all the avengers (including sam and bucky obviously) living in the compound with the occasional visit of thor, and yes he’s in the kitchen with his pop tarts, clint in the vents, peter in the lab with tony and bruce or patrolling the streets in his free time and them all being one big happy family (and not just coworkers!!!!) is my canon. like that scene in age of ultron??? thats their friday if they’re not on a mission
some camgirl!reader and perv!eddie munson thoughts...
eddie knows he should be saving up to get out of hawkins-- but he just can't help himself. he's portioned off his pay from the autoshop and the plant to spend on this pretty cam girl he came across one day when he accidentally clicked on an ad when watching porn
at first he thought he wouldn't get addicted... but she was just so sweet and so gorgeous... the way she would bend over and arch her back.. the saccharine lull of her voice when she addresses those who were watching..
and the best part? she wasn't that famous. she had a good number watching her, but not enough that eddie didn't have to compete too hard and blow his savings on getting to chat to her.
sometimes eddie thinks its parasocial but most of the time, he thinks its really meant for him. she just has a certain look she gives whenever she sees his name pop up with a generous donation.
"oh..! master_of_puppets coming in with the big dono," she'd sing, staring straight into his soul through the camera. her painted lips would curl up into a soft smile and eddie swears he can see her eyes shine. "thank you, baby. send me a chat sometime-- you're practically a regular this point."
and eddie never does. he can't bring himself to. it just felt.. anxious to him. it felt more intimate and for some reason, that just sends him into a spiral. but maybe one day, one day he'll get to that point
description: eddie's sick of corroded coffin's current standstill. gareth heard from a friend of a friend of a distant cousin who made a deal at a crossroads and got everything they wanted, and more. eddie takes it amongst himself to make a deal, in hopes to give corroded coffin it's well-deserved fame. little does he know what's at stake to make this deal official.
pairing: virgin!eddie x demon!reader (fem!reader)
tags: eddie x demon!reader, no y/n, crossroads demon, supernatural coded as FUCK, succubus reader, sub!eddie, dom!reader (she's a demon, duh), this is basically all smut lol, inexperienced eddie, fear & desire combo, he's terrified but completely into it, power play, edging, overstimulation, "good boy" energy, horny but scared
TW: NSFW (18+) minors do not interact!!, PiV, unprotected (yk me), power play asf, eddie being a good little boy
WC: 3.4k
A/N: this idea came from a mix of a request from @meowtherkat and a suggestion from @brrrainst3w... and my ass loves making anything supernatural coded if it has to do with eddie...wink wink hint hint at a potential new seriesssssss🫣 anywayys, reblogs are always appreciated<3 yk the drill by now. enjoy ;)
The instructions had been… oddly specific.
Eddie had read them ove on a crumpled page Gareth swore he found in some back corner of a used occult shop two towns over.
“Crossroads deal,” Eddie mutters under his breath, crouched in the middle of the empty stretch of road just outside Hawkins.
Midnight had come and gone, the air thick and still in that way that makes every sound feel louder than it should.
He glances around once, nothing but trees, darkness, and the faint hum of cicadas.
“Okay. Cool. Totally normal. Not insane at all.”
From a small metal box at his side, he pulls out the items one by one, checking them like he’s about to run a ritual and a D&D campaign at the same time.
Black cat bone.
Graveyard dirt.
And a torn picture of himself, taken from Hellfire's yearbook photo.
The box itself is cheap; just something he stole from Wayne’s shed—but he’d lined it carefully, exactly how the instructions said. Everything placed just right, everything meaning something.
Because this? This matters. Corroded Coffin matters.
They deserve more than playing to half-drunk crowds at The Hideout. They deserve something real. Something bigger. And if this is what it takes?
Eddie exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.
“Alright, Munson,” he murmurs. “You wanted a big break? This is the part where you commit.”
Then he starts digging.
It’s quick, messy work; shallow, just enough to bury the box in the center of the crossroads. Dirt under his nails, knees pressing into gravel. When it’s done, he places the box inside, covers it, and presses the earth flat with his palm.
And when he stands, he winces like he’s expecting the ground to explode underneath him. Eddie blinks.
“…That’s it?” he says to absolutely no one. “No thunder? No dramatic wind? Not even, like, a creepy—”
The wind shifts just enough to make the hair on his shoulders sway sideways. Eddie freezes.
“…Okay,” he whispers, suddenly very aware of his heartbeat. “Okay, that’s new.”
“Y’know,” a voice says softly behind him, “most people at least hesitate before doing something this stupid.”
Eddie spins around so fast he nearly trips, and there you are. Leaning casually against the invisible line where the road meets the dark, like you’ve been there the whole time.
You’re not what he expected: not smoke and fire, not monstrous. No, worse. You’re beautiful, and dangerously so.
Every detail of you feels deliberate, like you were built to be looked at. Your eyes catch the low moonlight, reflecting red in a way that definitely isn't human. Your smile is slow, knowing, and just a little too sharp at the edges.
And the way you’re looking at him?
Eddie stares. “…Holy shit.”
You tilt your head, amused.
“This is usually the part where people run,” you say lightly. “Or scream. Sometimes both.”
“Yeah, well,” he says, swallowing hard but squaring his shoulders anyway, “I’ve seen worse.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Have you?”
“…Okay, not worse,” he admits. “But, like, comparable? Maybe?”
That gets a soft laugh out of you.
You push off where you’re standing and step closer. Eddie doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, actually. Because now that you’re closer, it’s worse.
The air around you feels different, like standing too close to a live wire. And there’s something else, too; something pulling at him, like gravity just shifted and decided you were the center of it.
“Eddie Munson,” you say, his name rolling off your tongue like you’ve known it forever. “Guitarist. Dreamer. Chronic bad decision maker.”
He huffs a nervous laugh. “Wow. You really did your homework.”
“I don’t have to,” you murmur, circling him slowly. “People like you? You practically ooze disappointment.”
He tracks your movement, trying not to look too affected by the way your presence wraps around him.
“Yeah?” he says. “And what exactly is ‘people like me’?”
You stop just in front of him.
Close enough that he can feel the chill of you, and the heat beneath it.
“Desperate,” you say softly. “Hungry. Willing to trade anything for a shot at being seen.”
Eddie’s jaw tightens slightly.
“…Not anything,” he says.
Your smile deepens.
“Mm,” you hum, unconvinced. “We’ll see.”
“Alright,” he says, forcing his voice steady. “You’re here. So that means this worked, right? The whole…” he gestures vaguely at the ground, “...ritual, box, crossroads thing?”
“It worked,” you confirm.
“And that means… you make deals.”
“I do.”
Eddie exhales, running a hand over the back of his neck.
“Okay. Cool. Great. Awesome.” He nods once, like he’s psyching himself up. “Then let’s uh. Let’s do this.”
You watch him, curious now. “What might your wish be?”
“I want Corroded Coffin to make it,” he says. “Like, really make it. Crowds, records, the whole thing. I want people to hear us. I want—” he cuts himself off, shakes his head. “I just want a shot.”
“And in return?” you ask.
Eddie hesitates again.
“…My soul,” he says, quieter now.
"See?” you murmur, stepping even closer, your voice dropping just enough to send something sharp and electric down his spine. “Knew you’d be willing to trade anything."
Eddie swallows.
“…So is that a yes or?”
“It’s a yes,” you say.
His breath catches. And then you lean in, close enough that your lips almost brush his ear, your voice barely above a whisper.
“But here’s the thing, Eddie…”
A pause and a smile, he can hear.
“Under normal circumstances, this type of deal would be sealed with a kiss…but a deal with a virgin? That’s like, double the paygrade down there.”
“Okay—first of all—” he pulls back, blinking at you, flustered. “You don’t know that.”
You tilt your head, amused.
“Oh?” you hum.
“Yeah,” he says quickly, a little too quickly. “I mean what, you just, what, guessing now? That’s your big demon power? Wild assumptions?”
You take a step closer, and Eddie stops talking. Because now you’re really in his space.
Close enough that he can feel the cool edge of your presence, the strange pull of it, like something in him is leaning toward you whether he wants it to or not.
You inhale softly, and your smile deepens.
“I’m not guessing,” you say.
Your gaze flicks back up to his, slow and deliberate. “You smell like it.”
Eddie chokes.
“What?" he physically recoils half a step, hands coming up like that’ll somehow defend him. “That’s not a thing. That is not a thing people can…What does that even mean?”
You just watch him spiral, clearly enjoying yourself now.
“People can't smell purity," you say lightly. "But me? You reek of it."
His face goes bright red.
“Okay, wow. Cool. Great. Love that for me,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “Super glad I dug a hole in the middle of nowhere for this specifically.”
You step closer again, because the feeling of his fear feeds a hunger you can’t ignore. Eddie doesn’t move this time. Can’t, really.
“…It also means,” you add, quieter now, your voice dipping just slightly, “your soul’s… untouched.”
Your fingers brush lightly against his wrist; barely there, but enough to make him freeze.
“And those?” you murmur, eyes flicking to his. “They’re always the most interesting.”
Eddie swallows. “…Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Eddie’s breath is shallow, his eyes wide and dark.
“So… what happens now?” he asks, voice cracking on the last word like a teenager who just realized the campaign boss has bigger teeth than expected. “You take the soul and poof? Or do we…?”
Your laugh is low, velvet-wrapped sin. “Oh, sweetheart. We seal it properly.” You slide your fingers up his wrist, over the frantic flutter of his pulse, then higher, tracing the tendon along his forearm. “A kiss for an ordinary soul. But yours?”
You lean in until your lips hover a breath from his. “Yours is untouched. Pure. And down in Hell, that kind of untouched virginity is worth double. Dark Lord's going to be praising me for it for the next century.”
Eddie makes a strangled noise, eyes darting like he's considering running.
“Focus, Eddie.” You press one finger to his lips, then let it drag down slowly, catching on the plush lower one.
“You want your band to make it? Records. Crowds. The whole screaming, sold-out dream?” Your other hand settles on his chest, right over his rabbiting heart. “Then give me what no one else has ever had.”
He stares at you for one long, reeling second; fear, want, and that stubborn Munson fire all tangled together. Then his hands find your waist like he’s been dying to touch you since the moment you appeared.
“Fuck it,” he breathes. “Take it.”
You don’t give him time to second-guess.
The grass is cool and slightly damp when you push him down, straddling his hips in one smooth motion. Eddie lands on his back with a soft “oof,” staring up at you like you’re the only star left in the sky.
You peel his vest open, then his shirt, exposing the pale stretch of his chest, the scatter of dark hair, the faint scars from the Upside Down he still carries. When you lean down and drag your tongue over one nipple, Eddie arches with a broken sound that goes straight between your legs.
“Shit—warn a guy…” he gasps, hips jerking up instinctively.
You smile against his skin. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Clothes come off in a messy rush; his jeans shoved down just enough, your dress hiked up, no patience for anything graceful.
The moment you wrap your hand around him he keens, head tipping back into the grass, throat bared like an offering.
“Easy, rockstar,” you purr, straddling his hips and pinning his wrists above his head with one hand. “You’re not rushing this. I’m going to take my time with you.”
He’s hard, leaking already, velvet and steel under your fingers. Virgin, untouched, and absolutely delicious.
Eddie’s breath hitches. “O-okay… yeah. Fuck. Whatever you want.”
You smile, sharp and wicked. “Good boy.”
You stroke him gently once, “Shit!”
You lean down, lips brushing his ear. “First rule tonight? You don’t come until I say so. Understand?”
He nods frantically, curls sticking to his forehead. “Y-yes. God, yes.”
You start slow. Teasing. Your hand works him in long, languid pulls while you rock your hips against his thigh, letting him feel how wet you already are.
Every time his breath starts to hitch and his thighs tremble, you slow down or stop completely, squeezing the base until the edge fades.
First time, it's barely two minutes in. His cock twitches desperately in your grip, pre-cum dripping over your knuckles.
“P-please—” he whines, head tossing side to side in the grass.
You click your tongue. “Already? Pathetic. And adorable.”
You lean down and drag your tongue up the side of his throat, tasting salt and desperation. “Not yet, Eddie. I want you aching for it.”
Second time: you finally sink down on him, taking him to the hilt in one smooth glide. He’s thick, stretching you perfectly, and the sound he makes is pure sin.
You ride him deep and steady, rolling your hips in filthy circles, clenching around him on every downstroke. His hands fly to your waist, fingers digging into your skin.
“Fuck—fuck, you feel— so good— I can’t—”
You stop moving the second his rhythm turns frantic.
“No,” you command softly, still fully seated on his cock. “Breathe.”
Eddie lets out a wrecked sob, hips twitching helplessly beneath you. “You’re evil, holy shit...”
You laugh, low and warm, and roll your hips once, twice, just enough to keep him throbbing inside you before you lift off completely. He whines at the loss, cock slapping wetly against his stomach.
Third time: you slide down his body and take him into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the head, suck him deep until he hits the back of your throat, then pull back with a filthy pop. You tease him like this for what feels like forever, stroking, licking, sucking just enough to keep him right on the razor’s edge.
Eddie’s a mess beneath you. Babbling. Cursing. Begging in that pretty, broken voice.
“Please, I need...I’ll give you anything. My soul, my life, fuck, just let me come—”
You crawl back up and sink onto him again, this time facing away so he has the perfect view of your ass as you ride him reverse. The new angle makes him hit deeper, brushing that spot inside you that has you moaning too.
You reach between your legs and rub your clit in tight circles while you work him mercilessly; fast, then slow, clenching around him every time he gets close.
Fourth time. Fifth. By now he’s crying, actual tears shining in his lashes and streaming down his cheeks, body shaking, skin slick with sweat, hips jerking up desperately every time you pause.
You finally turn around, facing him again, and brace your hands on his chest. Your eyes glow faintly, infernal red in the moonlight.
“Look at me, Eddie.” You say, smearing the tear down his cheek with your thumb and place it in your mouth, relishing in the salty tang of his desperation. His eyes snap to yours, glassy and desperate.
“You’ve been so good,” you whisper, starting to ride him hard now; deep, punishing strokes that make obscene wet sounds in the quiet night. “Such a sweet little thing you are.”
Eddie’s hands grip your thighs hard enough to bruise. “Please, I’m so close— please let me—”
You lean down, bite his bottom lip, and growl against his mouth.
“Come.”
The command snaps something inside him. Eddie comes with a shattered cry, back arching clean off the grass as he spills deep inside you, hot, endless pulses that seem to go on forever.
His whole body convulses with it, thighs trembling, fingers digging into your skin like you’re the only real thing left in the world.
You follow right after, grinding down hard and letting your own release crash over you in sharp, pulsing waves.
For a long minute there’s only ragged breathing and the distant sound of cicadas.
Eddie lies boneless beneath you, chest heaving, eyes half-lidded and dazed. His lips are kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed dark, hair a wild mess in the grass.
“Jesus Christ,” he rasps eventually, voice completely wrecked. “I think I just died. Like, actually died. Best death ever.”
You laugh softly and brush damp curls off his forehead, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to his temple.
“Deal’s sealed, rockstar. Corroded Coffin is going to blow up. Sold-out tours. Records. The whole dream.” You roll your hips once more, just to feel him twitch inside you. “And every time you step on stage, you’re going to remember exactly how you paid for it.”
“…So,” he rasps, dragging a hand over his face like he’s trying to re-enter his own body. “What happens now?”
You don’t answer right away. Instead, you trace your fingers lightly along his jaw, tilting his head just enough to make him look at you.
Your smile is softer now, but somehow worse.
“Now?” you echo, almost thoughtful.
“Now you get everything you asked for.”
Eddie lets out a shaky breath, something like relief flickering across his face, until your thumb presses just slightly harder against his chin.
“And usually,” you continue, voice dropping, “there’s a timeline.”
He swallows. “…Yeah?”
“Ten years,” you say simply. “Ten years of fame, fortune, everything your little heart desires.” Your gaze drags over him, lingering just long enough to make heat creep back into his expression. “And then I come back… and collect what’s mine.”
“…Right,” he mutters.
“But you,” you murmur, leaning in just enough that your lips hover near his again, “aren’t exactly standard inventory.”
He blinks. “…I’m not?”
A quiet, amused breath leaves you.
“Untouched,” you say, softer now, but heavier. “Unclaimed. Do you have any idea how rare that is down there?”
Eddie makes a face. “I’m starting to get the impression I should be offended.”
“You should be grateful,” you correct.
A pause, then, almost lazily: “I think I’ll give you twenty.”
“…Twenty?” he repeats.
“Mhm.” You straighten slightly, studying him. “Double the time. Double the investment.”
Eddie lets out a breath that almost turns into a laugh. “Wow. So what, I should say thank you?”
You tilt your head. “You can,” you say lightly. “But it won’t change anything.”
He huffs, shaking his head a little, still trying to process all of it.
“…Will I see you again?” he asks.
That seems to amuse you most of all, and your smile turns slow.
“Oh, Eddie,” you murmur.
You lean in one last time, brushing your lips just barely against his ear.
“I have to keep a very close eye on you now.” Your voice drops, velvet-dark and threaded with something possessive. “Wouldn’t want you trying to slip out of the deal early.”
Your fingers trail down his chest, over his heart, lingering there just long enough to make his breath catch again.
“And besides…” you add, almost teasing now, “I think I’m going to enjoy watching you.”
Eddie exhales, somewhere between nervous and completely, hopelessly intrigued.
“…Yeah,” he mutters. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”
“See you around, rockstar.”
Then, before he can add another comment, the weight on top of him vanishes. He swings his head around too fast, neck protesting, eyes scanning the empty stretch of road.
No lingering shadow, no trace of you. Just the quiet hum of cicadas again. The crossroads. The same stupid patch of dirt he dug up an hour ago, like an absolute idiot.
Eddie blinks.
“…Okay,” he breathes.
“…Okay, that—”
He pushes himself up onto his elbows, then sits fully, running both hands through his hair like he can physically reset his brain.
“—that happened.”
His shirt is half open. His chest still feels wrong, too warm, too charged, like something’s still sitting right under his skin. His heart hasn’t slowed down yet. Doesn’t feel like it can.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “I just—”
He stands up, slowly padding over to the van and shoves the keys in the ignition. Needless to say it was a quiet and confused ride home for the future rockstar.
When he get’s back to the trailer, the phone is already ringing.
“—Eddie?!”
Gareth’s voice explodes through the line, loud and borderline frantic.
“Dude, where the hell have you been?! I’ve been trying to reach you for like twenty minutes!”
Eddie presses the phone tighter to his ear, still trying to catch his breath.
“I was, uh, busy,” he says, because what else is he supposed to say? Sorry, man, was just selling my soul at a crossroads?
“What’s wrong?” he adds quickly. “Why are you blowing up my phone?”
“…We got a call.”
Eddie freezes.
“…What?”
“The tape,” Gareth rushes, words tripping over each other. “The one we sent in? To that label in the city? They, dude, they called back.”
Eddie’s grip on the phone tightens.
“No way,” he says immediately. “No, you’re messing with me.”
“I’m not!” Gareth practically yells. “I swear to God, I’m not! They want us to come in, like, in person, man. A studio session. They wanna hear us live.”
Eddie’s heart stutters. “…When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“…Tomorrow?” Eddie repeats, voice going thin.
“Yeah, tomorrow!” Gareth says. “We have to be in New York by the afternoon. Jeff’s already freaking out, man, we don’t even know how we’re gonna—”
Eddie stops hearing the rest, because this whole ordeal feels like a dream. A sick, yet awesome dream, with a 20 year time limit. The mix of emotions swelling in his chest makes him want to puke and laugh all at once.
“…Eddie?” Gareth says. “You there?”
Eddie swallows.
“…Yeah,” he says, quieter now. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“…We’ll make it,” he says finally, a little dazed.
Gareth lets out a sharp laugh. “Dude, we have to, this is it!”
Eddie huffs out a breath that almost feels like a laugh.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “This is it.”
single tear down my leg
taglist is open!!
-please let me know if i forgot anyone i do b forgetting sometimes i apologize
summary: you and your coworker, eddie, are polar opposites when it comes to aesthetic. but maybe you have more than just a love for music in common deep down...
wc: 7.7k
cw: coworkers to lovers, opposites attract, modern au, jealousy, marking/hickeys, pining eddie, p in v sex (unprotected) oral (f recieving) fingering, dirty talk, pet names (princess, sweetheart, sweet girl dirty/filthy girl), eddie talks a lot during sex, over stimulation, multiple female orgasms, D/s dynamic, dom!eddie, cream pie, after care, fluffy ending, an adorable one eyed cat named ozzy.
love notes: ahhhhhh this has been in the brainstorming stage foreverrrrrr. i hope you guys love it. i really love giving eddie a cat in modern au fics. i just think its so cute. ummmm i really enjoyed the smut in here as well, so hopefully you do too hehe
masterlist | consider buying me ko-fi | join my taglists
"So, over here are the new releases," your coworker's voice sounded vastly uninterested in teaching you literally anything. "Mostly a mix of stuff. That's newly released. Hence the name."
He seemed almost bored with training you. He ran a hand through his long curly brown hair, like he'd rather be anywhere else. "Any other questions, rookie?"
You were new to Melody Records, a tiny record store tucked into a corner of downtown. You'd been looking for a job for a while, something with a little more character than flipping burgers, and you saw a ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the window. Sure, you didn’t look like the usual employee here, but you knew your stuff. The owner, John Melody, had hired you on the spot after you geeked out about finding an original pressing of a Joy Division bootleg.
But Eddie, your new coworker, clearly didn't see it that way.
To him, you were just the new girl. With your pink cardigan and your little bow in your hair, a stark contrast to the black band tees and ripped jeans that seemed to be the store's unofficial uniform.
"Are you always this... 'enthusiastic' when you train new employees?"
He definitely didn't expect the sarcasm that dripped over every word. His head tilted, a flicker of surprise in his dark eyes. A slow, easy grin spread across his face, the kind that made you wonder if it was genuine or just another part of the uniform.
"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "Just trying to manage expectations. Most newbies last about a week. Usually after trying to alphabetize 'The' under 'T'. Plus... you don't really look the part, sweetheart."
You grimaced at the name. It was condescending, almost paternalistic. You hated it.
"And what 'part' is that, exactly?"
He gestured vaguely at you, at your pastel outfit and the little floral purse you had tucked behind the counter. "The Melody Records part. John's got a thing for lost causes, I guess."
You straightened up, pulling your shoulders back. The soft cashmere of your cardigan suddenly felt like armor. "Oh that is hilarious."
You let out an actual laugh at that as he stood there, eyebrow quirked and arms crossed. "Yeah? How so?"
"Eddie Munson. King of nonconforming, judging someone on their aesthetic." The words came out sharp, precise, each one a tiny pinprick. "My musical knowledge is just as deep as yours, I guarantee it. The fact that I like skirts doesn't mean I can't tell you the difference between black metal and death metal."
Eddie's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he recovered. He leaned against the counter, the worn wood creaking under his weight, and watched you, a new, more assessing light in his gaze.
"So the princess has bite," he mused, the nickname an experiment. "Alright, then. Go help him."
He nodded over to a man who had just walked in, leather vest creaking as he browsed the punk section. You recognized the patch on his back from a local band, The Flesh Riot. He looked lost.
"I could be wrong," you said, not moving an inch, "but something tells me he's looking for early UK anarcho-punk. I'd start him with a little Crass, maybe some Conflict. If he wants something more American, MDC's a safe bet."
You turned back to Eddie, raising an eyebrow in perfect, challenging symmetry to his earlier gesture. "Or I could just point him to the Taylor Swift section. Since I'm probably only qualified to sell that, right?"
A choked, surprised laugh escaped Eddie's lips. It was rough, unused, but it was real. He looked at the man, then back at you, and for the first time, the condescending amusement was gone, replaced by something grudgingly impressed.
"Let's just get you trained on the register system. It's older than dirt." Eddie sounded almost... subdued.
It had been three weeks. Three weeks of shared shifts, bickering over the correct way to file compilations, and the slow, steady erosion of Eddie's initial assumptions.
You were here together after close, doing your first Sunday night inventory together. The usual music was shut off, and instead some low folk you could both agree on played distantly on your phone.
That's when you heard the sound again. Skittering above you, like something was running across the floor upstairs.
"Oh my god, what is that sound? It's driving me insane." You groaned.
Eddie looked up from his clipboard, pausing for a moment. "There's an apartment upstairs."
"Okay. Who lives there? A bunch of rowdy gnomes?"
He shakes his head and looks back to his list, hiding a smile. "Nah, John used to back in the day before he married Marie and they had kids. Now he rents it out to some lowlife with a cat."
"There's been a random guy living above our workplace that I don't know, and you just... didn't tell me?" You stared at him, aghast. "For three weeks? You let me walk into the store alone for three weeks, knowing there's a stranger upstairs?"
You slapped him on the arm, half-joking, half-serious.
He rubbed the spot where you'd hit him, feigning injury. "Hey! What was that for?"
"For being a terrible coworker! What if he's a creep?"
"Oh he's definitely a creep. The creepiest. Hear he worships Satan and sacrifices bunnies in the upstairs bathroom." He's looking dead at you as he says this, and you don't believe it for a second.
You roll your eyes and go back to tallying the 7-inch singles, but you can't shake the image of some pale, gaunt figure performing a dark ritual in the bathroom while you were stocking shelves downstairs.
An hour or so goes by and you're finally finished. Eddie walks you to the front door but doesn't head out with you.
"Uh, is there more to do? If you're going to stay and take all the extra hours that's kind of ass, Munson. I need money too." You said, half-joking, but still confused.
He just smirked and gestured upstairs. "I'm going up."
"To the devil worshipping, bunny sacrificialist's apartment?"
"Hey, he's also a really good cat owner and guitarist. Don't put people in a box." He says with a wink.
"Wait, you live here?" The question comes out as a choked whisper, a flurry of realizations hitting you all at once.
"Surprise," he says, but there's no malice in it now, just a weird sort of gentleness you haven't heard before. "Told you. Total creep up there."
He doesn't wait for you to process, just gives you a two-fingered salute and shuts the door behind you, locking it from the inside. You watch him head upstairs.
Another month goes by and you're early for your shift. Shivering from the cold, you hold a tray with two hot coffees in one hand, unlocking the door with the other.
You and Eddie have built up a bond of sorts. You talk about music, of course, debating the merits of '80s goth versus '90s grunge until your voices are hoarse. He's learned you have a soft spot for sad, twee indie pop, and you've discovered his surprisingly encyclopedic knowledge of folk singer-songwriters.
The bickering is still there, but it's morphed. It's less barbed, more like a well-rehearsed routine. It's comfortable. Sometimes even bordering on flirting.
"It is like, freezing out there dude." You say to the store, assuming he's already downstairs. "I swear I am not built for the cold."
You set the coffee tray down, shrugging off your pink peacoat and unwrapping your scarf. "Brought you coffee. But, don’t worry, it's black. Because I know you're too good for sugar and cream like a normal person." You're talking to the empty store, the words echoing slightly in the quiet space.
A floorboard by the back creaks and you turn, expecting to see Eddie.
What does greet you is a woman, slightly disheveled in a way that screams 'I just had a very good night'. Her dark hair is a mess, and she's wearing what is unmistakably one of Eddie's sweatshirts over a tight black dress. She pauses, shoes in one hand and she looks just as surprised to see you.
"Oh!" You both say at the same time.
The awkwardness hangs in the air, thick and suffocating.
"Um... Eddie said the exit was down here but... I think I picked the wrong door."
"Yeah, the one on the left... goes out to the alley," you manage, your throat suddenly tight. "Easy mistake."
As if on cue, you hear fast footsteps coming down the stairs, and Eddie appears, pulling on a t-shirt, hair a chaotic mess. He freezes when he sees you, then sees the woman, then looks back at you.
"Shit. Hey. Morning."
"Morning," you parrot back, trying very hard to look anywhere but at them.
This is fine. This is totally fine.
Why do you care what he does? It's his home, technically. He can have whoever he wants over.
But the image of her, in his sweatshirt, flashes in your mind. A hot, acidic feeling bubbles in your stomach.
She's pretty, in a way that is very different to you. Sharp, defined angles, a confident smirk. She's one of the sleek black cats to your fluffy pink kitten.
"So, this is awkward," she says with a small, breathy laugh, breaking the tension.
"Hey, no worries sweetheart, I'll walk you out. Left door, okay?" Eddie says, all charm and confidence. The nickname, the one he'd used on you that first day, now lands differently when directed at someone else. It feels cheap. Transactional.
The girl and Eddie disappear through the back door, her giving you an awkward wave. The silence that follows is heavy, loaded with unspoken things. You busy yourself with getting the register ready, the movements stiff and robotic. The back door opens and the shuts a few minutes later. You don't look up.
"Listen," Eddie's voice is low, careful. "About that."
"Don't," you cut him off, your own voice surprisingly steady. "You don't owe me an explanation. It's your... apartment. Your life."
"Yeah, sure," he starts heading toward you and pulling his hair into a low ponytail. His neck had faint marks you pretended not to notice. "But it's also our workplace. And that was... not my most professional moment. I'm sorry."
You risk a glance at him. He looks genuine, which only makes it worse. You force a smile that feels brittle on your face.
"You're fine. I brought coffee." You point at the tray, changing the subject with all the subtlety of a foghorn.
He looks at the two cups, then at you. He picks up the one you designated as his, his name on it in your bubbly handwriting with a little heart, and takes a long sip. A small, genuine smile touches his lips.
"Thanks, princess," he says, the nickname falling between you, heavy with new, complicated layers. "This might just save my life."
"Speaking of... professional…" You finish counting the money. "I think you should probably stop calling me that."
He pauses mid-sip, raising an eyebrow. "Princess?"
"Yes. We're coworkers. Equals. It feels... demeaning. Now."
"Now?" A smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. You want to wipe it off with your own hands.
"Yes. Now," you snap, your carefully constructed composure cracking. "Maybe when I started I was your 'rookie', but I've earned my spot here. I'm not your princess."
For a long moment, he just looks at you.
Something flashes on his face that looks a lot like hurt, which is ridiculous. He nods, slowly.
"Okay. Fair enough."
"Good."
"Good."
The morning proceeds in a tense, quiet efficiency. The usual banter is gone, replaced by the sterile sound of tape guns sealing boxes and the rustle of plastic sleeves. You're pointedly not looking at him, and he's pointedly not talking to you.
"I don't, like, have women over every night or something." He says at one point, when there's a lull in customers.
You pause. "I really didn't ask."
"I know, I know. I just... wanted to clarify that I'm not some... man-whore." He looks so awkward saying the words it almost makes you smile.
Almost.
"Your neck says otherwise, Eddie." You retort, the words laced with a venom you didn't know you possessed. The instant it leaves your mouth, you regret it. It's none of your business.
"Jesus," he breathes out, running a hand over the faint purple marks. "I'm sorry you had to see that. It was... a one-time thing. She liked my band's set. We had a few drinks. It wasn't anything."
He looks so genuinely distressed, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, that your anger dissolves into a confusing, hollow ache.
"You really don't need to explain," you say, your tone softer now. "Who you bring home is your business. It was just... awkward."
"Yeah, no shit," he agrees, a little of his usual swagger returning. "I'll try not to bring anyone home who doesn't know their left and right from now on. Scout's honor." He holds up three fingers, a mock-promise.
You don't laugh. You just nod and go back to your work, the silence stretching on.
Eddie is fucked.
It's been only a week since the awkward encounter with his one night stand.
One week since you'd asked him to stop calling you princess. One week of being acutely aware of your presence, the scent of your fruity perfume, the gentle click of your heeled boots on the wooden floorboards, the way you'd hum along to whatever was playing on the store's speakers, a soft, off-key counter-melody that he found himself straining to hear over the actual music.
He is, as they say, completely and utterly fucked.
Because you weren't talking to him. Not full silent treatment, but not the easy bickering he'd come to rely on. The silence was a new form of torture.
It all came to a head when he'd been helping a customer find an obscure post-punk record, and when he'd turned to ask you a question about the stockroom inventory, he'd found you with your phone in your hand, a brilliant, genuine smile lighting up your face as you texted someone back.
The hot, possessive surge of jealousy was so potent it almost knocked him backward. He'd wanted to smash the phone.
It hit him like a ton of bricks that maybe he wanted you to be his. His princess. An honorific you’ve recently denied him from using.
"You're being really brooding right now."
Gareth's voice, muffled by his mouthful of fries, pulled Eddie from his thoughts.
"Yeah, man. You're doing more staring at that beer than actually drinking it." Jeff raised an eyebrow.
It was Friday night at the Hideout and Corroded Coffin had just played a gig for a crowd of at least ten drunks.
"I'm not brooding," Eddie grumbled, taking a large swallow of his beer.
He was thinking about the way your nose crinkled when you laughed. He was thinking about how he'd accidentally overheard you on the phone with your mom, your voice soft and sweet as you reassured her you were eating enough.
That. That right there was the problem.
"You're thinking about the new girl, aren't you?" Gareth grinned, a knowing look on his face.
"Her name is not 'the new girl'," Eddie snapped, a little too quickly. "And no, I'm not."
"Liar," Jeff chimed in. "You only get this constipated look when you're thinking about a girl."
Eddie's mind flashed back to that morning. The look on your face. The venom in your tone when you'd said, ‘Your neck says otherwise, Eddie.’ He hadn't been able to get it out of his head.
"She's not even your type, man," Gareth continued, oblivious to the inner turmoil he was stoking. "Isn't she like, all... pink and fluffy?"
"And she asked him to stop calling her 'princess'," Jeff added with a smirk. "That's gotta hurt the ego."
"It does," Eddie mumbled into his beer. "It really, really does."
He just shook his head and signaled the bartender for another round.
"She caught one of my... groupie conquests, trying to escape through the store," Eddie admitted, finally giving in.
Jeff and Gareth's laughter was loud and obnoxious.
"You're an idiot, Munson," Jeff said, clapping him on the back. "An absolute idiot."
"Yeah, well, tell me something I don't know," Eddie grumbled.
"So what's the plan?" Gareth asked, suddenly serious. "Are you going to, you know, talk to her? Like a normal human being?"
"And say what? 'Hey, sorry you saw me with another woman, but I'm actually hopelessly in love with the way you organize the vinyl'?" Eddie scoffed. "Yeah, that'll go over well."
"Just... talk to her, man," Jeff urged. "You guys have a lot in common, despite the... aesthetic differences. You're both nerds about music. Start there."
That night, lying in bed, the sounds of the sleeping city filtering through his window, Eddie couldn't stop thinking about you.
The way you hairbow bounces a little when you danced behind the counter to some obscure power pop song he'd put on.
The way your face lit up when a customer would ask you for a recommendation you were passionate about.
Your perfect pink pout when he annoyed you.
Yeah. He was so fucked.
The next day you walked into the store and the air immediately felt different. Eddie was already behind the counter, furiously scribbling something in a notebook.
It was starting to snow, the weather app on your phone saying it was going to be a bad one, so you were grateful for the warmth of the store. You hung your coat and went to the counter.
"Morning."
He looked up, and for a second, you saw panic flash across his face before he slammed the notebook shut.
"Hey pri-" Eddie caught himself, jaw tightening. "Hey. Morning." The correction landed awkwardly between you, a placeholder for something more familiar.
You simply nod, and the silence stretches, filling the space with a thousand unsaid things.
"I'm surprised we're open. I doubt we're going to get a lot of customers in this blizzard." You said, trying to make small talk, anything to fill the void.
"You could have called out. I could handle it on my own. Not like I have a far commute. Just up the stairs." The tone was casual, but the offer was clear. A peace offering.
"No. I like the snow." You said, looking out the big front window. And it was true. You did. The way it muffled the world, turned everything into a soft, hazy dream. "Makes the whole city quiet."
Eddie watched you for a long moment.
Your nose was a little red from the cold, and you'd tucked your hair behind your ears. You looked so... soft. A stark contrast to the jagged, noisy feeling inside him.
You were right. There was barely any foot traffic all day.
By the time the storm got pretty bad, John called, saying you two could close up early and get home safe. The problem was your car was buried, and Eddie knew even if you tried you wouldn't get far in it.
"You can, uh, wait it out at my place if you want," Eddie said, trying to sound casual and failing spectacularly. "It's better than freezing in your car."
"My knight in shining armor." You deadpanned. "It's fine. I can walk."
"You live across town. You'll be a human popsicle by the time you get to the main road." He said, locking the front door and flipping the open sign to closed. "C’mon. I'll make us some hot cocoa. With tiny marshmallows and everything. And you can meet Ozzy."
The promise of cocoa, with tiny marshmallows, was apparently your undoing. You hesitated for a moment, then nodded, a slow, reluctant bob of your head.
"Ozzy?" You asked, a small smile finally breaking through your defenses.
"My cat. The real ruler of the apartment, Prince of Darkness himself."
You followed him up the narrow, creaking staircase, your heart thumping a strange, uneven rhythm against your ribs.
The idea of being in his space, the space he shared with other women, sent a confusing mix of anticipation and dread through you.
His apartment was exactly what you expected, and nothing like it. It was chaotic, but a lived-in, comfortable chaos.
Guitars hung on the walls, surrounded by posters of bands you both loved and loathed.
A vintage leather couch was covered in mismatched pillows and a black fuzzy blanket.
It was a studio, so the bed was just there, half made and partially hidden behind a privacy screen.
It was messy, but clean. And it smelled like him— incense, old wood, and something warm, like sandalwood and clean laundry.
Then, a sleek black cat with one enormous green eye padded out from behind the couch, the other eye a milky, cloudy white.
It made him look perpetually unimpressed with the world.
"And this is Ozzy," Eddie said, scooping the cat up with practiced ease. Ozzy tolerated the affection, purring a deep, rumbling engine against Eddie's chest. "Don't mind him. He's judging us all."
You reached out a hesitant hand, letting Ozzy sniff your knuckles.
"He's blind in that eye," Eddie said softly. "Found him in a dumpster behind the store. Someone, uh, wasn't very nice to him."
Your heart did a painful little lurch.
You looked from the scarred, one-eyed cat to the man holding him. The 'devil-worshipping' freak of Hawkins who rescued hurt animals. The contradictions piled up, making your head spin.
"He's beautiful." You say it softly, unsure which of the boys you were actually talking about.
Eddie's gaze caught yours, and for a moment, the air crackled. The unspoken things between you felt heavier than the storm raging outside.
"Yeah, well," he cleared his throat, carefully placing Ozzy back on the floor. "Cocoa. Right."
He busied himself in the small kitchenette, pulling out two mismatched mugs and a carton of milk.
You sat on the edge of the worn leather couch, hands clasped in your lap, feeling like an intruder in a life you were suddenly desperate to know.
A few minutes later, he came back with two steaming mugs, topped with a generous handful of tiny marshmallows, exactly as promised.
"Careful, it's hot." He set yours down on the cluttered coffee table.
You took a cautious sip. The chocolate was rich and dark, and the tiny marshmallows melted into a sweet, sugary foam on your tongue.
"Thank you." You murmur, wrapping your hands around the warm ceramic.
"It's no problem." He sat down on the opposite end of the couch, a careful distance between you. "So, uh, this is the place. Palace of sin, as John calls it."
You cough a little as he says that, almost choking on your marshmallow.
"He's joking, mostly." He adds quickly, misinterpreting your reaction. "He knows I'm not really sacrificing bunnies."
"I don't think that's why he calls it the palace of sin." You say quietly into your mug, and then you look at him. You look him directly in the eye, and it's the first real, sustained eye contact you've had since the morning with the girl in the sweatshirt.
"You really think I'm some kind of slut, don't you?"
The question hangs in the air, raw and unfiltered. It's not an accusation, not really. It's a genuine inquiry, and the vulnerability in it catches you completely off guard.
"No... I just..."
You what? Why did you care so much what he did or who he did it with? Why did you feel a heat pooling lower when his shirt would ride up or when he would stick his tongue out just slightly while concentrating?
You try to search for the words, to articulate the tangled mess of your feelings.
"I'm not judging you. I don't care who you sleep with. It's..." You trailed off, gesturing vaguely between you, the storm, the empty apartment. "I don't know what it is."
"Then what was that comment about my neck? That sounded a lot like judging." He's not angry, just… confused. A deep furrow of confusion between his brows.
"Because I was jealous, Eddie!" The confession bursts out of you, loud and uncontrolled. "I saw her. In your sweatshirt. And I hated it. Because she was... she looked like she made sense next to you. And I don't. And that makes me feel insane!"
The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the howl of the wind outside and the frantic thumping of your own heart.
Eddie's big brown eyes seemed even bigger now, wide and a little glazed. He opened his mouth, then closed it.
"You... what?" He finally manages to say.
"I was jealous!" You repeat, the admission now free, terrifying and liberating all at once.
"You were... jealous. Of... her." He's processing it, the words slowly arranging themselves into a coherent thought in his head. A slow smile spreads across his face, but it's not his usual smirk. It's something softer, a little dazed.
"Can we not? Look, I know I'm not your usual type. I'm not some cool, effortless rocker chick in black jeans and a band tee. I'm wearing a sweater with little embroidered daisies on it, for fuck’s sake. I just... I didn't expect it to bother me so much. Seeing you with... someone more your type." You finally look at him, and the vulnerability in your expression is raw, an open wound.
Eddie leans forward, closing the distance between you on the couch.
"You're an idiot," he says, and there's no venom in it. It's a mirror of what you'd said to him what felt like a lifetime ago, but this time it's gentle, almost fond. "A complete, beautiful, floral clad idiot."
You blink. "Beautiful?"
"Yes, beautiful," he says, his gaze unwavering. "And you think she's my type? Did you not hear a single word I said? She was a one-time thing. A... mistake. I was trying to get over this... girl I work with."
He takes your cocoa mug from your trembling hands and sets it on the table. Then he takes one of your hands, his calloused guitarist's fingers wrapping gently around yours.
"You're like, my dream girl. All pretty and soft but with this fire inside you. You know more about music than half the dicks who come in here trying to flex on me. You laugh at my stupid jokes. And for whatever reason, you seem to tolerate my general presence." He takes a shaky breath. "Honestly, I can't imagine why you'd ever give me a second look, but I am so glad you do."
The tears you were fighting back finally escape, tracing hot paths down your cold cheeks.
"I thought you were making fun of me," you whisper. "When you call me princess."
"I am, but it's affectionate! I think you're a princess, but like, a warrior princess. The kind who would totally behead her enemies but then cry at a sad movie." He's so close now you can feel the warmth radiating from him. "I like your little cardigans. And the bows in your hair. I like them so much."
You can't take it anymore. The tension, the longing, the weeks of misunderstanding, it all snaps.
You close the final inch of space between you, pressing your lips to his.
It's not a gentle kiss. It's messy and desperate, a collision of months of unspoken feelings. He tastes like cheap cigarettes and expensive cocoa, a combination that is somehow fitting. His hands come up to cup your face, thumbs stroking away your tears as the kiss deepens, becoming softer, more exploratory.
"Don't cry, princess," he murmurs against your lips, the nickname a caress now, a secret shared only between you two.
You shift, swinging a leg over his lap to straddle him, the worn leather against your knees and the seam of his jeans rough against the soft fabric of your tights.
He lets out a surprised laugh, hands moving to the soft curve of your hips. "Well, shit," he breathes, looking up at you with wide, adoring eyes. "Okay."
His hands grip your hips, and you can feel the hard press of him through his jeans.
"You're so pretty," he says, the words a low rasp against your skin. You lean down to kiss him again, a slow, deliberate press of your lips. This time, it's less desperate, more sure. His hands slide from your hips, up your back, tracing the line of your spine through the delicate embroidery on your cardigan. He's touching you like you're something precious, something he's afraid of breaking.
"I want this," you whisper, the confession a puff of air against his jaw. "I want you."
"You have me," he answers, his hands stilling on your back. "Eager girl."
With newfound confidence, your lips find the sensitive skin just below his ear, and you're rewarded with a sharp inhale.
"Let's," you start, a little breathless, "move this to somewhere not the couch."
"Right. The bed. Yes."
The journey is clumsy, a mess of tangled limbs and quiet laughter. He backs you towards the bed, and the backs of your knees hit the mattress, sending you falling back with a soft bounce.
He looms over you, blocking out the dim light of the single lamp in the corner, a shadow made of ink and want. He hooks a finger into your sweater, tugging it up and over your head.
You had layers on, a tank over your bra, a skirt, tights, leg warmers. You blush a little at how many items of clothing he'd have to work through.
"Aren't you a present," he mutters, his eyes raking over you. "Gonna let me unwrap you, sweet girl?"
All you can do is nod, a frantic little bob of your head.
His knuckles brush against your skin as he unbuttons your skirt, slowly pulling it down your legs. His eyes follow the path of the fabric, a dark, hungry look in them. He tosses it aside, leaving you in your tights and tank top.
"These have to go." He says, hooking a finger in the waistband of your tights. "I'll be good and not ruin them. This time."
He's careful as he peels them down, the fabric whispering against your skin. The cool air of the apartment hits your bare legs, and you shiver.
"Shhh, I've got you," he murmurs, leaning down to press a warm kiss to your knee, then another a little higher, on your inner thigh. "Gonna keep you warm."
His hands trail up your legs, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin where your thighs meet your hips. The touch is feather-light, maddeningly teasing, and you can't help but arch into it, a silent plea for more.
"Let's see if we're on the same page." he whispers, as if he can read your mind. His fingers continue their slow, deliberate journey upward, and you feel a breath catch in your throat as he traces the edge of your underwear. He hooks a finger under the damp fabric, and your whole body tenses in anticipation. "Oh, yeah. We are definitely on the same page."
With a low groan, he kneels on the floor at the foot of the bed, pulling you flush against the edge. He presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your clothed core, and the heat of his breath through the thin cotton is enough to make you gasp.
"Eddie..."
"Wet little thing already," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against you. "All for me? Just from a few kisses and some sweet talk?"
You can only manage a weak, desperate nod in response.
"Gonna treat you so good, princess." The nickname is a worshipful murmur now. "Gonna make you forget all about being jealous."
He finally slides your underwear down your legs, the cool air a shocking but welcome sensation against your slick heat. His hands gently spread your thighs, and you feel utterly exposed, completely vulnerable under the intensity of his gaze.
"Fuck," he breathes, the word a reverent whisper. "Look at you."
He leans in, and the first touch of his tongue is a revelation. It's slow, deliberate, a thorough exploration that has you writhing on the bed. He's not in a hurry. He's savoring every second, every sigh and whimper that escapes your lips.
"Mmm... this is my favorite flavor," he hums against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your entire body. "Wet, sweet, and all mine."
He focuses on your clit, drawing lazy circles with the flat of his tongue before switching to quick, precise flicks. Your hands find their way into his hair, the strands tangled between your fingers as you guide him, your hips bucking against his face in a desperate, needy rhythm.
"That's my girl," he praises, pulling back for a second to look at you. "So needy for me. Look at you, trying to fuck my face."
He's smiling, a smug, entirely too pleased smile, and you want to be annoyed, but all you can feel is a white-hot pleasure coiling tight in your belly.
"More, please, Eddie," you beg, your voice breathy and high.
"Anything for you, princess," he whispers, diving back in with renewed fervor.
He slides a long finger inside you, then another, the stretch perfect as he curls them just right, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. His tongue is relentless at your clit. His eyes are on you, so dark with lust they're almost black.
He looks like the most handsome devil and you understand why this is a den of sin as your back arches off the bed, a silent scream caught in your throat. The orgasm crashes through you, a wave of blinding pleasure that leaves you shaking and breathless.
He doesn't stop, working you through it until you're whimpering, oversensitive and boneless.
"Please," you gasp, pushing weakly at his head. "Too much."
"Too much?" He grins, pressing a final, soft kiss to your oversensitive clit before crawling up your body to loom over you. "We're just starting."
His lips crash against yours, and you taste yourself on his tongue. The intimate flavor makes your head spin. You kiss him back with a desperate hunger, your hands roaming over the familiar planes of his back, feeling the muscles tense and shift under your touch.
He lifts his shirt off and then reaches for the hem of your tank top. You raise your arms, letting him pull it over your head, revealing the simple, lacy pink bra you wore.
"Jesus Christ," he breathes, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of you. "Hiding these from me, were you?"
He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra with a practiced flick of his wrist, tossing it aside. His hands are on you then, cupping the weight of your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your already hardened nipples.
"God, I'm gonna worship these." He says, before leaning down to take one into his mouth.
He sucks and licks and nips, each tug sending a jolt straight to your core. Your back arches, pressing yourself closer, seeking more friction, more of him.
"Sensitive little thing," he murmurs against your skin before switching to the other, giving it the same, thorough attention. "Could probably make you come just from this, couldn't I?"
The thought alone is enough to make you moan.
"Yeah.. I bet I could. Maybe next time." He pulls away, a string of spit connecting his lips to your nipple. "Right now, I need to be inside you."
He stands up, making quick work of his own belt and jeans, shoving them down his legs along with his boxers. He kicks them away, and your breath catches in your throat.
It's the prettiest cock, dark curls at the base, flushed and already beading with precum at the tip. You watch, transfixed, as he gives himself a few slow, deliberate strokes.
"Yeah?" His smirk is sinful. "You like it? Like knowing you did this to me?"
"Come here," you demand, your voice thick with want.
He moves over you again, settling between your thighs. He takes himself in hand, dragging the head of his cock through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal.
"I'm on the pill," you breathe out, a desperate last-ditch effort at coherent thought.
"Thank fuck," he groans, and then he's pushing inside you.
The stretch is a steady burn as he fills you inch by inch.
"Oh, fuck," he chokes out, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "Feel so... you feel so good."
You wrap your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his back, pulling him deeper.
"Dirty girl," he chuckles, the sound of a low rumble in your ear. "Want it deep, huh?"
His hips begin to move, a slow, rocking rhythm that has you seeing stars.
"Does the pretty, soft princess like to be fucked deep and hard?" The question is a taunt, a dare, and you answer with a sharp buck of your hips, taking him even deeper. "Yeah she fucking does."
He rears up, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head with one of his, lacing your fingers together. The other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he picks up the pace.
"Perfect for me, aren't you?" He breathes, his eyes locked on yours. "Soft and sweet on the outside, but underneath, you're a dirty little thing. My dirty little thing."
"Just for you..." It comes out a whiny moan as he starts to pound into you, the headboard of his bed starting to tap against the wall.
"My good girl." He claims. The rhythm is punishing, a driving beat that pushes you toward the edge again. "Letting a monster like me defile your pretty little body."
The coil in your belly is winding up again, tighter and hotter than before.
"I'm close," you gasp, your nails digging into the back of his hand. "I'm so close."
"Mm yeah, baby. Can feel it. But you're gonna give me a few aren't you?" He coos. His pace changes to deep, grinding thrusts, the coarse hair at the base of his cock grinding deliciously against your clit. "Gonna soak my dick again and again before I'm done with you."
You whine his name as your orgasm washes over you, the pleasure so intense it borders on pain. Your walls flutter around him, gripping him tight, and he groans, a long, deep sound of satisfaction.
"Oh yeah... I'm going to make you do that again," he pants. "Look at you, can't even stop shaking."
Before you've even come down, he's flipping you over. He pulls your hips up, guiding you to your hands and knees.
"This okay?" He whispers in your ear, checking in even now, the consideration a stark contrast to the raw, primal fucking.
You nod, pushing back against him, a wordless plea for more. He eases back in, the new angle hitting even deeper.
"Jesus... look at that," he breathes, his hands gripping your ass, spreading you wide so he can watch himself disappear inside you.
He starts moving again, a faster, harder rhythm that has the headboard slamming against the wall all over again.
"Wish you could see the way this pretty pussy swallows me," he growls, punctuating his words with sharp, deep thrusts. "So greedy for me. Taking my cock so well."
His words are filthy, a string of praise and degradation that makes your head spin.
"I'm gonna have you on every surface in this apartment. The couch. The kitchen counter. Up against the window where anyone could see."
The image flashes in your mind, and a fresh wave of arousal gushes around him. "Oh you filthy fucking thing. You'd like that wouldn't you? Want someone to see what we do? See how good you take me?"
You're reduced to a series of desperate sobs and whimpers, your brain too foggy with pleasure to form a coherent response. "S'good... f-feels so..."
"Yeah, I know, princess," he pants, one of his hands snaking around to find your clit. "Got you stupid on my cock, don't I? Just a pretty, brainless mess for me."
He circles your clit with a rough thumb, and that's all it takes. The next orgasm rips through you, violent and overwhelming.
He leans over, kissing your shoulder as your body trembles. "There we go... I want one more."
"Eddie..." you protest, the word a weak puff of air. "Can't..."
"You can," he insists, his voice low and demanding. "You will."
And he proves it.
He pulls out, turning you onto your back once more. The sheets beneath you are damp, a testament to your pleasure. He looks at you with such awe, a reverence that makes your heart ache.
"My messy girl," he murmurs, spreading your legs wide. "Fucking perfect."
He slides back in, the sensation of him filling you again almost too much, and yet exactly what you crave.
Your thighs are pressed against your chest, a position that has him impossibly deep. He moves slowly this time, deep, grinding thrusts that stoke the fire in your belly all over again.
"Yeah... gonna give it to you nice and slow," he breathes, his forehead pressed against yours. "Make you feel it."
"Feel you everywhere," you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. "Everywhere..."
"You're so beautiful like this," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "All fucked out and begging. Never seen anything prettier."
The praise is your undoing. You can feel another orgasm building, a slow, deep wave that promises to be the most intense of all.
He keeps kissing you as your thighs begin to shake. It's a slow, deep, bone melting thing. You're not even making loud noises anymore, just a constant mewl into his mouth.
Then you feel him start to lose rhythm, you pussy clenching him like you never want to let him go.
"M'close... fuck... princess, you're gonna make me... make me cum... " He grunts, burying his face in your neck, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a long, shuddering groan.
His release is warm and there's so much of it that it leaks out around him, but he doesn't pull out right away.
He stays there, a heavy, comforting weight on top of you, as you both catch your breath.
"Please don't pull out," you beg, clinging to him. "Not yet."
He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound in your ear. He rolls over, taking you with him, so you're sprawled across his chest, still connected.
"I'd never pull out if I didn't have to eventually," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. He was still buried deep, softening slowly inside you. "We can stay like this as long as you want."
He shifts slightly, and you can feel a little more of him slip out. You try to clench around him to keep him in place, a futile, desperate gesture.
"Sweetheart... easy," he soothes. "We've got all night. And tomorrow. And every day after that, if you'll have me."
He pulls a blanket over your tangled, sweat-slick bodies, cocooning you in warmth.
"Like... dating?" you ask, your voice muffled against his chest.
He laughs. "No, like I'm planning on keeping you as my sex prisoner in my den of sin." He says sarcastically, then his tone gets serious. "Yes, like dating. Fucking obviously. I've been pining over you for months. You think I'm just gonna let you walk away after I finally got you into my bed?"
The idea of him pining, of Eddie Munson being just as wrecked by this quiet, aching tension as you were, makes your heart swell.
"I'd like that," you whisper. "The dating thing. Not the sex prisoner thing."
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair. "Good to know. Glad we got that cleared up. But I mean... if we're talking roleplay..."
You swat at his chest, but it's a weak, lazy motion. You feel him soften completely, finally slipping out of you. You whimper at the loss, a sudden, hollow ache.
He kisses your forehead, murmuring against your skin. "Let's get you cleaned up, princess."
He's gentle, so surprisingly gentle. He disappears into the small bathroom and returns with a warm, wet washcloth. You expected him to just toss it to you, but instead, he kneels on the bed beside you and carefully, meticulously wipes you clean.
"Really did a number on you, huh?" A soft, proud smile on his face as he looks at the mess between your thighs. "All full and swollen. Perfect."
You hide your face in your hands, a fresh wave of heat flooding your cheeks.
"No, no. Don't hide from me." He gently pulls your hands away, leaning down to kiss you, a slow, deep, claiming kiss. "Come on... shower and pee time. Maybe round two if we're lucky."
He pulls you to your feet, and your legs tremble, almost giving out from under you.
"Woah there." He catches you, scooping you up into his arms with a grunt. "I've got you. And the princess gets carried to her throne, apparently."
You can't help but laugh as he carries you into the tiny bathroom.
After you've both showered, the hot water a welcome ease to your sore muscles, he leads you back to the bed, pulling on a fresh pair of boxers before handing you a t-shirt of his, an old Metallica one that's been washed so many times it's soft and worn.
You pull it on, getting into bed next to him. Ozzy jumps up to join you, curling into a ball against your stomach with a deep, rumbling purr.
"See? He approves," Eddie murmurs, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. "And Ozzy is a very good judge of character."
You snuggle into his side, your head on his chest, listening to the steady, reassuring rhythm of his heart.
The storm has passed, and outside, the world is quiet, blanketed in a fresh layer of snow.
Inside, you're warm and safe in your own private palace of sin, the world outside melting away until there's only the two of you, and the comforting weight of a one-eyed cat, and the promise of every tomorrow.
description: eddie’s used to being the one people whisper about. until you walk into the room, and suddenly, he’s not the one being watched. you’re not sweet, you’re not safe, and you definitely don’t scare easy. good thing he’s never been afraid of a little danger.
pairing: eddie x you (fem!reader)
tags: eddie x alt!reader, nancy downs core! reader, eddie's obsessed with you, dom!reader, reader has him wrapped around her finger, "enemies" to lovers (kinda), mutual obsession, she's the moment fr, "boo"
TW: NSFW (18+) minors do not interact!!, PiV unprotected, dom! reader af
WC: 6.3k
A/N: AHH okay this request came in from my beloved @bitterestwillow i hope you love it muahmuahmuah. reblogs are always appreciated<33 also ily all sm thank you for your continued support, it means sm to me🥹okay im done no more mush ENJOYYYYYYYY!!
The rumors about you come in layers.
Not the loud, cafeteria-table kind, not the careless whispers traded between lockers. Yours are heavier, the kind that stick.
The kind people lower their voices for without even realizing it, witchy, bitchy, strange. “Don’t look her in the eye too long.”
Something about the way you smile, like you know something no one else does.
Eddie has heard all of them. And still, he watches you.
It starts small. A glance across the parking lot, your boots crunching gravel like you own the place, headphones slung around your neck, rings glinting when you push your hair back. Then it becomes a habit.
He notices what bands are scribbled across your notebooks, how you tap your pen in rhythm to something only you can hear, how you never rush, never fidget, never fill silence unless you want to.
You don’t orbit Hawkins High; it orbits you.
And that’s the problem. Because Eddie Munson, resident freak, king of Hellfire, professional loudmouth, suddenly finds himself very, very quiet whenever you’re around. He tells himself it’s your reputation, because that’s easier than admitting the truth.
“Alright, Munson and…” the teacher drones, barely glancing up from her clipboard. Even your teacher hesitates over your name, like it might bite.
Eddie’s stomach drops. Of course, of course it’s you.
You don’t react right away. You just close your notebook slowly, like you’ve known this was coming all along.
When you finally look at him, it’s not shy; you’re simply just assessing him for what he’s worth.
Eddie nearly forgets how to breathe. He lugs his chair over, trying to act like this is normal, like he hasn’t spent the last month watching you like you’re some kind of cryptid sighting.
“Uh,” he starts, then stops. Great. Smooth.
You tilt your head slightly, eyes dragging over him in a way that feels almost physical.
“You’re staring,” you say.
Your voice is softer than he expected.
“I—what? No, I’m—this is my natural face,” he deflects, gesturing vaguely to himself. “Very stare-y. It’s a condition.”
You pause for a second, then smile. Not big or warm, but just enough. Eddie’s heart does something stupid in his chest.
“Relax, Munson,” you murmur, pulling the lab sheet toward you. “I don’t bite.”
Your fingers tap once against the paper.
“Unless you give me a reason to.”
Oh. Oh, he’s done for. Working with you is disorienting, to say the least.
You don’t rush through the assignment like everyone else. You take your time, reading each step carefully, jotting notes in the margins that Eddie can’t help but lean over to read.
Your handwriting is sharp, deliberate, with little symbols and sketches mixed in with the chemistry, like it all connects somehow.
“Are you always this intense?” he asks at one point, trying to keep his voice casual.
You glance up at him. “Are you always this distracting?”
He chokes on air.
“Jesus, okay. Sorry, I’ll just—” he mimes zipping his lips, then immediately fails at it. “No, wait, that’s worse, I’m not a quiet person, this is not sustainable—”
“You talk a lot when you’re nervous,” you observe.
“I’m not nervous.”
You raise a brow.
He exhales. “Okay, I might be a little nervous.”
“Why?”
Eddie hesitates because the real answer is ridiculous.
Because you’re terrifying in a way he doesn’t understand, in a way he kind of likes. Because you look at him like you can see right through him, and instead of running, he wants to step closer.
“Reputation,” he settles on, weaker than he’d like.
“People say a lot of things,” you reply, turning back to the experiment. “Most of them are boring.”
“Yeah?” he says, watching you carefully. “What do you say?”
“I say,” you murmur, “that most people decide what they’re afraid of before they ever actually look at it.”
Eddie swallows.
“Lucky for you,” you add, almost as an afterthought, “you don’t seem very afraid.”
He lets out a quiet laugh. “That’s because I’ve been watching you for like a month.”
Shit.
He freezes. “I, uh, okay, that sounded—wow, that sounded so much worse out loud—”
You don’t interrupt. You just watch him spiral.
“You have,” you say. Not a question.
Eddie blinks. “You… knew?”
You shrug slightly. “You’re not subtle.”
“And?” he asks, cautiously.
“And,” you echo, eyes dropping briefly to his hands before meeting his gaze again, “I didn’t stop you.”
Something electric snaps into place. Eddie leans in without realizing it, elbows on the lab table, grin creeping back despite himself.
“Yeah?” he says, voice low now. “Why’s that?”
You don’t answer right away. Instead, you reach for his wrist. Your rings press cool against his skin as you turn his hand over, examining it like it’s part of the experiment.
Eddie forgets every coherent thought he’s ever had.
“Because,” you say softly, tracing the curve of his palm with your thumb, “you look at me like you’re trying to figure me out.”
Your gaze flicks up to his. “And most people don’t bother trying.”
Eddie exhales slowly.
“Maybe I like puzzles,” he murmurs.
Your lips twitch.
“Careful,” you say, finally letting go. “You might not like what you find.”
He leans back, heart still racing, but something steadier settling underneath it now.
“Yeah,” he says, voice rough but sure. “I think I will.”
By the time the bell rings, neither of you has finished the lab, and neither of you seems to care.
As everyone files out, you take your time packing up, slipping your notebook into your bag. Eddie lingers, suddenly unwilling to let the moment end.
“So,” he starts, trying to sound casual and failing spectacularly, “same time next class, partner?”
You glance at him over your shoulder. “Maybe,” you say.
Then, just before you turn away, “If you’re lucky.”
Eddie watches you leave, a little dazed, a little thrilled, and entirely screwed.
Lunch is loud in the way only a cafeteria can be. Trays clatter, chairs scrape, conversations overlap into a steady, shapeless hum that fills every inch of the room. It’s the kind of noise most people get swallowed by.
You don’t.
You sit at the far end of one of the tables near the windows, your friends scattered around you in loose, shifting positions, half-paying attention to whatever story is being told. You’re there, but not fully.
One leg crossed over the other, elbow resting against the table, fingers idly tracing the rim of your drink like you’re following a thought only you can hear.
Every so often, you hum under your breath, barely audible, like a song that hasn’t decided to exist yet.
People notice you, they just don’t approach.
Across the room, Hellfire has claimed their usual table. Loud, chaotic, a mess of half-finished lunches and overlapping voices.
Eddie sits at the center of it, where he always does, all restless energy and sharp edges, talking with his hands as he launches into some dramatic retelling of last night’s campaign.
But he’s not really there. Because every few seconds, his gaze drifts. It pulls, like gravity, back to you.
At first, it’s subtle. A flicker between sentences. A glance when someone else starts talking. But it builds, becomes harder to hide, until he’s fully turning his head, attention slipping clean out of whatever Gareth is saying about a botched spell roll.
And then you look up. It’s not immediate or reactive. It’s like you feel it before you see it, your gaze lifting slowly, deliberately, until it lands on him across the crowded room. There’s no surprise in your expression, just recognition.
Eddie freezes mid-sentence.
For a second, everything else drops away. The noise, the movement, the people. It’s just that look, steady and knowing, holding his in place like a hand at the back of his neck.
Then, you tilt your head slightly. Barely anything, but it’s enough. Enough that Eddie’s mouth goes dry.
“—and then the demogorgon just, like, absolutely wrecked—” Dustin stops mid-rant, frowning. “Dude. Eddie.” No response.
“Eddie.”
Gareth leans over, following the direction of Eddie’s stare, and immediately groans under his breath. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
That does it. Eddie snaps back, blinking hard, like he’s been caught coming up for air.
“What?” he says, a little too quickly.
Gareth doesn’t even bother being subtle. He jerks his chin across the cafeteria. “You’re staring.”
“I am not staring,” Eddie shoots back automatically, grabbing his soda like that proves something.
“You are absolutely staring,” Mike chimes in, twisting around in his seat to look. “At—oh. Oh, dude.”
Dustin’s eyes widen. “No way.”
Eddie follows their line of sight, sees exactly where they’ve landed, and immediately tries to play it off, leaning back in his chair with exaggerated ease.
“Okay, first of all,” he says, pointing at them like he’s about to make a solid legal argument, “I can look wherever I want. It’s a free country.”
“Yeah,” Gareth mutters, “and you chose her.”
“Dude, you know she’s like… resident bitch number one, right?”
“She’s not—” he starts, then stops himself. Because how the hell would he even know that?
He drags a hand through his hair instead, shrugging like it’s nothing. “People say a lot of things.”
“Yeah, and in this case, they’re right,” Mike says, a little too confidently for someone who has definitely never spoken to you. “My cousin had a class with her. Said she, like, made a kid cry just by looking at him.”
Dustin snorts. “That’s kind of impressive.”
Eddie huffs a quiet laugh despite himself, shaking his head. “Or maybe the kid was just weak.”
Gareth squints at him. “Why do you sound defensive?”
“I don’t sound defensive,” Eddie says, immediately defensive.
“You do,” Dustin and Mike say at the same time.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, and then he looks again. He can’t help it. Across the cafeteria, you’re already watching him, like you knew he would.
This time, you don’t look away. You just hold his gaze, slow and steady, like you’re waiting to see what he’ll do with it.
Eddie exhales, something low and amused curling in his chest despite the attention on him. He leans back further in his chair, dragging his thumb along the edge of his cup, and—very deliberately—keeps looking.
Eddie doesn’t. Instead, he lifts his brows slightly, almost like a challenge.
Across the room, your lips twitch. Not a full smile, not even close. But it’s there. And then, just to make it worse, you drag your gaze down him. Slow and unhurried, like you’re taking inventory.
Eddie’s brain short-circuits.
“OH MY GOD, SHE SAW YOU,” Mike hisses, ducking like that’s going to save him from the situation somehow.
“No shit she saw me,” Eddie murmurs, voice lower now, something steadier settling in.
Gareth is staring at him like he’s lost his mind. “You’re enjoying this.”
Eddie doesn’t answer right away. Because across the room, you finally look away, but not before tapping your fingers twice against the table, a small, deliberate rhythm. The same one from chemistry.
Eddie’s lips curl, slow and certain.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, eyes still on you even as you turn back to your friends. “Yeah, I think I am.”
“Dude,” Dustin says, equal parts horrified and impressed, “you’re gonna get cursed.”
Eddie huffs a laugh under his breath, shaking his head. “Worth it.”
The last note lingers longer than it should.
It hangs in the air, vibrating through the low ceiling of The Hideout, through the sticky floors and half-empty glasses, through the crowd that’s already half turned toward the bar before the sound even fully dies.
Corroded Coffin finishes the set rough and loud, the way they always do, Eddie’s fingers still buzzing from the strings as he pulls back from the mic, breath uneven, curls damp at his temples.
There’s a smattering of applause, some whistles, and a few half-interested cheers.
Eddie barely registers any of it. The second he steps off that stage and heads toward the bar, he sees you.
And everything else just stops.
You’re leaning against the counter, like you belong there more than anyone else in the room. Like the dim lights were built for you.
The black long-sleeve clings to you clean and sharp, the corset pulling everything into a silhouette that feels almost unfair, structured and deliberate, like armor.
The skirt sits just right, layered and soft against the harder lines, fishnets catching the low light in fractured patterns every time you shift your weight.
And the boots; heavy, grounded, unapologetic, plant you firmly in place like you’re not going anywhere unless you decide to.
Your wrist moves as you lift your drink, rings glinting, dark and intentional, every detail curated without looking like you tried.
Eddie forgets how to walk. Like, genuinely forgets. He slows mid-step, eyes locked, brain completely short-circuiting in real time.
“Dude,” Jeff mutters behind him, nearly walking straight into his back. “Why did you just—oh.”
Gareth follows his gaze. “…oh, shit.”
Eddie doesn’t answer. Because you choose that exact moment to glance over, and catch him.
There’s no confusion in your expression. Just that same slow recognition from earlier, like you’ve been aware of him the entire time.
Your lips tilt slightly around the rim of your glass. Eddie’s heart slams against his ribs.
“Okay,” Gareth says under his breath, grabbing Eddie’s shoulder like he’s trying to physically ground him. “We can still turn around. We can still not do this.”
Eddie exhales once, sharp, dragging a hand down his face before straightening slightly.
“Shut up,” he murmurs.
Then he walks over.
Each step feels louder than it should. He’s aware of everything in a way that’s almost irritating: the press of the room, the hum of conversation, the fact that Jeff and Gareth are absolutely trailing behind him like backup he did not ask for.
You don’t move, you just watch him approach. When he finally stops in front of you, there’s a beat. A quiet stretch of space where neither of you speaks, the tension sitting thick and steady between you.
Up close, it’s worse. Or better, he hasn’t decided just yet.
“Hey,” Eddie says finally, voice rougher than he intended.
You tilt your head slightly. “Hi, Eddie.”
There’s something in the way you say his name, like you’ve been waiting to use it.
Eddie lets out a soft breath, half a laugh. “You came.”
Your gaze flicks briefly toward the stage, then back to him. “You played.”
That shouldn’t sound as loaded as it does. Behind him, Jeff shifts. Gareth makes a quiet noise that sounds suspiciously like panic.
You notice, naturally.
Your eyes slide past Eddie, landing on them both, taking in the way they hover just slightly behind him, unsure, wary, like they’ve accidentally walked into something they don’t understand.
Your expression doesn’t change, but something in it sharpens.
“…you brought friends,” you say lightly.
Eddie glances back over his shoulder. “Oh—uh, yeah, these are—”
“Gareth,” Gareth blurts, immediately, like introducing himself might save him.
“Jeff,” Jeff adds, nodding once.
You look at them for a moment longer than necessary. Then, you lean in just a fraction.
And softly, “Boo.”
Gareth physically flinches. Jeff nearly chokes on nothing.
Eddie stares at you for half a second, then lets out a surprised laugh, head dropping as he drags a hand through his hair.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, grinning despite himself.
You sit back again, completely unbothered, lifting your drink like nothing just happened.
“They scare easily,” you remark.
“I can see that,” Eddie says, still laughing under his breath. “Don’t worry, they’ll recover. Eventually.”
“Debatable,” Gareth mutters.
You ignore him. Your attention settles back on Eddie.
“You’re better than I expected,” you say.
Eddie raises a brow. “Oh yeah? That a compliment?”
“It depends,” you reply. “Do you want it to be?”
He huffs a quiet laugh, stepping a little closer without fully realizing he’s doing it. “I’ll take what I can get.”
Your gaze drops briefly, dragging down his chest, his hands, the remnants of the performance still clinging to him, then back up.
“You don’t seem like the type who settles,” you murmur.
Eddie’s grin softens, just slightly.
“Funny,” he says, voice lower now, “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
The noise of the bar fades again, not completely, but enough that it feels like the two of you are standing just outside of it.
You shift your weight, one boot sliding slightly against the floor, close enough now that he can catch the faint scent of whatever you’re wearing, something dark and subtle and impossible to ignore.
“Chemistry went unfinished,” you say, almost casually.
Eddie’s breath hitches.
“Yeah,” he replies. “Tragic, really.”
“Maybe we should fix that.”
His eyes flicker. “Yeah?” he says, quieter now.
Your lips curve, just a little sharper this time.
“Unless,” you add, glancing briefly past him again, “your friends are too scared to let you.”
Eddie doesn’t even look back this time. “Trust me,” he says, holding your gaze steady, “they’re not stopping anything.”
Behind him, Gareth makes a small, distressed noise.
You smile. Not nice, not soft, but just enough. And Eddie? Eddie is absolutely, completely done for.
The corner of your mouth lifts just slightly, like you’ve already decided something he hasn’t caught up to yet.
“Good. Swing around my place tomorrow afternoon, then, partner.” You say, placing your drink down on the counter. It lands with a soft, deliberate clink.
Eddie blinks; once, twice.
“Your place?” he echoes, like the words need a second to fully process.
You nod, already reaching for your jacket, as if this conversation is simply concluded. “We never finished the lab.”
“That feels like a very loose interpretation of academic responsibility,” he says, but there’s no real argument in it, just a crooked smile starting to pull at his mouth.
“Maybe,” you reply, shrugging one shoulder as you slip your arm through the sleeve. “Or maybe I don’t like unfinished things.”
Eddie exhales through his nose, something almost like a laugh caught in his chest.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I’m starting to get that.”
There’s a second where neither of you moves, where it feels like something else could be said, something that tips this from flirting into something neither of you can easily step back from.
You don’t let it. Instead, you turn slightly, brushing past him just close enough that your shoulder grazes his arm, the contact brief but very, very deliberate.
“Don’t be late, Munson,” you add, voice softer now, meant just for him.
Then you’re gone, just like that.
Eddie stands there for a second longer than necessary, staring at the space you just left behind, like he’s trying to replay it in real time.
Behind him: “…you’re going to her place?” Gareth says, somewhere between disbelief and concern.
Jeff lets out a low whistle. “Man.”
Eddie drags a hand over his face, then drops it, a slow grin spreading whether he tries to stop it or not.
“Yeah,” he says, almost to himself.
Gareth groans. “You’re not coming back alive.”
Eddie huffs a quiet laugh, already turning toward the door, like staying here any longer suddenly feels pointless.
“Worth it,” he tosses over his shoulder.
The next afternoon settles over the trailer park in that quiet, sun-warmed way that makes everything feel slower than it actually is.
The gravel crunches under Eddie’s boots as he cuts across the lot, past familiar doors, familiar windows, familiar lives he’s never really questioned.
Until now. Because he’s heading somewhere he’s never been before.
He knew you lived here. Hawkins is small, and rumors travel faster than anything else. He’d heard it in passing, half-formed conversations, someone mentioning “the girl on the other side of Forest Hills,” always said with that same tone people use when they don’t quite understand something.
But knowing it and seeing it are two very different things.
Eddie slows a little as he reaches the end of the park. It’s quieter over here. Less traffic, fewer people lingering outside. The air feels still, like even the place itself knows better than to be loud around you.
He finds your trailer easily. Something about it just fits.
Not in an obvious way. There’s nothing over the top, nothing screaming for attention. But it feels intentional.
A few small details that don’t match the rest of the park, a sense of quiet control, like everything is exactly where it’s supposed to be.
He notices the absence before anything else. No extra car, no voices, no movement behind the curtains. You’re home alone.
Eddie exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck before knocking twice against the door.
There’s a pause, and then the handle turns. And, Jesus, you look different. Not less, never less.
Just softer, in a way that somehow makes everything else worse. Better. Dangerous in a quieter way.
The structured edge from last night is gone, traded for something more relaxed, more effortless, like you’ve peeled back a layer but kept the core exactly the same. Your clothes sit easier on you now, less armor, more you.
And somehow, still breathtaking. Eddie forgets whatever he was going to say.
“Hi,” you say, like you haven’t just short-circuited his entire brain.
“Hey,” he manages, a second too late.
Your gaze flicks over him once, quick but thorough, before you step back and gesture him inside. “You made it on time.”
“Yeah, well,” he says, clearing his throat as he steps past you, acutely aware of the space between your bodies, “I was told not to be late. Felt threatening.”
The corner of your mouth lifts as you shut the door behind him. “Good.”
The inside of your place is exactly what he expected, and also not at all.
There’s that same sense of intention where nothing feels accidental. Books stacked in uneven but purposeful piles, little objects scattered that look like they have stories attached to them, things he can’t quite place but feels like he should.
It’s quieter in here; the outside world muffled just enough that it feels separate, private.
Eddie turns slowly, taking it in.
“You’ve never been over here before,” you note, moving past him like you already know the answer.
“No,” he admits, watching you. “Guess I never had a reason.”
You hum softly, pulling your notebook from the table and flipping it open. “And now you do.”
“Yeah,” he says, a little quieter.
You glance up at him briefly, something unreadable flickering in your expression, before tapping the open page. “Come on, partner. We have very important academic work to finish.”
Eddie snorts, dragging a chair over and dropping into it across from you. “Right. Science.”
“Try to keep up.”
For about five minutes, it almost works.
You walk him through the steps, your voice focused, explaining something about reactions and measurements that Eddie is absolutely pretending to follow.
He leans in, watching your hands more than anything else, the way you write, the way you underline certain things like they matter more.
He tries, he really does.
But then: “You’re not listening,” you say, without looking up.
Eddie leans back, caught, but not even a little ashamed. “I am listening.”
“Mm,” you hum, finally glancing up. “Then repeat what I just said.”
He opens his mouth, closes it. “…something about chemicals?”
Your lips twitch. “Very impressive.”
“Hey, I never claimed to be a science guy,” he defends, leaning forward again, elbows on the table. “I’m more of a… vibes-based learner.”
You raise a brow. “That’s not a thing.”
“It is now.”
“You were staring at me last night,” you say, like you’re picking up a conversation that never really ended.
Eddie exhales, a quiet laugh slipping out. “Yeah, well. You made it kinda hard not to.”
Your gaze drifts over him slowly, mirroring what you did at the bar, unhurried, deliberate.
“And now?” you ask.
He doesn’t look away. “Still hard,” he says.
Another pause, the kind that stretches. The kind that says this isn’t about chemistry anymore. Your fingers tap once against the table, that same rhythm, softer this time.
“Careful, Munson,” you murmur.
He tilts his head slightly, a grin tugging at his mouth. “You keep saying that.”
“Maybe you should start listening.”
“Or,” he counters, leaning just a little closer, “maybe I like not knowing what happens.”
Your eyes flicker. Something sharper, more interested.
“Yeah?” you say.
“Yeah.”
The space between you isn’t very big now. It would be easy, too easy. The air shifts first.
It’s subtle, but unmistakable. Whatever thin line had been keeping this in the realm of just flirting dissolves the second you lean back in your chair, eyes dragging over him with a little less restraint than before.
Eddie feels it immediately.
“Y’know,” you say, voice softer now, edged, “for someone who talks so much, you get real quiet when you’re being watched.”
He huffs a breath, trying to keep his composure, but his fingers twitch against the table. “Depends who’s doing the watching.”
Your head tilts. “And what if it’s me?”
Eddie swallows. “Then I’m probably in trouble.”
That earns you a real smile this time. Not big, not warm, but sharper, more amused. Like you like that answer.
“Good,” you murmur.
You don’t rush it, that’s the thing about you. Everything you do feels intentional, like you’re deciding each movement before it happens.
You stand slowly, the chair scraping faintly against the floor, and Eddie’s eyes follow you without thinking. He doesn’t even try to pretend he’s focused on anything else now.
You circle the table. Not fast or hesitant, just sure.
Eddie leans back slightly in his chair, like he’s giving you space, but really he’s just bracing, watching you approach with that same steady focus he’s been trying to maintain since yesterday.
“You said you like puzzles,” you remind him quietly.
“I did,” he replies, voice a little rough.
You stop right in front of him. Close. Close enough that he has to tilt his head back just slightly to keep your gaze.
“And you still do?” you ask.
There’s something in your tone. Not challenging. Not quite teasing. Testing.
Eddie’s mouth curves despite the tension coiling low in his chest. “Yeah,” he says. “I do.”
“Good.”
And before he can overthink it, you move. It’s smooth, deliberate, like you’ve already decided the outcome.
Your hands find his shoulders as you step in, and then you’re there, settling into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Eddie’s brain completely shuts off.
“Holy—” he breathes, hands hovering for half a second like he’s not sure where they’re allowed to go.
“Relax,” you murmur, leaning in just enough that your voice brushes against him. “I told you. I don’t bite.”
A pause. Then, quieter, “Unless you give me a reason to.”
His hands finally land, tentative at first, then a little more certain at your waist, grounding himself in something real because everything else feels like it’s slipping.
“You’re, uh,” he starts, then huffs a quiet laugh at himself. “You’re not exactly helping the whole ‘not nervous’ thing.”
Your lips curve again, closer now, your gaze flicking between his eyes and his mouth like you’re deciding something. “Good,” you say.
And then you close the distance. The kiss isn’t rushed. It’s slow and intentional, like everything else you do.
You give him just enough to react before you deepen it, one hand sliding from his shoulder to the back of his neck, fingers curling lightly in his hair.
Eddie exhales into it, something soft and surprised slipping through as he finally gives in, leaning into you, hands tightening slightly at your waist.
It’s not messy, not frantic. The kind of kiss that feels like it’s building something rather than burning it out all at once.
When you pull back, it’s only by a fraction. Close enough that your breath still mixes with his.
Eddie blinks up at you, a little dazed, a little wrecked, a grin already threatening to break through.
“…so,” he murmurs, voice low, “we definitely didn’t finish the lab.”
Your thumb traces lightly along his jaw, almost absentminded. “No,” you agree. “Do you want to?”
He keeps your gaze, immediately and frantically shaking his head ‘no’.
You don’t answer with words.
Instead, you roll your hips once, slow and deliberate, grinding down against the obvious bulge already straining in his jeans.
Eddie’s breath catches hard in his throat, his fingers flexing against your waist like he’s fighting the urge to pull you closer and the even stronger urge to let you do whatever the hell you want.
“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes wide and dark, pupils blown. “You’re really… shit, you’re on me.”
You smile, small and sharp, and lean in until your lips brush the shell of his ear. “I am. And you’re going to stay right here, Munson. Hands on my hips unless I move them. Understand?”
He nods so fast it’s almost embarrassing. “Yeah. Yeah, I—Jesus Christ, whatever you want.”
You reward him with another slow roll of your hips, dragging your core along the thick line of his cock through too many layers of fabric.
Eddie groans, head tipping back against the chair, curls spilling over the back of it like a dark halo. His throat bobs when he swallows, and you can’t resist leaning down to drag your teeth lightly along that exposed skin.
“You’ve been watching me for weeks,” you murmur against his pulse point, sucking just hard enough to leave a faint mark. “Staring in the cafeteria. At the bar. Like you couldn’t look away even if you tried.”
“I couldn’t,” he rasps, voice wrecked already.
You sit back just enough to look at him. His cheeks are flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy with pure want. Obsession looks good on him.
You slide one hand into his hair, gripping a fistful of curls and tugging his head back further so he has to look up at you.
“Good,” you say softly.
Eddie’s hips jerk up involuntarily at the praise, a broken little sound escaping him. You press down harder, pinning him in place.
“Stay still. This is my project now.”
You reach between you and pop the button on his jeans, dragging the zipper down with deliberate slowness.
When you palm him through his boxers, he’s so hard it has to hurt, the fabric already damp at the tip. You squeeze once, firm, and watch his mouth fall open on a silent moan.
“Look at you,” you coo, stroking him lazily. “So worked up just from sitting here. Have you been hard for me since chemistry class, Eddie? Since the bar? Since you knocked on my door?”
“Since the first time I saw you,” he admits, voice cracking. “I might have jerked off thinking about this more times than I want to admit.”
The honesty makes the heat pool low in your belly. You slip your hand inside his boxers and wrap your fingers around his cock, skin hot and velvet-soft over steel.
He’s thick, throbbing in your grip, and when you give him one long, slow stroke from base to leaking tip, his whole body shudders.
“Fuck—your hand,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut for a second before he forces them open again, desperate not to miss a moment of you. “Feels so much better than I imagined. Please don’t stop. Please.”
You stroke him again, twisting your wrist at the head the way you already know will drive him crazy. His hips twitch, but he catches himself and stills, obeying. The effort makes his arms tremble where his hands grip your thighs.
You lean in and kiss him again, deep and filthy this time, tongue sliding against his while you keep working his cock in steady, relentless strokes. When you pull back, a thin string of spit connects your mouths for a second.
“Take my shirt off,” you tell him.
His hands fly up immediately, tugging your shirt over your head. The second your breasts are bare, he stares like he’s been given something sacred.
You guide one of his hands to your chest, and he cups you reverently, thumb brushing your nipple until it tightens.
“So fucking perfect,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You’re gonna ruin me. Use me. Whatever you want, it’s yours, I don’t fucking care.”
You push his jeans and boxers down just enough to free him completely, then stand long enough to slide your own shorts and panties down your legs. Eddie watches with open hunger, chest heaving.
When you settle back onto his lap, this time with nothing between you, the slick heat of your cunt slides along his length. He chokes on a moan.
“Condom?” you ask, even though you already know the answer from the way he’s looking at you.
“Fuck, I have one in my wallet,” he stammers, “but I swear I’m clean, I haven’t…”
You reach down, line him up, and sink down onto his cock in one smooth, relentless motion.
Eddie’s head slams back against the chair again, a guttural groan tearing out of him as your tight, wet heat swallows every inch. “Oh my god—oh fuck, you feel—holy shit—”
You don’t give him time to adjust. You start moving immediately, riding him hard and steady, hands braced on his shoulders for leverage. Every downward thrust takes him deep, grinding your clit against his pelvis on every pass.
“Look at me,” you command.
His eyes snap to yours, wide and worshipful, mouth slack with pleasure. One of his hands stays on your hip, the other slides up your back like he needs to touch as much of you as possible.
“You’re obsessed with me,” you say, voice low and steady even as pleasure coils tighter inside you. “Say it.”
“I’m obsessed,” he pants, meeting every roll of your hips like he was made for this. “Completely fucking obsessed.”
You clench around him at his words, and he whimpers, the sound so needy it sends a fresh rush of heat through you.
Faster now. The kitchen table creaks faintly beneath you. The chemistry notes are long-forgotten, scattered beneath your discarded shirt. You ride him as if you own him, because right now, you do.
Eddie’s close already, you can feel it in the way he throbs inside you, the desperate little thrusts he can’t quite hold back.
“Don’t come yet,” you tell him, slowing just enough to torture him. “Not until I do.”
He nods frantically, biting his lip hard enough to leave marks. “Yes—fuck, yes. Come on my cock, baby, I need to feel it.”
You reach between you and rub tight circles over your clit while you keep riding him, chasing your own peak. When it hits, it crashes through you hard, walls fluttering and clenching around him as you moan low and long, hips stuttering.
Eddie watches you fall apart with something close to awe, lips parted, eyes glassy. The second you start to come down, you lean in, bite his bottom lip, and whisper against his mouth:
“Come for me, Eddie.”
He breaks with a shattered groan, burying himself deep as he pulses hot and endless inside you. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you down on him like he never wants to let go, face pressed into your neck as he rides out the aftershocks.
For a long moment, the only sounds are your breathing and the faint creak of the chair.
Then Eddie pulls back just enough to look at you, flushed, dazed, and still so fucking gone for you.
“We're never finishing that chemistry project,” he says hoarsely.
You smile, slow and satisfied, rolling your hips once more just to hear him gasp.
Eddie’s head tips back again, a weak, wrecked laugh leaving him, like he doesn’t even have the strength to pretend he’s okay anymore.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, dragging a hand down his face before it settles back on your waist, grounding himself in you. “You’re—fuck—you’re gonna kill me.”
You tilt your head, studying him like you’re deciding if that’s a real concern. “Maybe,” you murmur.
But there’s no bite to it now, not really.
The sunlight has shifted just enough to creep further across the table, catching the mess you made of your “work,” the open notebook, the pen rolling lazily toward the edge.
Neither of you moves to fix it. Eddie’s hands stay where they are, warm and firm at your waist. His chest is still rising a little too fast, eyes softer now, but no less locked on you.
“You’re trouble,” he says, quieter this time.
You hum, considering that, your fingers tracing absent shapes along his shoulder.
“I told you that already.”
“Yeah,” he exhales, a small smile pulling at his mouth despite everything. “I just didn’t listen.”
“Are you going to now?”
Eddie looks at you like he’s standing on the edge of something, something he knows he shouldn’t step into, and stepping anyway.
“No,” he says.
Something flickers in your expression at that. Not surprised, not quite approval. Something more dangerous than both.
“Good,” you reply softly.
Eddie lets out a quiet breath, shaking his head once like he’s trying to come back to himself and failing.
“So,” he murmurs, glancing briefly at the abandoned lab sheet before looking back at you, “this was… educational.”
Your lips curve again. “Very.”
He laughs under his breath, then leans in just slightly, like he’s testing the space between you again. “Same time tomorrow?” he asks.
“We’ll see,” you say, voice low, deliberate. And then, softer, “If you’re lucky.”
Eddie huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head, already gone for you in a way he probably won’t recover from. And the thing is, you know, he definitely won't.
we are never getting back together - series masterlist
masterlist tag list eddie masterlist
older!eddie munson x ex wife!reader
summary:
eddie munson is a lot of things. mechanic, musician, loving father to his 11, 9, and 6 year old girls, your ex husband, and huge pain in your ass. even with a serious girlfriend of his own, eddie has never been able to stand the idea of you moving on. the news of you dating former classmate steve harrington is a personal nightmare he never expected.
warnings:
smut (18+), lots of smut really, drinking, drug use, older!eddie, dad!eddie, mom!reader, ex husband!eddie, ex wife!reader, idiots in love who refuse to believe they’re in love, cheating (not on reader), pregnancy, check individual chapter warnings
Genuinely need people to make more Johnny Storm x Alien reader fics. Like imagine a reader who crashed her ship on earth and Johnny is just like, “Potential alien girlfriend, round two.”
Guys please, I beg of you. 🙏
Potential alien gf round two 😭😭 no because he totally would!
i’m not really good at writing, but i NEED someone to write an eddie munson x older! reader one shot.
like reader is gareth’s older sister (like 17/18) and eddie is in sophomore year (like 15?) and when gareth starts high school and they become friends, eddie loves spending time at gareth’s house because he gets to see his older sister, who is a super cool metalhead.
so eddie and gareth knock at the door, she opens and they have lunch together. he’s a bit awkward but maybe also a bit flirty(?) and she gives off rodrick heffley vibes. she is also dating a douchebag maybe still a metalhead but older.
then maybe that night she is out with her friends and boyfriend and she notices that a group of jocks is beating eddie’s ass so she steps in, takes him home, clean his wounds and maybe she kisses his cheek because she knew he had a crush on her. and he’ll always remember the fact that it was his first “kiss”.
after the end of that year, he doesn’t see her anymore because she finished high school etc. 5 years passes and now it’s 1986.
reader got her dream job (i was thinking maybe tattoo artist) and she doesn’t spend time in hawkins anymore.
one night she had a date in hawkins, she gets stood up so she decides to stop at a pub before going home (maybe because her roommate had her boyfriend over) and she finds herself outside the hideout, without knowing that eddie works there as a waiter.
she walks in and at first she doesn’t even recognizes him, but then they catch up, she notices how much he’s grown up and changed, how much he became exactly the kind of guy she uses to date etc. she waits for him to get off work and then they go somewhere together, maybe smoking a joint.
he tries flirting like he did when he was 15 but now she flirt back and they end up fucking in his van/trailer idk.
this is what i imagined, if you write something like this or know a fic similar to this, please tag me🙏🙏🙏
also, the beginning is inspired by a bot i found in c.ai, but i can’t find it anymore😭
Pairing: Baby Daddy!Eddie Munson x Pregnant!Reader
Summary: After a heated one-time hookup, you find yourself pregnant by none other than your best friend Eddie Munson.
Content Warning: 18+ Smut, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Digital Penetration (Fingering), Oral (F receiving), Oral (M receiving), Sexual Acts, Slight-Voyeurism/Public-Sex, Sexual/Suggestive Language, Foul Language/Swearing, Mentions of Abortion, Attempted Abortion, Pregnancy (obviously), Quasi-Cheating (Sort of?), Messy Love Triangle (I guess?), Slight ED (Eddie can’t get it up), Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Co-Parenting, Mentions of Toxic Relationships (On Again, Off Again), Slight Betrayal (Eddie Being an Idiot), Slight Angst, Slight Slut-Shaming (Not Reader), Vomiting, Violence, Slight Gore.
A/N: Content warning tags are for the series storyline as a whole and may not show up in every chapter. Just want to cover all my bases.
Wanna join my taglist? Click ——> HERE
Find My ST Masterlist ——> HERE
6 Weeks
Eddie fucking Munson and that dreaded fucking ponytail.
You told yourself over and over again that this couldn't be happening. That it wasn't happening. But, oh, was it happening. The two bold pink lines on the end of the pregnancy test confirmed it. Pregnant. With Eddie Munson's little fucking demon seed. How could you let this happen? Oh, right. You knew exactly how this happened. You remembered every little detail of it. All of it.
You remembered how you cried out in pleasure against his lips as you climaxed. You remembered the way you yanked on that godforsaken fucking ponytail, using it as a rein as he went down on you. You remembered the sweet little grunts he made as he pounded you relentlessly into your mattress- talking you through your orgasm like it was the biggest achievement of his fucking life. How he had gasped loudly as he spilled deep inside of you. Well, you thought, now you have a souvenir.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
No, you thought, shaking your head. It was all a sick fucking joke. You could not be pregnant with your best friend's baby. You absolutely did not have rebound sex with him after Chrissy Cunningham dumped him cold on Valentine's Day. Just for her to take him back not even three days later. But that was all just wishful thinking. Because it was true. All of it.
Okay, it was definitely far too late for Plan B. The baby was already conceived. There was no changing that. Dear god, why didn't you use a condom? Eddie's words immediately come back to you, echoing in your head from that night.
"Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good..."
It was enough for you to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in to sink further into you- his body shivering at the action.
"Fuck! Never felt something so tight. Christ, don't make me pull out. Please."
And, like the idiot you were, you ate it up. Listening to his needy whines and moans as you reveled in his dirty little praises.
"So fucking tight, baby. So fucking wet for me. Tell me you're wet for me."
"Yes, Eddie! S-so wet for you. Only you. Want you to fuck me harder!"
“Yeah? Is that how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and rough? Huh? Say it for me…”
You thought back on how he had shown up on Valentines night with a bouquet of wilted red roses in his hand. His hair pulled back in that ponytail that made you weak in the knees. He was in a crisp black button down shirt. One that was ironed. His nicest pair of black jeans. He was wearing cologne for god’s sake. You had a harmless little crush on Eddie since the 7th grade but seeing the way he looked on your doorstep caused it to turn into a full-blown frenzy.
Before you could ask him what he was doing there and not at Enzo’s sitting across from his girlfriend Chrissy Cunningham at a romantic dinner for two, he was already storming past you and into your apartment- slumping down onto your couch.
“Well, that was a fucking disaster.” He announces, tossing the bouquet onto the coffee table.
“What happened?” You ask, watching the scowl on Eddie’s face as you followed him back into your living room.
“Well,” Eddie sighed, burying his face in his hands “She dumped me. Again.”
“What?” You ask “Why?”
“I don’t even know anymore. Something about me never taking her seriously. Never being serious. She’s been this way ever since The Hideout thing last week.”
Right, you remembered. The girl at The Hideout who was all over Eddie- who was too drunk to push her away. It had been a whole scene. Chrissy saw the way that the girl relentlessly flirted with Eddie while he did nothing to stop it. To be fair, Eddie was so oblivious that he didn’t even know that the girl was flirting with him. Not until Chrissy had decided she had enough and stormed out of the bar.
“How was I supposed to know that girl was trying to fuck me?” Eddie throws up his hands in exasperation “I’m still surprised that Chrissy wants to fuck me and we’ve been dating for over a year now.”
“I mean, that girl was coming onto you pretty hard.” You admit, earning you an incredulous look from Eddie “Don’t give me that look! I’m not saying that I’m on Chrissy’s side. I just don’t know how you missed the hint when that girl did everything but pounce on you.”
“Whatever.” Eddie grumbles “My point is that I always do something wrong even when I don’t do anything at all. I just don’t know what she wants from me.”
“I’m sorry, Eds.” You commiserate, walking over and plopping down on the couch next to him “I’m sure she’ll be over it soon. She usually doesn’t stay angry for long, right?”
“I just….” Eddie groans “I’m starting to wonder if I even want this anymore.”
“Whoa.” You reply, completely taken aback “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I…fuck, I don’t know.” Eddie mutters “Chrissy used to be fun. Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but the last few months have felt like….I just don’t know if I’m happy anymore.”
“Are you saying that you want to break up with her?” Your heart beats fast in your chest at his admission. You liked Chrissy. You really did. But you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief upon hearing that Eddie was growing bored of her. You’d never admit it but you were jealous of Chrissy. You were envious of her for having the boy that you’ve loved since the 7th grade.
“Well, I mean, she kinda already did it for me.” Eddie scoffs “But maybe this time I won’t chase after her. Not when I don’t even know if it’s worth it anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Eds.” You frown, your heart breaking at how defeated he was “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You can distract me.” He suggests “Keep my mind off of her. Getting dumped on Valentine’s Day is kinda fuckin’ embarrassing.”
“Okay.” You nod, biting your lip “Do you…wanna watch a movie? Or something?”
“Sure.” Eddie looks at you, a soft closed-lip smile spreading across his face “Yeah. That sounds nice. I could use some snuggles from my favorite lady.”
The admission leaves your cheeks blazing as you watch Eddie kick off his boots, resting his feet on your coffee table.
“So, uh, what do you wanna watch?” You stammer, trying to look away from him as he unknowingly lounges in front of you like the Sex God that he was. Not that you would know. Well, not from experience. However, you have heard several rumors throughout the years.
“Lady’s choice.” He replies “Pick whatever you want.”
Eddie watches you as you walk over to your stack of VHS tapes, flipping through them until you found something you wanted to watch. Since it was Valentine’s Day and you were such a hopeless romantic, you had picked Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
Eddie, however, wishes that you hadn’t picked so quickly. Not when he wanted to enjoy the view of you a little longer- kneeling down on the floor in front of your television stand, bending a little to read the titles on the low shelf as those teeny tiny little shorts of yours rode up little-by-little. Exposing the bottom of your ass enough to cause him to stifle his hungry groans.
“Got it!” You announce, waving the VHS tape in the air triumphantly “This okay?” You ask.
Eddie nods, not caring about whatever chick-flick that you planned to pop in the VCR. Not that he’d be paying much attention to it with you curled up next to him dressed like that. Sexy little hotpants that stretched tightly across your ass. Black tank top with no bra on underneath. He hoped that he’d at least be able to control himself enough to not allow a certain guest to make a surprise appearance.
You run to your room and grab a blanket, flipping off the living room lights before joining Eddie on the couch. You sat a good distance away. Maybe five inches on so apart. Not far but not close enough for Eddie to be satisfied- and he noticed immediately.
“What are you doing all the way over there?” He asks, furrowing is eyebrows as you tuck your legs underneath you on the couch.
“C’mere. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.” He jokes.
But that was Eddie. Always joking even though you wished he wasn’t. It was cruel. Not that it was his fault, he didn’t know the way that you felt but his innocent flirting definitely didn’t help the horrible crush you had on him. The fact that he belonged to someone else.
“Ha.” You reply, rolling your eyes at him as your lips curl into a smile “Funny.”
“I’m not joking, sweetheart. Come over here. I’m lonely.” He pleads “So, so lonely. How could you leave me over here all alone and cold?”
You shake your head, rolling your eyes. If there was anything to be said about Eddie, it was that he was definitely dramatic.
You scoot closer, now only two inches apart but that still wasn’t enough. He wanted you closer. Eddie would never admit it, especially when he had only been dumped by his girlfriend an hour earlier, but he would have you in his lap if it were up to him.
With an impatient huff, he throws his left around you, moving it down to your waist so they he could draw you closer. Without warning, he tugs you closer, causing you to tip over- falling into his side as his arm clutched your waist. Your breath almost hitches as his thumb begins to rub against your waist, right above your hip.
“There.” He smirks “Much better.”
You felt like you had a lump in your throat as you swallow nervously, letting your body adjust against his so that you were nestled up against him- your head resting against his chest. You had cuddled with Eddie before- it wasn’t something new. However, this time, something felt different. Unlike all of the other times where you innocently huddled up close to him as you let your body relax- something about this cuddle session held tension. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.
Maybe you were overthinking things. Maybe this was just like every other time but it was you who was making it weird. You worried that Eddie could sense it- your nervousness. As the movie starts, you turn your head to look up at him. His eyes were on the TV, absent-mindedly tracing circles into your skin that his thumb was rubbing against. He seemed unfazed. Just like every other time you’ve shared a friendly cuddle. Maybe it was you.
You let your body relax, choosing to switch off your mind as you melt into him. You even nuzzle the side of your face into his chest as you allow yourself to get more comfortable. Before you know it, your hand is creeping up to his chest- resting your palm there before you absentmindedly stroke the fabric of his shirt with your finger.
“This looks nice on you, by the way.” You whisper, your eyes zoning in on the opening credits as Audrey Hepburn stands in front of a shop window- peering at a display full of diamonds.
“Yeah?” Eddie mutters, turning his head to look down at you as you watch the movie.
“Mhm.” You hum “You smell nice too. New cologne?”
“Yeah.” Eddie answers “Bought it for the occasion. Y’know, before I got dumped.”
“Well,” you reply quietly “Chrissy Cunningham doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
And how could Eddie argue with that? Maybe Chrissy was missing out. But then again, if she hadn’t broken up with him tonight, would he be here right now with you? Snuggled up close on your couch as he indulged himself in the lingering sweet scent of your shampoo. He doubts it. In a way, he’s kind of glad. At least, with you, he didn’t have to sit up straight at a dinner table as he pretended to be civilized- eating over-priced food. Then it hit him. What the hell were you doing all by yourself on Valentine’s Day?
“Sweetheart?” Eddie whispers, turning his head to bury his nose in your hair. Strawberry shampoo. With hints of that vanilla scented body wash that he sometimes used when he showered at your place. Which wasn’t often. Maybe only once or twice. Yet, he couldn’t help but remember how the scent lingered on his skin the rest of the day- catching whiffs of himself that made his eyes flutter shut as if he were smelling you.
“Hm?” You answer, transfixed on the movie even though you’ve seen it a million times.
“You didn’t go out tonight?”
The question pulled your attention.
“Uh-uh.” You answer, Eddie noting how your voice carried a hint of disappointment “No date.”
“Why not?” He further interrogates “What about that guy? The one with the-“
“David?”
“Yeah.” Eddie replies, hoping that you couldn’t sense him scowling “Him. What happened to him?”
“I don’t know.” You sigh “Just didn’t work out, I guess. He asked if we could ‘still be friends’”
“Are you still friends?”
“Fuck no.” You reply, causing Eddie to snort out a laugh.
“Well, his loss.” He declares “Darryl doesn’t know what the fuck he’s missing.”
“David.” You correct, giggling against Eddie’s chest- causing him to smile.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
You both fall silent, focusing again on the movie as the scene of Holly’s party plays out on the screen. You watch the way that Paul Varjak looks at Holly- like she had hung the moon and the stars herself. You couldn’t help but wonder when you would find a man that looked at you like that. A distant dream that felt so far away. You were tired of being the single friend.
Nancy had Jonathan. There was El and Mike. Max and Lucas. Even Dustin had a girlfriend that he met at Camp Know Where. Then there was Robin who was hopelessly in love with Vicki. Steve technically was single but he often kept a string of girls behind him- a new flavor of the week. Lastly there was Eddie and Chrissy. High school sweethearts that seemed to constantly be on the rocks but at least he had someone. You were the odd one out.
You tried not to let it get to you but by the time that the scene of Holly Golightly singing Moon River on the fire escape started to play, you were on the brink of bawling your eyes out. You held in your sobs, trying not to let your body shake as you laid against Eddie. Why the hell did you have to pick a romance? You should’ve just popped in Grease. Or The Karate Kid.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey. Are you crying?” Eddie looks down, feeling the wetness of your tears through his shirt.
“No…” You lie, a sob escaping your lips.
Well, you thought, so much for that.
“What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Eddie questions, his brows pinched with worry as he turns to look at you “Speak to me, sweetheart.”
“I- I’m fine.” You hiccup “I don’t wanna talk about it. It’s embarrassing.”
“What’s embarrassing? I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”
Oh, Eddie. Always wanting to help even though there was nothing that he could do about the way that you were feeling. It was something he just couldn’t fix.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” You sniff “Let’s just finish the movie.”
“Fuck the movie, sweetheart.” Eddie says “Talk to me. Is it something that I did? Did I say something to upset you? Was it….fuck…is it because I brought up Devon?”
“David.” You sob “No, it’s not that. Well, I mean…sort of. I…can we just drop it? I don’t even know why I’m crying. This is so stupid.”
“S’not stupid.” Eddie counters, getting up from the couch so that he could kneel on the floor in front of you, preventing you for turning away and hiding from him. “Please tell me what’s wrong? Maybe I can fix it?”
“No!” You wail “You can’t fix it!”
“I can’t if I don’t know what it is.” Eddie argues, reaching for your hand as takes it in both of his, bringing it to his lips as he presses a kiss to it.
“Tell me what’s wrong?”
If only Eddie knew that he would be spending his Valentine’s Day- supposedly the most “romantic”day of the year- trying to figure out why seemingly every woman in his life was upset with him. What a fucking day.
“I don’t want to be alone.” You cry, launching forward to bury your face into Eddie’s chest- sobbing uncontrollably.
Fuck, Eddie thought.
“What?” He asks, trying to figure out what you were talking about “Sweetheart, you’re not alone. I’m right here.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying!” You whine “I’m tired of being single. I’m tired of dating around. I’m tired of not having someone who loves me.”
“What are you talking about?” Eddie shakes his head, confused. “I love you.”
“Yeah,” you snivel “But not like that. Not the way that Robin loves Vicki. How Nancy and Jonathan love each other. Not the way that you love Chrissy.”
“Oh.” Eddie replies, completely dumbfounded.
“I just don’t get it. Am I unlovable? I go on all these dates and just…nothing. Things just end badly or they just stop talking to me. It’s like…there’s something wrong with me.”
“Hey! Stop that.” Eddie orders, grabbing your face in his hands as he forces you to look at him “You don’t say shit like that. There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. You hear me?”
“But what if-“
Your objection was immediately stolen by Eddie pressing his lips against yours. Crashing into you hard enough to jolt you backwards- leaving you completely stunned. Eddie was kissing you. Your best friend’s lips were on your lips and you swore that your body was going haywire.
It ended as quickly as it happened, leaving you reeling as you stared back at him- unblinking. Eddie stared back at you, wondering why in the hell he had just kissed you. Friends don’t kiss friends. Not even best friends. Especially not when one of them was going through a fresh breakup and the other was emotionally vulnerable. What the fuck was he thinking?
“Shit.” Eddie panics “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“
“It’s okay.” You cut him off, averting eye contact “We’ll just pretend it didn’t happen.”
As soon as you suggested it, Eddie’s heart sank. What if he didn’t want to pretend that it didn’t happen?
“Yeah. Right.” He stammers “You’re right.”
A moment passes where the two of you just stared back at each other, not knowing where to go from there. Yet, the both of you felt an unbearable tension. Something electric between you. You open your mouth to speak, Eddie watching your lips part and it felt like something within him finally snaps. You could sense it.
“Fuck it.” He breaks, his body colliding into yours as he kisses you again- hard and fast. He groans against your mouth, guttural and animalistic. His hands were everywhere. He didn’t know what to do with them so they were everywhere. Grabbing, kneading, stroking, caressing. Every inch of you that he could get ahold of.
He wastes no time deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip as you allow him access- his tongue quickly dominating yours as he makes out with you. Eddie clearly knew how to kiss. You, on the other hand, still felt like you were in shock- your hands placed hesitantly on each of his biceps as he attacked your mouth, grabbing the back of your neck to kiss you even deeper. As if he wasn’t close enough- as if he wanted to be skin-to-skin with you. Without warning, he pulls away, just for a moment.
“Touch me.” He pants.
“W-what?” You stutter, watching him eye you down with a hungry glare.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” He growls “Put your arms around my neck, grab my shirt, pull my fucking hair if you want. Just give me something.” He urges.
He grabs at your wrists, bringing them up to wrap around his neck as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in to devour your lips once again.
You grab onto the hair at the nape of his neck, daring to get a bit rougher with him. The action immediately earns you a low growl. The sound ripped right through you, immediately making you wet as you yanked him closer to you.
“There she is,” He smirks against your lips “Atta girl.”
The praise leaves you breathless, going straight to your heat as you ball up the fabric of his shirt in your hands. He works his lips against your mouth as if he’s in heat. Hungry and desperate for you. He nips at your bottom lip, eliciting sweet moans from you that go straight to his dick. His member stirring beneath the fabric of his jeans. Without hesitation, he grabs one of your hands- taking it in his as he places it over his hardening cock. He smirks as you let out a startled gasp.
“Feel that?” He asks, voice low and gravelly “If there was something wrong with you, do you think I’d be this hard for you right now?”
“Eddie.” You gasp, shocked at the filthy words leaving his lips. Have you heard Eddie say pervy things before? Of course. You had been there through his years of puberty. But never had you thought in your life that you would hear him say such vulgar things to you.
“What, angel?” He coos “Gonna be shy now? Hm? Or are you gonna let me fuck you properly?”
“Eds,” you moan “We can’t. What about-“
“What?” He asks, his eyes dark with lust. His eyes consuming you to the point of you almost losing your train of thought.
“Chrissy.” You drop.
Fuck, Eddie thought.
Chrissy.
You stood in your bathroom, wondering who to call. What to do. You felt helpless as you continued to stare down at those two pink lines. How the hell did you let this happen? With Eddie of all people. Eddie- your best friend. Eddie- who had a girlfriend. A serious girlfriend.
You started to feel sick to your stomach. A different kind of sick than the “stomach bug” that you foolishly thought you had- the illness that turned out to be morning sickness all along.
The very little amount of food that you happened to get down that morning begins to roil in your stomach. You try to breathe deeply through your nose. In….then out….in….then out.
Fuck.
You scramble to the toilet, dropping down beside it as you begin to vomit, spewing out everything in your system. You wretch so hard that your body jolts, leaving you gripping the sides of the toilet as you heave into it.
Fucking Eddie. That stupid fucking bastard and his stupidly hot ponytail. Fuck Valentine’s Day. Fuck the way that he made you feel that night just to throw you aside and pretend it never happened.
“You’re not mad, are you?”
“No, Eds.” You lied “I’m not mad.”
“It’s just…Chrissy and I have been together for so long and I just don’t know if I can throw all that away, y’know?” He wrings his hands “I also don’t want to lose you by making things complicated. I just think that….it’s best we stay friends.”
“Sure. Yeah.”
“Good. I’m glad you understand where I’m coming from.” He breathes a sigh of relief “You also deserve the best, y’know. Which would be, like, the opposite of me and I wouldn’t want to be in the way of you finally finding someone who’s good for you….”
All of that, you thought, was just an excuse for him to get off scot-free after having sex with you and not giving you any sort of commitment in return. What a fucking idiot you were. You were used to guys doing shit like this- using you to get what they want and then promptly tossing you aside. But you never would’ve expected this from Eddie.
Eddie.
The reminder of weekly movie night at Steve’s house caused you to groan. You had already skipped the last two, citing your mystery stomach bug as your excuse for missing out. You knew how it would look if you didn’t show up again three weeks in a row. As much as you didn’t want to see Eddie right now, you knew that you couldn’t dodge him any longer before he started showing up at your door expecting an explanation. So, you decided, you would sit through movie night.
You would pretend that everything was okay. That you were totally and completely normal. That you weren’t pregnant with Eddie’s baby as he was snuggled up next to Chrissy only a few feet away from you. You would pretend that you weren’t internally agonizing over what you were going to do. You would pretend that nothing bothered you. That everything was just how it should be even through life as you knew it was starting to crumble down around you.
It had been about a month and a half since Valentine’s Day. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t hurt. You were extremely hurt. You let Eddie inside of you. You let him hold you close and touch your body and gave him a very intimate piece of yourself that you’d never get back. Now there was a piece of him that he left behind- growing within you.
You pick yourself up off of the bathroom floor, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you flush the toilet. Walking to the sink, you turned on the tap- cupping your hands to gather water as you splash your face. You open your eyes, staring at yourself in the mirror as your reflection stared back. You looked like yourself on the outside but you felt wholly and completely changed on the inside.
You sit down onto the cold tiled floor, leaning your back against the wall as you think of the nearest urgent care facility and how late they were open. You needed to at least have the pregnancy confirmed by a doctor before you made your next decisions. Whatever they would turn out to be.
Eddie knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind, thinking completely with his dick and not with his head. He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this but he couldn’t help himself. He had gotten a taste of the forbidden fruit that was you and he couldn’t pull himself away now. Not even at the thought of his now-ex-girlfriend.
Chrissy
“I don’t wanna think about that right now.” He whispers, sending a shiver down your spine “Just wanna feel you.”
You lunge for him, pressing your body against his. You spread your legs, allowing Eddie to kneel between them as you made out with him- grabbing at your thighs. Your hand snakes up to tug at his ponytail, earning a low chuckle from Eddie.
“Love it when you wear your hair up.” You admit, between heated kisses.
“Yeah?” He teases “Like what you see?”
“God yes…” you moan.
He breaks away from kissing your lips to move along to planting hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck- immediately sending a tidal wave of pleasure throughout your body.
“Fuck, Eds.” You squeal, mind completely going blank as you became jelly beneath his touch “I-I love the way you kiss me.”
“Yeah? You like that, baby?” He replies, his voice hot “I’m gonna do more than just kiss you.”
Before you could even catch your breath, Eddie had scooped you up off of the couch- his large hands grabbing at your ass as he held you. You waste no time wrapping your arms and legs around him as he carries you towards your bedroom.
“Fuck, you’re so hot!” Eddie groans, carrying you through the threshold of your bedroom “So fucking hot. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“I- I want you Eddie. Please.”
“You want me to what? Use your words, angel.”
“Want you to fuck me, Eds. Want you to make me feel good.”
“Yeah?” He purrs “Well, since you asked so damn nicely.”
Eddie drops you onto your bed, your back hitting the soft mattress beneath you as Eddie kneels between your legs, spreading them open for himself.
“God, you’re fucking perfect. Bet your pussy is just as pretty as you are, huh?” His eyes full of sex and sin “Gonna let me find out, sweetheart?”
You sat nervously in the urgent care waiting room, anxiously tapping your pen against the clipboard holding the paperwork you were too distracted to fill out.
You glance around the waiting room, taking in the many colorful posters on the walls that advertised the dangers of tobacco use, proper handwashing technique, and how to stop the spread of germs.
What the fuck were you going to do?
Best case scenario; It was a false positive. Worst case scenario; You would have to make the hard decision of what would be the fate of you and the baby growing inside of you. Did you even want to have a baby? Did you want to have kids at all? Were you prepared to raise another human and become responsible for how they turn out?
Were you going to keep it?
Were you ready to be a single mom?
Were you going to tell Eddie?
“Can I take these off?”
Eddie glanced up at you from between your legs, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your shorts.
Those teeny,
Tiny
Shorts.
“Yes.” You whisper “Please.”
Eddie hums appreciatively at your words.
“Atta girl. Such good manners.”
He begins to pull your shorts down, dragging your panties off with them. Part of you felt self-conscious that you hadn’t worn the sexiest pair of underwear. To be fair, you weren’t expecting this to happen- ever. However, Eddie couldn’t care less- his eyes glued on your core that was slick and glistening with your arousal.
“Fuck, baby.” He groans “All of that for me?”
You nod bashfully as he bites his lip.
“God, I wanna taste you. S’that okay, sweetheart? Can I go down on you?”
“Please, Eds.” You moan “Been waiting for this.”
This peaks his interest, his eyes locking onto yours.
“You have, huh?” He smirks “You’ve thought about this before?”
You felt like you wanted to hide under the covers and disappear. Why the fuck would you say that?
You reach for the pillow next to your head, using it to cover your face that was burning with embarrassment.
“Hey,” Eddie calls, squeezing your thigh affectionately “Don’t hide from me. I think it’s hot. Really fucking hot. Tell me what you think about.” He grabs the pillow from you, tossing it out of your reach as he stares down at you- waiting to hear an answer.
“I, uh…..I think about you. Going down on me.”
“Yeah?” Eddie whispers, his voice dripping with lust “Tell me more.”
“You’re..uh…fuck….you’re using your tongue on me. Licking me…slowly.”
“Is that so?” Eddie smirks.
“Yes.”
Eddie grabs your legs, hitching them both over his shoulders as he lowers his head into your cunt, licking a slow broad stripe upwards until he reaches your clit. It had been so long since you’ve last been touched and your eyes practically roll into the back of your head.
“Like that?” He asks, feigning innocence as if he didn’t have his face in your crotch.
“Y-yeah.” You stutter “That feels so good.”
He begins to dive back into your core, repeating his actions before moving to pay more attention to your clit.
“Keep talking to me, sweet thing.” He mumbles against you “Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”
“F-fuck!” You breathe, back arching off the mattress as he gently nips at your clit- sending shocks of pleasure through your body “Just like that. Keep going. I…I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.”
“Already?” Eddie teases “Baby, I’ve barely even started.”
He removes his right hand from where it was squeezing your thigh, bringing it to your core as he places his thumb roughly onto your clit. Without warning, he begins to rub it in tantalizing little circles that had you moaning like crazy.
“Holy fucking shit!” You squeak, your hand shooting down to wrap around Eddie’s wrist “Eds!”
“Too much? Want me to stop?”
“No!” You yelp “Don’t stop.”
“Whatever you say, sweet girl.” Eddie replies with a grin “Think you can take my fingers?”
“Congratulations.” The doctor says, smiling up at you from your test results “You’re definitely pregnant.”
You felt like the room was spinning. Suddenly, the only thing that you could focus on to avoid passing out was a box of tissues next to the exam table. Pregnant. It was confirmed. You were actually pregnant.
“How are you feeling?” The doctor asks, picking up on your lackluster reaction.
“Oh. I…I think I’m still in shock. A little. I…don’t know how I feel. I’m on the pill. I just…I don’t know how this could’ve happened.
“Well,” the doctor replies “I suppose that’s a pretty fair reaction. It’s pretty big news- a baby on the way. As for the birth control, it’s not a common occurrence but we have seen instances where women can still get pregnant while actively taking birth control. The most common reason is when you may have missed a pill or two. Do you think this could be a possibility?”
You had thought about how you had misplaced your pill pack right around the same time that you had sex with Eddie- needing to call your clinic for an early refill. But you had picked up your prescription only a day or two afterwards. Could you have gotten pregnant within that small 24-48 hour window?
“I did miss a couple. I thought it would be okay if I doubled up the dose the day after to make up for it. I thought…” Your brain felt foggy.
“In most cases this is possible but it depends on the type of birth control pill you’re taking. Sperm can live in the vagina for up to five days. Obviously, the chances of getting pregnant are the highest during the first twenty-four hours after sex. But even with the chances of pregnancy decreasing with each passing day, it is still possible to conceive. In your case, it seems, that you were able to get pregnant during the time period where you had missed those pills.”
“And you’re absolutely sure?” You question “ That I’m pregnant?”
“No doubt about it. Blood tests are over 99% accurate. However, there have been instances of false positives but they’re extremely rare.”
Everything the doctor said to you after that point was only caught in bits and pieces- feeling like you were listening to him speak from underwater. Ninety-nine percent accuracy was practically inarguable. You were having a baby.
“…..A good prenatal vitamin in your daily routine is what would be best for your baby…..”
You were having a baby.
“…..Morning sickness is to be expected during the first trimester. Just make sure you….”
There was a baby growing inside of you.
“…….I’ll give you some referrals for obstetricians. First course of action would be setting up an appointment in order to find out how far along you are…..
You were going to be a parent.
“…..Your due date and first ultrasound….”
You didn’t know if you could handle this. A single mom with no help. Raising a child on your own.
“……And I wish you the best of luck. If there’s anything you need or if you have any questions, the nurses are more than willing to help….”
The next time that you finally return to reality, you are standing outside of the urgent care entrance- a pamphlet in your hand titled “Your Baby and You: What to Expect in your First Pregnancy.” In your pocket was a phone number for a local ob/gyn clinic. In your heart was fear and uncertainty. Where do you go from here?
“Fuck, Eddie! Oh my god!”
You were on the brink of orgasm as he curled his fingers inside of you, his tongue working at your clit as you fisted the sheets below you. He would have been knuckles-deep inside of you if it wasn’t for the thick silver rings adorning his digits. Every time you felt the cool metal rub against your clit, you swore you were going to lose it.
“That feel good, sweetheart?” He asks, his tone teasing.
“So fucking good!” You moan “I’m getting close!”
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, looking up at you with eyes that felt like they could suck you in and devour you whole. All you could do was nod desperately.
“Let’s get you there, princess.” He winks, his head ducking back down as he takes your clit in his mouth, sucking harshly as your body jolted.
“Holy shit! Eds! Oh my god!” You cry out.
Before you could stop yourself, one of your hands flies up to grab at his ponytail- greedily pushing his head further into your cunt. Eddie growls at the action. He ruts against the mattress, trying desperately to gain some friction. He was so painfully hard from all of the pretty sounds that you were making for him. The fact that his face was buried in your pussy that tasted like heaven on earth. The sheer knowledge that he was fucking you- his best friend. It was all so forbidden but so fucking sexy.
Eddie strains against your grip on the back of his head as he comes up for air.
“Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart. You taste so fucking good. So sweet. Best I’ve ever tasted.”
Eddie didn’t even know what he was saying. His mouth began babbling and he couldn’t stop.
“God, I love eating you out. Drenching my fucking face with this pretty little pussy of yours. Making me taste you.”
“Fuck.” You sob, feeling the mounting pressure of your oncoming orgasm “Keep going, Eds. I’m gonna fucking come.”
“You like it when I talk to you like this?” Eddie tsks, flirting with you “Y’know, I never would’ve guessed you’d be such a dirty girl in bed. Show me how dirty you can be. Grab my hair again, sweetheart. Grind against me. Fucking use me.”
You fist his ponytail, shoving his head down into you as you arch your back off of the mattress, bringing yourself closer to him as you begin to grind your wet heat against his face, chasing your high. It was coming towards you like a freight train. You rubbed down hard against his tongue, your pants picking up as you work for it. The pressure building up more. And more. And more. Until a tingling feeling intense pleasure washes over you.
“Shit! Fuck! I’m coming! Oh my god, I’m coming!”
You walked down to the nearest pay phone from the urgent care, immediately reaching for the phone book. You open it to the yellow pages, flipping through until you found the section that you were looking for; Family Planning Services. You ran your finger down the text as your eyes skimmed over what you were looking for. There it was.
You pick up the receiver, pulling some change out of your purse as you feed the coin slot enough currency to make a call, you dial the number- waiting as it rang. With each ring, your hand gripped the phone tighter- thinking about what you should say. What they would say to you. If they’d immediately know what it was that you were calling for before you even had to utter the heavy three-syllable word. Just when you thought you were about to chicken out, your ears were filled with the tinny cheerful voice on the other side of the line.
“Thank you for calling Planned Parenthood! How may I help you?”
You breathe deeply. In…then out. You swallow the nervous lump in your throat.
“Hi, I’d like to make an appointment, please.”
"God, angel. You did so good for me."
Your head was spinning as you try and catch your breath, releasing your grip on his hair.
“Doing okay up there?” Eddie asks, peering up at you as he takes in your blissed out face.
“More than okay.” You hum, causing Eddie to smile.
“Ready for more, sweet thing?” He asks, bringing your legs down from his shoulders- moving up your body to press a kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself on his mouth. The “best he’s ever tasted.” You’re sure he’s said that to every girl he’s fucked. Even Chrissy.
His body stiffens, immediately sensing your apprehension once his girlfriend- ex-girlfriend?- popped into your mind.
“Hey, you okay?” He asks, searching your face for signs of uncertainty “We don’t have to do this. We can stop.”
“N-no,” you shake your head, trying to forget about the girl that Eddie really belonged to- the girl who wasn’t you. A girl that you would never be like no matter how hard you tried. The girl that Eddie was in love with. Well, if you couldn’t have him for real then you could at least grant yourself this.
“I’m okay. I want to.” You mutter “Do you want to?”
“Yeah!” Eddie replies almost a little too fast- a little too eager “Yeah, fuck….I do. As long as you want to. We don’t have to…you know….just because I went down on you.”
“No, I want to, Eds.” You breathe “I’ve wanted to for a really long time.”
“Yeah?” He asks, his dick somehow hardening even more than it already was. Eddie could get off just from listening to you tell him that you wanted him. That you were going to grace him with the divine opportunity to have sex with you.
“How long?” He asks, staring into your eyes as he hovers above your half-naked body.
“…since middle school.” You admit, your face heating up in embarrassment.
“Fuuuuck…really?” He asks, his head spinning. And you were just now telling him this?
“Yeah.” You swallow “Really.”
“Even with the buzz cut?”
“Even with the buzz cut.”
“Fuck, you’re a little freak, you know that?” Eddie jokes, ducking his head to kiss your neck.
“Yeah?” You flirt, your voice hot and raspy “Do something about it then.”
Eddie’s eyes darkened as soon as the words left your mouth. A dare he wasn’t going to back down from. His hand flies to the hem of your tank top.
“Take your fucking tits out.”
────────
You stood on Steve’s front porch, overthinking absolutely everything. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, you thought. Especially when you had already made your presence around Eddie pretty scarce over the last month and a half. You couldn’t face him then so why the hell would you be able to face him now? Knowing that you were carrying his baby just made matters worse. Before you could officially decide against showing up, the door swings open- putting you face to face with Steve.
“Hey, you.” He smiles “How long have you been standing out here?”
His smile immediately drops when he sees the expression on your face. Something was up. He could sense it.
“You alright?” He asks, stepping towards you as he closes the front door behind him. He didn’t know why he did it but he could tell that there was a sense of privacy that he needed to provide you.
“Yeah.” You lie “I’m fine.”
You were not fine. Not even close to fine. Your insides were screaming out for you to tell someone- anyone.
“I…”
You stared at Steve, your eyes trying to tell him what your mouth couldn’t say. Steve didn’t know what had taken over him but, without even a moment’s hesitation, he reached for you- placing his hands on your upper arms. He caught the subtle way that your chin wobbled as if you were about to cry. You were not okay.
“Steve-“ You whisper, voice breaking.
Then the front door flies open, revealing Eddie Munson behind it.
“Hey, Big Boy, did you-“ He immediately freezes, walking in on your moment of vulnerability. His eyes fixate on Steve’s hands on your arms, Eddie’s jaw flexes. Steve drops his hands, looking over at Eddie.
“Hey.”
“Sorry, I…uh…popcorn?” Eddie asks, still looking between you and Steve. Something was up. He could feel it.
“In the pantry.” Steve answers “I got the one with extra butter.”
“Cool…” Eddie nods, trying to remain nonchalant before turning to speak to you “Hey, sweetheart. Good to see you.”
“Thanks, Eds.” You reply awkwardly “You too.”
Steve caught on immediately, picking up on your demeanor towards Eddie. You two were on the outs, Steve figured. But why?
“So…” Steve starts, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck “Should we start the movie? Before Robin gives us a lecture about punctuality.”
“Yeah. Right.” You nod.
You and Steve try to move towards the door at the same time, causing you both to bump shoulders.
“Sorry!” Steve apologizes, his hand landing on the small of your back, just for a moment, but Eddie saw it.
“After you.”
Steve gestures for you to enter the house first, using the same hand that had very briefly caressed your back. Eddie began to dwell. Since when did Steve become so touchy with you?
“Thanks, Stevie.” You reply, walking ahead as Eddie steps out of the doorway to let you through.
Stevie.
Since when did you call him “Stevie”?
It was within that moment that Eddie realized that something just didn’t sit right with him about this.
The touching, the weird tension he felt when he opened the door on you and Steve, his hand touching your lower back, you calling him Stevie…
There was something going on here.
And Eddie didn’t know if he liked the possibility of what that something might be.
────────
You lift up your shirt, exposing your bare breasts to Eddie as he sucks in a long breath- his eyes roving over your hardened nipples on display for him.
“Fuck.” He groans, taking the bunched up material of your tank top and pulling it over your head- tossing it across the room. He ducks his head down to run his tongue over one of your sensitive buds before nipping at it. You moan at the sensation. He grabs both of your tits with his large hands, kneading them in his palms as he grinds his clothed crotch against your core.
“Eddie…” you moan, tugging at his black button down shirt that was still on.
“Yeah, baby?” He hums, too busy kissing your tits.
“Why am I the only one naked?” You ask, taking in the fact that he was still fully-clothed while you were beneath him- completely bare and exposed.
“You want me to take my clothes off, sweetheart?” Eddie rasps, looking up at you from between your chest.
“Please?” You ask, tugging at his shirt once again.
“Okay, baby.” He replies “Whatever you want.”
He removes himself from on top of you, getting off the bed as he stands beside it. Your eyes focus on him as he slowly begins to unbutton his shirt, one-by-one- his eyes boring into you as he works his fingers down. With every button that is released, more and more of his milky skin emerges from underneath the fabric it was hidden beneath.
“Like what you see?” He smirks, finally reaching the last button before he pulls the shirt off- dropping it onto the floor beside him. Revealing his chest tattoos that you hardly ever see.
You nod, your eyes zoning in on his bulge as he begins to unbuckle his jeans. He slides the zipper down agonizingly slow. You were almost certain that he was prolonging the big reveal as much as he could in order to build tension and suspense. You were far too horny to stand it.
“Eds.” You reply sternly, giving him a look of utter impatience “I’m dying here.”
“Alright, gorgeous.” He laughs “Almost finished.”
He hooks his thumbs into the waist of his jeans, pulling them down along with his boxers. His member is freed from its restraints, slapping against his lower stomach as he lets his jeans pool at his feet- kicking them off. Your jaw practically hits the floor. It was beautiful- he was beautiful.
“Everything okay?” He asks, a bit self-conscious as you stare at him in awe. He was big- no, huge. The biggest you’ve ever witnessed in person.
“You’re- wow.” You breathe out, studying how hard he was. His tip slightly red and leaking a considerable amount of precum. Your mouth immediately begins to water like some sick Pavlovian effect that he had on you. Already trained to want him in your wet, eager mouth.
“Fuck, Eds.” You moan “Can I…”
Your eyes dart between his eyes and his dick, wordlessly conveying what you want.
“Mmm…” Eddie groans “As much I’d love you to, baby, I don’t wanna blow my load in your mouth. Wanna be inside you. That okay?”
Was that okay? You thought. It was more than fucking okay.
“Yes, please.” You breathe, watching his lips curl into a devilish smirk.
“Mmm…Y’know, baby, with manners like that, you can have whatever you fucking want.”
────────
Eddie flopped down onto the couch as you worked the room, greeting everyone that you haven’t seen in the past two weeks. Eddie couldn’t put his finger on it but something about you was just…off- besides whatever it was that he had walked in on between you and Steve.
He settled his left arm on Steve’s leather sofa, looking over his shoulder to grab at the throw blanket draped over the back of the couch. The cuddle blanket, you and Eddie had dubbed it long ago. On the occasions that Chrissy didn’t show up for movie night (which was common), Eddie saved the spot next to him just for you- ready to snuggle you close. Prepared to be your emotional support buddy in case the movie was scary- always hoping that it was so that he could feel your body nestled close to his at the scary bits and bury your face into his bicep or his chest to shield your eyes.
Eddie didn’t want to admit it but things between the two of you had been awkward ever since he and Chrissy had gotten back together after Valentine’s Day. You hadn’t cuddled since then. For the first few weeks since he and Chrissy had gotten back together, she had tagged along to movie night- being the one that snuggled up next to Eddie and shared the cuddle blanket. Come to think of it, ever since he and Chrissy made up, you hadn’t been around much at all.
With Chrissy taking your spot next to him on the sofa, you opted to sit somewhere else the past few weeks. Your interactions with him during movie night had become minimal but he was also so focused on entertaining Chrissy that he hadn’t noticed until now.
Then there were the times that he had called and asked to hang out, to which you had declined each time. Citing that you were busy or that you had caught some stomach bug that you couldn’t seem to shake off. Eddie took it all in stride, at first. Now he was worried that you were actively avoiding him. But why would you be? You said things were cool between you two, right?
“Hey, you!” Robin exclaims, hugging you tightly. Eddie eavesdrops from where he sat on the couch, trying to look preoccupied with something else as he listens in.
“How are you feeling?” She asks, looking at you with worry “Better?”
“Yeah.” You nod, trying to force a smile. Trying to pretend that nothing was wrong and that you hadn’t just found out that you were carrying someone’s baby- someone that was only a few feet away from you. “I’m better now. Mostly.”
“Good! We all missed you.” Robin replies, leaning in before whispering in your ear- low enough for only you to hear “Especially someone sitting over there.”
Robin pulls away from you, swiftly darting her eyes over in Eddie’s direction as he suddenly became very interested in the silver chains on the cuff of his jacket.
You don’t answer. Instead, you gave a weak smile before you work your way over to Nancy and Jonathan, asking them what they’ve been up to. After twenty minutes of this, Eddie was practically steaming in his seat. You seemed to be having a conversation with everyone but him tonight. What the fuck?
“Movie’s starting in five!” Dustin bellows “And we’re watching Top Gun. I don’t wanna hear any shit about it! It was my turn to pick. Nobody presses play until I get back from the bathroom.”
“Make sure you aim this time!” Steve scolds “I’m tired of cleaning up after you. I’m not your mommy, Henderson.”
Dustin gives Steve a death stare before flipping him the bird, stomping off to the bathroom down the hall.
Eddie watches as everyone starts to decide where to sit. He looks over his shoulder, finding you and Steve in the kitchen whispering to each other. He was growing impatient. He has a warm spot waiting for you and you were in there fraternizing with Harrington? Since when have the two of you even been close? Not as close as you and Eddie were. Eddie had known you before you had even developed breasts. But now you were acting like Steve was your best pal on earth? Eddie’s hands began to ball into fists. Then it only got worse.
You follow Steve back into the living room, passing Eddie up as you slump down into a spot on the other end of the sofa. Right next to Steve. What….the…fuck? The worst part? You didn’t even look in his direction. Not even a parting glance. Were you snubbing him?
Eddie watches in disbelief as Steve leans in to whisper something in your ear. You nod. Oh, Eddie thought, So you and Harrington share secrets now?
Eddie grinds his teeth, watching Steve steal his spot. Next to his girl. Who did this fucker think he was? Oh, right. King fucking Steve. Eddie rolls his eyes. Thought he grew out of that, he fumes. Clearly not. Arrogant little fuck.
“This seat taken?”
Eddie looks over to find Dustin standing in front of him, looking at the open spot next to him. The spot that you should be sitting in.
“Guess not.” Eddie bitches, his face settling into a pout. Dustin catches it and raises his eyebrows questioningly.
“Soooo….can I sit here?”
“Just sit down and shut up, Henderson.” Eddie grumbles, snatching the cuddle blanket off of the spot beside him so that Dustin could sit down.
“Geez.” Dustin sasses “Who pissed in your Corn Flakes?”
Eddie’s head whips towards Dustin, giving him a look that silently conveyed him to not push it.
Dustin took the hint, knowing just how Eddie could be when he got bitchy. It was best not to poke the bear.
────────
“You ready?” Eddie asks, lining himself up at your entrance. He runs his tip up and down your slit, feeling just how wet you are, causing him to groan. “Fuck, you’re wet. Been thinking about this.”
“Yeah?” You whine, looking into Eddie’s eyes as he continues to rub against you.
“Oh, you have no idea, sweetheart.” He rasps, his voice low “Tell me when to move.”
“I’m ready.” You answer, your voice small. Unsure.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Eddie replies, catching your apprehension “We don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.” You answer “I’m ready. Just…worried that it…”
“Worried about what, baby?” Eddie coos “What’s in your head right now?”
“Worried that it’s not gonna fit.” You admit, and the sound of your innocent voice saying something so fucking hot was enough to have Eddie throbbing.
“Don’t worry, angel. It’ll fit. I promise it will.” He replies “‘Kay?”
God, how were you both just now doing this? He should’ve been fucking you ages ago.
“Okay.” You nod.
“You trust me?” Eddie asks, looking into your eyes. Those pretty, pretty eyes.
“I trust you, Eds.”
“Good,” he breathes “Now, just relax for me, alright? I’m gonna take care of you.”
You force your body to relax underneath him, making yourself ready. You were about to have sex with Eddie. Your Eddie. Your favorite person in the entire world. The fact of it was so surreal that it felt like a dream.
Eddie grabs his member, lining himself up with your wet heat once again as he begins to enter you, watching your face for any indications of discomfort or regret.
He hears a sharp intake of breath from below him, stilling his hips as he looks down at you.
“You okay?” He asks, his voice laced with worry.
“Yeah.” You assure him “I’m okay. You feel good, Eds. So good.”
The words that left your sweet lips were enough to have him melting. The tip of him was barely in and you were already mesmerized.
“Fuck, baby.” He sighs “I’m gonna keep going. You good?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay. Shit…alright.” he babbles, inching his hips closer to you as he pushes himself deeper, sinking into your plush, slick walls.
“Ohhhh fuck…” he gasps, his hands reaching above your head to grip the sheets.
“Are you okay?” You ask, watching the way he was squeezing his eyes closed.
“Y-yeah. Fine. Just…shit, you’re tight. M’not even all the way in.” He groans “Holy fuck…”
“Do you wanna stop?”
“No!” He replies hastily “Just gimme a sec.”
He takes a deep breath, beginning to push himself into you further- focusing on the way you were suffocating his cock with your velvety soft walls. This, Eddie decided, was heaven. It had been between your thighs the entire fucking time. Who would’ve known?
He lets out an almost pornographic moan as he bottoms out, pushing himself into you as deep as possible. The action earns him a long, drawn-out moan from you. A sweet fucking sound that made him ravenous.
“Eddie!” You gasp, clawing at his arms “S-so deep.”
“Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good.” He whimpers “Fuck…”
Eddie begins to draw back, almost to the point of pulling out completely before thrusting back into you, causing you to gasp.
“Oh my god!” You squeak, your mouth falling open in pleasure.
“Fuck, you’re so hot!”
“More, Eddie!” You beg “Give me more.”
And who was Eddie fucking Munson to not give a lady what she wants?
He begins to snap his hips into you, drawing back and sinking back in like his life depended on it.
“Yes!” You whine “Eddie!”
The sound of his name tumbling from your lips only spurs him on. He grasps into your hips, angling himself to quickly fuck into your dripping cunt. The sudden angle shift had you digging your nails into his shoulders.
“Shit, Eds! Just like that!”
“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” He pants, picking up his pace "So fucking tight, baby. So fucking wet for me. Tell me you're wet for me."
"Yes, Eddie! S-so wet for you. Only you. Want you to fuck me harder!"
“Yeah? Is that how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and rough? Huh? Say it for me…”
“Eddie, please!” You beg.
“C’mon, baby. Use those pretty words of yours. Ask for what you want.” He growls.
“I want it rough!” You plead “Please!”
Eddie grunt as he drives into you harder, pounding you hard enough to jolt your body forward onto the mattress.
“Eddie! Eddie! Fuck, yes!” You chant.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Taking me so well. Like you were fucking made for my cock. Isn’t that right? Want it so bad, huh? Such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this.” Eddie praises “Such a good, good girl.”
The sounds of your moans coupled with the sound of Eddie pounding you into the mattress was downright filthy.
“Fuckin’ drenching my cock, princess. Fuck, that’s so sexy. You’re so sexy.” Eddie babbles “Can’t believe I’m fucking you. God-“
You began to feel the tell-tale signs of your high approaching, becoming breathless and desperate as Eddie fucked himself into you.
“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Fuck! Please!” You didn’t even know what you were asking for but all you could do is plead with him.
“What, baby?” He coos “Am I fucking you too good? Want me to stop?”
“No!” You cry out “Please, please, please don’t stop!”
“That’s right, sweetheart.” He praises “You can take it, can’t you? Taking my cock so fucking well.”
“Eddie, I-I’m close!” You gasp out desperately.
“Yeah?” He purrs “You close? You gonna come on my cock, sweetheart?”
“Please.” You practically sob “Wanna come for you. So bad.”
“Mmm…fuck!” Eddie growls “I’m getting close too, angel. Need to get you there first.”
Without hesitation, Eddie reaches down between you- placing his ring-clad middle finger onto your sensitive bundle of nerves as he roughly plays with your clit, sending you closer to the edge.
“Shit! Oh! Oh! Oh god!” You shout, your orgasm beginning to rip through you “Oh yesss! Fuck, I’m coming! I’m coming!”
“That’s right, angel! Come for me! Fuckin’ give it to me!”
It was the last thing you could hear before your screams began to fill the bedroom, your chest heaving as your orgasm took over your body. Your toes began to curl, your mouth dropping open as you were beginning to see stars. Eddie leans down to press his lips against yours, trying to stifle the sounds of your climax so that your neighbors couldn’t hear you and file a noise complaint with your apartment complex.
“Shit, baby! You’re squeezing me so tight.” Eddie pants, removing his lips from yours “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Almost there.”
He helped you ride out your orgasm, continuing to chase his own as you writhed in pleasure underneath him and Eddie swore that it was the hottest thing he’s ever fucking seen. Not even the horniest, filthiest porn-flick he’s ever watched could top this. This was the real fucking deal. The sexiest thing he’s ever fucking experienced- and it had him tumbling over the edge right after you.
"Fuck! Never felt something so tight! Christ, don't make me pull out. Please."
Without warning, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in close as you hook your ankles together- holding him there. The action has his eyes practically rolling into the back of his skull. He slams his cock into you mercilessly.
“I’m gonna fucking come, baby! Fuck! Oh fuck!” He buries himself into your cunt so deep that he wanted to fucking live there and never come out. He wanted to fucking marry it. He swore to Christ himself and the heavens above that your pussy was the gold standard- the best he’s ever fucking had. The best he would ever have.
“Baby! Baby! Holy shit!” His voice breaks as Eddie hits his limit “I’m fucking coming!”
────────
“Eddie, you good, man?”
Dustin looks down at Eddie, standing over him as he shrugged on his jacket to brave the rainstorm that had started shortly into the movie.
“M’fine, Henderson.” Eddie drones, staring straight ahead with the same scowl on his face that he had had the entire movie.
“You sure? ‘Cause you look like you’re gonna kill someone.”
“Henderson, I’m gonna kill you if you don’t stop asking me stupid questions.” Eddie hisses.
“This is about her, isn’t it?” Dustin whispers, glancing towards you on the other side of the room as you stood next to Steve- helping him store leftover pizza in his fridge.
“Is it because she didn’t sit next to you?” Dustin prods, trying to find the source of Eddie’s unhappiness. Eddie just wants him to back off and mind his own business for once instead of worrying about him.
“Don’t you have someone else to bother, Henderson?” Eddie quips “Seriously, go away.”
“Geez.” Dustin rolls his eyes “Just go ahead and be all bitchy towards me because your other lady is blowing you off for Steve.”
Eddie’s eyes immediately snap onto Dustin.
“You noticed it too?” Eddie questions, completely ignoring Dustin’s comment about you being his “other lady” Eddie didn’t even care enough to straighten him out about that. All he cared about was finding out what Dustin knew about you and Steve.
“Yeah, I guess.” Dustin shrugs “I mean, I noticed that she hasn’t spoken to you since she got here. Especially when you two are usually on the end of that couch doing everything but sucking each other’s faces off.”
“Hey, no.” Eddie interjects “First of all, it’s not like that with us.”
“Like what?” Dustin challenges “Like you’re not totally in love with her?”
“Who said I was in love with her, Henderson?”
“You don’t have to.” Dustin replies “You’re more transparent than a sheet of plexiglass. She could ask you to jump off the quarry and you’d already be at the bottom doing the breaststroke.”
“You, Henderson,” Eddie replies, pointing his finger at Dustin “Don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you forget that I have a girlfriend? An amazing, adorable, super sweet girlfriend that loves me.”
“Oh, I remember. I think you are the one who forgets that you have a girlfriend, Eddie.”
And that was the comment that really struck a nerve.
“Excuse me, you little shit-stain?”
“Hey, I’m just saying,” Dustin tries to reason “I don’t know if Chrissy would be very happy if she saw the way that you looked at the girl that’s supposedly you’re best friend.”
“And how exactly do I look at her, hm?” Eddie challenges “Go ahead, do enlighten me.”
“Just forget it, Eddie.” Dustin replies, realizing not that it was a bad idea to even bring it up now that he knew that Eddie would never drop it.
“No, tell me.” Eddie crosses his arms “I’m dying to know. How do I look at her?”
Dustin sighs. He wished he would’ve just kept his mouth shut.
“I said forget it, Eddie.” Dustin sighs “Look, can you give me a ride? It’s raining and I don’t want to bike all the way home.”
“Yeah.” Eddie grumbles, still annoyed but never wanting to let his friends stand out in the cold and the rain “Sure. Whatever. Grab your shit, we’re leaving in five.”
Eddie rises from the couch, turning towards the kitchen to still find you and Steve standing there. Talking. What could the two of you possibly be talking about for so fucking long?
Eddie plucks up the courage to talk to you, approaching you and Steve in the kitchen as you speak in hushed tones. As soon as they see him approaching, the immediately stop talking.
Okay, Eddie thought, that’s totally not fucking weird or anything.
He stands in front of you and Steve, feeling an awkward tension between the three of you.
“Hey, man.” Steve smiles, looking at Eddie as if nothing abnormal was just happening. But it was, right? Or was it all in Eddie’s head?
“Hey.” Eddie clears his throat before turning to look at you “I, uh…me and Henderson are heading out. I came over to see if you wanted a ride home. Y’know, since it’s raining.” And because I always take you home.
“Oh.” You reply as if you’re taken aback. Eddie begins to feel even more suspicious. Since when were you surprised when he offered to take you home? He always dropped you off at your apartment after movie night. Hell, he was the one who drove you around Hawkins whenever there was somewhere you needed to go. Why were you acting so odd about it now?
“Thanks, Eds, but Steve is actually going to take me home.” You continue “But I appreciate you offering.”
You appreciate him offering? Since when did he have to offer, ever? It was an unspoken agreement since basically the dawn of time that he was your ride home. Now you were carpooling it up with Harrington? What…the…fuck?
“Sure, yeah. Cool.” Eddie responds, trying to feign nonchalance. Except it was totally not cool. It was vastly and entirely not cool. “So…I see you’re feeling better. I was thinking that maybe we can, y’know, hang out. I miss having you around.”
“Oh. Really?” You ask, not knowing what to say “I, uh…I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I have a lot going on and stuff.”
“Yeah?” Eddie questions “Do you wanna talk about it, maybe?”
“That’s nice of you to ask, Eddie.” You say “But it’s a little late and I’m kind of not in the mood to talk about it right now.”
Oh, but I’m sure you wanna talk about it with Mr. Perfect with his stupid good hair.
“Sure, yeah.” Eddie nods “I get it.”
“But I’ll call you soon.” You add “Promise.”
“Sure.” Eddie nods.
Liar.
“I’ll….see you around.”
Before you could reply, Eddie had turned on his heels-stomping off to collect Dustin and get the fuck out of there. The sooner that he could be at home in his bedroom and wallowing in his own self-pity, the better.
────────
“Fuck,” Eddie pants, flopping down onto the mattress beside you as he begins to laugh incredulously “That was…”
Amazing? Spectacular? Fucking sublime? Absolutely mind-blowing? Life-altering? The best thing he’s ever fucking felt in his subpar life?
“Wow.” He breathes “Shit…”
You, on the other hand, lay beside him. Silent. Just thinking. A feeling of immense guilt and regret flooding you. You just fucked Eddie- and you liked it. No, loved it. You loved him. You were in love with him.
“Hey,” Eddie whispers, taking in your lack of response as he rolls over onto his side to face you “You good?” His stomach drops when he notices your lack of euphoric afterglow. Fuck. Shit! You hated it.
No. No, no, no, please god no.
“Yeah.” You mumble “I’m okay. I’m good.”
But you didn’t seem good and that made Eddie begin to spiral.
“Shit! Did I hurt you? Did I do something wrong?” He questions, searching your face for something- anything.
“What?” You ask “No! No, I’m okay. Just….thinking.”
“You hated it…”
“No! No, I didn’t hate it!” You exclaim “It was nice, Eds. I just….I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Look…I’m gonna go take a shower. Maybe that’ll help.”
“Yeah…sure. That’s a good idea. Do you…want me to join you?” Eddie asked hesitantly, hoping that you’d say yes. That he could hold you underneath the warm, running water and get you to finally open up to him about what was going on.
“That’s okay.” You shoot him down, beginning to rise from the mattress as you grab at the bed sheets, covering yourself up self-consciously as you get out of bed. As if Eddie didn’t just see all of you- especially the most intimate parts. “I’m gonna be in and out anyway. You can stay…if you want.” You offer. “It’s late.”
“Yeah,” Eddie mutters “Okay.”
He watches as you grasp the bedsheet around yourself tightly as you walk towards the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. Before you closed the bathroom door closed, you look over your shoulder at Eddie- who was watching you worriedly.
“Eds,” You say, your voice barely a whisper “It was nice. Really nice.”
Eddie’s heart began to lift even just a little bit. At least he knew that it wasn’t absolutely, tragically terrible for you. It still wasn’t the reaction that he was hoping for. It wasn’t coupled with the heart-felt sweet confession that you maybe loved him just as much as he loved you. But he also knew that would only ever happen in his passionate wet-dream fantasies about you.
Before he could respond, you had already gone into the bathroom- closing the door behind you as you left him naked and vulnerable in your bed. Yearning for you desperately even after just having been inside you, the closest that he’s ever fucking been to you.
Fuck, Eddie thought, this girl is going to kill me.
────────
You were seated in the passenger seat of Steve’s BMW, fiddling nervously with your seatbelt strap as he drove toward your apartment.
“So, how long have you and Eddie been hooking up? I thought he was dating Chrissy.”
“He is.” You sigh, continuing to explain the complexity of your situation to Steve “And it was only once. On Valentine’s Day.”
“Okay…” Steve replies, trying to follow along “But didn’t he go out to Enzo’s with Chrissy on Valentine’s Day? I just don’t understand how you two ended up having sex. I mean, I’m not, like, judging or anything. Honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”
“What?” You ask, confused by what Steve was saying “What do you mean?”
“Oh, c’mon.” Steve huffs out a laugh “Don’t pretend like you and Munson haven’t had the hots for each other for years.”
“What? No. Me and Eddie have only ever been..you know…platonic.” You argue.
“You’re joking, right?” Steve counters “You do realize you’re literally telling me right now that you and Eddie had sex. Like, sex-sex. As in he stuck his d-“
“I know!” You interject, cutting Steve off before he could say the words “I know what I fucking said, okay?”
“It’s just…you hear how ridiculous that sounds?”
“Look, Steve, I said it was complicated.” You huff.
“Honey, I don’t think it’s as complicated as you think it is. You like Eddie. Eddie more than likes you, trust me. You two hooked up…and now…”
“I’m pregnant.” You state.
“Yeah.” Steve nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed “Pregnant.”
“What the fuck do I do?” You groan, throwing your head back against the headrest.
“Are you going to tell him?” Steve asks, looking over at you as he continues to drive.
“No!” You exclaim “Absolutely not! No.”
“Okay.” Steve answers “Well, what are your plans?”
“I, uh…I have an appointment on Monday. At Planned Parenthood. To…you know.” You reveal, your heart pounding as you finally say the words out loud. That you didn’t plan on keeping it.
“Shit, okay.” Steve nods “And you’re sure?”
“Yeah.” You reply “I just…I can’t have a baby, Steve. Especially not Eddie’s. My love-life would be over after that. Nobody’s gonna want to date me when I come attached with a kid.”
“I don’t know,” Steve jokes “Munson seems like he’d totally be into that.”
“Ugh! Can you stop fucking saying shit like that?” You bury your head in your hands “Even if Eddie wasn’t already with Chrissy, he’d skip town and run for the hills if he found out that I was pregnant with his baby.”
“I don’t know about that.” Steve shrugs “I think Eddie would step up. Especially knowing it was you who was having his kid. You know how he is with all that shit with his own dad. I just don’t see him abandoning you.”
“Well, we don’t know that for sure.” You lay out “And we’re sure as hell not going to find out. Which is why I kind of need your help, Steve. Like, really.”
“Yeah.” Steve replies without hesitation “Of course. I’ll be there one-hundred percent. You know that. Just tell me what you need and I’ll be right there next to you.”
Your heart warms at Steve’s admission. You always knew he was a good friend but now you were realizing just how good of a friend he was to you. Supporting you, comforting you, keeping your secret.
“Do you, maybe, think that you could take me? They said that I need someone to drive me. Make sure that I get back home safe after. I could also use the emotional support. Someone to hold my hand in the waiting room before I go in.”
“Of course!” Steve accepts “I’ll be there. For as long as you need me. You don’t have to do this alone.”
You begin to feel the prickliness of oncoming tears in your eyes from Steve’s words. Finally relieved that you had told someone. That someone was by your side and that you didn’t have to do this alone. You use your sleeve to wipe at your tears, trying to control your breathing enough to prevent yourself from sobbing. You sniff, staring into your lap as caught sight of Steve’s hand reach for yours- taking it in his own as he rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand soothingly.
You look over at him, watching as he gave you a sad smile before averting his eyes back onto the dark, stormy road ahead. You were glad that you had asked him to bring you home.
“Thank you, Steve.” You whisper into the silent cab of his car “This means a lot of me. More than you know.”
You lock eyes with him again but he doesn’t say anything back. Just sitting in the silence. He didn’t have to say anything. The way that he squeezed your hand in his let you know that he knew exactly what this meant to you. You didn’t have to say a word.
────────
You dressed yourself in the bathroom, your hair wet from the shower as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You could barely even make eye-contact with your reflection, guilt eating you from the inside out. All you could think about was Chrissy Cunningham. How you had sex with her boyfriend. How you let Eddie fuck you like some cheap rebound while he had to still be dwelling over the breakup. Were things even over between the two of them? You doubted it, yet you slept with Eddie anyway- and the reality of it made you feel dirty. Now you had to get back into bed and face him.
You braced yourself as you opened the bathroom door, preparing yourself to act normal but as soon as you stepped into the dark bedroom, you realized that you didn’t have to. The bed where Eddie once laid was empty. The pile of clothes that he had left on the side of the bed were gone. He had dressed himself and left without even bothering to say goodbye.
You stood there, dumbstruck.
No, you thought, there’s no way that he could have just left.
There’s no way that he could have just fucked you and walked out like a cheap hook-up. Some regretful one night stand.
You storm out of your bedroom, walking into your living room as you search around for him. Expecting to find him in the kitchen raiding your fridge for a late-night post-sex snack. But no. It was empty. You hurried back into the living room, looking to see that his boots were gone from where he had kicked them off during the movie. Eddie had taken off. Nowhere to be found.
You walk about into your bedroom, filled with disbelief. Checking your nightstand for a note, at least. An explanation on where he went or even why he had left. Nothing. Your blood ran cold. You sink down into your bed, noticing that the covers were pulled back up. You throw yourself back onto the bed in agony, feeling something underneath your back and the sound of crunching in your ears.
You sit back up, reaching to pull the covers back as you find the bouquet of wilted red roses on the side of the bed where his body used to be. Just staring back at you. Left there just for you. Leaving you wondering what they meant. Why he had left them there. Why he wasn’t in their place instead. How you wished it were him. How you wished that he had been laying there waiting for you to get out of the shower and climb in next to him and hold you in his arms and keep you warm and run his fingers through your damp hair. How you wanted him to show you that he didn’t regret this. That he wanted you like how you wanted him. That everything was okay.
baratheonpilled
tangentwithtanner
snowghoul
dededos
dailybridgerton
discoholicmusic
