that you two would be taking a break from each other, you were so accepting and casual about it.
But what he didn't know was that you wanted to scream at him. You went home that night, stole some wine from your mom, and cried for hours. You didn't want to push the subject, make him resent you, and risk any reconciliation.
Every time you saw him it was like salt in the wound. For months, you would run into him, and he would somehow reopen the wound even more by giving you a longing expression or touching your back when walking by you.
You two were dancing around the issue. Which was that both of you never wanted to stop being together.
He was brainwashed. You were a pushover.
So you two did your little dance around each other, occasionally weakening for a night and caving in to whatever you both needed at the time. That party over spring break. The bonfire at your friend's house, where he was dropping off weed.
Force proximity brought you together; that was for sure.
But this moment was chosen by the two of you. Sure, you had run into each other countless times, but it traces back to your question for him earlier. Fate.
"Can I kiss you more?" He asks, gently. You just nod, spending the next ten minutes rolling around in his bed, getting more aquatinted with his lips again.
The moment his hips press into you a bit more, you remember the very first night he took you. It makes the wetness pool in your panties as you return the motion.
Eddie cannot remember a time in recent years when he wanted to sleep with a girl as much as he wanted to sleep with you. He would never admit it, but every girl after you never compared, and he always found himself a bit disgusted with himself after every interaction.
You had only ever had him. Never going further with anyone else except for hand stuff.
Now you're back on top of him, locking him under you with your thighs.
"Do you want to-"
"So badly," He admits to you, his eyes still shut from focusing on kissing you. You fiddle with his belt buckle, popping the button on his jeans. You don't touch his crotch fully until he thrusts it towards your open palm, his jaw going slack in anticipation.
When your shirt slides off, so does his. You halt your movements, getting a look at a tattoo you had never seen before. A demon head over his left pec, all dark and harsh against his beautiful, pale skin. You smile as you trace your nail over it.
His heavy-lidded eyes admire the way you give his ink a once-over before returning to lock your gaze back to his face.
"Like it?" His voice sounds like air is caught in the back of his throat, which makes it even deeper than usual. His hands explore around your bare back, your bra still latched in the back. Seeing you like this again is invigorating
You just offer a half-hearted smile. "Does it matter if I do or don't?"
He rolls his eyes, his fingers sliding up under the clasp that's holding your boobs from dropping out of your bra.
"Not completely. It's permanent, so I can't really get rid of it if you hated it," He explains, peeling the straps off your shoulders and letting your bra pool between your stomachs.
They've only gotten better with time, he thinks to himself. You somehow got even more perfect since the last time he saw you naked.
"I don't hate it, Eddie," You lean forward, dragging your clothed core against his growing bulge, "It matches your aesthetic."
And it did. You did not love the design, but it was painfully Eddie, so you couldn't hate it. He had more tattoos scattered about, but this one was for sure his biggest and darkest. You liked that he expressed himself through art, music, and games he played with his friends. He's always been creative, which is one of the main things that drew you to him.
"Sounds like you hate it."
You tilt his chin up and press a longing kiss to his lips, just to stunt the conversation there.
The rest of your clothes come off the moment before Eddie's tossing you back onto the bed, your back flush with his navy blue sheets. His hands spread across your legs, fingers imprinting into the flesh as he crawls up you.
Lying bare under him again does not make you feel insecure like you thought it would. It's like getting the wheel of a manual car. Even though your new car is automatic, you still have the familiarity to know how to shift into gear and drive.
He kisses you again, just for good measure.
He hovers over your body, and you spot his cock straining against his briefs. It makes you wiggle against him, pushing your pelvis upward to lure him. He takes the bait, settling his shoulders between your legs.
He cannot help but bring his fingers up to your slit, spreading you open. A memory flashes to the first time he made you fall apart on his fingers. You looked so ethereal, writhing in the back of his van, your moans reverberating off the metal walls.
Feeling him between your legs is driving you insane. You reach down, raking your hands through his curls again. "Please, I need you."
He doesn't tease you like he used to, simply because this moment is too soft and intimate to bring in his old ways. He needed to taste you, feel you fall apart.
His tongue flattens to your cunt, licking between your lips painfully slow. His fingers need to be somewhere, so they bury right into your tight hole, dragging in and out as his tongue explores you.
Eddie has always loved eating pussy. Your pussy specifically.
The feeling of you shifting your hips, eagerly chasing that high he always brings you to, makes him close his mouth and press kisses to the top of your pussy. The moment his lips reopen, you look down to observe him sucking your clit into his mouth. The electricity that surges through your body makes you inadvertently scream his name.
And just like he always did, he does not give up until you are gushing around his fingers and moaning his name.
Your whole body feels like jello, your muscles feel like they are sinking out of your flesh. Eddie stands up, shoving his briefs down his legs and almost tripping as he flings them across the room. You cannot help but giggle at his clumsiness.
His eyes cannot avert from you, that's why he's fumbling over himself. You were so fucking perfect, laid out like this.
"That's my girl," Eddie tuts, crawling back over your body to kiss you with his messy, wet lips. You don't have time to display your confusion about his words before he's grinding into you, his mouth diving down to suck on your neck.
Your hands find his hair as his cock slips in between your sensitive pussy lips.
"Do we need a condom?" He asks, unsure if you were still taking that small white pill every day.
You think for a moment. You were still on birth control. You only ever took Eddie raw. That's how you needed him.
"No. Are you safe?"
"Of course."
"Then no."
Eddie cannot believe he's about to do this all over again. There was doubt at first, but now he's never been more sure about anything in his life. He needed you like he needed air. His heart is racing so fast, it feels like it may give out the moment he's pressing into you.
You haven't had sex in over a year, so the stretch is overwhelming at first. Eddie's cock was for sure the biggest you've ever had the pleasure of indulging in, and he knew how to use it. The first time you two ever had sex, he was so slow and careful with you. While you probably needed that now, you could not stand the idea of taking this easy.
"Jesus, fuck me," You throw your head back, exposing your neck and jaw to him. He chuckles, leaning forward more, fully sheathing his cock inside you. The pressure isn't unpleasant, just overwhelming. He dips his head down, his teeth lightly clamping down on your clenched jaw.
He needed to recenter himself or else he would bust immediately.
"You need to tell me how you want this to go," He pleads, his breathing ragged.
"Not slow."
His chest heaves and lets out a hasty chuckle. "Okay, noted."
He draws his hips back, taking a moment before he plunges back into your soaked center. His hands rest on your hips, his rings gripping you so hard they will leave imprints.
Even though Eddie has fucked you countless times, this singular moment felt like the most important time ever.
When he snaps his hips forward, you somehow find a way to relax into it. Eddie's core flexes as he repeatedly thrusts into you, which makes you whine. The pace he was setting was exactly what you needed.
"Yes, right there," You mutter as he hits that spot that makes your fingers and toes tingle with pleasure. He does exactly what you say because he knows hitting that spot will have you falling to the edge and into pure bliss. He needed you to finish again before he came. He was a gentleman after all.
"God, I missed this pussy so much. Never been another one like it."
He doesn't know why he says it, he's so blinded by chasing his high and watching you all slack jawed, taking him so pretty.
The goosebumps that shoot up your body are enough to have you clenching around him.
"Yeah?" Is all you can say as you watch his tongue poke out the corner of his mouth, like he's focusing or restricting the inevitable.
He sighs, like he's been holding his breath. "Need you to cum, sweetheart. Need to watch you fall apart on me like old times."
You reach your hand down between your bodies, toying with your clit that he was responsible for making so sensitive. That familiar burst of unbridled pleasure starts to surge as his hips speed up, pistoning into you.
"Yes, Eddie, yes! Right there!"
He grits his teeth, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head as you keen. Your hands grip onto the hair on the nape of his neck, trying to anchor yourself.
"So perfect- such a perfect pussy. Just for me," He rambles, his body quaking above you, "All for me."
The restriction on his dick from your cunt makes his orgasm rip through his body, a heat rising to his cheeks as he plants his knees on the bed, trying to regain his stability. He slowly grinds himself into you, pumping you full as your body practically jolts back and forth.
Eddie's hands move to above your head, caging in your head as you two breathe hot air into each other's mouths. You are trying to rack your brain for something to say, but you are drawing a blank. All you can think about is the beautiful way his eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles at your delighted expression.
Sex with Eddie was the best. But him being this close, chest pressed against yours, that was your favorite part of intimacy with him. You just liked how warm he felt against you.
He eases himself out of you, lying on his side as you try to catch your breath. You shoot him a look before returning your eyes to the ceiling fan spinning above you.
He didn't know what to say. You didn't either. So you both sat in silence for a good bit before you moved onto your side, turning your back to him. You are forced to stare at the wall that is littered with random metal bands album covers. You gather his wrist in between your fingers, draping it over your midsection. He takes the hint; this routine is something he vividly remembers about being with you.
His body heat practically penetrates your bare skin as you two just lie there in the dark. You don't remember falling asleep, and he doesn't remember ever trying to wake you up.
His alarm rattles you both awake, shooting up from the all-too-comfortable bed at the same time. You are a bit disoriented at first, until you blink a couple of times to bring his room into focus.
His hand moves away from you, slamming his fist on the top of his alarm clock.
"Fuckin' 5AM," he grumbles, rolling off his bed dramatically. Watching his completely nude body crumble onto the floor is actually comical, so you huff out a small laugh. He stands, and that's when you fully take in his beautifully toned back. He has gotten a bit bulkier than the last time you saw him like this. Being a mechanic must be good for his physique.
"I go in late today," You remember, slipping past his comforter to plant your feet on the ground. He turns around to you as he slips on some underwear.
Your tired eyes and sluggish movements are quite endearing. He cannot help but smirk down at you all naked and irresistible in his bed. You stand up, gathering your own clothes and slowly pulling them back onto your body.
As you do that, you notice something in the corner of Eddie's room. Something you had never noticed before. You step closer, not really caring if you alarm Eddie. It's something hot pink and very obviously a bra.
Your heart stills in your chest, as jealousy immediately crawls up your throat, burning you like acid. You have never felt such a jab to the stomach. You had not even contemplated him having a girlfriend or someone he was seeing. You turn to him, half-tempted to confront him.
He isn't paying any attention, his mind on fiddling with his work jumpsuit. When he does finally meet your eyes, they are welling with tears. It takes him off guard, looking around the room to see what could have caused such a visceral reaction.
You purse your lips, biting the inside of your cheeks. You suddenly remember how this ended before. You were all his until you weren't anymore, and someone else came along. It was not worth the argument.
You grab his bedroom door handle before the tears spill from your eyes. You practically sprint to the front door, scaring the living shit out of Wayne, who was asleep on the couch by the door.
You stumble out of the trailer, but before you can make it to the driver's side of your car, you hear Eddie coming after you.
"Wait," He calls out, his bare chest not covered by any sort of shirt. He was so taken aback by your sudden outburst. He starts to panic that he fucked up royally before he could even really prove to you that he wanted you back. "What's going on?"
"I need to leave," Is all you say, wiping your wet cheeks, "I shouldn't have come."
"Wait, wait, wait," He grabs your driver's door, almost forcing you to look at him and be honest. You don't know if he deserves it, but you feel cornered. "What happened? Did I do something?"
"The bra."
He looks at you, puzzled and trying to connect some sort of dots. The bra? The bra.
It was not what you thought, but it did look bad. He would admit that.
"Sweetheart, it's truly not what you think."
You scoff, shaking your head and flicking your keys between your fingers. "Never enough for you, huh?"
That's like a bullet to his chest. You had never gone after him like that before, and it completely throws him off balance. It aggravates him that you won't just listen to him.
But you did not owe him that. He has a track record, and you feel dumb for just going along with it because he made you feel special.
"You know that's not what-"
"Bullshit, Eddie," You get in your car, starting the engine and reaching for the door. He lets go, not wanting to get his fingers caught in an angry girl's car door frame. He stands there completely stunned and unsure what to do. He can't stop you from leaving, so he doesn't.
He watches as you pull out of his gravel driveway and speed down to the exit of the trailer park.
And you? You cannot help but cry in frustration. You felt so stupid. So easy.
Eddie Munson was the same guy you knew him to be.
He was losing his goddamn mind.
Work was hell for the next two days. He was half tempted to call out because he had managed to fuck up more than a handful of times because he has been moping around the shop like a lovesick puppy.
Maybe a grief-stricken, kicked and battered puppy.
He fucked up, again.
The night you two spent together plays through his mind over and over again. There was not a moment that went by that his stomach did not twist over the mere idea of you.
As he's doing a simple oil change, he thinks about the way you felt next to him on the couch. How easy it was to just sit with you and talk about life. You were the only girl he had ever been with who truly made him feel that he was heard. You didn't have to do much, sure, but your eyes reflected your interest in his sad little life.
And then he pours in the wrong motor oil. He realizes it as soon as his coworker Doug snatches the bottle away and eyes it curiously. He knew then, he could not live like this.
But how would he convince you that he had truly changed? His heart shifted the moment you made eyes at him at the grocery store. He had suppressed this shit for too long. Something needed to give.
On the third day of internal turmoil, his boss tells him that he can be the first one out the door today. It was only 1PM, and he knew that he was only doing this because the old man could read the room pretty well. He needed a day off.
But he says something before Eddie goes that triggers a light bulb in his head.
"You need to trim that hair, boy. Gettin' in your eyes. Probably why you keep fuckin' up lately."
Fate.
Not witchcraft. It was stupid fate.
Eddie turns to his boss with a wicked smile, punching out his card. "You're right. I should go get a cut, huh?"
The next couple of days at work were incredibly slow, and your brain was working overtime trying to find ways to stay busy. You were the only stylist in the salon who accepted random people off the street, so you pray every time someone walks by the big windows that they decide they need a perm or color.
By 3PM, you are ready to pack your purse and lunch box up and go home empty handed. Your back is turned to the door as the receptionist welcomes the patron.
It's like slow motion as you turn and see him standing there, looking all disheveled.
How did he know where you worked?
You told him at the grocery store weeks ago. He remembered. Shit.
"Can I help you, sir?" She asks Eddie as his eyes bore into yours. You wish you were just dreaming, and you could just wake up already.
What? He would humiliate you at work now, too? Was in private not enough?
"I need a trim. Do you accept walk-ins?" He asks, but he's not looking at the front desk girl, who's only trained to say hello, get payment, and offer a goodbye. He's staring directly at you. She looks between you two, somehow reading that this would be a situation you would take up.
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.
"We do, but not for assholes who-"
He steps towards you, eyes looking so sincere, you thought he might drop to his knees before you. He's never been so focused on you before.
"Please, sweetheart." His hands are at his sides, but they are twitching to touch you. To pull you in and beg in front of everyone. But he doesn’t move an inch, waiting for your move. "The bra was from one of my live shows at the Hideout. You know my band? Some random old lady threw it at me and I thought it was funny-"
"Stop talking."
"And I keep fuckin' up at work and I can't even do a simple oil change without thinking about your beautiful smile or the way your eyes light up-"
"Eddie."
"And I don't know why I kept the bra, okay? But I promise it's not anyone's. I am sorry, okay? I really like you, and I fucked this up so many times over-"
You put your hand over his mouth, cupping it so he can't speak anymore. You see out of the corner of your eye, the front desk girl and the hairdresser beside her, practically gawking at you two. You slowly drag Eddie to your chair, helping him sit down with his mouth still covered. You lean down, eye to eye with him.
"You really like me?" You whisper as you watch his eyes look glassy and desperate. He nods as you slowly remove your hand from his mouth.
"Yes, I really do. I don't want to fuck this up again."
Eddie's always been a pretty awful liar. He usually falters, starts to giggle, almost immediately giving himself away.
He doesn't waver once, saying it.
You swallow, asking yourself if you want to entertain this or not.
He was here, appealing to you like a man dejected and devastated. He had never done that before. Every single time he would hurt you before, he would leave you alone for months, never offering another thought.
But he's fucking here. At your work. In public. Pleading.
You suck in a harsh breath, your heart racing as you accept the inevitable.
"I do accept walk-ins," You declare, grabbing the back of the salon chair, "But I don't do men's haircuts."
A smile cracks across his face, "Well, I don't want a men's haircut. Just a trim off the old mop. Could be considered a ladies' cut, honestly."
You gather his hair to the back, watching him in the mirror as his eyes ease a bit as you tease him.
"Do you perm this thing?" You joke, knowing this is just the luck he has with his curly locks.
my main masterlist - eddie masterlist - series masterlist
previous chapter - next chapter
summary: it's time for a change. and spring break!
warnings: slow burn, 18+ mdni, mentions of shitty home life, talks of being poor, being kicked out, getting high, robin is bestie!!, jokes about 'walking into traffic', being caught kissing, grinding over pants, lots of making out, talking around the topic of sex, obsession with eddie's hands (again), teasing, jealousy, reader is onto robin's queerness (with NO judgement, of course), reader doesn't swim, light argument. saving some tags for spoilers, so tread lightly!
a/n: this chapter was quite fun to write. i love getting to the fluff of it all for you guys (; i have three more chapters planned out, with one including an eddie pov! i'm sorry for the delay in getting this out, i'm really trying. let me know your thoughts!
You finally had a day off.
It was a random Wednesday in mid-March. You and Eddie had spent the last couple of days building up excitement to spend an evening together without any interruptions. He didn’t have Hellfire or a performance at the Hideout; you didn’t have work. No expectations, just you two lying around in his bedroom and listening to random records.
You always grew up needing alone time. You vividly remember a time before Kacey was your best friend. You would tell your parents you did not have friends at school because you liked the silence when you were thinking. People too often spoke over you, disregarding your thoughts. Kacey was always good at speaking over you, too. You never felt heard or seen.
But with Eddie, you were all he saw. When you spoke up, he looked you dead in the eye and hung onto every word.
Hanging out with him never felt like a chore. It felt like a privilege, especially on the long days at work. You could knock on his door, covered in fry grease, and he would invite you in to hang out for 30 minutes. You would drone on about how much you didn’t make that night, and he would feed you ramen and listen intently.
You were lying flat on your back while he sat on his desk chair, picking away at his guitar strings. After a couple of hits from his joint, you were completely at ease. You had not made weed a regular thing whatsoever, but you did enjoy smoking with Eddie when the opportunity was presented.
His bed was never made, but you didn’t mind snuggling into his wrinkled sheets and throwing the light sheet over your lower half. His desk is scattered with notes about Dungeons and Dragons and random song lyrics he told himself he would eventually put together.
You drop the roach from between your fingers into an ashtray on his wooden side table, making sure the end is no longer burning.
Eddie strums his guitar, humming along to a song from the record of his choice. Metallica.
“I keep meaning to ask you,” He quips, shifting closer to poke you with his foot, “Did you want to come to the lake in a couple of weeks for Spring Break? It’s only three days.”
“Who’s all going?” You tilt your head to bring his wild hair into focus. Somehow, this guy was even hotter when you were high. His shirt is riding up a bit on his guitar, giving you a peek of his happy trail.
You lick your lips as he rattles his brain to think about the line-up of people.
“Gareth, Jeff, Grant, Grant’s cousin Tucker, and I think he’s bringing his girlfriend and her friend. Apparently,” He rolls his eyes just thinking about his next words. “The friend is into metalheads. She begged and pleaded to join the group.”
Your curiosity was piqued then. You sit up on your elbows, eyeing Eddie with careful precision. You knew you could always trust Eddie, but it seems as though he’s making this information very prominent. “So I have to go?”
He shakes his head, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I didn’t say that.”
You squint, “You are insinuating something.”
“I’m just saying if you don’t go, I will be a target for this random chick, and no matter how much I tell her I’m taken, she will be feral for me. Because,” He gestures to himself, “Look at me. I’m a hot commodity to weirdos like her.”
You sit up completely, crawling to the edge of the bed. This man could truly not be serious.
And by the look on his face, he’s absolutely reeling you in intentionally.
“I’ll go,” You bite, “Under one condition.”
He puts his guitar on the ground, his fingers sliding down the neck of the instrument with gentle ease. He treated that thing like it was a newborn baby. You teased him endlessly about it.
“What’s that?”
He’s leaning towards you now, his wheeled desk chair creaking as he does. Your proposition may be met with resistance from the other guys in the group, but not Eddie.
You grab the pilled collar of his Hellfire t-shirt, tempting him with a smirk. “I get to bring a friend, too.”
His eyebrows shoot up, knowing exactly where this is going. “You want to bring Robin?”
Robin and you had become close over the last month or so. You even spent time on the phone in your free time talking about school and your jobs. She worked with Steve Harrington so she always had plenty to talk about. The guy was a mess, and it brought some sick satisfaction to you knowing that the most popular guy in school last year was now fighting for his life working at a video store.
Nonetheless, she had become a pretty good friend, and you knew this would be a cool opportunity to hang out with her, too.
As you nod your response, you shift closer towards him. Your face is less than an inch from his when you inhale sharply and let out a long exhale. Eddie’s eyes light up a smidge, his lips curling upward. You smile back, knowing that he couldn't care less if you dragged someone else along, he just wanted you there.
“Fine with me,” He practically whispers, licking his lips. His hand ghosts over your hip on the edge of the bed, “I just want you there. Don’t need this random chick trying anything. God forbid she tries in front of my girl, ya’ know?”
My girl. Shit.
He had not said that word before. You were ‘baby’ or ‘sunshine’ to him most of the time. But he used that terminology before. It feels like needles are in your hands as your hands move closer to him.
You don’t say anything.
His vinyl skips as it feels like time starts moving in slow motion. The air thickens with that familiar tension that rises every time you are alone with Eddie like this. The shift makes your heart race and heat linger between your legs.
Your eyes trace between his lips and his eyes, a trick you learned in a teen magazine in middle school. An irresistible, enticing con that would win him over.
And of course it does. Because before you can respond with some sarcastic chirp, he’s pressing his newly wet lips to your somewhat dry mouth.
His hand tightens against your side. Your fingers flex on his collar and pull him closer, almost like he’s your next meal and you need a bite immediately. He’s practically falling out of the chair the moment you drag him on top of you, his knee falling between the spread of your legs. The chain from his belt weighs slaps down onto your thigh as his lips go from kissing your lips to eagerly peppering down your cheek, to your jawline.
You two have not gotten past this point. You were not entirely sure why you were so afraid of actually giving in, but you knew the moment he got too handsy, you would squeak and start giggling. And the second you do that, it’s almost like the moment is shattered, because he starts to giggle along with you.
His lips connect with your neck in that particular spot that sends shockwaves through every nerve ending in your body.
He groans into your skin, “Shit, you’re so beautiful.”
Instead of laughing, you sink yourself further into his bed. His navy blue linens always somehow smell like his citrus shampoo, which you don’t hate.
The moment you move against his leg, he pulls away from you, looking down at you like you just committed the most heinous crime ever.
Your eyes widen in response, afraid you did something wrong.
“Hmm?” You hum, almost too nervous to speak. Your mind races towards the worst-case scenario.
Did you touch him wrong? Should you move your hands from his shoulders? Was your lack of laughing off-putting for him?
“Did you wanna?” He clears his throat, his lips pursing as he moves his leg against your core, “I uh…”
You clear your throat, moving your hands down his biceps, “Eddie, I don’t know-”
He sits back on his knees, his thigh no longer making contact with your clothed pussy. It makes your mind go fuzzy, realizing how turned on you are in this moment.
Eddie begins frantically rubbing his hands over his face.
“No! Right, if you don’t wanna. Shit, I uh,” He rambles, looking around as if to choose an excuse to not push the subject. But his bloodshot eyes are blank, and there’s practically no thought behind them.
You grab his hand that moves up your thigh, halting it from going anywhere. While you are here, completely disregarding any sense in the situation, Eddie is overthinking every movement and breath. You two have completely switched attitudes, which makes you smirk a bit.
You pull it closer to your hip firmly, preventing him from shifting further, “Stop, I do. I wanna, I really do.”
His head snaps back to look at you, almost as if you were speaking another language. “You do… what exactly?”
That makes you giggle. You do want to do other things with Eddie. Your body has never felt more ready than in this moment.
Eddie’s touch radiates on your bare skin as you lick your lips. They taste like nicotine and the apple juice he drank when you two came home earlier.
“Wanna do other things.”
He smiles, his cheeks reddening with your words. It was always so sweet when you made Eddie all flustered and red. He was easy to rile up, and hinting at the fact that you actually did want to sleep with him only makes him more bemused.
“Shit, really?”
You reel him in closer, nodding your head at his dumbfounded response. You glance down his chest, seeing that you overextended the thread on his collar earlier, and now that it’s stretched, it reveals his collarbones. Your brain is just static as you listen to his shallow breathing.
Oh, to press your lips there.
Another nod. “Yeah, I just… haven’t done things… like that, in a while.”
He lingers closer to your face, tilting your face up towards his with a nudge of his nose, “That’s fine, yeah… Uh, me either.”
“We don’t have to right now,” You reply, ghosting your lips over his panting mouth that is glistening with your combined saliva. Those lips, so perfectly crafted by whatever God existed.
You wanted him. You did not know how this was even possible.
“I want to. I want to,” He confirms, dipping his head down to capture your lips. You expected an eager and hungry kiss, but instead you got a slightly timid and guarded peck, “I just wanna make sure you’re good.”
You lie back, pulling him back onto you. Lips colliding, tongues swirling. You assume that he wants you to show him how good you were. Your panties are wet, your mind is racing, and your mouth is just watering, looking at him on top of you. You are so, so good.
His lips don’t depart from yours immediately, only deepening as his knee kicks up closer to your covered core. When you continue grinding on him as he makes contact, he hums into your mouth before he retreats. “Maybe when we aren’t… high?”
You groan, discontent with the response he’s giving you. He’s being responsible, which, for Eddie, is rare. But it is frustrating to your hormonal brain. You knew that you wanted to be fully present for something this important, but you can only imagine how good it would feel to fuck him high.
For your own sober self’s sake, you nod in agreement, “Yeah, yeah, that makes total sense.”
His eyes flutter across to your slightly downturned lips, “I want it to be special for you, sweetheart. Our first time together should be… something notable.”
His husky voice is not helping, so you decide it’s best that you move away from pushing yourself down onto his leg. You are not doing yourself any favors.
You clear your throat, trying your best not to sound too disappointed. “That’s very kind of you, Eddie.”
Because he is thinking about your track record of overreacting and being melodramatic, which was very kind. But it’s still maddening the way his eyes are half-lidded and his lips are so tempting that you could scream.
“I’m a very kind guy.”
You cannot help yourself then, knowing that even if you don’t go all the way with him, you need a part of him to get by. “You’d be even kinder if you… moved your leg again.”
A playful glint passes over his deep brown eyes as he changes the load-bearing leg to rub against your inner thigh, “Yeah? You liked that?”
You lock your hands onto his shoulders, body melting back into a rhythm. “A lot. Yes.”
Every time you reflect on yourself from a year ago, you picture that girl grinding on any guy like this, and it’s borderline comical. You were not very interested in messing around then, let alone with your neighbor and resident weirdo, Eddie Munson.
But here you were, completely spent by the idea of him being between your legs.
“We can do that then,” He remarks, sounding like something is caught in his throat, “Just that.”
You tilt your head back, gasping like you are losing all the air in your lungs. The way your denim and his black jeans rub together is maddening to say the very least. You wrack your brain trying to think about a time your body was this reactive, and not one memory pops in your head.
Then again, you’re high. And the horniest you have ever felt. There’s something about the haze from the thin curtains hitting Eddie’s face makes him the prettiest he’s ever been, too.
“Mhm.. yeah, just that.”
He’s moving now. His body starts cowering down to mere centimeters above yours, and you cannot help but tug him closer. Before he can kiss you, you feel his bulge press against your pelvis. The touch is enough to send him into a moaning mess. His curls create a tunnel to your face as he lazily captures your lips. His mouth is completely open, his tongue awaiting your jaw to drop and allow him in again.
Your lips part, and he immediately pushes his wet tongue past your teeth. There’s no battle for dominance; you simply let him wander all around your mouth while you continue to rub yourself against him.
“God, yeah…”
As your voice trails off, you hear a door slam right outside Eddie’s door. You both freeze, lips still partially connected. Your hips still flush with his.
He’s the first to move, scrambling up from the bed and stalking over to the door. You assumed that Wayne would be working late, but maybe you thought wrong. He grabs the knob, slowly turning it and peeking outside the room.
You both let out a sigh of relief when you hear Wayne clear his throat and the familiar jingle of his keys.
“Wayne?” Eddie calls out into the dark hallway.
“Yeah?"
You both thought wrong. He was home.
“What are you doing home?”
The floor creaks with every one of his footsteps. From your position, you cannot see down the hallway. You just watch as Eddie shifts on his feet. Wayne’s arms come into view, holding a Chinese food takeout bag. “Was gonna go over on hours, so they sent me home. Stopped and got some of that sweet and sour chicken you like.”
You move from your spot, which causes the bed to creak. You see his head peer past Eddie’s shoulder, and suddenly you realize how compromising this entire situation is.
He looks between you and Eddie, letting out a long sigh. “Did I catch you two at a bad time?”
Eddie wastes no time in interjecting, “No-”
“No, Mr. Munson. We were just-”
“I was having her help me with the new campaign I’m working on, ‘is all.”
You swallow, trying to play along with Eddie’s excuse, but you knew practically nothing about Dungeons and Dragons. You also realize he’s crossing his legs, probably to disguise the pressing situation under his jeans. So you just make something up quick, “Yeah! Eddie was telling me about the dragon creature he was creating.”
“Really needed her opinion on that one,” Eddie’s voice cracks, grabbing onto the door to slowly push it closed. Like that would help.
Wayne’s face gives away that he’s totally not buying the story, but he just shakes his head and whispers something under his breath as he walks away. You cannot hear what he says, but Eddie sure does. His face is bright red as he turns back to you.
“What did he say?” You whisper, hastily standing up. You knew it couldn’t be good.
His Adam’s apple bobs, “As long as we are using protection.”
You slap your hand over your mouth.
He chokes out a harbored laugh. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you storm towards him, slapping his chest lightly for chuckling at something so embarrassing.
“Eddie! It’s not funny!”
He grabs your arms, completely disabling you from continuing your playful assault. “It’s not funny, it’s just… yeah, it is funny, actually.”
“I am going to walk into traffic,” You say, leaning forward and placing your forehead on Eddie’s pectoral, “I won’t be able to face that man again.”
Eddie presses a kiss to the top of your head, “It could be worse. He could’ve just walked in when you were begging me-”
“I’ll kill you with my bare hands, Munson.”
Another chuckle, “Fine, I’ll shut up.”
-
“Thanks for picking me up, nerds!”
Robin throws her bag in the van before she crawls up, making a grossed-out expression at the state of the back of Eddie’s backseat. She leans forward between you and Eddie’s bucket seats, biting her lip like she’s holding back a mean comment. Robin had no filter, and neither did Eddie.
“I know what you’re gonna say,” Eddie gripes, revving the engine to hint at her to shut the door.
She rolls her eyes, throwing herself across the seat to slam the door. “I’m not saying a goddamn thing, Munson.”
You turn yourself around to face her, scanning her outfit. Robin always joked that she was poor, but she always had about 15 articles of clothing on. You wondered if she just stole as many items as she could by just putting them on under her oversized jackets.
She was not a terrible dresser by any means; she just layered her clothing like she needed to cover up something.
“You know it’s like 70 degrees, right?” You laugh, eyeing her t-shirt and cropped cardigan. The weather was calling for transitional spring temperatures, which, to you, was exciting. You loved the winter months, but you were craving t-shirt-and-jeans weather.
She scrunches her nose at you while her hands make a frantic motion to find her seat belt, “I don’t like that tone, Brains.”
You giggle, pointing to the overextended strap near her arm.
“I don’t have a tone!” You defend, slapping the center console in defiance. Eddie pulls away from Robin’s house, turning his wheel sharply to make a U-turn in the middle of the street. His head snaps to make sure he’s clear both ways, and when his hair shifts on his shoulder, you catch the hickey you gave him the night before.
It makes your breath hitch, the bite mark too dark on his almost-pallid skin. Before you can move to hide it for him, he whips his head swivels to you, his curls becoming a curtain to shield it from prying eyes.
“You always have a tone, sweetheart,” He mumbles, shooting you a glaringly smug expression. Even when he was being a smartass, your urge to kiss him only grows stronger. You move your hand across to his face, playfully open hand slapping him in slow motion.
Robin clicks the seat belt at the same time you draw back a bit and aggressively pinch Eddie’s cheek. “Enough outta you.”
Robin fake gags, smacking your arm away from touching him any further. You do not remember when you became so touchy with him; it had to be within the last month or so. You did not care who was peering at you two; you would always grab him on his arm or leg. Or back. Or shoulder.
And he did the same. Maybe all of it was him rubbing off on you. Again.
Robin pulls you out of your blissful stare at Eddie’s side profile by asking you a question you had been hoping she would forget.
“Did you talk to your Mom about quitting the diner?”
It had been a conversation you and Robin had last week. She was telling you how desperate Family Video had been to find someone to work morning shifts on the weekends. When you had joked about quitting your job to help them out, she somehow excitedly transformed the conversation into convincing you to actually quit.
You weighed the pros and cons of the situation. Way more pros than cons, for sure. The pay was better. You would not work with your Mom. You would be able to work fewer nights.
The only real con was telling your Mom.
And a con it would be. When you brought it up after getting home from school yesterday, your Mom erupted into anger. She had been three beers deep since she did not have to work, and she did not need to take you.
It had been the first time in years that you stood up to her, really. When she told you that your paychecks would still be her’s, you told her you were not giving her every dime you made anymore. You were hardly home. Why were you having to pay the electric bill in full? When could she enjoy buying a pack of cigarettes a day? It was never an even trade off and you needed to save money to buy a car. Still.
That’s when it spiraled into her basically telling you to move out. Words were said that you could not take back. Things you had been aching to get off your chest since everything with your Dad. She had been using you just as much as he had been.
You were sick of it, and maybe it had been time for you to just leave.
You had nowhere to go besides Eddie’s house. You knew you were welcomed there.
So, you packed your bag. Both for the night, and for the long weekend trip to the lake. You headed over to his house, hearing your Mom loudly tell you how the locks would be changed when you got home from your ‘undeserved vacation’. You knew her slurred words would not be true. She could not afford a locksmith.
When you knocked on Eddie’s door, he and Wayne welcomed you in without hesitation. Wayne had made spaghetti and put on a stupid made-for-TV movie. When Eddie roped you into cuddling in his room, you spilled out everything. How Robin had convinced you to take a stand, how you actually did it, and it blew up in your face. How you were going to be homeless.
He didn’t say anything as you vented your fears. Your doubts. Your wild intrusive thoughts.
When you finally stopped rambling, he rubbed your shoulder and kissed your forehead.
“You can always stay here. I don’t mind taking the floor if it means you’re comfortable.”
Of course, you cried because you felt like a failure. You couldn’t even keep a roof over your head.
But somehow, Eddie was still there. Managing to always make you feel like it would be okay. He had your back. And you appreciated the comfort and reassurance he constantly brought you.
It scared you a bit, imagining living with him before you graduated high school. You felt more at home with him than your Mom’s house, sure, but usually guys and girls moved in with one another when they were expecting a baby or something. The rumors at school would fly if someone caught wind of it.
Would not be the first rumor of you two, you thought to yourself.
You fell asleep in his arms, not too long after you told him how grateful you were to have him.
Now here you sit in his van with your friend, hoping to God something good would come from agreeing to help her at her job.
You bite the inside of your cheek, nervous that somehow she would change her mind and not help you get the job. “Yeah, I quit the diner. Just let me know when I can come in for an interview.”
Robin excitedly squealed, slapping her thighs like it was a drum, “Keith will only ask you like three questions and give you a vest, I know it!"
Eddie shot you a look, his lips wiggling slightly into a smile. You breathe a sigh of relief, hearing her excitement.
It was like a silent confirmation. You were taking back a piece of yourself. Doing something for your benefit. No one else. And he would stick by you, no matter what.
-
The lake house is a large wooden cabin set right on the lake’s edge. It has four sprawling bedrooms and a huge central living space that could house at least three families. You and Robin marvel at the beauty together as the other guys unpack the cars. Coolers, duffle bags, and random instrument cases. You walk around the property with Robin, each of you ‘ooo-ing’ and ‘ahh-ing’ at every little detail.
They had a hot tub? Grant’s parents must be doctors or something because there is no way some normal family gets the privilege of having a hot tub at a lake house.
You two eventually make your way back inside, listening to the boys being rowdy in the living room. You all get introduced to Grant’s cousin and the girls he brought. Robin instantly locks up the moment the girl who you believed to be a friend of the girlfriend, extends her hand to her. It’s almost like she had never touched another person in her entire life. You try not to laugh as you all stand in a circle and Grant introduces everyone.
Tucker was a lot like Grant, which meant he was easy to talk to. His girlfriend, Olive, seemed quiet, unlike her friend.
The friend, Cara, was pretty and bubbly, to say the least. Long brown hair, freckles, and vibrant blue eyes. She looked like a brunette Malibu Barbie in all black. When you tell her your name, she repeats it and compliments you over and over again. Your hair. Your eyebrows. Your skin. Everything was ‘so beautiful’ to her. She had a deep, raspy voice, which was unexpected and only made her more attractive. It gave her words more gravity, somehow.
And the other guys noticed her. Gareth was practically tripping to help her get her bag from Tucker’s truck. Jeff just stared at her like she was some painting at the Louvre, precious and priceless.
You could tell Eddie was intentionally trying to dodge her, only introducing himself briefly. The moment she extended her hand to him, he turned away like he did not notice it and went to grab more stuff from the van.
As he does that, you learn that Cara, Robin, and you would be sharing a bunk room nearest to the bathroom, which was not the worst possible situation. You could at least grab first dibs on the shower in the morning.
Everyone dispersed to get settled. You throw the strap of your bag over your shoulder, but before you can take a step towards the open staircase, Eddie’s grabbing it and pulling you backward. He shimmies it off your arm and pulls you in with a quick grasp of your hip. Your back collides with his chest, and you let out an ‘oof’.
“You can always sneak off to my bed if you get lonely,” He murmurs, ghosting his mouth right above your ear. As he’s speaking, you see Robin and Cara pushing the bunk room’s door open and scrunching their noses.
“It smells weird in here!” Robin calls out, flicking the switch on the wall and stomping inside. You can hear her footfalls clear as day by the way the wooden floors crackle. There’s no sneaking around this place.
Cara tosses her head back to look down at you and Eddie, his arm locked possessively around you.
Much to your surprise, she smiles and winks at you. She walks in behind Robin, commenting about the smell, and you let out a long, dramatic sigh.
“Who are you rooming with?” You press, tucking your lip between your teeth. Were you seriously contemplating sleeping with Eddie? By the look on Cara and Robin’s faces, you were getting an unpleasant-smelling room, so what harm would it be if you slept next to your... other friend whose clothes lingered with the scent of fresh linen and cigarettes instead? Seems like a way better trade off.
“Gareth and I are rooming across the hall from you. Jeff and Grant are sharing, and Tucker gets a room with his girlfriend.”
You quirk an eyebrow, “Is yours a double or twin?”
“It’s a queen, baby.” You can hear his smile, and it sends your mind spinning. All the possibilities.
“Just keep your door unlocked,” You hum, rocking against his broad chest, “Maybe I’ll pop by.”
-
You did not expect it to be so warm in late March. It felt like late spring outside as the wind whipped through the slightly ajar window. Robin was pressed on ‘airing out the room’. The stench was there to stay; you knew that for sure.
After settling in the more-than-musty room, you and Robin change into your swimsuits to meet up with the guys by the pier. You throw on a random oversized t-shirt that has crackled writing across the chest and sandals. You never thought to buy a cover-up, so the three times too big t-shirt would do.
When you slip out of the room, Eddie and Gareth are already in the hallway in muscle tees and swim trunks.
They stop dead in their tracks, voices dampening the moment your eyes flicker down at their outfits.
Gareth’s swim trunks are light blue, which is a rare color for him to wear. Eddie’s wearing dark red swim trunks that hug his hips a little too tightly. You assume they must be an older pair, and he just never got around to buying anything that actually fits. The guy was not known for hanging by a pool in the summertime, anyway, so why would he need to invest in new shorts?
“What’s with that look?” Gareth immediately questions, putting his hands on his hips. Eddie’s eyes slowly trace your body down to your bare legs, which you try to ignore for the sake of your friends.
You shake your head reassuringly, knowing Gareth took your glance as a direct attack. You were just looking. You did not realize it came off pointed.
“Think she’s just surprised to see the two pastiest boys in Hawkins wearing swim trunks,” Robin comments, leaning her shoulder against the door frame. The girl never held back; you gave her that. Even if that was not the reason you were staring, it made you giggle.
In the seconds it takes for Gareth to take a breath and target his probably biting words towards her, everyone else comes pouring out of one room at the end of the hall.
They are all sporting their swim attire. The other guys wear multicolored swim trunks with button-ups that hang open, revealing their bare chests. Olive is wearing a cute white dress that only allows a peek at the purple one-piece underneath. Her long blonde hair is perfectly curled in place, and her blue eyeshadow is vibrant, almost like she walked out of a Seventeen magazine photoshoot.
Cara doesn’t have a cover-up on just some denim shorts and her black bikini top. Her tanned skin practically glistens due to the body glitter that she has rubbed all over her arms and chest.
They both looked like something out of every guy’s wet dream.
Then there’s you and Robin. Wearing baggy t-shirts and shorts with burn holes in them.
Cara catches Gareth’s eye, and he forgets what dimension he’s even in. Or that he was even in the midst of a conversation.
You smirk, shooting Robin a mutual eyeroll as the group moves towards the stairs. Gareth takes a spot next to Cara, making some random comment about looking like the princess from his D&D campaign. It was painfully awkward, so you chose to block it out and train your eyes on the wall next to Robin.
There are so many separate conversations bouncing off the walls that it’s overwhelming. You stay behind and watch as everyone excitedly moves through the house and out the front door to the waterfront. You don’t move from your spot quite yet, because there’s still one lingering presence nearby.
When you shoot a look at Eddie, he just smirks at your stationary position. Robin rolls off the door frame, taking the lead and moving towards the staircase like everyone else did. She probably assumed that Eddie’s eyes were just a bit too gooey for her liking, and some sort of mushy thing would happen between you two.
And she was right.
Because the moment he starts sauntering towards you with those big brown eyes, his head droops and his thumb skirts over your chin. No rings. No jewelry at all, you realize.
“I like this look, sweetheart.”
You look down at yourself as if you have forgotten what you put on. Your face heats up as Eddie’s thumb travels to your jawline.
“I don’t know if I like yours,” You admit, your voice hushed. Like it’s a secret you don’t want anyone else to hear.
His brows narrow, the creases in his forehead disappearing as he looks at you, “Why’s that? Not into my red swim trunks from 10th grade?”
You grab the hand he has resting on your chin, yanking it up and holding it centimeters from your face. You practically go completely cross-eyed looking at his bare fingers. “I miss your rings. And bracelets.”
When your eyes focus in on his face again, he has the softest smile displayed on his lips.
“Don’t wanna tarnish them, baby. ‘Specially not the matching ring.”
That makes total sense. You start to feel bad about wearing your necklace, but you do not anticipate on swimming, so it should be fine. Eddie's eyes flick down to it as his smirk grows across his face.
You hear Robin’s footsteps heavy on the steps as his words clip to silence. You seize the moment, pushing up on your feet and grabbing his neck, bringing him to your height. Your lips are on his in a second. You don’t know when you will get to do this again. You were not sure if you were ready to be this handsy in front of other people.
The lingering glance from him earlier made you practically feral, though. The feeling of his mouth on yours, his hands exploring your sides and waist, is intoxicating.
Kissing him now feels different after you both confirmed the desire for more. The passion is more rampant than it was before. His hands explore more, his lips move with more intent, and the sounds from his throat are louder.
It’s like a perfect harmony of a million love songs happening all at once when you kiss him.
He draws back first, and that’s when you realize Robin is shouting at you two from the bottom of the stairs.
“Stop sucking faces! I want to swim!”
The grin never leaves his face as his heavily lidded eyes scan you up and down, and his hands move up your back. “Let’s not keep Buckley waiting, hm?”
Your forehead falls against his shoulder so you can cover your huffing and puffing. You don’t want her to hear.
Eddie giggles before yelling, “Coming!”
-
“You and your boyfriend are quite cute.”
Her sultry voice in your ear catches you off guard. You practically jump off the edge of the dock in surprise before you realize what’s happening. Cara crawls beside you, matching your position and putting her feet in the water.
“What?” You mutter, your gaze snapping over to her as she leans back on her palms. She smirks as she lazily drifts her head back.
“You and Eddie. He’s your boyfriend, right?”
In unison with her words, you hear yelling and splashing nearby. The boys had already started playing chicken in the lake. Eddie has Gareth on his shoulders, but the wet mop that is his hair is completely throwing them off their game. He’s walking around aimlessly as his brown curls stick to his eyelids. Gareth won’t stop yelling at him for being too wobbly.
You cannot hide your smile at him.
“Ooo girl, you’re in love, too.” Her voice is mumbled, but you catch what she’s saying and immediately tense up.
Love. That word was more than intimidating when it came to defining anything in your life.
You wanted to love. You wanted to feel loved. But all your life, most of the people you knew did not express such things. No hugs goodbyes. No ‘I love you’s’ before bedtime. No ‘drive safe’ when you left the house.
The only time you felt truly seen was with Eddie. And sometimes it was like he saw right through you.
Maybe that was love, and you had never really experienced it before.
You finally look back at Cara, the girl you hardly knew, who sent your mind reeling. “Why do you say that?”
Her smile brightened at your question.
“That’s the kinda look you only really ever see in movies, darlin’. I have seen it up close maybe twice before,” She looks back out on the water, her eyes trailing across all the boys. You scan her up and down to spot an insincerity within her body language, but she’s so even and composed.
You don’t have the chance to say anything back because Robin comes back with the beers you told her to go grab. She stands over you and Cara, her eyes locked onto the brunette’s tanned arms.
“B-beer?” Robin manages, holding the glass bottle out to you. You grab it without saying anything, your mind spinning as your eyes pin down Eddie as he flips Gareth off his back. You can tell he’s a bit annoyed by the scrunch of his face.
You take a swig of the golden liquid as his eyes meet yours. His expression softens slightly before he begins the swim over to the dock you have been held up on since everyone got outside a couple of hours ago.
Cara playfully nudges you when Eddie’s about 20 feet away from your hanging legs, which causes you to look at her with a confused expression. “He’s got the same eyes for you, by the way.”
Eddie’s hand meets your thigh, splashing water onto you instantly. You flinch at how cold it feels and slosh your beer onto Robin’s shorts.
Eddie laughs at the mistake. Robin groans in annoyance at your clumsiness. Cara gets up straightaway to offer a helping hand to Robin, who stutters at her recommendation to throw the shorts in the washer. They get up together, walking down the dock with their bare feet slapping against the wood.
Cara rambling on as Robin gawks at her like a lost puppy. If you didn’t know any different, you would think Robin has a crush.
While the chaos surrounds you, you are biting the inside of your cheeks and actively avoiding Eddie’s gaze. He notes your dodging because he dramatically flings himself back in forth in front of you.
“Did I piss you off?” He inquires, his cold hand returning to the meat of your thigh.
You finally glimpse down at him. And you feel it.
It’s only ever happened with Eddie.
The trained gaze on his face is like he is trying to memorize every aspect of your face. The racing of your heart when he smiles at something you said. You sometimes feel tingling in your hands and feet or hear buzzing in your ears when he touches you a certain way.
It’s the same feeling every time. Like an adrenaline rush that feels like you are about to jump off a tall pier into frigid waters on a scorching hot day. Exciting and relieving, but also terrifying.
“No, baby, you didn’t.” You mumble, trying to reassure him. As much as you try, you are not good at being nonchalant.
He swims to the spot where Cara was just sitting and uses all his upper body strength to pull himself up onto the dock. The water rushes off his body as he plops down wetly onto the rotting wooden boards.
He’s dripping water all over you, but you don’t care that much. The only reason you flinched earlier was because he caught you by surprise when you were pondering if Cara was right, and you were in love with him.
“What did Cara say that’s got you all weird?"
Your neck almost snaps with how quickly you peer over at him, “How do you know Cara said something?”
“'Cause she whispered in your ear when I was swimming over.”
Make up something. Quick.
“It was something about guys with tattoos,” You lie, not able to look at Eddie in the eyes as you say it. You train your gaze on his bat tattoo on his arm. To add to your statement and make it more believable, you press your pointer finger into the black ink, “I said I never really went for guys with them, but just ended up with a guy with a lot.”
His face contorts in confusion as you leave goosebumps on his arm with your touch, “Just ended up with a guy, huh?”
He can always see through you.
You flutter your lashes, trying to evade more of his questioning, “Yep, he kinda just fell into my lap.”
You don’t expect him to lean towards you, mere centimeters from your face, to simply respond.
“We talked about this, sweetness.”
“What?” You immediately respond.
“No lying.”
He’s got you pinned. The smile on his face does not let up as he purses his lips to kiss yours. It throws you off balance for a moment, feeling his cold lips against your beer-flavored ones.
You pull away, tucking your lip between your teeth, “What’s a little white lie, Eddie?”
His eyebrows shoot up, surprised that you are immediately admitting to your schtick.
“So you are lying.”
“I’m fabricating what she said for idiosyncratic reasons.”
You decide to frame it in a more complex way, so maybe he would get distracted by the complete fluff of words and move on from the subject. You did not need to admit to him that you were deconstructing the idea of being in love with him.
“Don’t use those big SAT words against me,” He retaliates, sitting back on his palms like Cara did before she escaped with Robin. His swim trunks are starting to hang lower as he shifts over the planks, and it promptly becomes the only thing your brain can think about for a minute.
You manage a smile, trying to look indifferent. “It was nothing. Promise.”
He tilts towards you, letting his curls dribble droplets onto your shoulder, “Was she objectifying me?”
Of course, he thought you were talking about him. And though he was right about the topic being him, it was not talking about how erotic he looked in the water as he gripped onto Gareth’s calves, showing off his muscles.
Cara was not objectifying him, but you surely were.
And that was not the topic of conversation, anyway.
“Jesus, Eddie, no.”
You can tell by the tick of his jaw that he’s growing impatient, and you have done nothing to curb his desire to know things. “Then what was it?”
You’re not ready for this conversation, as much as you would like to unpack it. What if he didn’t feel as strongly about you? What if what you’re experiencing isn’t love but just unadulterated lust that disguised itself as affection? There was too much stuff to weigh, and you did not want him to push it.
“Let it go.”
It comes out clipped and hasty as you just crave silence for a brief second. Between the splashing of water, the yelling, and the nagging, you become sorely overwhelmed.
But Eddie is unwavering with his mission to get something out of you, “Come on-”
“I said let it go!” You snap, putting your beer down beside you and using both of your free hands to push up and stand. Eddie watches you with an expression that is similar to a kicked and wounded puppy.
You sigh as you pick up your beer, tapping your nails against the neck of the bottle. Eddie does not look away from you, even when Grant and Jeff yell from the shore for him to come help grill the hot dogs.
“Look, it’s nothing you gotta worry about, okay? If it were that important, I would have told you. It was just…” You stop, carefully thinking of your next words, “Girl talk.”
You expect him to just nod and accept your words, but he flexes forward and stands up in front of you. His body language is guarded instead of accepting. The sun setting over the water still highlights his dark brown eyes as he peers down at you.
“If it wasn’t important, you wouldn’t have lied about it.”
The gust of wind he leaves behind as he brushes past you gives you chills. Maybe it was that and his words. Cold and unanticipated. You stand there with your back to the beach as Gareth remarks something about everyone being hungry to Eddie when he gets to the end of the dock.
You don’t move, you just stare out over the lake, swirling the beer you had left in the bottle. Silently wishing you had more so you could drink away the stabbing feeling in the pit of your stomach.
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summary: school acceptance letters. confrontations. spiraling. oh, and eddie kisses you now!
warnings: slow burn, 18+ mdni, mentions of shitty parents (yet again), mentions of healing wounds, talks of vomit, smoking (of the mary jane sort), being high, smarty pants reader, kissing, and a tiny bit of sexual tension (ha we are getting there). omitting some tags to prevent spoilers, so tread lightly!
a/n: it's been over a month... my apologies! september was a nightmare just like august was! thank you for sticking by and waiting on me! i appreciate the love this fic gets. please leave me your thoughts! i will try to be better about updating <3
The radio informs you that all of Hawkins is shut down. It was a snow day. School is cancelled.
The blanket of cold, fluffy snowflakes was about 3 feet tall by morning, and you could hardly make it out of your house. Your heater was working overtime, and you were still wearing three layers.
Your Mom never made it home last night. You assumed she got stuck at the diner, so calling her was the only way to make sure. You were not particularly worried about her, since this had happened before. She would just stay overnight at the diner and wait until the roads were plowed. But after everything with your Dad, you needed to be sure she was safe.
When you picked up the house phone on the wall, the line was dead. Someone forgot to pay a bill.
But you know someone who had a house phone, and you’re almost positive he would let you use it.
You get on your snow pants and too-small-for-your-adult-feet snow boots and trudge through the mountains of snow. The town’s plows would be around midday probably. You knew after living in Forest Hills your entire life that it was always the last to get attention like that.
It takes you five minutes to walk across the street when it usually takes you 30 seconds. The moment you get beside Eddie’s half-buried van, you prop your hand on the window and take a couple of shallow breaths. It was like a workout trekking through the mountains of packed snow.
You manage to swipe Eddie’s walk-up steps with your foot before knocking on the door.
Wayne opens the door, his eyes wide in surprise that you are already back over here. The look on his face reminds you a lot of Eddie, which makes you giggle. They shared some common features and apparently, some facial expressions.
“Hey there,” He remarks, opening the door slowly for you. You take that as your invitation in, so you kick off your suffocating boots and slip off your water resistant pants, still having two layers of pants on under. You walk inside, inhaling the much warmer air of their trailer.
“Sorry to barge in, I just-”
“Hey, sweetheart,” His voice is husky and laced with sleep still, cutting you off mid-sentence. You turn to your left, seeing him sauntering down the hallway, all bruised and battered, but shirtless. His pajama pants sit low, right below his tummy, and you swear you forgot how to breathe.
You hadn’t seen that stomach in months. And it’s just as jarring as before.
You need to speak. You cannot make it obvious that he’s driving your mind into overdrive by being shirtless. Especially because Wayne is right there next to you.
“Hi,” You say, your voice small, “I just need to borrow your phone. My mom didn’t come home last night.”
Eddie’s foot falls are heavy against his trailer floor, so much so that you are afraid he may fall through the subfloor. The phone is positioned right on the wall near the kitchen, so he grabs it off the hook and places it against his ear. You are like a feral woman watching his arm flex and his right pectoral twitch. You can tell by the smile creeping across his face that he knows you are staring. With the phone still up to his ear, his other hand raises towards your face. He taps your cold, wet nose with his pointer finger.
“Lookin’ at something, baby?”
Your brain goes blank at the nickname. Even if he had called you that the day before, it still rattles your bones. You are no longer just his sunshine.
You stand there, shoulders tense, eyes wide and pleading. The first thing that comes to mind in response is ‘damn, his eye looks worse than it did last night.’
So that’s what comes out.
“Your eye looks worse today.”
He recoils at your comment, his hand resting on his bare chest in offense. Wayne just snickers behind you, finding a spot on the springy couch nearby.
“I iced it after you left last night. It throbbed all night,” He admits, placing the phone back on the hook. You step towards him, getting out of Wayne’s eyeline and finally touching his face with gentle ease.
“Did you take anything for the pain?” Your fingers graze his cheek, down to his stubbly chin. He shakes his head, his lips moving in contemplation. You, of course, do not like this response. You somehow knew he would be stubborn about healing, so just when you mutter his name to reprimand him, he grabs your waist.
“I thought you came here to use my phone, not play nurse?”
You pinch his chin, trying your very best not to crack a smile, “I’m an excellent multitasker, Munson.”
When he scrunches his face, you can tell it hurts him. Your brows raise, almost to say, “See, dumbass, you need pain relief.”
He takes the bait the moment you make a face, “Fine, I’ll smoke some and it’ll ease the pain.”
You smile then, releasing his face and grabbing the phone from off the hook and placing it between your ear and your shoulder. Eddie watches from right beside you, his head tilting against the yellowing walls, smirking at your now serious expression. You dial the diner's number. It rings twice before the cook picks up.
“Hey Kevin, is my Mom there?”
A grunt before a gruff, “Yeah, she stayed overnight with Sharon. Need to talk to her?”
You did, but you did not think it was the right time to break the news to her. She’s probably already pissed off and annoyed having to sleep in a booth at the diner overnight because of how bad the roads were, so you just clear your throat and accept the idea of a conversation for later. “No, I’ll talk to her when she gets home. Thanks, see you later.”
He hangs up without saying goodbye.
Eddie moves to grab the phone from you, his bruised fingers brushing your cheek. “She good?”
With a small jerk of your head, you mutter a zipped, “Yeah.”
You watch as Wayne stomps into the kitchen, sipping on his coffee from a mug that reads 'Indianapolis' Tractor Trailer Rodeo, 1975'. You had no clue what that even meant. You wouldn't ask.
He moves towards the fridge near where you and Eddie are holed up. “You two want some eggs?”
Eddie’s quick to respond before you could politely decline Wayne’s hospitality. “That’d be great, Wayne. Sweets likes them scrambled with cheese.”
“Eddie-”
“‘M gonna go get a shirt on. You wanna tag along for the journey?”
You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, eyes drawing back down over his creamy white skin. Another grin. Another dry heave of air leaves your lips. “Go. I’m sick of looking at you half-naked.”
“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart.”
-
You had not seen your Dad in over a month. Much to your Mother’s chagrin.
You had no clue where he was. Where he was staying. He was just gone.
You knew she would blame you, but instead of raging about how you drove him away by telling him to not come back, she forced you to work extra long hours to pay half the bills. By the time you got home from work some nights, you had a good four hours to sleep before you were waking up to catch a ride with Eddie to school.
And all your tips? They were your Mom’s. The idea of getting your own car was a pipe dream at this point. All your time was spent at school or slaving for pennies to give to your Mom.
This also meant that you only really saw Eddie at school.
Which, that dynamic changed a lot. But not as much as you thought it would.
It was still slow-moving.
Every morning, Eddie would open the passenger side door for you and upon entry of his van, you would give him a quick peck on the lips. It never failed to make your stomach twist with butterflies, feeling him against you like that. He would shut your door with a huge smile on his face and it made your heart swell. He had this pull to him now that he didn’t have before.
You looked forward to those morning kisses, all tasting like cigarettes and toothpaste.
His face had healed well, with only a small scar residing on his cheek. You hate to think he has to look in the mirror every day and think about that fateful day. His scars were obvious, while yours were more internal. Still painful, with nothing to show for.
“They make me look tough, baby.” He would tell you.
On the way to school, he would hold your hand or tap your thigh to the beat of some song he was singing. You mostly stayed quiet while he droned on about a new record, Corroded Coffin, or the campaign he was planning for Hellfire. All things you couldn’t really add commentary on, so you just listened. Nodding. Smiling.
You loved listening to him, truly.
-
On a night you got off work earlier, he called you the moment you got out of the shower, like he somehow knew your exact movements. He asked if you wanted to smoke with him. You agreed to it. And in between discussions about life, your hopes, his dreams, you stole some occasional kisses. He lazily smiled after every one, eyes dreamily dancing around your face.
You two had not gotten far when it came to intimacy. It’s not that you didn’t want to, per se. Neither of you had initiated anything. You didn’t really know how, and Eddie seemed just fine peppering you with kisses and the occasional bear hug.
You ended up dozing off wrapped in one of his blankets. Between the lack of sleep you had been enduring the last month and a half and the amazing high you got from Eddie’s joint, you had no qualms about stealing his bed. He took a spot on the floor next to you, arm still propped up against the bed frame so his hand was close to yours. You woke up in the middle of the night in a slight panic. You look down, seeing him lying on his back, eyes fluttering shut. You surprisingly retreated back onto the flat pillow under you once your heart stopped racing. He looked so soft and peaceful, you did not want to stir him awake by creeping out of his house. So instead, you fell asleep watching his chest rise and fall.
But you did reiterate the next morning on the way to school that it would not be a recurring theme, due to the fact that your Mom would chew you out for not making it home when she told you to. He just shrugged, telling you that you were always welcome to steal his bed.
You loved the idea of being so close to him. You thought about how you felt more comfortable in his bed than your own bed with the heater next to it. It hardly kept your room at 70 degrees. Eddie’s trailer always felt warmer, more welcoming. And he was there, which only added to the appeal.
Everything at school seemed good. Normal. You even occasionally chatted with Robin in the library or the hallways. You could see how Eddie befriended her in class because neither of them really shuts up. It was always a battle to see who got the sarcastic quip out first. She usually took over the conversation with you, but you were more than happy to hear her talk about random things if it meant you did not have to be alone.
Robin was nice. You feel slightly guilty for thinking she was trying to get with Eddie.
Some days, Kacey would occasionally shoot you looks in the hallway. You did not feel the pang of shame you used to when her eyes met yours. You would sometimes even offer her a smile, trying your best to just move on from that part of your life. You wished there was more closure there, but you settled with the fact that everything happens for a reason.
But the life was completely gone from her sunken eyes. You could tell everything was starting to catch up with her when one day at lunch, she practically threw up her entire breakfast and lunch in front of everyone. It was embarrassing, and you could tell by the way she was spiriting into the hallway that she would never want to show her face to anyone ever again.
You know you would not.
As Eddie walked you to your locker to grab your math textbook after lunch, she stood by the main office door all alone, arms wrapped around herself. You caught her eyes in the midst of listening to Eddie drone on about how Hellfire would probably run late tonight, but he would stay up if you wanted to stop over after work.
You don’t respond, too focused on watching Kacey practically drag herself towards you.
She was a walking disaster, and you could not help but pity her.
“Hey,” She whispers, her voice still gruff from how raw her throat probably was. Eddie shifted into a protective stance near you, ready to step in at any moment. Always the protector.
You don’t know what to say to her, trying to gauge if she wants to fight you or actually talk to you like she used to. Her shoulders sag, her eyes half-lidded and bloodshot, and her knees practically shook like she was the only one experiencing an earthquake.
She did not want to fight.
“Are you okay?” You ask simply, scanning her as you tuck your textbook into the crook of your arm.
“My mom is coming to get me,” She croaks, shutting her eyes as if to hold back tears, “She’s sending me to live with my aunt in Missouri. Said that this is the last straw.”
You feel for her. Even though she fucked up. Even though you had to witness her humiliate herself. She had truly lost herself. All for her stupid boyfriend, who did not even check to see if she was okay after she got sick. She was not the same girl you had countless sleepovers with. The girl who was not the greatest friend, but was still there for all your pivotal moments in school. Your only friend.
You nod, moving your lips between your teeth. “I hope you can get better.”
For the first time in a long time, you see a sliver of your Kacey again.
“Yeah, me too,” She mutters, a small smirk playing on her face as she looks between you and Eddie. He’s much taller than her, so she has to look up at him. “I hope you two are happy. Genuinely.”
Eddie’s hand trails across your lower back, his fingers digging into the fabric of your sweatshirt. He clears his throat, “Good luck with everything, Kacey.”
An olive branch. Between your old life and your new one.
-
Today was Valentine’s Day.
You had not thought to do anything for Eddie, and you knew with his counter-culture mentality, he was not going to do anything special for you. You two had not made things actually official. There was no real conversation, just a mutual understanding that whatever was happening between you two was just… new and blossoming. You held hands on occasion in the car, and he kissed you in the privacy of his home. His usual grand gestures were buying you a gas station breakfast and lotto tickets. And that was enough for you.
After second period, you run into Robin and she asks if you were free on Friday. You two walk as you explain how you had to work and pray that the diner would just explode so you never had to set foot in it again. She laughs, falling into step beside you as she blabs on and on about how she wants you to come to her band concert. It makes you smile to think she thought of you.
You head to Eddie’s locker, like usual, where he’s waiting for you with Gareth and Jeff. You and Robin immediately stop laughing and carrying on the moment he pulls a single rose out of his locker, the petals wilting slightly. He gestures it towards you.
The swarm of people trying to get to lunch seems to move in slow motion as your eyes meet his. You can feel Robin stiffen next to you. She knew you and Eddie were friends, but this made it clear that it was more. You keep your fingers curled at your sides. “What’s this for?”
You shoot Gareth a look, but he’s just as shocked as you. His brows are hidden behind his curls, and his eyes practically bug out of the sockets.
Eddie shifts, drawing your attention back. You feel everyone’s eyes burning into the back of your head as you accept the rose, a small smile on your face.
“Happy V-day, pretty girl.”
Now he’s offering you flowers in front of half of the senior class?
Your lip twitches, “You didn’t have to get me anything.
His mouth flattens into somewhat of a smirk.
“I knew you’d say that,” He hums, his voice a bit raspy, “But I wanted to anyway.”
Robin looks between you two before snapping her fingers and shooting finger guns towards you specifically. “You two are adorable, I’m gonna go. Catch you later, brains.”
She scurries away like she saw something she shouldn’t have, your eyes trailing her down the hallway as she meets up with some band kids. You finally look back at Eddie, whose lips are now turned upward.
“Brains?”
“I gave her my notes for Bio and she told me it was like reading Mandarin,” You explain, laying the prickly rose on the notebook you had tucked in your arm, “So, she started calling me ‘Brains’.”
He wraps his arm around your shoulder, languidly dropping the weight across you as he guides you down the hall. “My nicknames for you are a lot better.”
Cutting through the crowd of people, you become hyper-aware of people watching you two. Eddie leads his pack of outcasts with you at his side. If someone had told you last year about such a sight, you would of laughed in their faces.
When you finally take a seat at your usual seat next to Eddie and Gareth, you tune into a conversation at a table over. A girl from your English class, Reagan, is talking to her friend about her acceptance letter for Northwestern coming in the mail. She excitedly recounts the exact wording in the letter, and your stomach twists. If she got hers, you had to have one waiting in your mailbox.
In the midst of contemplation about the whirlwind emotions of getting accepted into the school of your dreams, you don’t even realize that you have been twirling your necklace around your finger.
Your eyes are glued to Reagan’s sweater-clad back as your finger goes bright red. Eddie waves his ringed hands in front of you, trying to draw your attention to him.
“What’s with the blank stare? It’s giving,” He snaps his fingers in Gareth’s face, almost to withdraw thoughts from the guy’s mind, “Stephen King character, shit…”
“Kujo?”
You roll your eyes towards Gareth, hitting him in the bicep.
“Fuck you,” You snort, not taking any real offense to it. You probably looked insane thinking so intensely, glued to the thread count of the hideous, bright pink sweater Reagan was wearing.
Gareth lets out a guarded giggle, rubbing the spot you just punched while Eddie still snaps towards him, almost to will the name into his brain.
“Carrie!” Eddie practically yells, slamming his hand on the table, “Telekinesis chick.”
You narrow your eyes at him, “I look like Sissy Spacek?”
The jolt that rattles his head breaks the annoyed look you display. You smile as his voice rises in confusion, “Her name is Sissy?”
You laugh, he doesn’t.
“You don’t look like her. Just the expression!” He explains, trying to save himself from the way you usually sigh at him when he tries to over-explain things.
“Sissy Spacek is hot,” Grant cuts in, shoveling his cafeteria pizza into his mouth. You look away, knowing you hated it when people stared at you while you ate. Most of the time, these boys ate like babies who don’t have hand-eye coordination yet, missing their mouths at every chance.
You will yourself to look to Jeff, who’s nodding in agreement.
“She’s got a lot of freckles,” He comments back.
Then Gareth chimes in, “Does that make her ugly?”
“No, makes her way hotter,” Jeff defends, his hands up in surrender.
You tune the rest of it out as you meet Eddie’s curious stare. He leans towards you, hand resting on the crease of your elbow. Your half-sleeve shirt allows him to touch your skin, which immediately makes the hair on your arms stand up. “Seriously, you okay?”
“Just deep in thought,” You lie, grabbing the red gem wrapped around your neck. You don’t know why you don’t just tell him. “You know me.”
He leans closer. You catch a sparkle of gold in his deep brown eyes as he whispers, “Yeah, I do. I like knowing you.”
-
Eddie keeps you lingering in his driveway for a bit after school. You twirl the rose he gave you in your hand, and he cannot dare peel his eyes away from you as you ramble about a shitty test you had to take last period.
“Well, I must retreat into my palace, darling girl. I have to get my notes situated for Hellfire tonight,” He admits, pulling you in by your waist. His head dips, his curls creating a tunnel straight to his face. You giggle at his animated gestures and playful voice, “I shall see you thenceforward?”
Your nose bumps his as you get closer, “Thenceforward? Now you’re just making up words, Munson.”
“Nuh uh,” He badgers, squeezing your sides, “I read it somewhere. No doubt.”
“I have doubts.”
“Well, you are wrong. It’s a word. A very big and broad, and forthcoming adverb.”
You roll your eyes, pressing a peck to his rambling mouth, “Proud of you for knowing what an adverb is.”
He smiles, eyes heavy as he stares at your lips. He never fails to bring butterflies to your stomach. “Yeah, haven’t been missing school lately. This girl I really like has been relying on me to get her to school, so I can’t miss class.”
“What a needy bitch,” You jokingly scoff, appearing to be annoyed at his words. His hands get tighter around you. You can feel yourself getting more eager for his touch.
His eyes flutter before pressing another kiss to your awaiting lips, “She’s cute, so it’s okay. Her and her perfect attendance.”
You flippantly push him away, but his hands almost don’t release your waist. He cannot stop smiling at you as you raise your middle finger at him and walk backwards towards the end of the gravel. “See you tomorrow, dork.”
“Tomorrow, my dear!”
You spin on the balls of your feet and head across the road. The moment your eyes land on your mailbox, you remember.
Your letter.
You jog to the box, pulling it open and flipping through all the envelopes. When you spot the familiar font of the college of your dreams on the top of the rigid white packet, you sprint to the wooden steps that lead up to your house. You glance across the street, but Eddie’s already gone inside.
You wanted this moment to be something only you experienced, anyway. Not with your parents. Not with a friend. Not even with Eddie.
You sit on your front porch, tossing the other junk mail next to you. You gently place the rose on top, balancing it so it wouldn’t roll away.
You take your time, savoring every second of opening the letter like it’s the free ticket to get out of Hawkins. You peel back the stickiness and slowly remove the crisp letter inside.
Long inhale, short exhale.
“To whom it may concern,
We at Northwestern University regret to inform you of our decision to…”
You fold the paper back up, unable to read further.
You knew what it was going to say.
The disappointment that floods your entire body is completely cataclysmic. You have never actively felt the weight of the world on you, but you sure did when it got overwhelmingly heavier.
You try to ease the burden by exhaling a long breath, but it sits in your stomach like an unmovable boulder.
Your body goes into autopilot after that. You somehow get ready for work. Ride in the car with your Mom as she rants about the price of milk and eggs going up. You then serve 3 customers and sit at the diner counter with your head in your hands.
You feel as if you are outside of yourself. Like a ghost haunting the spaces you walk through. You cannot muster up even a fake smile.
It felt as though time had been standing still.
You would not get out of here. You had failed. Again.
-
The next day at school, you managed to tune out everything happening around you. Eddie notes your quietness today, but by the way he’s hardly spoken to you, he probably does not want to press anything. He just silently taps your knee with his fingertips under the lunch table, while you are consumed with the overwhelming sense to bawl your eyes out.
The guys talk about the campaign last night. You hear Eddie cut off every question when you try to pick up the bits of conversation. Trying to distract yourself for a minute. The guys try to pry some information out of him about goblins. Or demons. You have no real concept of the game or what it consists of, and your brain is too muddle to mock up any real care or interest in their conversation.
Then your body has a visceral reaction seeing Reagan sit down in front of you, her smile bright. It almost makes you angry watching her being happy. She got in, and you didn’t. How?
You feel as if you have failed yourself. You tried to get ahead, and yet you still fell behind.
You told yourself not to get attached to Eddie, now here you are, practically his. Sitting at his table, listening to his friends rant and ramble about shit you didn’t care about, wearing a necklace he bought you. He marked you and everything. He has practically consumed your entire being.
Maybe you truly had no clue who you even were. This didn’t feel like you.
The old you, at least.
The one who would’ve done anything to find an escape from the hell she felt stuck in.
You could have just poured more of yourself into other social clubs and academics, and maybe Northwestern could have accepted you.
You had been so distracted. Between Kacey. Your parents. Eddie.
But as you ponder more, you think about the fact that Northwestern looked at everything from your high school career. Not just the last couple of months.
They looked at your half-assed attempts at getting into clubs sophomore year. The extracurriculars that you gave up on when Kacey got bored, and you did not want to be alone. Your excellent grades could only get you so far. You like to think you tried your best, but the other years of your schooling were lacking substance, and they needed dynamic people.
You weren’t enough.
You were incapable of having any sort of luck. School. Friendships. Jobs. Hell, even your car gave up before you could even get kick-started on getting it fixed.
And maybe that’s all it had ever been for everyone else. Luck.
It was obvious you were lacking in that department.
Before you can even stop yourself from an all-out spiral, Eddie’s hand lands on top of yours.
“Hey, take a walk with me,” He’s pulling you up out of your seat before you can even respond. You want to resist, press him with questions, but instead you just throw your backpack over your shoulder and walk in step with him.
His eyes are reflecting an unspoken worry. You always thought the guy could read your mind, and maybe he finally did. Or maybe you are truly awful at disguising your emotions.
He tucks you up under his arm and guides you to the door that leads to the school’s courtyard. The moment the cold air hits your face, your eyes prick with tears.
No one comes to the courtyard in mid-February, luckily. Still too cold in Indiana.
He walks you to a giant oak tree, right on the cusp of the sidewalk, and stops dead. “What’s going on? You’re…”
“I didn’t get into Northwestern.”
His face pales.
Then the tears slip from your eyes.
“What?”
You can’t even reiterate your sentence because the overwhelming anxiety kicks in and closes your throat. You cannot even heave a sigh; instead, you just throw your hands over your face. It’s truly humiliating.
He lets go of you, only to grab your shoulders and reposition you in front of his shielding body. “Talk to me, sweetheart-”
“I got my letter and they said they didn’t fuckin’ want me, Eddie! They said I’m not good enough cause I never fuckin’ am! Okay? They don’t want me, just like no one wants me! I.. I don’t even want me!”
You have never said it out loud. The disorienting reality that you were unwanted by even yourself.
You finally breathe out, but it comes out as a hiccup. You start grabbing Eddie’s hands from your arms and pushing them off, feeling like the world was crushing you and you could not catch a breath. “You don’t want me. You don’t.”
Eddie’s head swivels, almost to see if you were talking to someone else. By the expression on his face, he’s flabbergasted. “What are you talking about? Sunshine-”
“No!” You yell, your voice crackling a bit.
Your stomach is rolling. Your throat gets tighter.
You don’t want to hear anything else from him, but the moment you cut in, he does it right back to you.
“Yes! Yes, I do,” He presses, getting in your space again, “I do want you. I have wanted you for a long time.”
You put your hand on your forehead, feeling it getting hot, “You don’t even know who I am! I don’t even know me!”
“I don’t care, I don’t. I want every version of you. Today. Tomorrow. Years from now. I wanted you yesterday as the person you were then and the person you will be every day after. God,” He’s running out of breath as he pours himself out in front of you, “I have wanted you since I first laid eyes on you, and I know that will never change.”
You don’t know how to respond to such a confession. So you just stare at him, arms trembling, legs feeling like they may buckle under your weight, tears now practically frozen to your cheeks.
You want to keep shaking your head, somehow convincing him that he’s wrong, but his big doe eyes are unbeatable. His hands slowly make their way back to your hands, and you want to resist again. Push him away and tell him to save himself from your wrath, but you don’t.
You surrender to him.
Because Eddie has been there. All year. He’s been there for you when you are sad, angry, happy, and every smaller emotion in between. The world has felt like it’s been crumbling around your feet for months, but the moments you have spent with Eddie have been the glue. Each piece of the old you has fallen away, but the new pieces that you have stuck in the open cracks have somehow been due to his presence.
You knew that your brain wanted to deny it because it’s scary. It’s scary to open yourself up. It’s scary to love someone.
When he senses you’re not going to move away, he grabs you and brings you into his chest. His arms are pressed and flush around you, his hand cradling the back of your head as he sways.
You don’t know how long you stay wrapped in his warmth, but it feels like long enough to calm your nerves. His bone-crushing hug soothed you in a way you never knew any hug could. Your breathing settles, your heart rate drops to a somewhat normal beat, and you can finally swallow.
When he shifts you a bit to look down at you, his eyebrows are set and furrowed. “If your pretty big brain ever tells you again that I don’t want you, never believe it, okay? That’s never going to be the truth.”
You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. You never had the pleasure of someone being so reassuring. It almost makes you nauseous.
You lick your lips, “What am I going to do?”
It’s a broad question to ask. One that you know he probably cannot answer.
Eddie contemplates if for a minute, brushing some of your hair back with his fingers. “You wanna skip the rest of the day?”
You squint at him in confusion as you wipe away a frozen tear, “Why would I do that?"
“I don’t know,” He huffs, hand still cradling your jaw slightly, “Maybe I can prevent your brain from melting out of your skull in Ms. Donovan’s fourth period. Get your mind off things for a bit.”
A distraction. Something that would have literally sent you into a full-blown meltdown in front of the entire school 15 minutes ago.
But now your heart is telling you to go. To get away from your mindless routine at school. If you’re lucky, Eddie will lose track of time and forget to bring you home and you can skip out on work, too.
So you agree.
“You’re a bad influence,” You whisper, hand slowly drifting up his forearm, “You know that?”
He chuckles, shaking his curls out of his face. His smile may be devilish, but he’s so fucking pretty.
“Hush. Come on. I got a place.”
-
When the van cuts off in front of a record store that is right off Main Street, you sigh.
Eddie notes your affliction, patting your thigh with his expansive hand. “Music always helps me. Let’s go see if we can find anything worth spinning.”
You get out, slamming the passenger door enough so it clicks correctly, and walk to the curb. He jiggles his keys in his vest pocket before walking to your side and grabbing your hand.
When his fingers interlock with yours, you cannot help but beam down where you two are conjoined.
You walk with him inside the shop, immediately being welcomed by a guy with the same hair as Eddie. He’s blonde, freckled, and rocking a Rolling Stones shirt.
Eddie nods towards him, “Justin- how’s it going, man?”
He drags you along to the counter to give the guy a fist bump. The guy– Justin– manages a short answer, his eyes set on you. “This your girl, Munson?”
You expect him to make up some answer about how you are just a friend. A girl he’s showing around the record store. But your hands are linked together, making it pretty obvious that was not the case.
“Yeah, man, sure is.”
Your heart stutters as you watch Justin extend his hand towards you. You shake it, giving him your name and offering a clipped greeting. He giggles at your fumbling as his eyes shoot over to Eddie.
“Never thought I’d see the day where Eddie Munson walks in with a cool, pretty girl.”
Your fingers twitch against Eddie’s knuckles. He lets out a loud, booming laugh as Justin teases him. He starts towards the rows and rows of records, not acknowledging his gibe. “Count me as the luckiest man alive, then, Justin. Cause I’m definitely with the coolest, prettiest girl in Hawkins.”
You cannot ignore the way Eddie looks at you anymore.
He would pass glances at you before, his eyes twinkling with a hint of wonderment. Like you had said, the most important thing in the world.
But it would fade when his attention was drawn away to another conversation.
The loaded glances only got more intense after your first kiss. Then with your second, he could not look at you without the glint in his dark chocolate eyes.
He stops in front of a bin of metal records, his free hand flicking through the vinyls with expertise. You had never been to a record shop before. You did not even have a record player, so you had no reason to step foot in an establishment like this.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?” He ponders, shooting you a slight glance before picking up a record to read the song titles.
“Just how I don’t even have a way to spin any of these records.”
There’s that sparkle in his eyes.
He puts the record back, pulling you closer to his side. His hand drops yours before he slings his arm around your shoulder. Your face is inches away from his, and you can already taste the nicotine on his lips without touching them.
“You keep it at my house and prance your beautiful ass into my room whenever you want to hear it,” He declares, his arm locking onto you tighter, which only brings you closer.
He was too good.
You bring your hand up to cradle his cheek, feeling the slight stubble that he didn’t shave off this morning. “You’re okay with me just waltzing into your house?”
“Of course,” He whispers, swaying your body a bit as he speaks, “As long as I’m home. Wayne may not love the idea of you breaking down the door and interrupting his NASCAR races.”
You two move through the store after that, somehow always touching each other. You find the pop records and pull out a Prince record. You hear Eddie huff beside you as your eyes rake over the album art. “Prince? Really?”
His hands are trained on your waist, while his chin goes to rest on your shoulder. You smile, enjoying the feeling of his breath near your neck.
Eddie had kissed you there before, and you learned then that it was your favorite place to have him nestled.
“Yes, Edward, really.”
You can feel his face twist against you as his hand raises to grab the vinyl from your hands. You watch him bring it up to his height, inspecting some of the songs on the back. “Fine, I’ll allow it since it has When Doves Cry.”
You press your shoulder against him to get a better look at him. He’s deadly serious. “Really?”
“It’s a good song."
“You listen to Prince?”
He scoffs, tilting his chin inward as if offended, “I’m well-versed, beautiful. I just have my… strong preferences.”
You cannot stop yourself from breaking into the widest grin. He’s so absurd.
You’re not that shocked, really. Eddie may tease and pick, but you have heard him humming a variety of different songs before. He always comes back to his metal songs, though. If he notices you, noticing him, he will change the hum to some random ‘guitar’ solo. His fingers are jokingly moving across an air instrument, his lips pursing and eventually widening to make the tune even more dramatic, all the while you roll your eyes.
You spin on your heels, jolting him away from your shoulder. “So, we get this record and spin it whenever I want?"
“That’s the deal.”
When he yanks you up to the counter to check out, you look around like a little kid at the huge record player cabinet beside the cashwrap. You tug away from Eddie again, approaching it as you try to remember the name of the song that’s playing.
Justin shoots you a look, “My manager chooses what spins. I don’t even know who that is-”
You know it. It hits you immediately when the voice cuts over the dramatic piano. “You don’t know REO Speedwagon?”
Eddie is leaning over the counter, his jaw pressed into his palm as he observes your movements. Justin stills his movements at the register when you speak.
They both just stare at you like you spoke another language.
You point to the spinning record, the title hanging right on the tip of your tongue, “Can’t Fight This Feeling?”
Eddie’s eyebrows jolt upwards in surprise. Justin just looks dumbfounded, his eyes squinting at you like you were some sort of otherworldly being.
You had heard the song on one of Kacey’s tapes last year and actually enjoyed the song. She gave you the tape to play in your car, which was rotting in your front yard, unable to play the top hit from the summer before senior year.
He stalks over to you, his footfalls heavy against the creaking wooden floors. He stops inches from you as you sway slightly to the song playing over the large speakers.
He dips his head down, catching your eyes as he speaks. “I’m familiar with it.”
You don’t believe him. But in that moment, you don’t care.
His next motion throws you off completely. His right hand is grabbing at your waist, pulling you taut to his chest. His left hand clasping yours, and raising it like you would if you were about to be led across a dancefloor.
“What-”
Then his feet start moving, swaying with you and guiding you around the confined area. You yelp when he practically drags you in a circle as the song progresses.
“You’re a candle in the window, on a- hmph hmphhh,” He fumbles over the lyrics, holding your waist tighter as he sings obnoxiously, even though it’s in a hushed tone.
“Eddie, please,” You beg, trying to pry yourself away from him. Justin is the only one to witness the display, but one audience member is one too many for you. You can feel your body heat up with embarrassment, but it seems that Eddie simply does not care about the visible signs of mortification.
The song continues, but he slows down in maneuvering you around the store. “You’re not a bad dancer, sweetheart.”
You raise your limp arm from your side and press it against his bicep. “Not by choice. You’re pushing me around like I’m some sort of… broom.”
“One of the most beautiful brooms I’ve ever seen,” He beams, tilting his face closer to you, “Sorry, I just can’t fight this feeling anymore.”
He stops dancing, taking a dramatic bow once he drops your arms and waist. He finally walks over to the counter, checking out with Justin and thanking him for the hospitality. He hands you the record to carry, and you two load back into the van.
You have to give Eddie props; he was good at occupying your mind and pulling it away from the shitty circumstances. The entire time you were in the record shop, you had not even thought about not getting into Northwestern.
Sitting in the front seat, the realization hits you again. You look down at the Purple Rain album art and start to feel that deep, startling depression settle in your stomach.
Eddie’s hand finds yours, pulling you out of your own head.
“How about something sweet?” He ponders, his gaze raking over your face, “Then maybe I can take you for a hike up to that makeout spot off Hurley?”
His eyes twinkle for a moment, waiting for you to digest the last half of his offer. “You want to make out with me in the woods?”
“Sounds mystical, if you ask me.”
You roll your eyes, leaning over the center console and planting a lingering kiss on his lips. He’s eager, the palm that was holding your knuckles is now holding you steady, and his mouth moves in perfect harmony with yours.
You’re often surprised at how great Eddie is at kissing. And how excellent you have become because of him. The long, drawn-out dance of your lips with his is enough to send your heart pounding out of your chest.
You bite your lip as you sit back on your seat, taking in his heavy-lidded look. “You got the wheel. I go where you go.”
The smile that he displays is surely something unforgettable. You wish to see him smile like that every day for the rest of your life.
my main masterlist - eddie masterlist - series masterlist
previous chapter - next chapter
summary: the lies start to unravel and you and eddie get caught up.
warnings: slow burn, 18+ mdni, reader's dad is a bad man, blood, fist fight, reader with a bat, mentions of guns, mentions of drug dealing, laced drugs, this chapter gets into the nitty gritty, bits of smooching, saving some warnings due to spoilers so tread lightly friends!
a/n: sorry life has been so insane. between having covid, personal family stuff, and overall craziness, I'm happy to finally get this chapter out to y'all. thank you for your patience!
Your hands move quicker than your brain does.
You reach for the door handle, struggling to push the heavy door open without completely shoulder-checking it. When your feet hit the gravel, you start to feel dizzy.
Emotional whiplash, that’s what it is.
As you open your mouth, you watch as your Dad narrows his eyes at you and pushes open his door. He’s holding a wooden baseball bat, almost like he’s ready to knock some sense into you or something.
“What do you think you’re doing here?”
His voice is gruff, but his eyes are heavy and tired-looking. You had not actually seen him leave for work this morning, only heard the start of his shitty sedan when he revved it at 5:30.
“What are you doing here?”
Eddie’s door swings open behind you, the creaking making you zero in on other noises and sights around you. The man driving the car that your Dad was in looked familiar. He had been around your house before, but your Dad always had weird men around. You assumed they worked at the plant with him and just drank together.
“None of your business, kid. You need to leave.”
The bite in his tone makes you wince. It was the same reprimanding infliction that used to scare you to run into your room as a little girl. But this time, you were connecting too many dots to even worry about his scolding.
Your eyes flicker down to the baseball bat that is propped against the side of his leg.
Eddie’s footsteps stop directly behind you, and it’s almost like he brought the cold wind with him. Your body leans with the shift in the air. Eddie sighs, “What’s going on?”
Your Dad advances towards you two, his demeanor inching towards the same irate spirit he inflicts when he’s yelling at your Mom. The wooden stick drags across the rocks. “Why are you bringing my daughter around these parts?”
Eddie’s hands raise in surrender, which you know will only irritate your Dad further. “Dude, relax-”
“Don’t fuckin’ dude me, kid.” He is so close to you, the scent of alcohol and something else radiating off his body. His finger wiggles towards Eddie, and you realize something you had not before. It is enough to confirm your suspicions.
Why else would the guy be at a middle man’s house? Why was he always so concerned about you getting mixed up with Eddie?
He was selling. And Eddie was his competition.
“Why are you here?” There’s a lilt in your voice that you know Eddie catches onto because you hear the gravel crackling under his Reeboks. He is moving closer and closer to you.
Your Dad smiles, his teeth looking unkempt. You want to gag just looking at him. The more you train your eyes on him, the more embarrassed you are to even say you are related to the guy. “Visiting a friend.”
You scoff, “Bullshit. You don’t pull up to a friend’s house with a gang of goons and a baseball bat.”
Your head nods towards the car full of men. The more you look at them, the more you realize there is no way they are employees of the plant. They don’t look like they worked a day in their lives. They are the type of guys that sat in a dilapidated trailer and did the worst drugs you could think of. Losers. Takes one to know some.
You lock eyes with the driver, and he is just shaking his head, his hand tucked in the side of the door to his left. What is he holding onto?
Your Dad’s voice pulls you back to the conversation,“You two need to get out of here if you know what’s good for you.”
“Why aren’t you at work?”
You knew the answer, but you wanted to hear it directly from him. Your arm drops from your chest, reaching back to feel for Eddie. His arm is less than a foot away, waiting and silent.
“Don’t worry about what I’m doing,” He is swaying with each sentence, like his legs could give out at any point. Eddie sighs behind you, almost as if he’s pushing you to press the subject.
“Are you dealing again?”
Again. He used to do it when you were a baby. Mom told him he would never see another day if he picked it back up.
Your Dad’s voice comes out clipped, trying to instantly defend himself. “No-”
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to her, dude.”
Your body stiffens when Eddie’s raspy voice carries in the wind. Your Dad is equally taken aback at Eddie’s abrasive response, meandering his lies. You jolt your head back to look at Eddie, but your Dad is quick to retort.
“Excuse me?”
Eddie’s more confident with his words; his chest puffed out as he looked down at him. He had some height on your Dad. Eddie was anything but bulky, but his height and boxy clothes definitely added to his intimidating factor. You don’t get how people at school were brazen enough to fuck with him.
“You got caught in your shit this time, Jack. Stop lying to her.”
How did Eddie know any of this?
“Wait, what?” The back of your hand presses against Eddie’s chest, trying to halt him from getting too far ahead. You are still trying to wrap your head around the fact that your Dad is confronting you in front of a drug dealer’s house, and now Eddie knows more than he’s been letting on?
“Your Dad has been running drugs for Rick for the last 6 months.”
Before you can even process his words, your Dad grabs your arm and pulls you towards the ground. He’s not coming for you, he’s going after Eddie. His hand leaves your body as he goes to lift the bat at Eddie.
You have never seen Eddie move so quickly in your life, stumbling backward into the van. You hear the other doors of the car your Dad arrived in open up, which makes you frantic. They are going to kill him.
You manage to scramble towards your Dad, latching onto the dirty flannel that was peaking out of the back of his heavy jacket. You wrap your fingers around it as your Dad drops the bat and opts to fly towards Eddie with his fists. His knuckles land straight onto Eddie’s cheekbone, and you hear him grunt in retaliation. He lands another one on his nose fairly soon after, making your nails dig into the red fabric you are yanking on even tighter.
You pull on the flannel harder, practically choking him as his other fist lands right near Eddie’s eye.
You just scream, unsure if you are actually saying any real words. Eddie is hunched over, his back pressed against his van as his hands scramble for his door handle. He’s too far down the vehicle, so it’s not use trying to escape.
“Eddie, do something!”
As you say it, your Dad starts to stumble backward into you, and Eddie falls forward towards the two of you. Your feet cannot grip onto anything, so you release your Dad as he tries to catch his footing, too. Your ass hits the ground once again, feeling around for any defense.
Your Dad is too slow in his endeavor to find his balance as Eddie lands one crackling punch to his face. It’s like one of those dramatic scenes in a movie, his head snapping to one side as he crumbles to the ground.
You feel the wooden handle of the bat near your hand, reaching for it as Eddie holds his fists up in a defensive position. There’s blood all over his face, and his chest heaves dramatically, trying to catch his breath.
You scoot up, moving away from your Dad’s almost limp body. You hold the bat in your right hand, aiming it towards him on the gravel.
If he stands up, you would do something.
“You little shits…” His voice is mumbled, his head craning to look up at you and Eddie standing over him. Before he can say much more, a shot rings out beside you. You look around, seeing his pal hanging a gun out the window into the air. You look down at yourself, almost as if to check if he aimed it at you or Eddie.
Your ears cannot hear much of anything as you turn to Eddie, seeing his face warped in just as much confusion.
“Get in the car,” You yell, grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him to the opposite side of the van. Blood from his nose and face drips onto his white shirt, making you wince as you guide him haphazardly. You hear more scrambling from the other side, knowing your Dad is probably getting helped up by his pals. You push Eddie into the passenger side, your free hand patting Eddie’s sturdy chest, inspecting around his upper body again. “You’re not shot, you’re okay.”
He says nothing, just nodding with a dazed expression.
Your adrenaline is sending your body into the shakes. You walk around to the other side of the van, seeing your Dad and his gun-wielding friend leaning on one another. He looks desperate to get your Dad out of there.
You aim the bat at your Dad, like you are about to swing. You hold it steady, your arms shaking a bit.
You want answers. You can feel jolts of electricity surge through you as you step towards him and away from Eddie’s van.
“Does Mom know?”
He spits blood out of his mouth onto the grass behind him. “No.”
“How are you getting the money?”
“Your piggy bank got me started. And sales have been carrying me through-”
You launch the bat towards his head, grazing the sporadic growth of his hair. You have never felt so sick to your stomach before hearing his words.
They always say betrayal is an act that starts with trusting another person. But you’ve never trusted your Dad. But there's something so twisted about a parent neglecting their child, and then when that child perseveres, they come behind them and stab them repeatedly in the back.
Your voice shakes, “If you think I will ever have a relationship with you again after this, you are mistaken. Stay out of my life.”
You grab onto the handle of Eddie’s van, pulling open the driver’s door. The hot air is blasting inside, the engine is still chugging, waiting to carry you and Eddie out of there. Big brown eyes bore into yours from the other side of the cabin, almost pleading.
Your Dad’s voice rings out as you hear stumbling over the rocks, “You better not be at my goddamn house when I get home!”
Your head whips around, scoffing as you wave your finger at him. It’s such an absurd thing to say to you, especially since that house would not be standing if it were not for you and your Mom’s tips from the diner. You had loaned them so much money in recent months since you started working, with nothing in return but them telling you to be grateful to have a roof over your head.
“The house I practically fuckin’ pay for? The house I keep the lights on at? No, you better not be at the fuckin’ house when you’re done here. Mom will know by the end of the day what you’ve been up to.”
He is stunned into silence as you crawl up into the seat, a bit of bounce in your motions as you slam the door shut and tune out whatever hateful shit your Dad spews. You look in the rear view, seeing a small sliver of room to pull out of the driveway you’re stuck in. You throw the van in reverse and, with the rush of anxiety flowing through you, you manage to dodge most of the potholes and pull out onto the back road.
You hear Eddie groan, his hand raising up to his nose.
The suspense of the altercation settles as you push your hand into the back seat, feeling around for anything cloth that Eddie could use to hold to his nose.
You find a t-shirt and throw it into his lap as you turn onto the road that brought you into this situation. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie leaning his head back and bringing the shirt up to the rushing rapids of blood dribbling down his face.
“Your Dad has been running drugs for Rick for the last 6 months.”
His voice never faltered, the utmost confidence seeping past his lips. The lips you just indulged in.
The puzzle was falling into place quickly, but a lot of questions also arose above the assumptions you were making. Eddie knew all about your Dad, and never in all this time did he hint at knowing one thing about your family. The words your Dad would mutter under his breath about Eddie were never fully lost on you, but in some sick and twisted way, you were thinking he was being protective. Eddie's selling was not the best well kept secret.
You realize that betrayal feeling did not come from your Dad’s misdeeds; it was the fact that Eddie knew what was happening and did not tell you. Eddie lied to you. And that hurt.
“How long did you know?” You press, your voice trembling. You are almost in tears before you even realize it.
Eddie doesn’t look at you, his hand over his face still. “A couple months.”
Stab right in the chest.
The tears start to flow, and you instinctively wipe them away with your ice-cold hand, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Eddie’s head turns towards you, his hand dropping away from the flow of blood that’s pooling above his upper lip. When you shoot him a glance, you notice the bruising around his eye and cheek already forming.
He still somehow looks pretty, his hair a mess, the end of his curls wet from his blood.
His words shock you back into a spiral. “He threatened to kill me.”
Jesus fuck. That changes things.
It does not sound like something your Dad would say, but you also feel like you hardly know that guy anymore. He was always high and low, so maybe you never really did know him. It didn’t matter anymore, anyway. He was not allowed back in your life, especially after stealing from you and becoming the same type of person your Grandfather was. The long line of deadbeat, drug-addicted fathers.
“There’s something else,” Eddie whispers, returning the balled-up shirt to his face. You turn onto the road that would lead you all the way back to the front of your neighborhood, your fingers curling in anticipation as you press Eddie further. “Since I’m spilling everything.”
“What?”
He shakes his head, almost as if he does not want to actually tell you. Maybe he is just trying to formulate how to drop more terrible news onto you. “He’s the one selling the drugs to Kacey and Gabe. They told me in the library that day she tried to confront you.”
Your instinct is to slam on the brakes, but instead, you spot a dirt patch on the side of the road that appears to be the perfect stopping place. You come to a halt, throwing the van into park. “He’s selling them the drugs?”
Eddie’s lips smack, as if to taste his own blood. “Cocaine. Pills. Whatever they want.”
“You lied to me and said they were talking about their drugs being laced-”
“It was, I swear! Your Dad is cutting his coke with some crazy shit. Kacey and Gabe had a friend almost overdose on it before they could try it," Eddie explains, looking down at the blood-soaked t-shirt, “Reefer Rick told me he was done selling to him because he was going to get him in deeper shit. I am sorry I lied about knowing who was selling to them. I didn’t want to hurt you or make you think differently of me.” You can tell all the talking is making his face hurt more, his unhurt eye twitching as he pulls the mirror down to look at himself.
“Also, this world is not safe for you. I wanted to keep you far away from it.”
You wanted to scream.
The baseball bat. The gun. They were going there to confront the middle man.
“He and his goons are going to kill your middle man,” You mutter, thinking about your Dad beating a random man to death with a baseball bat. It makes you feel so sick that your stomach lurches and you grip the wheel to try to steady yourself. Like that would help.
Eddie leans back into the seat, letting out a long sigh. “I needed to find a different job anyway.”
You know his blasé attitude is due to the pain he must be in, but it makes your heart stutter in your chest. Eddie was a pretty empathetic person, for the most part. Maybe it was just for you. He had gone out of his way to always make sure you were comfortable, safe. And yet here he is, not caring if a guy he worked for was going to live or die. Even if the guy was an asshole, no one deserves to die.
And your Dad would be the one to put him 6 feet deep if they did not scare him away with that gunshot his friend used to scare you and Eddie off. Guy was probably out the back door before you could even get in the van.
This all happened so fast.
You can feel the adrenaline crash coming soon, though. Your body was actually starting to hurt.
“This is insane.”
It’s all you can say. Because it is. How did your life spiral so out of control?
“Yeah,” he huffs, with his nose sounding very clogged as it’s drawn out, “It’s been quite the eventful last couple of months.”
You don’t even know where to start on how to crawl out of this pit of despair. You still have a ton of questions, but you do not even know where to start. You were the daughter of a criminal. A guy who couldn’t give two shits if you were hurting. He stole from you, lied to you. He did not care.
You pull away from the spot on the side of the road, squealing the tires as you do. You just needed to mindlessly drive.
20 minutes go by in complete silence, just Eddie occasionally groaning in pain.
“I’m so sorry I kept this from you,” He says, the stoplight you have halted at holding you hostage. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I also don’t know how one just… slips that situation into a conversation.”
“By just fuckin’ saying it, Eddie.”
You don’t mean to sound so dramatic, but you truly wish everything would just dissipate in front of you and you could just fall into your bed and sleep for the next year. Your body hurts from landing so many times on the ground. You would have to check your leg under your pants to see how bruised your skin may be. And your brain was fried. You did not know what to think anymore.
“I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t change anything. I know what it’s like to have a dad that doesn’t give a shit.” He starts to ramble, his voice suddenly getting louder. The more he moves, the more curious you get. In your peripheral vision, you see him recoiling in pain. “Jesus, my face really hurts.”
“I can help you get cleaned up when I get you home.”
You pull away when the light flicks green, pulling forward for the last mile until you are in front of Eddie’s trailer.
“Baby,” He groans, his body shifting as you aggressively fly forward in the van. That nickname has never ever been said to you before. Butterflies start to bloom upward in your stomach as you peer over at him, almost teasingly.
“Now you know how I feel when you drive.”
Your Mom isn’t home. That’s the first thing you notice when you pull into the neighborhood. She must have taken up an extra shift. No telling when she’d be home, and no telling when you could explain exactly what happened with your Dad. Hopefully, he would take your advice and just disappear.
When you throw the van in park, you move to the door handle before shooting Eddie a look.“Do you have medical stuff inside? Gauze and alcohol?”
Eddie leans his head against the cold window, nodding as he does. He truly looks so pitiful; it makes your chest ache. “Yeah… this isn’t really the first time I’ve had my ass beaten, sweets.”
The sun is setting behind some large fluffy clouds in the distance, and you are reminded of watching the weather channel this morning. “Chances of snow are at about 80% overnight tomorrow. Make sure you plan your rides to school and work for Wednesday morning.”
You grit your teeth as you fold your arms across your chest, squeezing some warmth back into your upper body as you walk to the passenger’s side and slowly help Eddie out. He stands up straight, a bit wobbly, but at least he’s upright.
You hold onto his arm as you slam his door shut. You look up at him, pushing some of his hair out of his face so you can inspect in a bit better. You cannot help but be a smartass to him, trying to lighten the mood a bit. You needed to laugh.
“You could’ve swung on him a bit more.”
He groans, his throat letting out a forced laugh. He can hardly move his face without some sort of pain-riddled moan, so you know you are not helping. “You kinda threw a bat at his head. I think he got the message, sweetheart.”
-
You prop Eddie up on the couch, watching him slump onto the armrest with an oof. You do not know where anything is, so for a good five minutes, you stumble around Eddie’s trailer with some loose direction from him. You manage to find gauze, some alcohol pads, and a bag of frozen corn.
You have never cleaned any wounds other than some cuts and scrapes you got when you were in middle school. Usually you did not even clean them, just slapped a Band-Aid on those suckers and kept moving. But you knew with the way Eddie’s cheek and bridge of his nose looked, you would have to clean up some broken skin.
You sit next to him, pulling the coffee table close and laying out your findings.
You wrapped the corn in a kitchen towel, handing it to him without even glancing at him.
“Put that on your eye and cheek while I clean up your nose.”
He reluctantly listens, deepening his voice in a mocking way to mutter, “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”
You were never queasy with blood, luckily. You make work on cleaning up the dried blood around Eddie’s nose, carefully dabbing the alcohol pad across the small cut across the bridge of his nose. He stares at you with his one good eye, following every deliberate move you make.
Once his nose is somewhat situated, you grab his wrist and slowly remove the cold compress from his face. His matching ring catches your eye, yet again, as you move it away. “Did you get that ring to match my necklace?”
He finally smiles, the crinkles around his eyes reflecting his enjoyment at your observation, “Bought them at the same time.”
Your cheeks heat up at the idea that he was subliminally trying to tell you something, and you caught on. “See, I thought I was crazy earlier thinking you got it to match me.”
“Nope, you’re just too damn smart, baby.” He’s really milking that word. And every time he says it, your skin prickles with goosebumps, “That’s how you’re going to get into Northwestern.”
You eventually move Eddie to his bed. You sit on the end of the mattress, legs tucked up to your chest. Your mind is still swirling, but all you can think about in that moment is that night you shared a bed with Eddie at Gareth’s and how shocking it was to wake up next to him. Now you are all curled up near him in his bed, and so much has changed in your relationship. This time feels a bit more intimate and way less jarring.
You are pulled out of your thoughts when you watch him slowly remove the corn from his face. “The corn is practically warm.”
You lean over him, grabbing the bag to test the temperature. They had been out of the fridge for almost an hour. Time has flown by.
“Let’s give your face a break from the cold.” You stand up, placing the bag on the top of his dresser. Your footing gets caught up on some clothes on his floor as you step towards the bed again. He giggles watching you stumble before you brace yourself, eventually landing near his knees on the bed.
He repositions, propping himself against the wall behind his bed.
With one single tissue stuffed up his nose and only one good eye, he still looked handsome. Your instinct is to lean over and turn his chin to pivot his eye towards the light a bit. You refuse to say anything, just inspecting the bruises that scatter across his cheek up towards his eye. The red, purple, and blue colors blooming on his face look like an awful watercolor painting you would do in art class.
“I’m hungry,” He states, pushing his chin against your fingers. You offer a smile, thinking about how you two were supposed to go get some pizza, and your plans got obliterated by the whole drug dealer Dad thing.
“Yeah?” You grin, looking down at the blanket he has tucked himself under. There’s a loose thread on the edge, so you begin to pick at it, letting the silence linger a bit. “You do owe me pizza.”
“Do you think they deliver?”
You shake your head, “Probably not. But you know who does? Pizza Hut.”
A silly smile graces his battered face.
“Get the cash from my wallet and order whatever you want, sunshine.”
He was adamant about not eating in bed, so when the delivery driver dropped off the two pizzas and breadsticks, you shoved money in his hand from Eddie’s wallet and closed the door behind you.
Eddie sat up on the couch, a new frozen bag of vegetables on his face. You open every cabinet, finding some plates, eventually slapping some slices and breadsticks on a plate for him.
Wayne gets home from work as you settle next to Eddie, curling your feet up onto the cushion and picking up the one slice you plated for yourself. He immediately notes you, then his eyes fall on Eddie. The look of concern is unmissable.
“What happened to-”
“Guys at school ganged up on me,” He lies so seamlessly to Wayne that it makes you nauseous. You put the slice down before you can even take a bite. Wayne walks over to him, standing over him and inspecting his face like any worried Dad would.
“Did you defend yourself at least?” He asks simply, shaking his head once Eddie lets him get a good look. Eddie just shakes his head.
“Sunshine here dealt with them,” He gestures towards your completely rigid body, “Should’ve seen her, Wayne. The girl’s a vicious killer.”
Wayne knows he’s being metaphorical, rolling his eyes at his nephew’s theatrics. He looks to you, scoping you out with similar concern. “Did they get you anywhere?”
You just shake your head, afraid to be an accomplice in Eddie’s lies. Wayne offers an understanding nod before dropping his shoulders to remove his winter coat. That’s when you notice some melted snowflakes on his collar.
“Snowing out there?” You quip, pushing your slice around your plate like you are debating eating it. You needed to change the subject, anyway.
“Yeah, supposed to get real bad overnight,” Wayne replies, walking around the kitchen counter to tilt the pizza box up to check out what you two are indulging in.
Eddie winces as he tries to take a big bite of his pizza. He eats like an all too excited child, so you assume he just widened his jaw a bit too much and scrunched the skin around his face a bit too much. Before you can acknowledge him, he starts to speak with his mouth full.
“Hopefully, no school tomorrow.”
God, wouldn’t that be a blessing?
You take a bite of pizza, but the stirring in your stomach will not go away with food. Eddie notices the shift in your demeanor as he retreats into eating slower and watching you with his one good eye. You just disassociate, watching the TV, not peeling your eyes away until Eddie’s standing up and offering to take your plate. You give it to him as he wobbles his way over to the kitchen. Wayne is on standby in case Eddie decides to fall over or something. You stand up after a minute of watching him carefully put the dishes next to the sink.
You look away when Wayne acknowledges what he’s doing, tapping his arm, trying to get him to scram. You don’t know where to go, so you just walk to Eddie’s room and sit on the edge of his bed.
You know why he lied. You know that it’s to protect you and shift the blame away from your batshit Dad onto himself. You just hate that Wayne believed him so quickly, accepting that his nephew was an easy target for assholes at school. Eddie did not deserve the reputation he had, and he surely never deserved to be bullied.
But also, deep down, you wished that your parents showed some concern like Wayne had. Hell, he even asked if they had hurt you. You don’t know what he would’ve done if you said yes, but at least he asked.
Eddie was lucky to have Wayne.
You peak out of Eddie’s window, leaning over the bed to look behind the blackout curtains. The snow is really coming down now.
Hopefully, your Mom put on the heat before she left for work, or else you’d be bundling up in your bed until the sun came out tomorrow morning. If it ever does.
“You okay?”
His voice is deeper than usual, which jolts you out of your persistent staring at the snow.
You sit up, nodding slowly. “As good as I can be.”
He grunts at that, finding his way over to you, dropping next to you. The bed shifts and squeaks, which makes you giggle a bit.
“I didn’t want Wayne to worry about what really happened.”
“I know,” you whisper, tapping your fingers against your thigh. You don’t look at him, staring forward at his wall of band posters and a large paint sheet that is painted with his band’s name. You really did understand his point, but it still stung thinking about the real reason Eddie looks the way he does. Picturing your Dad wailing on him again makes you want to throw up.
His hand delicately moves to your thigh, his fingers poking at your knuckles. A chill shoots up your arm as he doesn’t let up on touching you. You finally flutter your lashes towards him, feigning almost-annoyance.
He smiles. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess.”
You let out a sharp exhale, “The mess always finds me, Eddie.”
“But I didn’t help.”
You finally move your fingers, wrapping them around his to halt him from prodding at you.
“I forgive you.”
Because you do. Eddie was technically dragged into a bigger mess by being around you. You both got caught up in your Dad’s bullshit. Had he ignored you the day your car broke down, he would probably have coasted by under your Dad’s radar. He could continue selling to his usual folks and make money in whatever way he wanted to. He never would’ve had to waste much gas toting you around. He never would’ve had to deal with Kacey and Gabe’s antics at the library. Hell, he would’ve never set foot in the library.
He pulls your hand up towards his mouth, kissing your knuckles as if he’s sealing the deal of forgiveness. You just shake your head, lips quirking into a small smile.
“You need to get some sleep,” You hum, letting his lips smush into your hand some more before you tug it away, “I need to get home and take a shower.”
“But it’s snowing.”
“I live 150 feet away from your front door,” You retort, shutting him down again. It’s not that you wanted to go home to your possibly freezing house. You were just nervous about being so close to Eddie. Even though you kissed him. But... Where would you sleep? Would Wayne even let you?
He shakes his head, his hair tousled across his face. He cannot help but tease you more, “I think you should stay.”
You lean closer to him, your hand pressing into the mattress. He moves in tandem with you, his head tilting in interest before you whisper, “I think you have a concussion and are not thinkin’ clearly.”
“I’m thinking just fine,” He replies quickly, looking down at your lips for a brief moment, “You should stay.”
You don’t know why he’s being so adamant, but it’s driving you insane. Not in a particularly bad way, but it seems that his clinginess has only been exacerbated by today’s circumstances. It makes your skin heat up with anticipation, like something may tip off.
“Eddie, we have school-”
He angles his head towards the window, “You saw that snow. It’s going to 100% be a snow day.”
“Then I can stop over tomorrow and build a snowman with you.”
“Smartass,” he hums, his lips losing distance. It’s your turn to look at his. His smirk turns into a full grin, his chapped lips only cracking further. He’s dealt with worse pain today.
The tension is painfully thick. With his afflicted-looking bruises and clotted gash on his nose, he still looks like he wants to kiss you. The thought makes you wince. The last thing you want is to hurt him further.
“Yeah,” Your eyes don’t move from him, “Coming from the king of smartasses.”
He waits for a stretched-out minute, just breathing into your slightly agape mouth. “Can I at least get a kiss goodbye?
You jokingly sigh, acting like it's such a hard thing for you to do. “We gotta be careful cause your-”
He cuts you off, his ringed hand reaching out to the nape of your neck. He’s already millimeters from your face. “Yeah, my face is fucked, I know. Come kiss me.”
You shift forward, making sure to completely dodge his nose. It’s an awkward way to kiss, but when his lips make contact with yours, all the anxiety bubbling in your stomach dissipates. You relax, letting the kiss linger for a minute before you pull away. “Also, your face isn’t fucked.”
“My swollen eye says otherwise, baby.”
His lips are still so close, and God, hearing him call you that is enough to make you want to melt back into them. You don’t, though, opting to cradle his jaw delicately and offer a half-hearted smile.
“Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Eddie nods, reluctantly. “Yes, doctor. I shall grieve the loss of my lass first and then go straight into counting sheep.”
Lotus Eater (multi-chapter fic) 🔥🌹🥀- after a series of unfortunate events, eddie is your only way to school. months of riding in the car with him turns into an unlikely friendship between him, the town freak, and you, the overachieving loser.
Cotton Mouth - 🔥 🥀 🌹 you need a new dealer and you know a guy through the unfortunate grapevine you used to be wrapped up in. but I mean... the banter is great, and you cannot help but fall for him. but don't fret, he feels the same way.
Cherry Stems - 🔥 eddie rejects your advances because his friends are around. so you use them to your advantage. piss eddie off and maybe you'll get what you want. maybe.
You Really Got Me Now 🔥🌹- your best friend and roommate eddie is pissing you off, per usual. his way of making you feel heard is not very conventional.
Make Me Feel (ft. Gareth) 🔥🌹 - you fly out to reunite with your rockstar boyfriend eddie munson. after a long day, you decide to return to his bed on the tour bus, but it seems like it is already occupied by his bandmate, gareth.
Miss Possessive (in Make Me Feel universe)🔥🌹🥀 - you cannot help but be possessive over your boyfriends... wait no, boyfriend. just your boyfriend. not his best friend.
Lessons in Art History 🔥🌹 - eddie needs to graduate. a stupid summer art class is getting in his way. luckily for him, his neighbor and childhood crush is an art history major. and you're ready to make a deal.
Cut A Deal 🔥🌹 - the year before law school, you develop a small habit. eddie is your go-to guy. when it turns out he's giving some other girls better deals, you decide to confront him.
Caramel 🔥🌹🥀 - he's burned inside your memory after a summertime fling. now, after high school, he's everywhere you go. is it fate? or something even more devastating?
my main masterlist - eddie masterlist - series masterlist
previous chapter - next chapter
summary: christmas. pep rallies. facing feelings. but he doesn't remember... right?
warnings: slow burn, 18+ mdni, reader's parents are terrible, reader and eddie celebrate christmas, braless!reader, everyone say hello to a familiar face!!, reader is jealous and irritable, nervous ticks, confessions, discussions of oral sex, discussions of virginity, reader is a virgin but has done other stuff, cliffhanger, saving some warnings due to possible spoilers so tread lightly <3
a/n: hey lovers, long time no see <333 sorry this took so long! next chapter is mapped out and half written so hopefully not a crazy a gap between them. please like and reblog! show your fic writers some love <3
Christmas came quicker than you would have liked.
You work on Christmas Eve with your Mom, taking the longer shift so she could “go home and wrap presents”.
If there was one thing you knew about your Mother, it is that she did not buy you a single thing worth having. She was a terrible gift giver and used that to her advantage.
You wake up late on Christmas morning, rubbing the tired out of your eyes. Your Mom and Dad sat on the couch, watching A Christmas Story, which happened to be the only movie they played on cable television on Christmas since it came out in ‘83.
Your Mom hands you an envelope with a huge smile plastered across her face.
“Merry Christmas, baby girl.”
You open it up and see that it is a bumper sticker. Your arms drop in annoyance, which does not wipe that stupid smile off her face. “Mom! Really?”
“Look at it!”
You flip the sticker and see that it’s an Indiana State University sticker. She smiles even brighter when your face does not change from the irked expression you are displaying.
Your Dad chuckles, swatting at your leg. You flinch at the sick smile plastered on his face, “For your new car, when you get one.”
You look between them, wanting nothing more than to flip the coffee table and hide away in your room. They are obviously trying to insinuate something, and they are getting off on you being pissed about it. Indiana State was the last college you wanted to attend, even though you applied there. It was simply the backup to the backup plan. And you have told them that countless times.
They did not think you were good enough for anything more. They wanted to keep you here, helpless.
As you slam the envelope and sticker down on the counter to make yourself a cup of orange juice, you hear a knock at your front door. You assume it’s just one of your Dad’s stupid friends, coming to bear more beer or cigarettes, all in the name of the holiday spirit. But when your Mom opens the door, she shifts away with confusion.
“Mr. Munson, what do we owe the pleasure?”
Eddie’s voice comes from behind the door, “Looking for your daughter, is she awake yet?”
You push off the counter, coming to the front door. You wedge yourself between him and your Mom as she peers at him, conflicted. You look up at Eddie, a chill coming from the outside December air. Your Mom slowly backs away, letting you hold onto the edge of the door as Eddie leans forward, his arms behind his back.
You had not talked to him much since Christmas break started. He invited you over to smoke, but you declined, not wanting to have loose lips around him any time soon. You could tell by the way he behaved around you lately that he knew something had happened the night of the Corroded Coffin show. You did not entertain his questions, opting to try to avoid breaking your own heart.
Because at the end of the day, it was a drunken confession that probably was not meant to come out. You wanted to save yourself the embarrassment of asking him if it was actually true, only for it not to be.
You still had the pressing feeling it was true, but you could not risk any more humiliation this year, maybe in the New Year when you got accepted to Northwestern and had an out. You could escape the awkwardness by moving a couple of states away.
“Merry Christmas, sunshine,” He practically whispers, his brown locks significantly messier than usual.
“Merry Christmas,” You reply, trying to close the door a bit more behind you so your parents could not eavesdrop. “What’s up?”
He moves his hands forward, a small, badly-wrapped box in the middle of his right palm. “I got you a present.”
It makes you shut the door behind you completely, standing in the freezing cold with Eddie all wrapped up in his leather jacket while you are still in your pajama shirt. The frigid rush of air goes up your shirt as you reach out to grab the gestured gift.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” You gripe, trying to act bothered that he thought of you. When in actuality, the familiar rush of butterflies settles in your stomach. He looks excited as you slowly pull at the paper. When you open the small white box he so kindly wrapped for you, your mouth slowly drops.
It’s a gold necklace with a circular red gemstone hanging from the chain. You pick it up, holding it up to the gray overcast sky, admiring it with awe. “Eddie…”
He is beaming when you finally look at him, like he just achieved his greatest feat.
“I got it from the antique store where I buy my rings,” He explains, holding out his hands so you can get a close look at them. You know those rings better than you know your own jewelry collection. “You like it?”
You quirk a smile, your heart racing, your mouth getting dry.
“I love it,” Your eyes bore into his as he steps down onto one of your front stoop steps. You hand him the box again, putting the necklace between two fingers. “Hold this. I’m gonna put it on.”
He grabs the wrapping paper and box, his soft smile reflecting his excitement that you are thrilled to put on the gift he picked out for you. “Model it for me. I’m sure it’s going to look great.”
You fiddle with the clasp when you get it around your neck, finally locking it around your throat. The stone rests perfectly on your chest, right where you can look down and see it. You glance back up at Eddie, and his face is now virtually unreadable.
It is almost close to the face he made when he told you that you did not have to like him back in the car.
He cannot pull his eyes away from the stone, lying perfectly on your braless chest.
Oh.
You fold your arms over your upper half, acting like you are freezing. But it’s mainly to shield your hardened peaks poking through your shirt.
“Well, thank you, Eddie. I-uh…” You look away, shifting your eyes down the street before nodding awkwardly, “Merry Christmas, and I’ll see you later?”
He steps down one more step, a hint of a smirk on his face, “Uh, yeah. See you later. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
-
When you come back to school, you come to the realization that Winter Break made people forget about you. When you walk the halls, everyone seems uninterested. It is a huge sigh of relief as you get to your locker, and not one person has said anything to you.
Monday goes by without a hitch, your peers being split between being thrilled to see their friends again or dreading the day they were born due to being back in school.
Tuesday would be where you get back into your groove of normalcy. You think.
Eddie parted ways with you as soon as he got to school, telling you that he had to go get an amp from Gareth’s car. You did not bother sticking around in the cold, instead choosing the warmth of Hawkins High’s stuffy hallways.
There was an announcement over the intercom that every student had to go to the pep rally being held in the big gym. You gather your notebook for first period with an annoyed huff and head in that direction.
As you muddled through the crowd, you felt an aggressive push to your shoulder. Your stomach tenses at the thought that you may have assumed people’s disinterest in you a bit too quickly. Instead, you look back and see a girl in her band uniform, stumbling into just about everyone. She has a large plastic briefcase pressed against her chest. You recognized her as a girl from one of your classes last year, but you could not pin down her name in your brain.
“I-I’m sorry, did I hit you?” Her shaky voice told you all you needed to know. She seemed nervous and a bit discombobulated.
“Yeah,” you quip, stopping as everyone in front of you halted to converge into the double doors that led into the gym.
She lets out an exaggerated huff, her hot breath fanning the back of your neck. “Of course I forget this shit is happening. Who has a pep rally right after winter break? So stupid.”
You manage a laugh, finding her ramblings quite relieving. It was also just a relief that she was not one of Kacey’s minions.
“And here I am, hitting random upperclassmen with my French horn. Jesus.”
You turn to her, quirking up one of your eyebrows, “French horn?”
She lifts the case, smacking a guy next to her in the arm. You cannot help but giggle as you watch the boy’s face crinkle in annoyance as he smacks away from the ungraceful band nerd.
“First girl at Hawkins High to play it,” She remarks, a smile creeping across her freckled face. You practically trade spots with the short guy she hit, offering your ear to her long-winded explanation. “My dad wanted me to get into the arts, but I am horrible at drawing. And we all came to that conclusion when I was only five. So he went to the pawn shop on Main Street and bought me the cheapest instrument they had.”
You do not know why the weird ones always gravitate to you, but you were actually growing quite fond of people occupying more of the conversation. You were completely okay with just listening, even though this girl was practically a stranger. She tried to run you down, and suddenly, you two are talking like you had been friends since childhood.
She looks to you, her mouth curled into a half smile. “I’m Robin, by the way. I’m pretty sure we had Art together last year.”
That’s right. She sat at Kacey’s table.
“I remember you,” you say before repeating your name for her, fearful she probably forgot your name like you forgot hers. Kacey used to say how she was over the top and a bit strange, but you thought her style was kind of cool. You remember staring at a pair of navy blue Converse she doodled all over while tuning out a lesson on the color wheel.
As she rambles on, she gestures for you to enter the gym before her. You turn to her, giving her your undivided attention because you feel like you have to. She was practically forcing you into a conversation that you did not mind sticking around for.
“Well, I have to go get yelled at by the band director, but it was nice chatting with you! Maybe I’ll see you around and bother you more with French horn facts,” As she finishes her sentence, you can smell that familiar cologne mixed with cigarettes waft from behind you. It’s like you had a magnet in your back pocket that he was attracted to. She looks over your shoulder, offering him a smile. “Hey, Eddie.”
You feel his chest press into your back as you stand off to the side of the bleachers occupied by underclassmen. “How’s it going, Buckley?”
She stumbles over her own feet as she turns away, all the while gesturing to her horn. “Bad. But it’ll be fine, I’m sure. Did you bring the Sour Patch Kids you owe me?”
Eddie’s laugh rumbles in his chest, and you can feel it on your shoulder blade. He’s painfully close to you, consuming all of your personal space. “Sure did, but you’ll have to wait for third period. They are in my locker.”
You haven’t even looked up at him, silently contemplating their conversation as Robin cackles as she walks away. “Cool! Later, dumbass!”
Once she’s out of sight, you feel Eddie’s fingers trace the back of your hand. Your mouth goes dry the moment he grabs your wrist and ushers you around to a set of stairs.
“You making friends with the band kids now, sunshine?”
You finally look back at him, squinting like you are trying to get him in focus. “She hit me with her horn.”
After about ten paces forward, he releases his grip on you and gestures for you to go up the bleachers. “She’s a klutz, so that tracks. Nice girl, though.”
You feel a pang of jealousy. Nice girl?
Robin was a nerd, for sure. But she was cool enough, and anyone with eyes could see that she was pretty. And they are sharing candy with one another in class? Why had Eddie never mentioned her before? Was he hiding his friendship with her because it was more than friendship?
Your brain is spinning. You almost trip up the stairs, too distracted in your own spiral to realize that Eddie’s hand is on your lower back, guiding you up. Your brain is working overtime trying to rationalize everything. Eddie is allowed to have friends. He’s allowed to talk to other girls. He’s allowed to have a life outside of you.
But his hand is touching your back.
Your mouth tastes sour, and you know your expression is probably reflecting your internal struggle.
The rest of Hellfire are already sitting at the very top, furthest away from the cheerleaders and jocks, which you are thankful for because you can feel some eyes tracking you and Eddie as you walk up the bleachers.
You finally get to the end of the bench of nerds, with Jeff welcoming you to take a seat in the far corner next to Gareth and Grant.
Eddie is like a shadow, immediately crowding your confined space on the bench. His belt chain rests on your thigh as he adjusts himself. He and Jeff mutter something about the crowd of people below you, but you choose to lock your eyes on the podium in the middle of the gymnasium.
You start to fiddle with your necklace. It became a new habit to curve the tension that built up in your chest sometimes.
You are not even paying attention to the way Eddie is looking over at you while acting like he’s listening to Jeff ramble on and on about the campaign.
Eddie’s shoulder rubs against yours, intentional this time. “You okay?”
You stop twirling your chain between your fingers. “What?”
“You seem tense,” Eddie remarks, his eyes tracing your apprehensive expression down to your necklace. A smile cracks across his face when he notices you messing with his gift.
You shake your head, feigning confusion. You know Eddie is probably the best at seeing through your lies. It was becoming his curse. You were also just not good at hiding your emotions on your face. You wore your feelings on a huge lit-up billboard on your forehead.
“Just sitting here,” You place your hand on your thigh, now toying with the silver chain that still lies across your lap. Eddie looks down, that smile only growing as you mess with his random accessory. You twirl it between your fingers, trying to use it as a distraction from the bitter taste in your mouth.
It may not mean anything. He can have friends. Guys can have friends who are girls.
He was your friend. It was possible.
But these feelings you had, God, they were not just friendly. And each day that went by, the pit in your stomach only expanded, taking up more and more space. The moment he said something to you, his voice a bit higher in pitch when he spoke to you specifically, you felt the pit get deeper. The invested eyes he gave you when you talked about something completely random, those deep, dark brown doe eyes, only widened the pit.
He was virtually consuming you from the inside out.
Those nuclear feelings you had were going to eviscerate you eventually. You thought expressing them out loud to him would have helped, but it seems that entire conversation is long forgotten and only made things a thousand times worse.
He broke you out of your trance, grabbing the chain away from you and poking your thigh, “I meant to ask you this morning, but do you mind if we make a stop after school today?”
You peer up at him, realizing he has only gotten closer since the last time you glanced at him. It seems like more kids are squishing together in this section, pushing you closer to Gareth and even closer to Eddie. He leans in to whisper in your ear, “Gotta work something out with a guy I buy from.”
His breath fans against your pulse point, and you feel a rush of heat flood between your legs. Keep it together, woman.
“Drugs?” You sigh, trying to keep your voice low. His mouth twists into a smile, still close to your jaw, and you swear you see fuzziness in your vision. Being this close to him was sending your senses into overload.
His thigh is flush with yours. You gape at the crack of your blue jeans and his black ripped jeans practically fusing together. Before he can respond, the principal approaches the podium and sets up his notes.
He gets even closer, if that’s even possible without touching your ear with his lips, “You can stay in the car, I just need to get there before my guy leaves for a couple of days.”
You grit your teeth, not loving the idea of being a part of Eddie’s illegal activities. You didn’t work today, so it was not like it was interfering with your schedule. So what would be your excuse for inconveniencing him?
You just nod, pursing your lips like you are not paying much attention to the conversation anymore.
The principal welcomes everyone to the pep rally with a roaring voice. Everyone pretends to be interested, except for you. You are far more fascinated with the way Eddie’s nose brushes against the curve of your ear. You side-eye him, trying to gauge if he’s still paying attention to you. You catch him staring at your side profile, his eyes looking heavier than usual.
You do not dare look back over at him. You act like you do not see him and glance over at Gareth. His eyes are locked forward, his arms crossed as if he’s disassociating from the entire situation. You try to match his energy, wedging your hands between your thighs as the band starts playing its normal pep music. When there’s a break in between music and speeches, you notice something different.
Eddie has a new ring.
You cannot look away. His left ring finger is adorned with something different. The skull ring that was usually there was replaced with a more polished-looking ring. The overhead lights graze the gem in the middle, igniting its color.
It matches your necklace.
You practically stop breathing.
It had to be a coincidence. There was no way he intentionally got you a necklace to match the ring he wore on his left ring finger.
His fingers twitch. You look over at him, seeing his dark brown eyes boring into yours. It’s almost as if he read your mind, his expression so knowing of what’s rattling around in your brain. You feel a head rush almost immediately as your cheeks heat up from embarrassment.
He doesn’t say anything, just slightly smirks at the shift in your demeanor.
-
So much for returning to normalcy starting on Tuesday.
You took a test in math and then had to face the horror of the Hawkins High cafeteria. Where you would sit next to Eddie. Where you would have to act like you weren’t still thinking about his ring. About how he called Robin a nice girl.
You were not doing well.
Your skin prickled with goosebumps the moment you sat down next to Gareth. Eddie had not shown up yet, probably grabbing his lunch before he did his usual dramatic display of slamming his tray down and complaining about whatever was on the menu.
Gareth’s voice brings you out of the reverie: “Eddie bought you that necklace.”
He says it like it’s a statement, not a question. You shoot him an unimpressed look, trying not to snap too quickly. After the conversation at The Hideout, you realized Gareth’s eagle eye was always watching you two. It’s like he’s taking personal bets as to when one of you would cave. Little did he know, it had already happened. And only one of you remembers.
“How do you know?” You press, propping your chin up with a bend of your elbow. You do not want to give him the satisfaction of being right, but by the way he rolled his eyes at your response, he knew.
“You two are so painfully readable, even the most oblivious in Hellfire sees through you and Eddie.” He gestures towards Jeff, his eyes shooting up from his disgusting-looking cheese pizza. You frown, not liking the shrug that Jeff gives you.
“For fuck’s sake,” You put your face in your hands, wanting a sinkhole to open up below the chair and swallow you. The rest of your words fail you because Eddie’s slamming his lunch down on the table, pulling you away from the absolute humiliation you feel. Now you just feel a trickle of nerves shoot down your legs and arms.
“This pizza looks like cardboard,” Eddie grumbles, his hands fidgeting as he sits down. The ring catches the light immediately, like it’s teasing you. You sit back in your chair, looking at him with your brows knitted together.
“It does look nasty.”
Eddie’s eyes soften at your words. As he tilts his head back to glance at you, a smile spreads across his perfectly pouted lips. “It got me thinkin’ that I wanted to check out that new restaurant on the outskirts of town. It’s a pizza place. New York style.”
He’s only really talking to you, not paying attention to the rest of the guys discussing something completely separate. They have completely disregarded that previous conversation, Gareth putting a pin in it the moment Eddie plopped into his plastic chair.
“Some customers told me over the weekend it was really good,” You recount, trying to push past the frustration you feel now that you know you constantly have eyes on you. Knowing that people are putting together the puzzle pieces of your feelings towards Eddie bothers you because, truthfully, if what you think is happening is not really happening, you’ll die of embarrassment. You would have to leave for college extra early.
Eddie takes a bite of the shitty pizza before throwing it down on his tray in disgust. “We should go there after Rick’s this afternoon.”
You feel your muscles lock up at his offer. “What?”
“You heard me,” He looks at you, a hint of confusion in his voice, “Unless you don’t like pizza.”
“I like pizza.”
Gareth shoots you a look with his hands clasped in front of his mouth. Not daring to say a thing. Not wanting to spoon-feed you the realization you are slowly coming to, Eddie’s eyes stay locked on your expressionless face.
The lines around his mouth spread as his lips curled. “It’s a date, then.”
-
Being in the car with him even feels different now.
After school, you two walked out into the frigid winter afternoon, not saying a word. Now, being confined to the warmth of his possibly oil-leaking van, you feel a sweat starting to form on your brow.
You hated being silent with him; it always made it feel like there was something wrong. Eddie was never one to be quiet, and you were always giving him some smart ass retort.
Luckily, it never lasts long.
“I went to the Hideout last night,” Eddie explains, turning down Main Street. Before taking off, he admitted the drive was longer than 20 minutes, so you two had a lot of alone time in the car.
“Oh, cool,” You mumble, still looking ahead at the busy small businesses. You had no clue where this conversation was going.
He clears his throat, “Yeah, saw those nice ladies again and they asked me where my girlfriend was.”
Eddie was good at grabbing your attention and even better at making your heart go still in your chest.
You glance at him, a small pout lining your lips, “Oh?”
His dopey smile sends a tingle down your spine.
“Yeah, I told them she was busy working.”
You did work last night, albeit a short shift. Why would he tell the ladies who wanted him all to themselves that you were actually his girlfriend?
You bite the inside of your bottom lip, pondering his words for a moment. “Eddie, they are going to think we are together, like for real.”
Reprimanding him was a stupid move. His response is so painfully quick.
“So what if they do?”
You don’t have a response. So what if they do think that about you two? What would they do? Tell your dad, since they know him? Announce it in the school’s newspaper?
You had nothing to lose. Neither did Eddie.
He looks away from the road as you respond, “I don’t know.”
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them, sweets.” He slows to a complete stop, looking all ways at the four-way intersection. You smirk when you realize his perfect halt is only because there’s a cop parked outside the pharmacy nearby. Only being good when people are watching. “Plus, if telling two old ladies that you are my girlfriend means they get off my back and don’t feed me a bunch of disgusting shots again, I’m going to have to take advantage of that.”
There it is. He’s using you to get away from the women he seemed excited to party with because they fed him gross alcohol.
He doesn’t like you.
You cross your arms over your chest, scowling at him in an almost teasing manner. You cannot give yourself away.
“So you’re using me as a ploy to get a bunch of cougars off your back?”
He giggles, shaking his head as he turns down the highway that leads out of town. “Is that so wrong?”
Yes. It’s wrong because I actually like you, asshole. You want to say.
“I mean, whatever, it’s just weird.” You try to sound nonchalant, but you even hear the spike in your tone.
“Why?”
His foot hits the gas, the tires almost squealing at the impact. The speed limit may only be 45, but to Eddie, that actually meant 70.
The response you give him is a bit jaded and blunt. You did not mean for it to come out like it does, but the lilt of your voice and upturned nose reflected a certain edge. “Because don’t you want the attention?”
His smile drifts a bit. His eyes scan the road before peeking down at you, “Not from them, sweetheart.”
The pit in your stomach. Permeating as his words hang in the air.
“Oh, I see.”
His voice clears as he speeds up, the trees to your right passing by in a blur. “Yeah, I don’t think my calling in life is to fuck a bunch of old women.”
You were not expecting that response. “Jesus Christ, Eddie.”
He chuckles dryly, almost like he wants to get more out of you. “What?”
You had not thought about Eddie fucking anyone. Well… anyone but you. That has entered your mind more times than you care to admit. And the couple of times you saw a peak of his stomach when he raised his arms, you felt a warmth spread in your tummy that extended down to your pussy. Or spotting the hint of his thighs through the rips in his jeans. You thought about his body quite often. Not always in an objectifying way, but… You did wonder about his hands a lot.
You curl your fingers in to stab the palm of your hand, still tucked under your armpits. You are failing to recenter yourself. “You talking about… fucking people.”
“Yeah, it’s not something that comes up often with us.”
Silence, except for the sound of the hot air pushing through the vents. You dig your nails further into your palm.
“Yeah, it’s not.”
He slows the car down, jerking you forward slightly as he practically goes on two wheels turning down another back road, “You get all weird talking about it.”
You shoot him a conflicted look. “I do not.”
You do. Admittedly, you had never talked to any boy about sex except for the one you almost went all the way with in 10th grade. That did not pan out for a very good reason, and you are all the more thankful for it.
Sex was something you thought about. You enjoyed reading about in books. It was always overly romantic, though. You could not help but imagine it was a dramatization.
It was not something you were in a rush to do in your real life. Maybe it was because of the crop of boys you had to pick from and how much they grossed you out. Maybe it was because none of them really gave you room to be a person before they jumped into wanting to get their dick wet. Either way, you had never fantasized about actively having sex with a guy you knew until a couple of months ago.
The night you first smoked with Eddie.
When he looked at your lips with a slight flicker of his eyes, you could have mounted his lap in that very moment. Without hindsight, you would have never connected the dots. But that pressing feeling between your legs would not let up until you did something about it before you went to bed that night.
“We don’t have to talk-”
You cut him off like you infamously do, “No, let’s because it seems like you think I’m some sort of prude or something.”
He sputters out a reply, using his hands to stop your words, “I never said that.”
“Well, you are acting like I can’t talk about having sex without being all weird.” You wave your hands outward, pulling away from your chest. You try to smile, but your stern guise is glued to your face.
Eddie huffs, “Fine, have you ever done it?”
The car slows down, and so does your brain. You do not question whether you are going to tell him the truth, simply because virginity does not matter to you. But you do not want him to think you were hopeless and innocent.
Why would he care?
“N-no. I haven’t,” You stutter, “Not… all the way.”
He stops at a stop sign. “So halfway?”
You groan, putting your hands on your face, dragging them over your eyes and nose. You keep your hands over your mouth, talking through your fingers, “I’ve sucked a dick before.”
You want to shake the memory out of your mind the moment you say it. It made you feel gross. Not the action, but the person you did it with. It makes your skin crawl picturing him standing over you.
“Really?”
He sounds shocked, which offends you a bit. He really thinks you are a prude.
You never brought up intimacy like that. What could the guy mock up besides that basic assumption?
“Yes, Eddie!” You slam your hands back on your thighs. His eyes follow them there, not pulling away from the stop sign. He is just watching you completely spiral in the bucket seat next to him, “God, have you?”
He lets out a sigh out of his nose, “Sucked a dick?”
His teasing isn’t helping the situation. You slap his arm to reel him in just as he lets off the brake and inches forward.
“No. Had sex.”
While you say the words, you feel a phlegm crawl its way up your throat. You want to know, but at the same time, you knew that it would become a sore spot knowing he had been intimate with someone else.
He clears his throat, voice wavering a bit, “Yeah. A couple of times.”
A bullet straight to the rib cage. Your instant reaction is just a small “oh”, but your mind spins with a million follow-up questions. While it stung to think about Eddie’s hands somewhere on someone else's body, his lips occupying someone else’s mouth, you could stop yourself from wanting to know more.
“With who?”
You watch as his fingers flex and constrict over the steering wheel. He sucks his cheek in like he does not want to say. You notice the subtle way he bounces his head back and forth, like he’s twirling the information in his head.
“Some girl I met at a rock festival two summers ago. We spent the weekend together and camped in her tent. Happened twice in that stuffy ass tent.”
“Do you still talk to her?”
He relaxes his hand on the wheel, “No. She got a boyfriend and stopped calling.”
It makes your skin itch for some reason. The idea that he was still calling her after they had a whirlwind weekend together, only for her to cut him off for someone else.
He must have really liked her.
You can tell your face is reflecting your unwarranted irritation, because Eddie starts to grin like an idiot. He pokes your leg, “You jealous or something?”
He’s poking the bear.
Because, of course, you were jealous. But how could you say that without sounding like a desperate idiot?
He turns down a dirt road, and it’s only then that you remember the reason you two had been confined in the car for so long together. He had business to take care of.
You decide to flip the conversation back to him. Make him feel like he’s grappling to get a hold of something.
“Why do you ask? Do you want me to be jealous?”
He wiggles his nose, leaning forward a bit as he dodges some potholes, “It would make this conversation more interesting.”
One pothole sends you and him bouncing in your seats. Your hand instantly flies out to the middle console and the door handle, steadying yourself.
“Is it not interesting enough?”
He jerks the wheel to the left, sending you hurdling towards him. He laughs as your hand braces his leg. “Course it’s interesting, sunshine. I love learning about your sexual encounters and how you are jealous that I’m more experienced than you.”
Before you even realize what you are saying, it’s spilling out. “That’s not why I’m jealous.”
He slams on the brakes. At first, you assume it’s because the road is finally opening up with a giant pothole and it’s going to devour the van. But it's not because of that, unfortunately.
He throws the van in park, almost aggressively, with a flick of his wrist. About 100 feet away, you can see a house tucked away behind some brush. Your probable destination.
He shifts in his seat so he’s completely facing you, his eyebrows lifted in an inquisitive fashion. In that moment, you knew you were completely fucked. You did not censor yourself when it mattered most.
“It wasn’t a dream, was it?” He insists, pushing his hand up on the center console that your hand is still locked onto, “That night you drove me home.”
He did remember.
Even with the heat blasting from the vents, a static chill runs down your back.
“It wasn’t a dream,” You practically whisper, your leg starting to bounce with nerves.
He slams his hand on the console, gritting his teeth. “Damn it! I knew it!”
You didn’t expect him to react this way. He tucks his bottom lip under his top teeth before pulling his lips between his pointer finger and thumb in contemplation. You do not dare say a word, fearful he may be mad. Why would he be? That you did not know.
“So what you’re telling me is,” He huffs, tapping his fingers furiously on the leather of the steering wheel. His eyes soften before tilting his head back to you, “I could’ve… kissed you already?”
Your breathing is labored as your hand twitches towards his.
You are so stupid.
“If you wanted to.”
He leans forward, his hand moving from the console with one swift movement. He grabs the nape of your neck, pulling you forward into his space. You are panting as his lips hover above yours for a brief moment. Your air is pushed away by his exhalations before his face is taut with yours. Noses pressed into each other’s cheeks. His lips taking the lead, moving against your completely motionless mouth.
You have kissed someone before. But the fervor Eddie harnesses with his mouth is remarkable. The moment his hand shifts on your neck, you relax into it, finally pressing forward into him. Your hands move to his thigh and shoulder as you balance yourself, as the heated exchange intensifies. He tastes like the mint gum he’s always chewing when a cigarette isn’t placed between his lips. There’s a hint of sweetness from the apple juice he had at lunch, which makes you smile a bit.
His touch is electric across your skin, dragging along your neck and shoulders. The goosebumps he leaves in his wake are enough to have you practically vibrating. You dig your hands into the collar of his jacket, wanting to pull him into you further, but instead, he stills his movements and pulls away slowly.
Those big brown eyes have never looked more sappy in all the time you’ve known him.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” He murmurs, his voice dropping an octave, “Didn’t think I’d do it in my middle man’s driveway.”
You cannot help but the long, drawn-out sigh that almost resembles a laugh that slips out of your mouth.
“You’ve never been conventional, Eds.”
He clicks his tongue, his hand slowly pulling back from your neck. “You got that right.”
You are both ripped from your blissful state by the sound of rumbling tires behind the van. You both turn in unison to look out the back windows, seeing a familiar colored car dodging the same potholes you two just did.
As the car gets closer and the dust settles from all the kick up, the face you spot in the front passenger seat makes your body go as stiff as a board.
hey friends, gracie here! changed my url, but my main blog is still gracieheartspedro! so you'll still see me liking your posts with that url! this second blog (that is the one i use the most) is now munsonstorm <3
