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munsonhoneybaby · 2 years ago

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Too Much in Common | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader

Summary: After Dustin brings Eddie home for a D&D campaign, you find yourself enjoying his company more frequently than expected.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, drug use (marijuana), smut, kinda automatic dubcon since they're both fried?, fingering, a lil praise, eddie’s just a lil obsessed

A/N: it hasn’t been explicitly stated yet but reader is adopted. hopefully i actually post a part two in a timely manner.

part two | finale | tmic masterlist

The rumbling of Eddie’s van ceased in the Hendersons’ driveway as he turned the key back in the ignition. He was surprised, however, when the metal thrum of a guitar continued despite his radio now being off. Opening his door, he recognized “N.I.B.” by Black Sabbath and realized it was coming from inside, making his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

He made his way to the front door, not bothering to knock beforehand since Dustin was expecting him and the kid’s mom wasn’t home. “Since when did you get a taste in music, Henderson?” He called over the music blaring from the sound system in the living room. A door around the corner slammed open much more forcefully than necessary and the aforementioned freshman barreled out of his bedroom.

“It’s my sister!” He shouted back. “She said I could have you guys over while Mom is gone if I didn’t bitch while she was in charge, but APPARENTLY THAT MEANS MAKING ME GO DEAF!”

Eddie could just barely make out your muttered “oh please” as you entered from the kitchen. You turned down the volume until the sound could be considered background noise. “If anyone here is gonna go deaf, it’s me from your constant shrieking.” Distressed jeans hugged the curve of your waist perfectly and the Poison t-shirt you had on looked soft from numerous wears. He tried not to stare, but he was sure he looked like a cartoon character– bugging, heart-shaped eyes and jaw hitting the floor. He almost missed it when you acknowledged him. “Munson. I heard you were still running Hellfire. Didn’t realize you’d be coming today.”

Oh fuck. You knew him. You knew him? How did you know him? Of course, you had gone to the same school, everybody in Hawkins did, but he would remember meeting a girl like you. Would you be upset with him for not knowing who you are? God, already embarrassing himself and he hasn’t even started talk–

“Relax,” You snorted. “I was a grade under you at Hawkins and I was homeschooled my senior year. We never talked, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me. I’m pretty sure everybody knows about you, though.” And this is when you tell him to get out of your house and stay away from your kid brother because he’s a drug-dealing, Satan-worshipping freak. “It’s nice you’re still running the D&D club, sounds like everything else there gets worse every year.”

Some of the tension in his muscles slipped away and he realized he’d been subtly bracing himself. “Oh–” The doorbell rang and Dustin ran to get it, welcoming in Mike and Lucas who were already amicably bickering louder than necessary. Behind them trailed the two others they had ridden with, Jeff and Gareth if you remembered correctly. They seemed a little uncomfortable holding a session in a new house, but relaxed drastically when they set eyes on Eddie. “Uh– you guys can go ahead down to the basement with the freshmeat. I’ll be down in a sec, alright?” They nodded, waving politely to you before following the boys.

When they were gone, you and Eddie locked eyes again. “Seriously, I’m glad Dusty has someone watching out for him. He takes more shit than he deserves. Just try to be a good role model, alright? If I find out you give that kid Special K or some shit, it’s fucking over for you. Got it?”

“I would never let anything bad happen to those kids when they’re with me,” He spoke earnestly. “I’m gonna look out for them. If I’m ever gonna do anything right, it’s that.”

“I believe you, Munson.” You gave him a small smile and nodded towards the basement door. “You should probably get going. They can’t start the game without their dungeon master, right?”

An embarrassed flush fought its way up his neck to his cheeks as you turned towards the hall where your bedroom was. Before you could get more than a couple of steps though, he gently grasped your wrist. “Hey uh, by the way– I just wanted you to know that I don’t really– I don’t do any hard stuff anymore. Haven’t in a while. I hardly even sell it anymore and I stopped selling to first-timers.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, don’t worry about it. I totally get it, I just wanted to let you know; for your peace of mind, I guess. You deserve to know who your baby brother’s hanging around with, I don’t want you to think I’m too bad an influence.”

“I don’t think you’re too bad, Munson. Just a healthy amount.” You gave his own wrist a small squeeze as you slipped your hand from his and finally went back to your own room. He gazed after you momentarily, even after your door had closed. If the guys were still present, they would definitely be giving him shit.

As if on cue, he heard Dustin’s muffled shout from the basement. “Eddie, hurry the hell up!”

You were sitting on the front porch swing lighting a joint when his beat-up van pulled up two nights later. “Seek & Destroy” poured from his cracked-open windows until his door opened and he set foot on your driveway once again. “He’s not here, y’know,” You called to him.

“That’s alright, I actually just needed to–” Eddie was halfway between you and his van when he caught a whiff of a particularly familiar scent. A shocked, teasing grin slowly spread across his face. “Henderson, are you smoking marijuana right now?”

In spite of yourself, you let out a laugh, coughing around a lungful of smoke in the process. “Say it a little louder, Munson, I don’t think the deafening Metallica got the neighbors’ attention.”

Laughing, he dropped into the space next to you on the swing. “I didn’t peg you for the smoking type.”

“Oh, you mean from the three minutes we interacted?” You squinted playfully but held the joint out to him. “Just weed, I don’t fuck with anything else personally.”

He took you up on the offer, calloused fingertips brushing your skin as he took the joint from you. Examining it for a moment, he smirked as he took a hit. “Fuckin’ with it pretty hard, apparently,” He breathed out. “You roll almost as good as I do.”

“Good, then you can roll the next one.” It passes between you as you speak, though Eddie tries to keep his turns short out of courtesy. “Which brings us back to the topic of why you’re here mooching my shit. You said you needed to do something?”

“Right, I uh- I forgot my lucky dice here the other night. I figured I’d pick ‘em up on my way home from The Hideout.”

“Oh yeah, you’re in a band or something, right?”

“Since middle school,” He nodded, “Just me and a few guys from school, s’called Corroded Coffin.”

“Sounds metal.”

“We try to,” He chuckled.

“You like Black Sabbath and Metallica, you’d better,” You teased. You didn’t notice the way his eyes followed your every move as you smoked. The way your cheeks hollowed ever so slightly as you sucked in a hit, how your breath hitched and your eyes fell closed as you held it in. The corners of his lips curled up in amusement watching you blow Os while conversation lulled for a moment. Offering him one last hit first, you stub out the roach on the ground and stand from your seat. “C’mon in, you can go get your dice.”

“Thanks,” He hummed, grabbing the door as soon as it was open to hold it for you.

“Have you eaten?” You ask, heading into the kitchen as he made his way toward the basement door. “I haven’t, I was gonna make a sandwich or something. You want one?”

“That’d be great, actually, thank you.” The dice weren’t hard to find seeing as he’d left them there on purpose. So maybe it was a little weird, definitely a little desperate, but he wanted to make sure he had another opportunity to see you– get his foot in the door, so to speak– and he really hadn’t expected all this. He’d hoped you’d be the one to answer the door and he’d get to make small talk for a few minutes, point out your shared taste in music maybe, but this? Catching you alone, sharing a joint, getting invited in for something to eat? This was going better than he could’ve possibly expected.

“Find ‘em?” You called down.

“Yup!” He jogged back up the stairs, waving the small velvet bag as he joined you in the kitchen. “All good.”

“What a relief. Can’t have the dungeon master thrown off his game, that would be a travesty.” You glanced up at him mischievously as you finished making the first sandwich, scooting the plate across the counter to him.

Eddie suppressed a smile, shaking his head as he picked up the sandwich. “You just love teasin’ me with that, don’t you?” He asked before he took what was probably an unattractively large bite.

“Depends on what kind of teasing we’re talking about, Munson.” You drawled casually in return, turning to continue making your own. Meanwhile, it was an effort just for him to keep his food in his mouth without choking on it. You were flirting with him.

Weren’t you? Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d meant it the other way around– that you’d only tease him in a joking way and that you’d never want to–

“Eddie, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears,” You snorted. “Stop thinking so hard, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” You took a big bite before grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. “Want one?” His answer was going to be yes, but you were grabbing him one before he had responded anyway. There was a brief and fairly comfortable silence as you cleaned up the rest of your small mess and he took a few long swigs of his water. “Wanna finish these in my room? We could smoke another joint maybe…just chill out, I don’t know…”

“Yeah, totally,” He agreed, maybe a little too eagerly.

“You’re rolling though,” You remind him over your shoulder as he begins to follow you to your bedroom.

The door creaked as you opened it, waiting for him to enter after you so you could close it. As you opened the window wide and lit a stick of incense, he took in his surroundings. Your room wasn’t like the average teenage girl’s– not that Eddie had seen very many of those– not pastel-colored, or frilly, or covered in heartthrob posters, though a few stuffed animals were perched tenderly on your bed. Actually, it was almost more like his, albeit much more organized. There were posters of horror movies and rock bands filling a decent amount of the empty space on your walls, the Dio flag pinned to the ceiling drawing his attention. “Oh, that is so sick!”

“I thought you might like some ‘a this stuff,” You laughed softly. Nodding towards the stereo in the corner, you continued, “You can put something on if you want.” He squatted down to look through your cassettes, hearing your voice move through the room as you got out your bud, tray, and paper. “Try to keep it understated though, alright? Nothing too hard or fast right now.”

“Really tryin’ to mellow out tonight, huh?” He began playfully, but looked back at you as his tone softened a little. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, I’m alright,” You reassure. With the cassette in place, he made sure the volume was low before it began playing softly as you spoke. “I just get a little too pent up sometimes, you know? Everything’s just been kind of a lot lately, ‘s why I was already smoking when you showed up.”

“Hey, I can beat it if you want. I didn’t mean to show up outta the blue at a bad time and I definitely don’t have to stick around if you don’t want me here. I can totally get it if you want the time to yourself–”

“Please stay,” You quietly interrupted, then seemed a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t– I’d appreciate the company if you wanna stay a little while.”

Eddie gave you a comforting smile before taking a seat at your vanity to roll the joint, trying to lighten the mood. “Careful what you wish for, Henderson. I mean, you’ve got good music, good weed, made me dinner; I might be hangin’ around here more often with this kinda treatment. You’ve got me livin’ the life, babe.”

Laying down on your bed to watch him, your voice was more serious than he expected when you replied. “You’re welcome any time, you know. Mom likes when the house is busy and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Dustin practically worships the ground you walk on.” His rings glinted in the lamplight as he carefully sprinkled the bud onto the paper.

“Yeah? And what’s your review, hm?” You didn’t mean to stare at the way his lips wrapped around the joint or how his tongue traced the seam of the paper to seal it.

You hummed vaguely as he finished up, gently plucking it from between his fingers when he was done. Dramatically inspecting it much longer than he had yours, you finally say, “You roll clean joints.”

He shakes his head and laughs. Your lips close around the paper, feeling the seam still damp with his spit, and you jut your chin toward his lighter on the vanity. Grabbing it without a word, he leans forward to give you a light. Your gaze catches on his rings once more before lifting to his face again. A reflection of the flame makes the brown of his eyes warmer as they lock with yours, looking up from where you still lay on the bed on your stomach. You take a long pull as he draws the lighter away again and the spell is broken.

Sitting up to breathe the smoke in deeper, you tuck your knees under you. Eddie joins you on your bed, but not before he kicks off his shoes by the bedroom door. He sits cross-legged just in front of your pillows so you shuffle around to face him. “So, how was your concert?”

He snorted, “Concert might be a bit heavy. Gig is a little more accurate. Show maybe.”

You roll your eyes, but keep your tone light and pass the joint. “You’re a loser, you know that? You knew exactly what I was talking about, answer the question.”

“It was pretty good I guess,” He shrugged and took a long hit. “I think there may have been a whole seven people this time. And one of them was even sober!”

You smiled sympathetically, “You’re just in the wrong town. Don’t worry, I’ll come watch you play. I don’t know if that’d be a good atmosphere for the boys, but I could probably force Steve, Nancy, and Robin to come.

He twisted one of his rings around his finger for a moment. “That’s really nice, sweetheart.”

With each toke you both took, the joint burned slightly shorter until it was almost completely gone. “You want the last hit?” you asked. “I finished the last one. And you rolled this one anyway.”

“No, that’s alright. It’s your weed; I’m literally a drug dealer, I’ve got plenty at home.”

“Here,” You took one last long drag and he raised an eyebrow in confusion, but he understood when you sat up further on your knees and leaned toward him. A sense of giddy excitement overtook him for a second, nerves probably heightened from the weed, but he kept his composure. When your lips slotted over his, he took a deep breath in. His hand slid into your hair to keep your head steady as you sighed the smoke into his mouth. Your lips grazed over his afterward, very obviously lingering long after it was necessary. You giggled as you slumped down into a laying position, letting your head fall back into his lap.

“Seems like someone’s a lot more relaxed now,” He cooed playfully.

“Sorry, I can get off ‘f you–” He notices how your voice is slightly rougher after smoking so much.

“Hey, no–” His hands settle warmly over your shoulders, not holding you down so much as they were encouraging you to stay put. “It’s alright, baby. You can get comfy, you’re not bothering me.”

His hands soothed up and down your arms as you settled back in. “That feels really nice.” You hummed quietly and it drew out into another giggle, “Everything feels really nice.”

He laughs a little airily himself, “It does, doesn’t it?” Your skin felt so soft and warm beneath his fingertips, tracing imaginary shapes along the bare flesh of your arms. “‘M feelin’ pretty good, myself.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander to his pretty pink lips again. They’d felt so soft against yours and you wanted more– to really feel him this time. His thumb brushes your chin, dragging down in a way that had your mouth opening slightly. “What’re you thinkin’ so hard about, sweet thing?”

Blinking up at him with glassy eyes, you raised an arm to brush your fingers over his flushed cheek. “Eddie, c’n you kiss me? Please?”

“Yeah?” He moved his thumb a bit higher to tug your lower lip down a bit, face dipping down a bit closer to yours. “That what you want?” You were nodding before he even finished his sentence, making him chuckle quietly.

He allowed his lips to graze teasingly over yours, just barely touching, before finally kissing you. His nose brushed your chin and you could feel the small smile adorning his face before your lower lip was sucked softly between his. Fingers winding into his mess of frizzy curls, you moaned quietly into his mouth and pulled him closer. After another moment though, he slowly drew back, lips separating from yours with a soft smack that made you unreasonably desperate for more.

An ache had sparked in his lower back while loading the amps into the van after their show earlier that evening, deepening as he proceeded to help load the rest of the equipment afterward. Now the deep curve he had molded it to in order to keep his mouth on yours had the pain radiating up his entire back. “As much as I’m enjoying this– and believe me, babe, I’m seriously enjoying it– my back is kinda killin’ me and hunching over you like this…” 95% of his brain was screaming at him to shut the fuck up, to ignore it and just keep kissing you breathless anyway, but the other 5% was crying out to lay down and he had to listen.

“Oh, sorry,” There was a slight pant in your voice as you released your grasp on his hair. He sat up slowly as if a movement too fast would shatter the calm in the air. You sat up yourself, watching as he eased himself back onto your pillows. “S’that better?”

“Way better,” He confirmed. “We can uh- we could keep kissing if you want.”

Openly cringing at how awkward that sounded, he opened his mouth to say something else before you interrupted him with a still-sluggish giggle. “I’d like that, Eddie.”

“Okay,” He nodded rapidly.

Leaning forward onto your hands and knees, you crawled into his lap. His hands instantly settled on your thighs, running up and down the material of your pajama pants. His eyes flickered wildly over your body a few times before gazing up at you in awe. You didn’t waste any time in kissing him again, which was much easier now that he wasn’t upside down. As you moaned into his mouth, his hands molded to your hips, squeezing and pulling you as tight to him as he could get you. His tongue slipped between your lips, making them open further as your hands found his hair once again.

He didn’t mean to start moving, slowly grinding into you in an attempt to relieve the tightness in his jeans that definitely wasn’t a problem before he came over— but then you were rocking down on him yourself, clothed cunt rubbing against him in a desperate search for friction. Hips rutting up into yours, he braced a palm against your lower back. You could feel his hardness pressing into you through the layers of clothing between you. Pulling back for air, you panted into his mouth, still subtly grinding against him. “Fuck,” He grunted quietly. The soft whimper of his name that you gave him in return made his head fall back against the wall with a thud. “Got me so fuckin’ hard, sweet thing. Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t wanna stop,” You whined back quietly. “Feels so good.”

“Good,” He cooed. “Don’t worry, ‘m gonna keep makin’ you feel good.” Hot, open-mouthed kisses moved down your neck and you let out a moan. His fingers wormed their way past the hem of your shirt, tracing the cup of your bra. “This okay?” He mumbled against your skin. Nodding, you cupped his hand and guided it higher until he pushed your bra out of the way. The pad of his thumb brushed firmly over your nipple, making your hips jerk against his. “Mmm, so sensitive. Is that jus’ the weed or are you always like this?”

“Both,” You breathed out. “‘N you’re good at all this.”

“Aw you don’t have to butter me up, baby,” He grinned. “I’m gonna make you cum either way.” Free hand dipping past the waistband of your pajama pants, Eddie continued playfully, “But, go on. Keep tellin’ me how much I turn you on.”

“Eddie,” You pleaded, “C’mon.”

Fingers stroking the damp fabric of your underwear, he asked, “This okay? Really want me to touch you?” Your desperate nods made his lips curl, pressing more firmly against you and drawing out a moan that you tried to stifle. “No, no, no, you gotta tell me how it feels, sweet thing. We’re all alone, you can make those pretty noises, it’s okay.”

Your head slumped into the crook of his neck, mouthing lazily at his skin. Nudging your underwear to the side, he sank his middle finger knuckle-deep into you. Grasping tightly at the worn material of his t-shirt, your breath hitched. “Mmm, fuck– yes, Eddie, thank you.”

“Look at you, usin’ your manners ‘n everything. Of course, you would. Such a good girl.” Your moans only grew louder, making his hips jerk in search of friction. “So warm and wet, bet you’d feel so good around my cock.” Lifting your head to kiss him again, your hand found the shape of his length in his jeans. He rolled his thumb over your clit in circles as his hips rocked against your palm. Mouths open against each other’s, you exchanged panting breaths and muffled moans. Confined by your pants, his hand didn’t have much room for movement, leaving your hips stuttering frustratedly. “Lemme get these off’a you, babe. Can make you feel so much better than this.”

Suddenly, his hand was curled under your thigh and you let out a small squeal as you were flipped onto your back beneath him. Your pants and underwear were yanked down your legs feverishly, Eddie parting them to slip two fingers into you this time. “Shit, Eds!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Immediately, he tried to withdraw his hand, but you gripped his wrist to stop him.

“Don’t stop, Eddie. Please, don’t stop,” You rushed.

“Alright, sweetheart, ‘m right here. Don’t worry.” Your hands laced into his hair for stability as his fingers crooked into a spot that almost made your eyes cross. Already dripping onto your bedspread, you pulled him even closer to you. Smirk spreading across his face, he said, “Oh yeah. That’s the spot, huh, baby?”

“Fuck, Eddie, you’re gonna make me come,” You whined.

“Good, want you to soak my fingers.” His hips rocked forward, clothed cock grinding into the back of your thigh. “Wanna feel you come for me.” The way his thumb rubbed so firmly against your clit had heat shooting all the way to your toes. Desperately tugging him down for another kiss, your thighs trembled as they squeezed closed around his hand. “There it is,” He murmured lowly against your lips. “Mmm, you’d feel so fuckin’ good coming around my cock, sweet thing.” The deep cadence of his voice had you shaking.

Grasping at the back of his shirt, you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He held you in silence for a long moment until your head eventually dropped back against the bed. A smile slowly grew on your face as you looked up at him and you let out a small giggle, making him grin down at you. He laughed softly too as he pressed his forehead against yours.

Eyes darting shortly to the alarm clock on your nightstand, you did a double-take when you noticed how late it was. “Son of a bitch, my mom’s gonna be home any minute!” You grabbed your discarded underwear and pajama pants from the foot of the bed as soon as Eddie had peeled himself off of you. “Uh– fuck, I’m really sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to invite you in just for this, I just didn’t realize how late it got. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, but–”

“Are you kidding?” He was already leaning against the wall by your door, slipping on his beat-up air forces. “I had a blast, babe. We should do this again sometime,” He winked teasingly.

You rolled your eyes half-heartedly, feeling your body warm. When the two of you reached the front door, you rubbed your arm and met his eyes only a bit awkwardly. “I’m sorry again about not…returning the favor.”

He chuckled, giving you a small smirk. “Don’t worry about me, sweet thing. After tonight, I’ll have no trouble taking care of it myself.” Taking a step closer to you, he leaned down for a kiss that was much slower and softer than the last few you’d shared. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Night, Eddie. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”

“Anytime.”

You waited at the door until he’d gotten in his van and driven away before finally heading back to your room. As soon as you closed your bedroom door and flopped down on your bed, you heard your mom’s car pull into the driveway. Meanwhile, Eddie drove home, foot a little heavy on the gas pedal as he itched to get back to his own room.

He didn’t see you again for two weeks. He knew the Hendersons’ phone number, but there was no way he could ask for you if Dustin or your mom picked up. So he waited, very impatiently mind you, and hoped he hadn’t ruined things by going so far with you so fast.

When he did finally see you, it was at Hawkins High School. You’d come to pick Dustin up from that week’s Hellfire club meeting. You knocked on the door before entering, knowing that– despite the session being scheduled to end ten minutes ago– they often ran over their allotted time. Sure enough, you heard Eddie’s booming voice as you cracked open the door and slipped inside.

“And as the chimera flew closer–” When he noticed you he immediately straightened from his position looming over the table, clearing his throat and clasping his hands together behind his back. He didn’t want to scare you off with all this yet. “Okay gentlemen, that’s all for today.” The collective groan they let out had you feeling a bit guilty, they’d obviously been enjoying themselves, and now you were being the annoying big sister; you should’ve just waited in the car. But Eddie was quick to speak again. “Oh, cut the moaning. We’re almost fifteen minutes over and you all need more time to prepare for battle anyway. Amateurs.”

As the others all packed up their things, he approached you and you greeted him with a smile. “Sorry for interrupting, seemed pretty intense, I hope it wasn’t too important.”

“No, no, it’s good you came in. We would’ve been all caught up until someone else came in to stop us in a much less forgiving manner.” You both laughed and it went quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat again. “So uh, I’ve been hoping I’d see you around.”

“Yeah, me too… Smoking alone isn’t as fun anymore.”

His lips quirked up into a smirk and he nodded playfully. “Yeah, ‘ve been thinking the same. You should start buying from me, you know. I’ll give you a discount.”

“Oh, so I have to pay you to smoke with you again? You know, we used my shit last time,” You teased.

“You’ll never pay for anything you smoke when you’re with me, sweetheart. I’m a gentleman after all. Here, hang on.” He dashed back to the table, hunching over to write something down before tearing off the small scrap of paper and coming back to you. “Now you can get a hold ‘a me, come smoke all my weed anytime.”

“Oh, I’ll be taking you up on that.”

Your comfortable conversation was interrupted when Dustin shouted your name. “What’re you doing? Let’s go!”

“I’ll see you around, Munson.”

“Sure thing, Henderson.”

As you drove Dustin home, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a bad idea to get involved with Eddie. He was one of Dustin’s best friends now, a mentor for him, one of the only male role models he’s had aside from Steve since he lost his father. The last thing you wanted was to make Dustin feel like you were taking that away from him. God forbid something should happen between you and Eddie and he doesn’t feel comfortable coming around anymore. You couldn’t do that to him.

Still, you found yourself hunkered over the phone in the living room that night. You tried to hold out, you really did, but you only managed to hold yourself back until almost midnight after your family had gone to bed. Coiling the cord around your finger, you waited impatiently as the phone rang three times.

When he finally picked up, you could hear the smirk in his tone. “Hi, sweet thing. Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Well, I figured I was running low on bud anyway,” You drawled quietly.

“You’re awful quiet,” He teased. “Don’t want Mommy to catch you up on the phone so late?”

“Fuck off,” You scoffed playfully. “If you’re having so much trouble hearing me over the phone, why don’t you come over?”

“Oh, so she minds a phone call, but it’s okay if we have a sleepover?” He snorted.

“No, but if you’re quiet you can sneak in and back out before she wakes up to get ready for work. I’ve got twenty bucks calling your name,” You cooed enticingly.

“Seriously?”

"Come on, Munson, you've never climbed through a girl's window before? I'm disappointed."

He simply replied, "I'll be there in fifteen, make sure it's unlocked."

part two | finale | tmic masterlist

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morganbritton132 · 2 years ago

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The kids have a running series across all their Tiktok accounts called “Eddie Munson Doing His Best To Get Divorced.” It includes:

Part 3: Mike’s filming. Steve, halfway through putting together a bookshelf, asks Eddie for some help. Eddie says, “Stevie, I’m gay. The internet says I’m allowed to be useless.” Steve is just ????

Part 4: Filmed by El. Eddie hugs Steve from behind and then bites him. She captioned it: Cute!

Part 6: a video filmed by Will of Eddie returning home after taking Steve’s service dog Ozzy to the groomers. Ozzy is pink now. Eddie’s got a smile a mile wide and Steve is just like, “Babe, why?”

Part: 8: a video by Lucas of Eddie changing out the letters on the letter board in the kitchen that used to have a quote about teaching from when Steve did online classes but now says LET’S HAVE SEX.

Part 8.5: a video by Max of Steve noticing what the letter board says fifteen minutes into a zoom study session with his sixth period algebra class four months after Eddie changed it.

Part 13: Dustin is zooming in and out on Steve’s face as he insist that he is not falling asleep. It’s a losing battle because Steve is already laying down on the couch. He shifts the camera up when he sees Eddie so you can see the thought forming in Eddie’s mind right before he throws himself over the back of the couch and directly onto Steve. It obviously startled Steve and wakes him up, but Eddie says as if he did not just scare the life out of him, very casually, “Let’s cuddle, babe.”

Eddie, while Steve is still trying to process what the hell even happened, “You’re watching Lord of the Rings? Without me, Henderson?”

Part 24: Jimmy Fallon asking how Eddie is friends with well-respected, hard hitting journalist Nancy Wheeler and Eddie saying that they actually have a lot in common. His husband has been inside both of them. Erica films her tv. The caption says ‘Boy, he’s going to kill you.’

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#Eddie is a menace and Steve is constantly baffled by him but that’s all apart of his charm #Steve loves it #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #steddie #Eddie Munson Tiktok Saga

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missclarasoufflegirl · 2 years ago

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Steve who so badly wants his little girl to play sports, but she's completely uninterested in it. But one day he and Eddie pick her up from grandpa Wayne's and she's wearing a droopy pink tutu, but has never looked happier, so they sign her up for classes.

It starts with ballet ("It's the foundation of all dance Steve, it's necessary for her development as a dancer" Dustin tells them), but their little girl heard the noisy ringing of tap shoes one day, and quickly added that to her repertoire.

Saturday mornings were now spent at the studio with the other dance moms. Steve was the star of the waiting room ("She's so lucky to have a dad that's interested in her dancing", "He's perfected the ballet bun, her hair is always perfect", "his wife is so lucky"), so it shocked all the moms when Eddie waltzed in one day with a screwdriver to tighten a loose tap screw, kissed Steve on the cheek, then stopped to watch the class. The moms were hesitant at first, but Eddie became part of their group soon enough.

Eddie, ever the crafty one, was a master with fabric glue. He became the go-to for costume needs, stoning leotards, sewing ribbons, painting shoes. Their little girl was a natural, and if didn't take them long to step into a routine to support their little dancer.

The boys could drop their little girl off backstage, but dads weren't allowed in the dressing rooms at the theater, so Steve and Eddie enlisted the help of Nancy to make sure she was in costume for her call time. (Nancy helped fix her makeup too because unfortunately, her dads had quite the heavy hand).

Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly), Eddie was the more competitive of the two. He gripped Steve's hand as soon as her number was called, lips pursed as he nodded along with all her cues. He whispered a small "yes!" as she landed her pirouette, and a "that's my girl" when all the sounds of her four-count pickup came out clearly. Steve, on the other hand, was an emotional wreck. She could have gone out there and done the chicken dance and Steve would have thought it was the greatest thing in the world. When the routine was done, both of them stood and cheered, clapping Wayne on the back knowing they wouldn't be there without him.

Their little girl found them after the show, holding a bouquet of roses nearly as big as she was. Eddie picked her up and Steve took the flowers from her, and she smiled at both of them with a big toothy grin, glitter dusting Eddie's leather jacket. "Hey Daddy, I was wonderful!"

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie dads #dad!steve harrington #dad!eddie munson #this is so stupid #i just have a lot od feelings about dance moms steddie

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wroteclassicaly · 3 years ago

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She’s Trouble

(Eddie Munson x Female Reader)

Summary: Tired of trailing behind, feeling like you don’t matter much, you decide that 86’ isn’t only going to be your bestfriend’s year.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Word count: 16,185

Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of drug usage, blood, NSFW, smut, drinking, Eddie is angry and sad in this, masturbation, slight voyeurism, breeding kink, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, angry sex, creampie, angst, fighting, rough sex, Dom!Eddie, and MORE!

A/N: I started writing this based off the scene of Eddie smirking at the cheerleaders he lets by after his cafeteria speech. And, well… it’s spawned itself a new life and turned into a whole lot more than I planned. But so is the life of an author, am I right? ;) Eddie is a dick in this, Reader is a lot more vocal than I’ve written before. I wanted to do something a bit different and I hope this accomplishes my mission?

I wanna thank @littledemondani for helping me out of my brain fart on which direction to take this! Also, do check out her masterlist, which is pinned at the top of her blog (it won’t let me link it here). She’s an incredible author and a fellow Eddie Munson slut, and one of my longtime best-friends! ♥️

Side note: I’ve also shifted a few things in the timeline of the show, for obvious reasons. The whole Eddie/Chrissy thing doesn’t happen on the same night as in the series. Chrissy and the reader have a good interaction and Eddie is a dickhead, but his reasoning will be explained. Also, while the reader is wearing a bustier top, this is an all inclusive fic, where the reader can be anything you imagine! I believe anyone can wear anything that they choose to—regardless of their size, so don’t let that bit of the story deter your perception, as I’ve left it open-ended! ;)

Enjoy! I’ve got a lot coming up soon! Part twos of multiple fics, prompts, plus other goodies! <3 - Kristen

~*~

You watch the way that he tries to be cute and coy towards them, attempts to impress with a dramatic wave through of his hand. Short skirts, tight little tops, bouncing ponytails, and a shitload of generic gossip on their painted lips—they pass by, everything included but those damned pom poms. Apparently they are giddy at his little show of calling out every group but your own in the cafeteria. Your eyes roll so hard that you feel a protesting sting, ignoring it to stab your fork into whatever creation is wiggling on your lunch tray. All the guys—freshman to seniors, and you—the only girl since founding, and Hellfire Club’s treasurer/manager to Corroded Coffin—make up the outsider table.

This year, however, you’ve felt so fucking off base with this group and their antics that you’re getting exhausted pretending to care about their shit when they don’t respect you or yours. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike are always the sweetest to you, even with Lucas joining a sport, he’s still quick to always give you a smile and a nod whenever you pass him in the halls. They’re young, unlike Eddie and the older guys. You’re finally a senior this year, but still behind your bestfriend by a year in age. All this used to be okay, Eddie multiplying how much he repeats the grade, you trailing behind him like a lost puppy without any brain of her own, but now—it’s unbearably smothering.

And thus, it’s been building. You’re over bringing chips that are from your personal stash and using your gas to go buy smokes with your small work paycheck, or clean equipment for Eddie’s band, or stay up all night just to design campaign posters for Eddie, only for him to be so fucking stoned that he doesn’t even appreciate it, nor remember it.

“Fucking fake losers,” Jeff mutters.

“So fake,” Gareth agrees, both looking towards Eddie as he settles himself back down, wiggling his brows at you.

It’s an unsettling pressure that boils inside you, crackling, and as soon as you look into your best-friend’s brown doe eyes—it all comes apart. “You wanna talk about fake?” Your chest pumps a rush of adrenaline, helping careen the words off your tongue before you can stop them. Everyone’s attention snaps quicker than you’re prepared for, eyes wide and shocked. Sure, you’re vocal and sassy, but never outwardly angry. “The fact that all of you will condemn the basketball players, but would give up any of your seats at our table for one of the bitches in a skirt that they chase, if they popped their gum or batted an eyelash. You’d all be a bunch of drooling, little horndogs.” You can feel your heart racing with each pronunciation of a word, rising from your seat, knuckles white from gripping the edges of your yellow tray so hard.

You hear Dustin whisper a ‘whoa’, but your vocal vomit doesn’t stop.

“Frankly? I’m fucking sick of all this.” You pick the tray up and slam it down for good measure, unwrapping your messenger bag from around your seat, and you leave the table of gaping young men behind you, not even indulging yourself in Eddie’s bugged out, concerned stare.

You don’t even have time to throw your bag across your chest, when Jason Carver shouts out from behind you, “Damn, look at Munson’s slut go!”

It seems your group aren’t the only ones taking an interest in your outburst. Your breath is engorged in jagged pants of pitiful air, a fire coursing through you faster than you can handle, your skin singing, prickling with goosebumps. Your cheeks redden in humiliation, your feet swiveling and carrying you, fast and quick to their table, you throw your bag off, body like some damned slow motion track. Everyone notices Eddie’s antics, but you’ve never garnered any attention. It’s a surreal high.

Your combat boots click across the cement flooring, your hair like a dead weight across your back. Carver and his entire group are expectant, chairs scraping across to get out of your way. It’s all such a blur that you don’t even know your fist has collided with Jason’s face until you feel the pressure bite into your knuckles, a crunch beneath your force. He shrieks, his friends jumping to his aid, your stance shifting, ready to take anyone on. Your ears are bubbling with a murky static, applause in some direction, shouts in others.

Your name is being shouted from two different directions, the one you see stomping angrily towards you belonging to principal Higgins. He’s calling for help, shoving his finger in your face, motioning to your shirt. “This Hellfire Club does nothing but cause trouble!”

You snort, completely coming off your hinges, shaking the ends of your shirt, before stepping back and flinging it over your head, leaving you clad in your jeans and a leather bustier top no one could ever picture you owning. You’ve always kept your shit to a minimum to draw less attention, but you liked the support it provided your breasts with. You spin around, hands in the air, using the shirt as a lasso, tossing it at your old table. You begin to giggle, honestly wondering if you should visit the school nurse, but uncaring. Higgins is literally sputtering, making you snort, waving a hand. “I’m a slut, I’m trouble. Anyone have anything else to add? No? Yes?”

You bend back over to snatch your nap sack up, motioning to Higgins. “Lead the way to your office, Sir! Please fucking do.”

The pep in your step as your principal is angrily leading you from the masses is such a euphoric feeling, you’re sure you’ll never feel again in your life. You can taste the drama on your tongue’s tip. You don’t even spare your friends a glance, not wanting Eddie to have a morsel of satisfaction. This is your moment. Not as Eddie Munson’s best-friend, not as his groupie. As Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.

~*~

Eddie Munson has been clutching your discarded Hellfire shirt, doused in your perfume that is brimming his nostrils full, damn near trembling for the past twenty minutes that finish up lunch. He can’t move, that swelling between his legs keeping him glued to his seat, all the images of your fist soaring into Jason Carver’s face, ripping off your clothing in front of Higgins and the entire damned school. He went from concerned, angry at how you acted, to so fucking turned on that his stomach knotted up, sucking him to where he’s seated, his cock throbbing in his jeans. He’s never seen you like this.

The guys are silent, unsure what to say, how to even go about comprehending the you they just saw, that even Eddie himself has never heard of. He knows one thing for sure—okay��two. He has to find out if you’re okay and what’s going on.

~*~

You roll your eyes at the lovely note, signature of a three day suspension secured by Higgins at the bottom. Crumbling it up, you slide it into your back pocket, rifling through your pin tattered bag for a cigarette. You already know where you’re gonna go, and it sure as hell isn’t home. No one is there and no one is gonna care about your minor indecency. You can forge your mom’s signature, much like you do every good grade you bring home that she’s never around to see, or every comment from a teacher about how your folks are missing out.

It’s quiet at your house, your space. You parents more or less sleep there when they’re not gone on business. Pinching the filter, you cup Eddie’s stolen Zippo, that ashy hiss helping beckon that sweet bitter taste in past your lips. You don’t desire that home front solace right now, craving different scenery.

Maybe I’ll get lost…

You feel like Hawkins is your oyster, and you’re eager to explore on your own terms, by yourself. You’ve got your smokes, your pocket knife, and a pen and paper. That’s enough for you to make a decision.

Skull Rock it is.

~*~

One thing about Indiana is the ever predictable bite of hot weather that March brings. Spring is automatically Summer in the Midwest, and this is no different. Your leather top had stuck to your skin in an uncomfortable crunching press, making you eventually discard it, leaving you topless, your only accessories a chain with your birthstone pendant and a thicker silver chain, with a cheesy little guitar charm (a present from Eddie) nestled between your breasts. Your form is shaped against the rock behind your bare shoulder blades, a cool sensation that has you tilting your head back, stretching your neck, treetops breezing above you—tall and luscious. You smile softly, undoing the flap on your bag and seeking out your Walkman and sunglasses.

In moments your eyelids are fluttering closed, shielded from sun rays, your Walkman clicking in place, readying Heart’s Barracuda to nick your ears, coasting in welcomed caresses. It’s not thick heavy metal, but it’s you. And in the serenity of these woods, another cigarette you allow yourself—you begin to drift off in a galactic solitude that is solely your own. You’d learnt how to count beats, read sheet music, even sing a few notes from Eddie, so getting into your song’s groove isn’t hard for you, your fingers wrapping around your chain, tapping underneath the swell of your breast along with the chorus. You’re off the precipice and gone, demolished to the point you don’t hear the familiar footsteps, the sound of your name, or leaves and dirt crunching beneath white Reeboks, nor do you hear a throat-deep groan at his discovery.

~*~

Eddie and you always share this in synch kinda shit, which creeps a lot of people in your circle out. Eddie, however, welcomes it today. When he couldn’t find you after abandoning his lunch, spent what was left of the day attempting, only for Henderson to tell him he’d heard you’d been suspended for a few days—he made it his personal goal to find you. Your parents are gone so he knows the times you do and don’t like to be at home by yourself. And with the way you lashed out at everyone, you won’t go anywhere he has easy access to.

That leaves one place. Skull Rock.

~*~

The drive feels shorter to Eddie this time, but the walk longer. He has to shed himself of his denim and leather, tossing it over his shoulder and clambering up the path towards finding you, keeping your club tee in his back pocket. The more he walks, the more he wishes he brought a drink or his smokes, which remain on his dash. If he’s wrong and you’re not here, he isn’t sure if this is reality anymore. This day has been one big mindfuck.

Thankfully, as he hears a loud tone droning over the clearing, a soft hum, his heart patters in his chest, nostrils inhaling sharply. He rounds the corner’s pathway, already calling your name, his eyes widening, jaw unhinged, fists clenching at his sides. You’re reclining against the boulder’s curve, black shades perched over your eyes, hair draped across your neck, your boot clad ankle crossed over the other, a cigarette perched into your puckering pair of lips, your layered chains swaying, slumbering against your skin, and fuck—your tits, Eddie winces, gripping himself to adjust—frozen.

He can’t not notice how your nipples are reacting to the air. He can’t not detail your shape, how your waist is formed, zeroing in on the baby bat you’d gotten to match his larger ones, inked into your ribcage, and he certainly isn’t forgetting your jeans that are settled over your hips. His eyes glaze over, heat prodding his flesh, shrouding him a veil of desire and raw ache. You don’t notice him, calls of your name falling on mainstream rock’s ears. He doesn’t think approaching you is smart, like a cat and mouse, your behavior for once—unpredictable.

Has Eddie just not been paying attention to you that much lately?

Suddenly, when he’s debating a cowardly retreat, baiting his internal monologue for an excuse, your audible gasp is heard, his name crushed between your gritted teeth.

Fuck.

~*~

In all of his glory—stands your best-friend. He’s balling and un-balling his fists, eyes darting rapidly, tongue sucking against his teeth, feet ready to carry him far away. And the more he avoids your stare, the angrier you get. So what, you’re not good enough to look at because your breasts are out? Modesty to a back burner, you take your crossed arms off your chest, scraping your smoke out on the rock, pushing your glasses into a perch upon your head, body facing Eddie as you stand.

I dare you.

Your eyes complicate a challenge—craving him in your proximity, and hating his grunge blanketed sight. Eddie’s neck is a really pretty thing when he tenses, his jugular agitated against a harsh gulp of air. He answers you by meeting you in the clearing, palms sweaty, scrubbing over his back pockets. It’s a cool damned drink of water, as if you’ve been without, making thee Eddie Munson squirm. But he’s still your best-friend, and you are half naked.

Covering yourself back up so he will look you in the eye, you tuck your arms into a push beneath your sternum, forearms shielding your nipples. It’ll have to do.

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing here?” You snap before he can voice a concern or a question.

Tethered to deep breathing techniques, Eddie is insulted, and is biting back in his acidic response. “After your own personal talent show antics at school, I was worried about you. Excuse-the-fuck-outta-me, Y/N.”

A bitter laugh comes from you. “Oh, you’re focused enough on my shit to actually be worried about me? How kind of you, Edward Munson.”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be worried about you?” Eddie is raising his voice, sizzling in a cautious rage. He’s usually happy-go-lucky with you, but you’re pushing these fucking buttons he isn’t aware he’s been hiding.

“You really need a list of reasons? Wait,” you say, moving to circle him, pinching your thumb between your teeth, “you’re probably, completely oblivious, because I’m just Y/N. I’m not your club, not your band, not one of your groupies that flounce around for an ounce from you, then leave your ass for their jock boyfriends.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie raises a hand, rings clattering together. “When the fuck did all this start, Y/N?”

Your arms fall back at your sides with a loud ‘thump’. The heating has settled, your high wearing off, truth remaining as to why you’ve been upset in the first place. A caverning hurt carves its place into your chest, igniting an anguish that drowns you. You’re defeated. “It started when my best-friend forgot that I’m my own person and not his servant. Or maybe it began when my person was so stoned that he barely acknowledged a test I fucking flunked to stay up and make his campaign posters—which, may I add—he also gave zero fucks about-“

“So all this is because I didn’t kiss the very ground you walk on for some posters that you practically begged me to make, and wow—your A+ average went to an A. Curse me into the deepest depths of hell, please.” His bracelet slides down his wrist as he palms his heart.

Maybe you’re not the only one who is changing. Eddie hasn’t ever disregarded you in such a crude manner. Your tongue is practically salivating in need to layer on biting and cruel words, things you won’t be able to come back from. You remain silent, mulling over what to say, glaring, docked, stinging prickles of tears. It’s an elating elevation when the words do come. “I’m your best-friend, Eddie. Not your little groupie. I’m tired of you preaching about conformity, when all I do is conform to you. You don’t ever let me pick music, you always take for granted I’ll give you and the guys rides when your van isn’t working, despite if I might have something to do that doesn’t involve an all male ensemble. I spend my money to buy you cigarettes and snacks for the meetings. I manage gigs, I clean your band’s equipment.”

Eddie sniffs, looking pointedly at you, doe eyes dark and growing increasingly fed up. “Didn’t know you were keeping a tally, Y/N.”

“That’s… That’s all you’re taking from everything I just said to you, Eddie?” You can’t keep that hurt out of your tone this time.

Eddie shrugs, crossing his arms, coldly spitting out, “Seems to me like you’re sick of me. And that’s not my problem, that’s yours.”

Your head is swimming in turmoil, all your acting out and emotions swirling into a mindfuck. He doesn’t care. You’re standing here finally pouring your entire soul out in heaps and your person is pouring gasoline on the pieces, dangling a match.

“I’ve never kept a tally, Eddie. I do these things because they make you happy, and that makes me happy, but it fucking sucks when you don’t appreciate them or care about anything in my life, either.”

“That’s what you really think, Y/N?” There’s a flatline in how he’s speaking to you.

“No,” you murmur, “it’s what I know.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches, teeth grinding. He kicks at the ground with the toe of his shoe, brows raising. “Breaking Jason Carver’s nose and my cold, dead heart.” He splays a hand across his chest. Those rings, which are always a comfort to you, reflecting off the sunlight, dripping in judgement.

Your trembling wavers, crackling sentence structure falling apart. “Eddie. Don’t.”

“No. Fuck you, Y/N. Seriously, fuck you!” He shouts, snapping a finger in your direction.

Your hands rub up and down your goosebump soaked skin, finalizing what you need to do. Heaving in a deep breath, a sentence escapes your lips. And you pray, pray Eddie will heed this warning and value what you have enough to understand, to work it out. “Maybe it’s time to fess up to the fact that 86’ needs to be a bigger year for us both.”

Mind reader. A power you’ve never wanted more than in this moment as you claw at the cusp of your best-friend’s reaction. Outwardly, Eddie shifts, Adam’s apple bobbing, thumb swiping underneath his nose. Your mouth waters, throat reflexes threatening a fountain of vomit. And Eddie takes your warning, slaying through it, every bit of ground beneath your boots threatening to cave in.

“You’re right. Hell, Carver is right. You do act like my slut. And you have every right to change it, because it’s only holding us both back. And it probably has been for a long time.”

Kicking you would’ve hurt less. You’re unable to see Eddie’s form longer, muddled to a watery silhouette, your brave bravado dissipating. You won’t beg him. You’re nothing to him anymore, he’s just confirmed. You try not to think about the first time he taught you how to dance before your first snowball, or how you both snuck Jim Hopper’s cigarettes when you’d get in trouble at school and be sent to see him for minor misdemeanors, or Eddie’s pride when he managed to get you on stage to sing one song with the band, rubbing circles on your back the whole time you both sang to a trio of drunks, or splitting beers on his van’s roof and nearly breaking limbs when it started raining and you had to climb down, how he taught you to drive in the fancy neighborhood and you knocked over the mayor’s mailbox, when you watched him buy his ‘sweetheart’, tears in his eyes at a possession so gorgeous and all his own, his hands gentle as they held you the nights you cried from one stupid thing that felt massive to you, when he was your person and you were his.

Your wet, quivering breaths are what you hear. Birds chirping, wind rustling, even Eddie’s heavy breathing drowned out. It takes what feels like eternity, before Eddie is slashing the quiet, guarded and stoic. “You need to put a fucking shirt on.”

Your jeans are covered in tear drops from a bowed head, fingers shaking hard enough that your knuckles roll into a crack at the motions. You wipe your tears in time to see Eddie hold out your Hellfire shirt—second edition—his being the first. His reverie breaks briefly, and you think… maybe. It’s gone in those brown eyes that you can no longer read or recognize. Filled with loathing and disgust at you, his last words imprinting on your psyche, a physical recoil.

“On second thought. You won’t be needing this anymore.” Eddie makes his way around you and finds his lighter atop your bag, flicking a flame to life and nudging it at the end of your shirt. It catches quick, burns fast, like every fiber of friendship with Eddie Munson.

Eddie tosses the tattered, charred remains to the forrest floor, pocketing his lighter, walking away from you and out of your life.

~*~

He can’t stay any longer and watch you fall apart, not when he’s running away from his cowardice. And he does, run. He moves and clambers, stumbles until he’s from you and the cries that he hears pour off your lips. His chest is thumping sporadically, pulse in his blurry vision. His five fingers catch a tree, slamming, splintering, a sob breaking free of his tear soaked lips.

Eddie Munson forces himself to remember how unsure you looked in your dress when he held you around your waist, never feeling more himself in his entire life than he did with you— at thirteen—during some cheesy school dance, how you entertained his tunes so he could teach you the counting method he uses for his music to move your feet to the beat, all your encouragement every time he hit a new note, or your midnight phone calls to ask what he’d like on his posters, your body trusting him to keep you safe on those nights when everything became too much for you in your life, but you had tried to hide it, or when you both snuck in to see Carrie when you were pre-teens and you couldn’t sleep without him, so he made a makeshift mattress next to your bed for a month, about that time you were so tired from an all nighter that he had walked into his room and found you curled up in his bed, using his vest as a makeshift pillow, your nagging him to study more, because he’s always capable of anything he sets his mind to, and those cookies—the only thing you can bake without having to call for Hawkins fire department—a container you’d brought for him and his Uncle, still sitting on his kitchen counter.

He was your person and you were his. And now? You’re gone. Eddie runs away. He keeps running, leaving you to your own miserable anguish, drowning in his own, getting himself in his rust bucket and going back to his trailer to get completely fucked outta his not-so-right mind.

~*~

By the time your suspension is over and you can no longer barricade yourself into your room and finish off another bottle from your dad’s liquor cabinet—it’s sheer dread. You’re not only the freak who broke Hawkins Highschool’s Prom King’s nose, but you’re the freak without anyone by your side—a true and thorough outsider. As you stand outside your school, nails pinching into already weakened threads dedicated to your bag’s strap, you’re really regretting those couple of drinks this morning and how you’d poured more vodka into a flask to take your Tylenol with. Hell, it’s not like you can get a fix from the school dealer anymore, is it?

Those damned double doors are louder, a jolt to your already throbbing headache, fluorescent lights sparkling in your retinas through your shades that cover a nursing hangover and distraught, red and puffy eyes from a three day sob fest. Each step your boots make sounds like you’re walking to your death, your outfit—sans any Hellfire related attire—is all yours. Your two chains limited to one, Eddie’s gift waiting in a cardboard box you’d half-assed assembled, and tossed in random shit he’d given you. The deeper you get into every hallway, making simple turns you know like the back of your hand, your nausea grows as to what might be awaiting around each corner. Or who. It’s a short lived relief upon arrival at your locker.

You pinch your shades off, raw eyes protesting the moment fresh tears staple your skin in brushes. In red letters, diagonally capitalized across your door contains what you haven’t wanted to face since it happened.

The freak got dumped

You choke on your salvia, throat wet and enduring a suffocation strong enough to have you gagging on the piece of toast and water you’d forced your famished form to consume this morning. You barely make it into the toilets before double over and expelling everything, diaphragm on fire, bones vibrating through tosses. Hair dangling in your face, plastered to your mouth, you sniffle and tremble, vision blurring. You ponder getting yourself fucking expelled, but you made this whole ordeal about it being your year. If you retreat now, what will that do? Mustering all your strength, your courage, you flush your bile, clean off your mouth and face, pop a mint, take a swig out of your flask, and make your way to your first class.

~*~

By the ever popular lunch time, you have managed to clean your locker and pinpoint the culprit (an ashamed that a girl broke his nose, Jason Carver), but neither of you speak on it. You keep your head down, you focus on your school work, you take your Tylenol, and you sip on your vodka. Enough to keep an edge off, but not enough to send you down a despairing hole filled with regret and torment. You know you’re being stared at as soon as you hit the line to get your tray. It’s fake smiles and refusal to acknowledge it that gets you in search of an aisle, and hopefully out of sight. You aren’t so lucky…

“Hey, Y/N! Over here!” You hear an all too cheery voice belonging to Dustin Henderson. It halts you in your tracks, a wince causing a physical recoil.

It’s not his fault you and Eddie no longer have anything resembling a relationship, and he apparently has not told them, and they’ve not seen Jason Carver’s masterpiece.

Good.

What isn’t good is that Eddie is very much at your old table and you know it’s unavoidable. You wished you had borrowed some concealer for your under eyes, but it’s too late. There’s a grand staircase cloaked in invisibility beneath your feet, your stomach knotting in crushing vices, your cheeks stained with red. You walk to your former friend group, trying like hell not to side eye Eddie Munson. Keeping a steady focal point without blinking against your scratchy lower lids is damn near impossible. And guys are going to be guys—much to your chagrin. Gareth is drawing further attention where nothing needs to be, popping off with a, “Damn, Y/N lookin’ like she went on a bender.”

“A week long bender,” Jeff chimes in.

Biting the inside of your cheek between your teeth, you shrug a shoulder. Better them having knowledge of your binge drinking celebration than knowing about how messed up you are.

Don’t look at Eddie. Is your mantra for today.

He, on the other two hands, is not prioritizing that same aspect.

“So what if I did? I know of about ten girls who can drink your asses under the table, myself included.” You smirk, gripping your tray’s edge.

“Been holding back on us?” Gareth is grinning from ear to ear. It eases your shouldered weight tremendously, breaking tension in your table’s ranks.

“You gonna have a seat or what?” Mike Wheeler interrupts, his hands flipping towards a desired target, one that you wish you could keep pretending you never knew.

Fuck it.

You really crave for some divine intervention to help you, because meeting those chocolate brown eyes that are distraught, angry, and rimmed red—your heart constricts to painful blows, windpipes crushed beyond speaking capabilities. Eddie’s been somewhere off planet earth with that kinda high, you remember seeing his demeanor that way only a handful of times, including this one. Maybe he does care? No, doesn’t matter, don’t go there. It’s over and done.

Still, that idiotic, massively moronic part that Eddie owns of you—it’s billowing hope. Eddie Munson dashes it in seconds flat.

“No.”

You glance away, jaw twitching to control an automatic quiver. Dustin is laughing it off as a joke, someone else asking why. Eddie reclines his legs in your empty chair, loud enough to get your attention back. He wants me to see.

“No traitors.” It’s a simplistic answer, aggressive, no room to argue.

Ever-the-curious-freshmen, Dustin and Mike peg their leader for questions. You halt it, tone breaking apart, fingers tucking into your shirtsleeve as you balance your lunch on one hand and wipe across raw flesh to clean fresh tears from your eyeline. That’s when Eddie does look away.

Coward.

“It’s okay, guys.” Is what you say.

“What’s going on?” Gareth asks.

“I won’t be around meetings or practices anymore, but I’m still here if anyone needs anything, okay? You know where my locker is, and where I live.” You pat yourself on the back for that robotic but truthful statement.

“Unless you’re sick of everyone else too…” His deep voice rumbles.

Like a deer in headlights— you’re frozen, a blinding rage of hurt and red hot anger pouring over you in a storm. You explode. Picking up the first thing in your sight, which happens to be on your plate—a glob of some chocolate goop (possibly a brownie)—it’s slung directly at your former best-friend’s crisp white Hellfire shirt. Your second cafeteria incident that, yet again, everyone notices. Eddie yelps, shouting out your name in brisk spits.

You further it, abandoning your food in a repeat of days ago, floating to his side and shoving him back two steps. Eddie stops his rapid shirt swipes and immediately presses his form into yours, chests smashed, food squishing through your top. His hair is frazzled from the humidity, his toffee colored irises slowly polishing into a thick black gloss of dilated pupils. He sucks his tongue against his teeth, swaying into you, not touching you with those hands, an air about him that is beginning to swarm your initial reaction and bend it over, fucking it into the next decade. He’s taller than you remember, but you latch onto your own, tasting that cigarette soaked breath, lips hovering over his, hot tears matting your lashes.

Whether it’s regarding his inability to respond to your reasoning for this whole situation, his lack of expression, your self-disappointment for something roused inside you at his huffing proximity, you crown him with a title off a jagged voice box, damp in her sorrows, just as Dustin steps between you two, gently prying. “You’re a fucking coward, Eddie Munson.”

Teachers are starting to flock in, and you shake your head, hand over your eyes briefly, before sprinting in strides from the room in search of a place to collapse.

~*~

If you had told yourself at the beginning of the school year that you’d be in a camaraderie with the girl’s bathroom—you would have laughed. And if your mind had convinced you otherwise, you’d have expected Eddie to be right beside you, arm around your shoulders, sharing his lunch, making stupid jokes, coming up with lame ideas to make you feel better, but in that endearing Eddie Munson kinda way. You let out a soft cry, giving up on that stinging beneath your lids. You’re a hot mess and the whole building probably knows how alone you really are now. When the outcasts cast you out, where else can you go?

Clenching onto the sides of the ceramic sink, bag slipping off your shoulder and onto the floor, you keep your head bowed between your shoulder blades, not noticing someone come in and approach you, a gentle set of fingers laying upon your shoulder. Through foggy vision you can make out the green colors of her uniform and her perfectly straight ponytail, her face seemingly concerned. Your laugh is exhaustion on steroids, expression bombarded with emotion. “Okay, what the fuck is next? A girl craves some independence and the whole school turns against her. Let me guess, your boyfriend sent you to get even? Why don’t I make it easy for you and you can call your friends in here, and… and—“

Great.

Your lungs start to burn, your ribcage pounding with an erratic heartbeat, throat feeling like it’s been dusted with a thick blanket of ash. You’re panicking in front of Chrissy Cunningham. That alone has you feeling more pathetic than ever before in your life, and it worsens your heaving sobs—broken and unguarded. Chrissy’s eyes are drinking you in, irises glossing over with tears of her own. She grasps your other shoulder and squeezes, not releasing her hold on you, her soft voice strong when she speaks, but gentle enough between the expanse of your shared airspace.

“One, two, three, four. Okay, now deep breath in, and release it for me, Y/N.” She’s actually calming you, keeping you steady on your feet, which feel as if they’re sinking into the flooring below like led weights.

“Chrissy…” You aren’t sure how to articulate, still alarmed and attempting to breathe with her.

“I’m right here. Just keep breathing and counting with me.” And you do. And that’s when it hits you.

She has experience with this mind numbing panic too. That otherworldly anxiety. You feel a connective pull towards the cheerleader—seeing—not this persona you’d imagined, but her calming features, her easy going manner towards you, how she lets you find your lifeline, but also lends you her own in case you need it. When your breathing slows, she gives you a look, a silent communication of question. You may be able to breathe a little easier now, but it doesn’t stop the weight of your situation from crashing down and demolishing what’s left of you.

“Can I… I’m gonna hug you, is that okay?” At this point, if she’s going to put a sign on your back you don’t care. You need the human connection, the comfort. You agree and your schoolmate takes you into a light grip, but folds her arms around you and lets you bury your cheek against her perfumed sweater.

You both stand in the embrace, no trace of awkwardness, a sense of kinship and knowing. It’s when you pull back that hint of a questionable concern with her, wiping your sore eyes with a hiss. She notices.

“Are you here because of Jason? I just need to know.”

“Jason was a dick, Y/N.” Her language shocks you, having only heard her be proper before.

You laugh, your first genuine giggle in days. It’s contagious, as she joins in, hip jutting against the sink. “No, I’m here on my own terms. I promise. I saw what happened with your friends…”

“Yeah, I can imagine how everyone must be amused right now.” You bite your lip, facing away.

Chrissy gives you a saddened smile, but attempts to reassure. “I know this is gonna sound incredibly lame coming from me, but you’re stronger than all this, Y/N. The way you’ve stood up for yourself these past several days… I admire it.”

You frown deeply, wondering if this is a trick, because no way is Chrissy Cunningham admiring someone like you.

“You admire a loser that can’t even manage her own newfound independence?”

“No,” she says with a pause, looking down at her French tip manicure, before facing your curious gaze once more. “I admire your ability to stand up for yourself, despite what everyone is saying or doing to you. It’s a good quality to have, one that many of us are afraid of, you know?”

There’s this hollow pain in her eyes and your continued recognition has you pulling her in for another hug—this time for her benefit, rather than yours.

“Looks like we’ve fallen into the cliché trap, Cunningham.” You grin, pulling back.

Chrissy tilts her head, curious. “What do you mean?”

“A freak and a cheerleader thinking the same as what their peers think, and getting each other totally wrong.”

Her sweet eyes light up, her head nodding. “That’s exactly it.”

You share a knowing smile, a newfound bond forming. Chrissy situates her small shoulder bag, pulling out a compact and tugging you by your sleeve. “C’mhere. Let me fix that.”

She takes a gentle hand, not rushing as she speckles your sore under eyes with her own stash of makeup. After she blends it with soft fingertips, she snaps the lid closed and places it back in her bag, turning you to the bathroom mirror, brushing some of your hair through, giving your back a rub. “Is that any better, Y/N?”

Your circles are mostly covered, puffiness disguised enough where you won’t be embarrassed. You look and feel much better, and you’re overwhelmed with gratitude for the blonde at your side. You incline yourself into a swivel, leaning in her direction. “Chrissy Cunningham, I think you’re one of the sweetest people I now kinda, sort of know.”

Her giggle is infectious, and she gives you another squeeze. You drop down to swoop your messenger bag into your arms, grabbing out a your notebook and a pen, scribbling your home phone on it, hesitating, before handing it over. “If you ever need to talk to someone about all the bullshit, whatever it is, consider me your new confidant.”

She holds the simple sheet paper as if it’s another lifeline and you’ve just given her a treasure. Going back into her own bag, she has a cute little pink embroidered stationary paper that she jots her number on, and uses a smiley face to dot the i in Chrissy. Seconds later, her friends and a group of other girls burst into the bathroom, gossip on their lips. You and Chrissy flash each other a secret smile, and you make another hasty retreat.

~*~

Eddie had to hear a bunch of shit from the guys, overly bearing questions sounded off by Henderson and Wheeler. The eventual revealing by a passerby group of cheerleaders about your specially decorated locker, had surprised him too. As if there’s not already a weighted dagger wedged into his ribcage, one interlocking into his heart muscle—he lost control with his bitter mouth again, and it fueled your temper. But deep down, deeper into those subconscious recesses, you both felt that ignition start, a kind of coercing heat that is waging an internal war in Eddie’s head. His sole reason for blocking you out and refusing to talk about anything with you in the woods.

Eddie Munson is in love with you. Eddie Munson needs to fuck you.

It’s something he’s always done—built walls, got high, stayed drunk, coped with humor, hid behind his guitar or his campaigns. And without his right hand woman, he feels naked, too vulnerable to all the bullshit he’s tried to keep out. And your absence has become a set course for his weakening concentration on anything that isn’t you. His ultimate warrior princess is also his Achilles heel. Your feelings in wanting to branch out, they scare Eddie.

His brain is flipping logic into thinking you are seeing what everyone else sees in him: freak, failure, piece of shit, a nobody, a criminal. He pushed you out before he could pull you back in—easy, abrupt. And it’s not just changing him—no—he could smell your vodka soaked breath across the table, see your eyes swollen and glazed—absent. For the first time in years you weren’t wearing your limited edition shirt (thanks to him), and Eddie isn’t sure why he expected you to still have his chain around your neck. It fucking hurts.

As the room slowly falls back into their daily routine, Eddie loses his appetite and leaves his herd behind, urgent to get the fuck outta this building, out of Hawkins. Hell, maybe even the country. Like you, however, Eddie Munson’s retreat isn’t one that is unscathed. In his urgency, he smacks straight into you, stumbling over his own clumsy ass feet, gripping your forearms to keep you both steady. He’s processed your scent before he even takes in your beautiful features.

Fuck…

You look less like you’ve been partying all weekend, but Eddie knows better. Your pupils are dilated to the bright overhead lights of the hallways, making your sclera more visible. It’s bloodshot red, lower lids swollen and tinged a rough crimson beneath the fresh makeup that Eddie now sees. He swallows and looks away, but he doesn’t let you go. His grip isn’t harsh, it’s simply what it’s always been with you two. Easy and sturdy, safe.

You’re the first to downcast your gaze, focusing more on your shoe wear than on Eddie. It kills him. Even through these notions, this fear, whatever anger you’re both harboring, it’s as if this whole damned school and everyone passing you two are mere bodies, Eddie Munson and Y/N Y/L/N floating, tethered. His stomach churns its lunch contents, teeth clenching tightly. You make a brisk dart off, but Eddie attempts to catch you, instead tugging too hard on your shoulder strap, causing your bag to dump and spread out its contents at his sneaker clad feet.

Eddie’s eyes are quick to see it before you realize. Shining underneath hallway lights, scattered amongst notebooks and pens, is a small flask. His brows perch, he crouches first, scooping it away from your jutting hands. Gareth’s words rewind and play on repeat in his head.

“Damn, Y/N lookin’ like she went on a bender.”

The way his heart rate spikes, hostilely spitting that acid all over his lungs, battering his throat muscles with a pummeling storm. He’s already sure what he’ll smell if he presses the lid to his nostrils, but Eddie has to feed his anxious curiosity, unscrewing the cap with nervous hands, sniffing, shrugging off your grabs. It burns his mouth from its strength, his distraction giving you enough leeway to wrap your hands over his fingers and pull. Eddie locks your digits within his own, second thoughts gone. Against everything inside him he is getting angrier by the second, the anger masking itself, easier than being petrified and scared in front of you.

And Eddie is scared. Is he really so fucking stupid to think you weren’t at all affected by any of this?

“What the fuck, Y/N?” Your fingers sliding through his own, flood him, prickling every vein running beneath his skin, cutting off his blood flow—scorching.

~*~

Having Eddie’s hands on you again, his body so close, despite your shame at his discovery, it’s a feeling that comes more natural than breathing. You avoid his question, feeble grasping docked.

“Why do you have a flask full of fucking vodka?”

“Will you keep your voice down!” You hiss the words, finally breaking off him and retrieving the rest of your items on the scuffed up floor, and securing them back into your bag, Eddie holding back your liquor.

“Did you drive to school drinking this crap? Tell me you didn’t, Y/N, cause’ I swear to god—“

You chortle, a humorless boom smacking across your chest.

“Eddie, this faux best-friend act is getting old. Your on and off switch is enough to drive anyone to drastic measures. But don’t flatter yourself into thinking I’d be an idiot and drive drunk. Not even for you.”

His irises that are glossy with concern, they cave to dilating pupils, an animalistic rage priming them. “Oh, you have got to be the most clueless bitch alive, Y/N.” He steps towards you, frame towering slightly. You’re not afraid, never fearing if he’ll do something, because that is not Eddie, no matter what. But, you are very much dripping with rage at his words.

He pockets your flask in his left back pocket, rings clinking against it as he pats it for good measure. You try to dive around him, beneath his arm, but he swoops in on his own, using that strength for his slender frame, literally scooping you into a half bring-away, only discarding you back onto your feet once you’re both outside. You try to shove at him, palms resting on his stained club shirt. The bell has rang to signal your free period, but you don’t give two fucks, giving up and being the one to leave.

“Who’s the coward now, huh? You’re gonna walk away from me when I call you on your shit, Y/N?”

You spin on your heel, dirt and gravel specks crunched beneath your step. “I thought I was a clueless bitch, Eddie? A traitor? Or, your slut.” You scoff, crossing your arms.

Guilt briefly flickers across his features, but he shuts it down tenfold. “Just because we’re fighting doesn’t mean I want you to destroy your fucking liver or your life. Jesus Christ, you really think I’m that big of an asshole?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore!” You fling your hands into the air. “One minute we’re at each other’s throats, the next you’re up my ass. I don’t know what to do here, Eddie.”

“Thought you craved some individuality and independence.” Though there’s meant to be flare behind the words, Eddie’s tone has splintered across each word, voice breaking apart. Your guts sink into your ass, as does a particularly pointed swallow that stabs at your jugular.

“Didn’t say I wanted to be completely independent from my best-friend.” Your own response is gentle, voice soaked with impending emotion.

Fuck. Stupid fucking tears burning again. Not right now.

Eddie’s attention snaps back on you, proximity closing in. His jaw clenches, he moves it from side to side with a closed mouth, sniffing, whistling air through a wet breath. “Feels like you’re leavin’ me and I can’t do anything to stop it…”

It makes sense suddenly. A catapult of truth slamming right into your chest, spreading throughout your body.

He thinks I’m leaving him. That I want to leave him.

As if the last seventy two hours haven’t happened, better yet, as if they haven’t mattered in the grand scheme of things—you’re the one that meets Eddie, reaching to push that curly hair from his eyes, his head downcast and posture sullen. His brown eyes are brimmed with tears that spill over his lash line, a permanent frown creased between his brows, mouth red and spit slick. Those freckles on his nose are suddenly very prominent to you. You’ve never seen Eddie Munson this vulnerable. Your heart shatters, the ache so physically strong that you have to remain close to him to hold on and find that strength again.

How could you have gotten this so monumentally wrong? Maybe if you’d have expressed what you meant more instead of feeding off Eddie’s anger. His communication and yours both need nurturing, but your sudden shift in mood must’ve made him feel like you wanted to abandon him, not just do things for yourself. He may not realize that yet, but you do. And it fucking sucks.

“Eddie. I’m sorry.” It’s all you can say in the seconds that your heart heaves into your throat.

He shakes that shaggy mane. “Don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me, especially you.” He backs away from you and you see his entire expression crumble, tears spilling onto his cheeks.

That pain drowns your throat, seeing him cry because of your lack of explanation and mutual avoidance. You chase after him, running around to block his view, unable to let him go, gripping onto his waist beneath his jacket to keep him planted. Another familiarity. He tenses beneath your touch before relaxing.

“Eddie, will you please listen to me? I think I know what’s going on now.”

“And look who is the one flipping her emotions this time.”

“Because, I… Eddie, I—“

“What lame ass line do you want me to buy, Y/N? You think I’m not used to worthless promises or idiotic reassurances? Yeah, good.” His sentence is fragmented, voice rough and breaking apart on each word. “You know I still care about you, but I don’t need you to lie to me, you don’t owe me a damn thing, I promise you—“

You press a finger to his quivering lips, halting him. There’s a shift in the atmosphere, a pause in the universe, your legs heavy, fingertip stroking along the plumpness of your best-friend’s full, lower lip. Eddie’s chest is moving up and down swiftly, tongue against his teeth, that warning look. You fail to heed it and Eddie’s hands tremble at his sides before he gives up and cups the sides of your face, bringing your foreheads together. His lips part to speak, your finger still on them. “Think we’re in trouble here.”

You can do nothing but nod as his declaring statement, inclining your head further, nose nudging his own. It doesn’t feel as if you’re standing any longer, every mean thing that Eddie has said, every disproportionate attempt of yours to communicate—obliterate, shrouding you both in the process. His breath is hot as his mouth opens and he sucks your finger inside, tongue licking its tip, biting the digit between those milky white teeth. It sends that throbbing nudge, snapping between your thighs, making you arch into your best-friend. You whisper his name and his fingers move along your jaw, across your ear, sliding through your hair and rubbing a pathway to your necks’ nape, sending an army of goosebumps across your flesh, the coolness of his rings stimulating your skin.

“Yeah, you feelin’ it too?” Your lids flutter closed, Eddie using his thumb pad to brush the corners of your lashes, signally for you to open them. “Didn’t say you could stop looking at me, did I, sweetheart?”

You grind against him, unable to stop. Your last several days, everything between you both is on hold, these buried urges able to finally win out. This dominant side of Eddie Munson has you an inward and outwardly quickening pile of mush and hormones, of fucking need. Eddie about loses his cool when you obey him, pupils blown, mouth looking parched and in need of his kisses. He leans, walls starting to slip, resolve crumbling, his pouting mood long gone.

Years of built up tension and confusion, being rightfully by one another’s sides, it all comes apart, the seams, begging to be repaired into what it has to be now.

You envelop his hold on you, hands sliding into slips beneath his jacket, around his waist, tracing over his back, before dipping under his armpits and grasping his shoulders, knuckles pushed down by his leather jacket. One more step and he’ll kiss you. He’s closing a gap, no more breaches, you tapping his shoulders right down to the blades in encouragement. It’s parted mouths hovering over one another, cigarettes and vodka, school lunch and weed, it’s—

“Hey, guys! Higgins is so pissed off right now… After that shit went down in the caf, he’s ready to expel you, Y/N! Pretty fuckin’ sure.” You hear Gareth approach, and just like, Eddie releases you.

You have to steady yourself, want simmering into a slumber in your belly, not yet gone, but still reminding you where it lives. Your glare is directed at your mutual friend. Eddie, feeling as if he’s been doused with ice cold water, and the moment is shattered, you see those walls rebuilding rapidly, and she shrugs off your hand, leaving you and Gareth, and that slickness that has collected in your panties.

~*~

You aren’t sure just exactly what Eddie is feeling, but you’re very aware of what you are. So driving to his place once you know Wayne has left for the night shift—it’s a no brainer. You’d debated bringing Eddie your box of treasures, even your necklace, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Maybe, maybe your best-friend doesn’t want you to…?

Want.

A dynamic shift in your relationship, or what it used to be. You can barely sit still as you wrack your brain through all the levels of hazy blurs. So much has happened in three days, but… today, with Eddie nearly kissing you on the mouth, and you nearly grinding against him in the Hawkins High parking lot—yeah, you two have to talk about all of this. As you squirm in your seat, hands tightening around the wheel, that approaching trailer park sign signals your arrival to his residence. You can’t stop the way your heartbeat feels as if it’s ping ponging around in your throat, or that anxious twitch of your mouth’s corner—forget even attempting to deny your cascading memories of the way his chocolate irises wore an expression unlike anything you’ve ever seen on Eddie Munson.

His trailer comes into your sights, that tickle swooping your guts and holding them hostage. You swallow a thick ball of anxiety, parking next to his van, cutting your engine. The lights are all on and you’ve got no excuse to chicken out. It’s your year too, right? Fucking fuck it.

With your keys clutched in your palm, you make your way to Eddie’s trailer, rasping on his door lightly. You don’t hear his music blaring, so he might be reading, planning a campaign, writing some music he’d mentioned wanting to practice with the guys soon, get a feel for its sound—just last week. You have given about three octaves of knocks and are about to give up, head pressed the door, thinking he was just lost in lust earlier, and maybe you’d fucked up on your end beyond repair. Exhausted by the stampeding pain that brings your insides, you flip the Munson’s spare key off your key ring and unlock the door. A bold move—albeit—a very stupid one.

That familiar scent of Eddie and Wayne’s shared carton of cigarettes hits your nose, along with the leftovers from dinner you see sitting out on the stove. Your cookies, which have been devoured, are missing their note. You panic, briefly thinking Eddie probably trashed it, only to come back from that brink seconds later. It’s not what you’re here for. You glance at the couch and it’s empty, not even Eddie’s usual indent on the cushion is there.

Swinging your keys from your pointer finger, you peek down the small hallway to Eddie’s closed door, light spilling out underneath. He could be sleeping, possibly ignoring you, or he snuck out the back door…

Your feet make an echoing squeak across the trailer’s flooring structure, your fingers twisting the knob and pushing, pausing, deciding to go ahead. If he wants you to leave then you’ll go, if he’s asleep, you’ll go, if he left… You can’t fathom that thought, another ignorance that you partake in. You aren’t sure exactly what you expected, but seeing your best-friend’s tallish frame, with his back facing you, lean leg propped atop his mattress, right arm bent at a very clear angle, his left propped on one of his many amps he’d apparently moved since you’d been here last—is sure as hell NOT it. Eddie’s curly hair ruffles and is jostled across his shoulders with each movement his arm makes, his delicious ass clenching as his body thrusts into his rhythm, the outline of his chain on his perspired neck and damp strands of dark hair—clear. You don’t have to hear the thick, slick and wet stroking to know what he’s doing to himself.

You cross an ankle over the other, squeezing your legs together tightly, trying to bounce on the balls of your heels to get relief. Your fingers white knuckle his banged up door handle, your mouth parting. Whether it’s that bond you two share, or your very visible labored breathing, Eddie’s shoulder blades pinch together, his motions abruptly cut. He turns as if caught doing something he shouldn’t be—definitely something you aren’t prepared to handle. It’s like your mouth is speaking for you, eyes in a trance, enslaved to your lustful abiding.

Fucked out, blown up pupils shave off the color of your irises, your tongue gliding across your teeth, that take a turn to sink into your bottom lip, your toes curling in your shoes. You feel hot, body battered in melting flames that won’t cease, won’t let you get in a normal burst of air flow. You know without having to fix your posture that you’ve made a mess between your legs, panties soaked to hell—completely ruined. You’re honest to fuck not sure if you can make it out of here in an upright position, that painfully strong ache tackling your cunt, breaking off your common sense, leaving you Eddie-drunk. Helping yourself to a swiping look between his legs, he’s still got a ring clad hand wrapped around a very generous girth—shiny—a length that leaves saliva pooling on your tongue’s tip.

His chest is slick with sweat, tattoos glossed beneath, nipples hard from the cool air let into his bedroom. Which, you note, is really fucking hot, and the window is steamed up. Your eyelids flutter in rapid blinks to help you reign yourself in, but all you see are glimpses of Eddie’s fist around himself, that creamy and swollen head, full balls on either side, trimmed curls at the base of his shaft. You want to die. And oh, what a sweet and sinful death that would be.

“Mhm… fuck.” You say through the gap between your panting mouth, words take the opportunity to bust free, joining a high pitched whimper.

Eddie’s chocolate eyes are completely black, leaving no room for anything else but purely raw desire. They widen, a sharp heave in his inhaling chest, abdomen flexing as he holds himself tightly. When you don’t move Eddie takes the initiative, slowly approaching, a softness there beneath the want and knowing. He reaches your space, still giving you enough, but you’re able to still feel that radiating body heat. Neither of you speak, because what is there to say right now?

You’d be a pleading mess of profanities, apologizes, and begging to be taken and used.

Thankfully, Eddie makes another move before you. His spare hand joins your own on the door knob, fingers brushing your knuckles, encouraging, giving you one more opportunity if you’re in distress or uncomfortable. You hook onto his offer and you surprise you both by finding something to say after all, throat parched, yet still damp with wanton rasp. “Start touching yourself again, Eddie. Please?” Fuck, well there’s a beg.

Eddie, assuming you want a show, nerves being dipped in lava and left to forever sizzle and smoke—gives in, both of you shutting his door and closing the two of you off from the outside world. He doesn’t wait for you to back away, pushing his hips to a rise, his cock gliding through his closed fist. You let him lean over you, frame against his door, watching his legs spread to widen his stance, obeying your plea. He almost asks, but assumes it would be too hopeful if you would want to touch yourself in front of him too. You’re out of your mind, common sense obliterated for all eternity, watching your bestfriend practically pin you to the door and fuck himself in front of you.

Those sounds you’ve imagined, pictured, they’re even more pronounced in person. Some low enough that it’s a stifling whimper, a needy sobbing. If you don’t do something about the gnawing throbbing between your thighs, it’ll be total combustion. There’s an empowerment that winds itself around a pulsating set of nerves in one’s decision to masturbate in front of their best-friend. That coolness works itself in your palms, your fingers tossing your keys over and onto Eddie’s dresser, toeing off your shoes, his eyes steamy in their grasp on your every move.

You’d wished you had brought your camera to photograph his expression when you walk over to where he stood in front of his bed, turning to face him, your fingers undoing your jeans and the zipper, a resounding echo in the room, Eddie’s tongue poking out on his upper lip, he holds himself around the base, the urgency to fuck his hand as you take your seat on his mattress and scoot with your back to the wall, hips lifting to help you pull off your jeans and panties. You struggle momentarily, but neither of you are saying a word, gazes steady and unwavering.

Discarding your clothing with a soft thump onto his floor, you’re heartbeat thumps in your throat, ribcage taking an unsteady hammering of its resounding drumming. You heed Eddie’s silent command to continue, agreeing to this turning point between you two. Your thighs fall open and that sticky want strings to your swollen folds, glistening in the creases of your thighs, your cunt sopping wet. You’re dripping, and Eddie isn’t missing it when your arousal finally does drizzle from your neglected pussy and onto his bedsheets. You shift to get comfortable, hand cupping yourself, immediately smothered in your own juices, legs falling into a drop, toes finally able to curl without the barrier of your shoes, bunching Eddie’s sheets.

Eddie watches you from where he can see, still eager to be closer, but unable to stop himself from stroking along his length, teasing that vein that runs alongside his cock. You do it again, rubbing your palm up and down your lips, a crude squelch causing Eddie to almost black out, and you shiver. He releases himself, heavy and hot between slim thighs, and he’s moving. He puffs out a gravelly hiss from pursed lips, stalking towards you and giving a cat like crawl across his own bed, planting himself shoulder to shoulder with you to your left. He must be feeling the overwhelming change that is occurring, as he reaches for your hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

You gravitate towards your hand, fingers slipping through your slickness, your head bowing in embarrassment. Eddie grips your chin and tilts you his way, shaking his head, that same hand dropping to your thigh and lifting to pull up and to the side. And he looks. He fucking memorizes you between your legs with these little mewling coos of appreciation that cement themselves into your subconscious. You do the same, helping yourself to an up close and personal view of what he’s been hiding.

Eddie leans forward and cups the nap of your neck, his other hand taking your wrist and removing it from your self-touches, shushing your protesting whine. He brings it up to his mouth, which is hovering close to yours, your own fingers pressed against your lips, and he licks a straight stripe up your creamy covered palm, humming underneath his breath as he does so. You want to slap him and ride him on every available surface in this trailer. You’re the one to speak, having to.

“Eddie…” It’s a meek little trail-off.

Eddie lets go of your wrist and uses that hand to pull his cock off his stomach, a wet patch left behind in his happy trail. He still doesn’t let your neck go, his fingertips tapping an invisible beat, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He’s laughing, tufts of air settling across your mouth. You narrow your gaze, moving to shut your legs, Eddie’s hand quickly preventing the action, stroking the meat of your inner thigh. “Only fair if I’m exposed, sweetheart.”

“But… you’re laughing.” And it hits you then, why he’s really chuckling in that Eddie Munson way. It’s an incredulous and mind boggling turn of events. Best-friends that broke up when they were never together, now side by side and in a very compromising situation.

You grin and falter into his embrace, your hand working its way into a wind around his neck, taking sweaty strands in scoops between your fingers, his pick chain draped across your knuckles. Eddie licks across his bottom lip, tapping your hips as he moves, your hands falling, and sprawls his legs into a propped spread, cock neglected and flushed, much like the rest of his skin, that you’ll die if you don’t put your marks on. He’s motioning for you to turn in a slow facing position in front of him, and that’s how you end up—vulnerable, so fucking vulnerable. He’s muttering words, huddled and unintelligible, reaching out and tugging you to him by your ankles, stopping, resting, eyes dark as they do a once over to gauge your mental stability. When you don’t protest, palms splaying out to keep yourself upright behind you, Eddie lets his legs flatten against his sheets, a smirk pattering his lips, indenting its knowing presses beside his mouth.

His exhale catches on a ragged breath, a passionate declaration signing off on what’s about to occur, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he pulls you close, your ass resting on his hairy thighs, waiting, held, his arm wrapping around your lower back and lifting you completely into that ink splattered, silk-slick chest, his skin sticking to your long sleeved t-shirt, ruining it with sex-soaked perspiration. You think that there’s nothing—no—you know that in this entire world, no matter what, that whatever will happen to you is never going to compare to the moment when Eddie’s maneuvering hands glide your wet cunt over his cock, using your drenching heat as his own personal lubricant. Your ankles lock around his waist, no choice from the close band that your best-friend has re-tethered you to him with, leaving no room or space where you’re not touching or breathing in the other. Your arms curl around Eddie’s neck, hands draped down his back as you help yourself to pinching and clawing the flesh beneath, relishing every little grumble and groan off his pretty lips. Your face takes solace in his neck, nosing your way through his curly hair, nose bumping his chain to lift so that your mouth can claim him.

“Fuck.” His throat constricts around a swallow, your teeth sinking into a piece of Eddie’s flesh and biting, releasing, lips closing over that angry spot to soothe, tongue tasting salt, licking it off, indulging.

He lets your have your way with his neck, a particularly harsh slap landing on your ass in following of your mouth on his jugular, letting your tongue following that curvature into his jawline. You don’t stop his wandering hands, you don’t dare fight off his vice grip on the globes of your ass, his kneading, using as them leverage to place you right where he wants you. You let him take control, an unspoken agreement, a having to have. Your head falls back as Eddie rolls his hips beneath, rocking his lap, solid presses that drag his fat cock over your embarrassingly wet pussy, scattering your thick arousal and smearing it across his happy trail, getting caught in that patch of curls at the base of his shaft. You’re dripping all over him, quite literally. Caught on a trapped hum, hung in its hisses between your clenched teeth, you croon into Eddie’s neck, your stomach tightening, that velvety drag of his dick through your swollen folds making your lids flutter closed, colors dotting in their dances—translucent.

You aren’t sure where to move your hands, comfortable with having them shred Eddie’s back and empty out the past few days of frustration and desperation. Eddie encourages, palming handfuls of your ass, creating a cresting twist, a thigh trembling rub of sopping wet desire. He’s merely whimpering, appreciating, not overly vocal until his swollen head catches your neglected clit, and his head drops back, fingers pinching so tightly into your skin that it burns.

“Oh, shit. Dammit, baby.”

You’re simpering on a series of whimpers, agreeable and speechless. Eddie is feeding off it. “Yeah? You needing this too? Little clit feels so good rubbing on my dick, sweetheart. You want me to do it again?”

When you’re not immediately able to be vocal, Eddie pulls back a little, shoving his hand between your thighs and drags his rings directly through your arousal, coating them in a glittering shine. His first real touch where you need him the most. You both inhale sharply. It’s the pain from the cool metal of his jewelry that makes it feel so fucking good. He curses, telling you how messy you’re being, flinging his hand in your sights, dragging you in a pry off of his neck, holding your jaw and flashing his knuckles.

“See what you did, messy little angel. You gotta clean em’ now for me.”

His eyes are so fucking demolished, brown crushed beneath a midnight sea of black and insatiable attraction. You’re mewling, tongue lolling out, licking that metallic onto your tongue, sloppily sloping around his knuckles, lips suckling what your tongue can’t catch, your own taste fresh off your mouth. That’s when Eddie brushes a calloused thumb across your bottom lip, tugging it down to expose your teeth, and he brings your lips to his, a feral groan stealing your breath, sharing your juices in your first kiss. It’s a shift in the energy you share, a no going back, no running away, a fate sealed. Eddie loses all control and flips you off his lap, pinning you beneath him, kissing you with such feverish vigor that your hand tangles into his messy curls, and you pull, hard.

His tongue licks your lips open, greedily removing what’s left of your taste that remains. It’s noisy and nasty in the expanse of his small bedroom—diabolically sinful. One hand caresses your throat’s expanse, the other dropping down with a snapped wrist between your thighs, palm smacking your cunt, a guttural groan vibrating from his mouth into your own. Saliva strings on the break away, Eddie’s gaze switching to watch the hand on your cunt, out of it.

“Your pussy always this wet, baby? Or is it just for your best-friend?”

“Only for you, Eddie. Always you.”

Fallen into the depths of satisfaction, Eddie permits a slender digit to drag down your slit, taking that thick honey with it, a squelch echoing in the room when his finger wiggles its way inside of you. You clamp around him, chest heaving with shaky breaths.

“Jesus Christ. You’re gonna drown my dick when you let me fuck you, aren’t you?”

You’re incoherently babbling, tapping the hand that’s on your throat, hungry for it. “Tighter.”

Eddie’s brow raise is comical, a surprise coating his features. “So miss Y/N likes it rough? Never woulda guessed.”

You gulp a pump of air that vibrates across his hold, trying to gain more depth from his finger. It’s moving in exploration of your softly wet walls, an excess of arousal being pressed out upon that squish. Eddie tightens his hold on your throat, before he taps his fingers to your jugular and releases, hand toppling down your side and caressing, bringing. “Fuck, my best-friend’s got such a perfect little pussy. S’ made to be destroyed and used.”

You’re nodding so hard that the motion causes a cracking pop in your neck, Eddie laughing that noise under a cute breath. He’s thick with it, wiggling in a second finger and causing you drop your hands back behind you and push into the sensation, chasing, hunting it.

“Desperate to get away from me all week, now look at you. What a whore.”

Eddie has a mouth on him, something you’d always wondered about in your daily daydreams and nightly fantasies. As vocal as when he’s singing with his band. He’s saying words to you, snapping your attention, you’re whining as his fingers leave your cunt, and he’s pulling you into him so hard your lips split apart, cushioning his cock, cradling him in that overwhelming slick. He must not have meant for that action to cause it, as he jumps when you do, this feral look flickering behind those heated orbs. You know… it’s time.

Eddie is barely able to stand, clumsily bringing you with him by a laced grip in your hands. He gets you upright and you’re dizzy, his hands taking purchase on your shirt (the only remaining piece of clothing on you), and rips it with gritting teeth and anger, as if he’s pissed it’s not the club shirt, or sickened with himself for destroying yours—you’re not sure. Spit pools at the corners of your mouth as you let him tear off your tattered tee and yank your bra down, impatiently yanking the clasp apart and discarding it, helping himself to your tits, closing those plush lips over a nipple. Your hand wraps around his throbbing cock, fingers barely touching around the width, squeezing him—tugging. His hips stutter and he whines against your breast, teeth biting the flesh with a harsh precision.

Your other hand works its way through his wet curls and massages his scalp, tenderly altering in beckoning strokes, ones that switch off into root tugging pulls. Eddie’s hands keep your breast cupped, switching off to the other, whilst you dip lower and fondle his balls, letting your pinky drop off and scratch into his inner thigh. He’s doing that humming thing underneath his fucked out tone again, and you’re focusing your attention on his cock, thumb pad stroking that weeping slit, spreading it around and over that vein, enchanted with how it causes a thin bright shine over him, your own cream matted into the curls at the base of him, pathed up his stomach. His mouth leaves your chest and those big hands grip your cheeks, both of you watching as you jack him with a sticky tug.

Fuck me.

“Who’s the whore for his bestfriend now, Eds? You gonna admit that half the shit I’ve done this week has gotten your dick so hard you can’t decide what you’ve hated me for more,” You say, pausing to twist your grip, making him fold into your holding hand, “my smart mouth or how much you need this.”

Your powering dominance is short lived, hand falling off his erection, with Eddie kneeing you into a shove until your back collides with his desk, his arm reaching around to push most of its contents off and onto the floor, not caring where any of it goes. He nudges your thighs apart and slots his lean frame between, thumb catching the corner of your mouth, his instruction clear, yet awaiting your consent to cross this no back-stepping boundary. “M’ gonna fuck you right here, and you’re goin’ to watch me take you, Y/N.”

You’re pretty sure you’re gonna pass out at any given moment.

“I’m gonna watch you, Eddie.” You agree, zoning out and sprinting after your pleasure.

“Good girl.” Eddie breaks briefly, mouth on your shoulder, hand winding your hair around his fist and tugging it back so hard that the ache inside of you becomes an inferno. He finds the underside of your chin, voice honey-hot. “Because you’re not leaving this room until there’s a puddle of me running back out of your cunt.”

You launch forward so fast that Eddie falls into you, chest smashing against your breasts, your lips crashing into his for a brutally intimate kiss. You sink your teeth into his bottom lip and tug, biting down so hard you taste copper—licking it up and making Eddie’s cock jump. His ring covered hand attaches itself to your throat and he drags you off your prop against the desk, spinning you around and securing you to it, those hairy thighs pressing into you, wet cock so close to where you need him the most. His hand wraps around your hair again and lifts your gaze to that small opening in the mirror where posters and his most prized possession hangs. You’re flushed and soaked with sweat, mouth swollen and streaked with red from biting into Eddie’s plump lip, your pussy dripping thick strings of your creamy essence, slowly slithering in dangles from your pussy and onto the floor.

“You’re so fucking messy, Y/N. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, baby?” Eddie is like the devil on your shoulder, and you, you’re his angel of eternal damnation.

You’re about to beg, but Eddie saves you the trouble, his fingers tapping in tips down your spine, caressing, stroking, before they spread your lips apart and dip inside, palm flat. “Should fuckin’ split you open, do it raw. Cum so deep inside that you end up pregnant with my baby and have no choice but to always think of me, be around me.”

Though there’s a tease behind his passionate words, there’s this primal exclamation that overtakes you and you clamp down on his fingers. A series of fast paced images are vivid in your mind. Your tummy swollen and breasts heavy, Eddie having you bent over like this—one hand on your belly, the other on your throat, feeling your pulse galavant beneath his touch.

“Y/N… Fuck, sweetheart.” He’s so fucked in his descending tone that the depth is gruff and tipping off his diaphragm, you imagine. He presses his cheek against your own, chin resting on your shoulder as you drink each other in, in the mirror’s expanse, Eddie’s tone weak. “You really willing to carry my kid?”

You meet his eyes in the cluttered mirror, nodding, a softness carving out permanent residence in your features. It’s a topic you’d never shared with anyone else, never banked too much on thinking about, but beyond the idea of how hot this all is, you can’t imagine a scenario like this that doesn’t involve Eddie Munson. Vulnerable and barely above a brisk whisper, you’re answering him with, “Yeah, Eds. Want a family with you.”

At your admission, he lets his hand go in languid thrusts. You groan and let your head shift, but Eddie is jerking you back to stare into the glass, both of you panting and on the cusp of an out of body experience. It causes you to grin, licking your lips as your best-friend pumps those experienced digits to cause a purposeful squelch, his rings clinking together. His hard cock is pressed between his own stomach and your back, that pre-cum pooling onto your lower back and smearing in streaks down your ass. You’ve had more than enough teasing and you’re well aware that Eddie has too.

His look briefly falters, turning to mouth at your chin, a silent question. It’s you who uses your words, or rather, trembles in your feeble attempt. “Eddie, just put your cock inside me, or I swear I’ll—“

He’s smirking wildly at your slack-jawed expression when his fingers slide out of you and stick together with your cum, to which he helps himself to and coats his cock, then lines himself up and presses the thick head into your opening, leaning down to bite at your shoulder and leave an exposed imprint. Your legs feel like jello and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. He’s going to ask you to beg, and you’re an all in willing participant. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t. He inhales sharply, you hold your breath, and both of you watch him sink into your slick and soft cunt, inch by inch, until his balls rest against the globes of your cheeks.

You’re still holding your breath, releasing it when you feel him sigh, grip on your hair loosening a little, too caught up in the fact that he’s where he belongs, after so much time doing without this. Your legs are about to buckle, jerking, toes curling against the carpeted floor, overwhelmed by everything that’s happened, and by your best-friend’s cock throbbing in your aching pussy. “E-Eds…?” It’s a pathetic cry of a question.

Eddie’s brows pinch together, sweat beaded between. He grips your jaw and his fingertips tap you back to meet his mouth, hovering over your lips. “S’ okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.” He briefly drops the playful gimmick, reassuring you that he’s right here with you.

It’s more than enough to have you arching back into him, a brash pummeling of his hips that sends you into the dresser, having to reach out and catch yourself. Eddie is quick witted, gripping your wrists with one hand and pinning them behind your back, stepping with you in toe, elongating his arm to snatch those handcuffs on his wall, that cold metal biting into your wrist, that dull noise presenting itself as the cuffs lock you into place, Eddie gripping onto the chains’ excess expanse, using it as a leverage. A sliver of a chalky moan trickles off your kiss-swollen lips, appreciative. The way Eddie is manhandling you has you so fucking euphoric that you’re sure you’ll be in a comatose state before either of you can cum. Your best-friend’s large hand finds purchase in your hair again, drawing his hips back, the other on the chain of the cuffs—steadying himself into a rhythm, riding you like all that matters is your destruction and his ultimate ownership.

Eddie Munson has owned you since the very moment that you two met.

The way he’s executing such precise and rough thrusts, making sure you’re high on the bring up, toes pressing into the carpet, that you’re stuffed full of his fat cock until it hurts, twitching in overstimulation, sore and fluttering walls eager to be soaked in everything he has to give you, that you are taking in every inch, catching every ridge, leaving you a shambled, panting mess, in pieces only being put back together again when Eddie will allow your release. His hair is tickling your shoulder blades, his fingers leaving the cuffs to press into your mouth and curl over your tongue, relishing in how you gag around the digits. You’re weak, so fucking weak for him, and he knows it.

“Can’t wait to hear you gag on my cock, Y/N. If you have trouble with these bad boys?” He puts an emphasis, wiggling his fingers against your tongue, giving them a secondary push to over extend your gag reflexes, his dick twitching inside you.

You bite down on his fingers, sucking them in, accepting his challenge, willing it to happen. His balls slap into your ass, heavy and hot, every movement causing the metal to rut into the skin of your wrists. He’s got a steady tempo going, alternating it by dipping his hips to bring you with him, letting you nearly collide with your chest flush to his desk. He reaches up and shoves that poster back by peeling tape, revealing more of your fucked out forms. Your eyes widen at your disheveled and unrecognizable appearance, Eddie using your cuffed hands as reigns. Riding you so hard that you can’t breathe anything but his hot air curling around the shell of your ear.

“Dammit, you are such a good girl for me, Y/N. Always pictured you takin’ my cock, but you’re not even crying yet, just taking what I give you.”

Yet… Fuck me running.

Your scalp is tingling with a prickling crowd of flames from his harsh grip, his other hand reaching to smack your ass, using some mechanism on the cuffs—albeit—struggling with his spit soaked fingers that were just in your mouth, to unlatch them and discard them at your feet, and he watches the flesh of your ass cheek redden and jiggle beneath his biting palm. You fist your fingers into a strewn pair of his blue denim jeans left on the desk top, dipping your forehead down and arching your back, trying to look between your own legs from this new angle to see Eddie’s cock cradled in your puffy lips. He tuts at your unsuccessful action, forcing you back into watching him doing his hard work—the hardest he’s worked at anything (sans his band or the campaigns, if he’s being honest with himself)—to make this unforgettable for you. He hits that spot located inside, the one you have to strain an arm to barely graze, and you lose all coherent capabilities.

“Eddie… that’s, oh my god, oh FUCK. Right there!”

Eddie’s throat crumbles under a weak pant, which ends up coming out as a whimper. He remains firm, however, still using your hair to keep you right where he wants you, his other hand reaching around to pet his own shaft as he slides out just enough to make you wetter.

“Yeah, baby? That spot gonna make somethin’ happen for you?”

You don’t answer, mumbles and babbling gibberish. He shakes that precious head of his, curls tickling your back and shoulders, a sigh breaking free. “Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t believe we’re doin’ this in front of you. Both my girls right here with me, one of them at my fuckin’ mercy.” Your attentions snap over your shoulder and you see Eddie looking at his fucking guitar, that is one of the only things remaining on the mirror. You gape, but aren’t surprised in the slightest.

He continues on, pretending he doesn’t see your partial seethe. “Makin’ a mess all over me, but I bet you like to see it too, don’t you?” He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, still talking to the inanimate object. “Both my sweethearts are such sluts for their owner.”

You can’t help that rattle that clamps around your bones and slices through your spinal cord, seizing your abdomen, right down into your cunt. Owner? You have zero time to warn him, ask if you can, alarms unprepared, skin slapping on skin, his taste on your mouth, his breath on your flesh, that slippery glide that has cum running down your thighs, and it’s a sudden wave crashing over your insides and drowning them in your painfully interstellar-esque orgasm. Your eyes burn with tears as you watch your best-friend feel what’s happening, realizing. He’s covered in your release, and instead of being mad, he is influencing you like the little devil that he can be, plump lip pressing to your ear lobe with one continuous command. “That’s it. C’mon, Y/N. Drench my dick.”

You wish you could bottle the feeling of your first orgasm with Eddie Munson, your best-friend—forever. Finding yourself growing into that vulnerability that comes with the high, you seek to find solace in Eddie’s arms, whimpering at the overstimulation of his thick cock. With that connection still in tact, Eddie is spinning you around, dick sliding out with a messy mixture of arousals covering you both—his member completely doused in your cream, painting the trimmed curls at the base of his shaft with even more of you, slicking back some more of that happy trail. You want to be embarrassed, but as he’s red faced and struggling to breathe, you know that there’s no need to be. He steers you back onto the bed, falling easily between your spread thighs, drawing them up and around his waist.

He presses his forehead into your own, kissing each corner of your mouth, rings circling in dusting sweeps on the apex of your thighs. His voice is a shivered whisper. “Fuck, baby. You okay?”

There’s words on your tongue, Eddie’s taste on your mouth, things you’ve known for years, but are unsure if Eddie has, or if this is something he needs because he’s afraid you’ll abandon him, but that he doesn’t feel what you do. Your head is spinning and Eddie brushes sweaty strands of hair off your forehead, taking his cock through your swollen folds, pressing that spongey head into your clit—both of you crying out. “Y/N, m’ right here. Care to join me?”

And god help you, the way that you look at him. Really allow yourself to see him this way—unabashed—it stirs all those feelings Eddie has bottled down since forever. You press your thumb into his mouth, your other hand sliding down to grip onto him, gliding your hand back and forth, relishing in how his abdomen tenses, muscles flexing, body gravitating towards whatever you’re willing to bestow. He doesn’t let you touch him much longer, taking what your hand isn’t around and guiding it back into your cunt, that scrumptious burn brimming you, making your thighs drop open, back arch, only to tighten your ankles around him, digging your heels into his ass. He suckles your fingertip into his mouth, licking the digit in until it’s down to the knuckle.

Your head presses sideways, cheek on his pillow, inhaling his shaving cream and that spicy scent. He pauses his movements, making you frown in displeasure. He lets go of your spit tainted finger, gripping your chin, a possessive fire overcoming him. His irises remain completely black, putting you deeper into that comatose trance of agonizing sin. “I want you to fucking say it, Y/N.”

You start a beginning questionnaire, Eddie shaking his head and pressing in harder on your chin, fingers splaying across your jaw, rings pinching your chin in the most delightfully painful of ways. “Say you want me, tell me you fucking need me. That you’re not tired of me, and that you’re proud to be the freak’s slut.”

Your hands wind around his back and you sink your nails in as hard as you can, bearing down on him, sucking him in deeper, both of you in a state of no return. His hand tickles down from your face and grips your neck. “Still sick of me, baby?” He situates your gaze, lifting his hips to a raise so that you can see where you’re connected. You’re inconsolable, that fire already blazing your gut, turning every sense into nothingness.

When Eddie starts back up again, he slams himself into you so hard that your vision goes dark and you shred your own bottom lip open, body moving closer to his wall due to the force. He’s licking beneath your jugular, words sensual and filthy, making your entire body spike in a sudden electricity. “Gonna cum in every hole you’ve got, so you remember that they’re mine.”

This time you’re more than ready to give him a warning, body beginning to shake beyond your control, breaths stuttering in your chest. Eddie reaches down between you, calloused thumb flicking your clit. Everything is so fucking wet and the way it sounds in the expanse of Eddie’s small room, it has you opening your mouth, out of control and greedily begging for more.

“Eds, harder. Please? Almost…”

He’s grinning in that special way that weakens you—heart and soul, body and mind. “So much more than a slut.” His thrusts become choppy, his own babbling tone turning into Eddie-speak. “You are way more than you know, Y/N.”

You fondle his pick chain and bring him into your immediate airspace, mouths hovering. He’s nearing his end, cock getting fuller inside you. “Need you to tell me how much you love me.”

You both completely go slack. Eddie stops himself all together, body trembling, head bowing. Your heart rate increases, feeling as if you’ve skipped a staircase thousands of feet in the air and you’re now free falling.

Love… You don’t have to think twice.

Your hands move to cup his face, holding on, your eyes shining with tears at all overloaded emotions and senses. “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.”

At your admission, those beautiful eyes—dark with remains of passion—they fill, and he gives you his all, driving his cock into you in calculated presses, trying like hell to get you to cum first. When he speaks, his voice cracks apart. “Let me know that you’re right here with me, Y/N.”

“I’ve always been here, Eddie.” Is what you manage, thumping your hand against his wrist and helping him bring his fingers back to your clit.

He doesn’t let you look away, noses smashed together, sticky foreheads pressing, hair curtaining the apples of pink, sex stained cheeks. Your eyes widen as that knot begins to tighten in your stomach, unraveling so violently that Eddie has to grip your quivering thigh in one hand, the other keeping steady on your clit. You dig into his back, other hand tugging on his hair, and Eddie is giving a throaty seduction. “That’s it, be my good girl and cum again for me.”

And you’re coming apart at your very core, every cell exploding and rebuilding, gluing yourself to Eddie to seize the ache that scrambles your insides and leaves you breathless. He’s cursing, keeping his finger on your clit to help you coast over the high, immediately following you with the lowest, sweetest, whimpering moan that you’ve ever heard. Both of your eyes still drinking in the other’s pleasure, tears spilling over your lash line as Eddie’s hips cease and he holds, his cock swelling and that soft, creamy warmth coating your sore walls in spurts. He collapses onto your chest and you hold him there in a vice hug, his hand still trapped between your exhausted bodies. He gently eases it out, groaning around the wetness that he’s all too eager to sample until the layer of shine is off his fingers.

Holy shit and fuck me…

Your legs fall to the side, unable to stay upright any longer, Eddie keeping a hovering hand to soothe your shaking. He kisses your neck with a plush mouth, his chain dangling between your breasts. You’re petting his hair—which is so soaked it’s as if he’s been in the rain or come from the shower—off his forehead, wincing as he slides out and keeps himself by your side. You gasp and he joins, fascinated by your cum and his own seed pouring from your cunt. He raises up a little. “Mhm. Let me see?”

He props your thigh, sliding his fingers back and forth, zoned in on his bedsheets being ruined from the literal puddle of your shared cum that runs from you. Seconds pass and he grins widely, plopping onto his back, his fingertips caressing your shoulder, down to your arm. It’s a comfortable quiet, even with the intense meaning of the words that were spoken, until Eddie starts with a, “So..?”

And you cut him off, trying to get your uncomfortably hot body closer. “So I love you. And I have never stopped needing you, or wanting you, Eddie. I just hope all this wasn’t because we were fighting and you got scared I would leave, and —“

He doesn’t let you finish this time, that chocolate-ly brown ring swinging back around his pupil in a brisk develop, showcasing the moisture in his eyes. “I was scared because I love you so damn much that I would charge headfirst into Mordor, or some alternate dimension without any weapon or any shield, just for you. You gotta know that, Y/N.”

His softness, that glittering fragility, it makes you seal your mouth to his, kissing him full of your feelings. He cups the nape of your neck, drawing in closer, thumb coaxing a shiver from you as it passes over a certain spot behind your ear. On a wet break away, you’re nodding your head. “Guess we spent all week fighting when we should’ve been fucking and talking about our feelings.”

Eddie smirks, then is serious. “Be that as it may, I’m sorry I’ve been shit at showing you I appreciate all that you do for the guys and me. And for forgetting that you are your own person too. S’ not like I meant to, I swear. I just get so fucking caught up and I shouldn’t take for granted anything that has to do with you or with us.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re my best-friend, Eddie Munson?”

While it’s still true, you’re wondering when the words leave your lips. Eddie just fucked you so hard you probably won’t be able to sit down for a week or walk upright for hours, so friendship isn’t exactly the most appropriate term anymore, is it?

Eddie taps his fingertips to your temple, drawing your dazed expression, clinging to the cosmic connection once more. “M’ yours, Y/N.”

“Oh yeah, Munson?” You’re so high that you could fly out of here right now and make rounds around the whole globe. Your chest is aching with a tempo that promises new hope and ease.

Eddie is giddy too, that wide set smile, cheesing. “Just gotta get you a new shirt.”

The memory of your old club attire being one with the forest floor seems like so long ago. Eddie knuckle grazes your cheek, apologetic. You shush him. “I ruined yours, so we’re even.”

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes and he’s tackling you beneath him, pinning your hands in a lace above your head. “Nah, we are just getting started on bein’ even, baby.”

~*~

Tagging: @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson @gothbitchshit @thisishellfire @ethereal27cereal @likedovesinthewnd

-I really need to form a bigger tag list! I’m sorry :/-

Lemme know if you want on my general tag list, please! :)

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 years ago

Text

Headcannon that Steve is actually smarter than he let's on because he's so used to pretending to be stupid in front of his dad. Even though he never said, his dad always hated it when a kid was smarter than him. When he got mad at him for not getting into college, Steve figured that it wasn't him that was the problem but his dad. No matter what Steve did, he wasn't good enough for his father. Steve figured out D&D pretty quickly, not that he would tell Dustin that. It was always hilarious when Dustin got mad when Steve called it anything other than Dungeons and Dragons. He was so used to hiding the fact that he understood more than he let on. He even hid it from the party, even though they had been through so much together and they were more like a family than his own family had been.

It was Eddie who had caught on to the fact. He was always watching the former king of Hawkins High, curious to know about the mysteries he hid deep within. The kids always scoffed when he called him that: a mystery. They saw what they wanted to see on the surface: a man with no hidden depths. He was exactly who he said he was. Eddie knew differently. He watched him out of the corner of his eye and watched him smirk at every joke Steve Harrington shouldn't have understood. Eddie knew exactly what he was hiding. He decided to test his theory.

Steve hadn't been expecting it. They were holding Hellfire at his house since the school wouldn't allow them to host it on the property anymore. Steve didn't play, but Eddie allowed him to sit in to watch. While Steve was watching the game, he didn't know that Eddie was casually watching him. When the game wrapped up and Eddie called out to him while he was cleaning up, Eddie asked him a question that Steve shouldn't know.

Steve froze when he answered and looked up to see Eddie looking at him gleefully. Eddie pressed him, and eventually Steve broke, telling him all about his father. He told him how his father hated that he read so much. He hated that his son was such a nerd. He told him how his books had been his only source of comfort growing up because he had been left alone so often. He told him how he had to let that go in favor of sports, but he did eventually love basketball, but he hated being an asshole like his father. When he stopped crying, a thing he was taught never to do, he realized that Eddie was holding him in his arms.

"What else are you hiding from us, big boy?" Eddie asked softly.

Steve leaned over and kissed him. He pulled back, afraid that he had messed things up, but Eddie was smiling. The other man moved forward and kissed him so sweetly that Steve’s legs nearly gave away. It was a good thing that Eddie was holding him up.

"You don't have to hide yourself away, Stevie, not ever. Not with us, okay? And I know I made a big deal about it before, and I apologized to Lucas for it. It's okay to be a nerd and a jock. It's okay to like both."

#stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things s4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #ficlet #stranger things ficlet

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years ago

Text

Where the Heart Is - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Nancy invites you home to Hawkins for Thanksgiving break after you’ve become best friends at Emerson College. When you spend a “friends-giving” at Steve’s house with all of Nancy’s friends, you make a special connection with a certain metal head.

Note: Huge thanks to @gathered-moss and @munsonquinns for their help when I got stuck!

Warnings: language, mentions of not the best family life, mentions of sex, i think that’s it?

Words: 13.8K

[Part 2 | Where The Heart Is masterlist]

“I really appreciate this, Nancy. Your family really didn’t have to do this.”

“Will you stop?” Nancy huffs a laugh.

The airport is crowded. Grandparents flying across the country to see their children and grandchildren, lifelong best friends getting to see each other for the first time in years, and kids like you and Nancy, flying back from college for Thanksgiving break.

The Wheelers were kind enough to invite you to their home for the holiday. Karen had heard about you for months now, Nancy having told her all about the best friend she’s made away at Emerson. When she’d heard that you didn’t have family to spend the break with, she didn’t hesitate to invite you to Hawkins.

Nancy had bumped into you in the laundry room on the third floor of the dorm building you both lived in. You had bonded over how you both disliked your roommates as you separated your warm from your cold clothes. You’ve been close friends ever since. A long hall separated your room from Nancy’s, but you’d often use the other’s space to get away from your respective roommates. Nancy’s roommate was a total slob, while yours was just an all-around inconsiderate person to occupy the same space with.

“I can’t wait for you to meet Steve,” Nancy says as you take the escalator down to the baggage claim level.

“He’s seemed great every time I’ve talked to him,” you say.

“You mean when you’ve stolen the phone out of my hand so you guys can talk about me?” she asks with a smirk.

“Well, you wouldn’t give it to me willingly! But I like him. And I know from the pictures in your room how cute he is.”

Nancy adjusts the duffle bag on her shoulder as you both step off the escalator. You follow her in, what you assume, is the right direction since you’d never been to Indiana before, let alone the Indianapolis airport. A pretty blonde woman smiles in your direction and waves her hands.

“Oh, there’s my mom,” Nancy says. She closes the distance, and her mom pulls her into a tight hug.

“I’ve missed you!” her mother says. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home. Mrs. Wheeler turns to you and gives you a warm smile. “Hi, dear! I’ve heard so much about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Wheeler,” you say as you shake the hand she’s extended to you. “Thank you so much for letting me join your family for Thanksgiving.”

“Please, call me Karen,” she says. “And it’s no trouble at all. We’re glad to have you.”

Luckily, both yours and Nancy’s bags come out quickly on the baggage conveyor belt, and you’re able to get back to the car and on the road for the hour or so journey up to Hawkins. Nancy and her mom chat animatedly in the front seats, bringing you into the conversation every now and then. But you don’t mind just listening to them talk about people and places that you don’t know. Seeing a mother and a daughter get along as well as they do gives you a melancholy feeling. You’re glad Nancy has such a great relationship with her mom, but it makes your heart sink a little that you don’t have that.

“So, who all is going to your thankful friend thing?” Karen asks.

“Friends-giving, Mom,” Nancy says. “It’s all of us.”

“I’m supposed to know who that includes?” Karen says.

“Mike and that gang. Dustin, Will, Lucas, Max, El. Then, Eddie, Robin, and Jonathan,” Nancy says.

“Jonathan?” you can tell by the tone of voice that her mom is surprised that Nancy’s ex is going to an event at her current boyfriend’s house.

“Yeah, well, it would’ve been weird not to invite him,” Nancy says. “He’s back from college too, and Will and El are coming, so we weren’t going to leave their older brother out.”

“That was nice of you guys,” Karen says. Though the comment sounds sincere, you can tell Karen wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or not.

“It’s fine, Mom,” Nancy says, picking up on the same edge in her voice that you did.

“Okay, okay,” Karen acquiesces. “Now, Steve is having dinner with us tonight, right?”

“Yes. He and I gotta show the out-of-towner around town this afternoon,” she says, looking over her shoulder at you with a smirk. “Then he’s coming back for dinner.”

“Have you talked to Steve before?” Karen asks, looking at you in the rear-view mirror.

“I have,” you tell her. “He seems great.”

“He is,” Karen agrees as she pulls the car into the driveway of a pretty suburban two story.

You look out the window in awe at the size of the house compared to the small apartment back in New Hampshire that would be called your “home.” Following the Wheeler women out of the car, you pull your suitcase out of the trunk. There’s a high-pitched squeal that comes from behind you and you turn to see a small blonde girl running across the street and flinging herself into Nancy’s arms.

“Holly!” Nancy hugs her little sister so tightly she lifts her off the ground. The girl giggles and squeezes Nancy around the neck until she sets her down.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” Holly says. Nancy presses a kiss to the top of her head and tugs on one of her two pigtails.

“Me too,” she tells her. “This is my friend from school I was telling you about. Can you say hi?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Holly,” you tell her.

She smiles shyly at you and hides half of her face behind her big sister’s arm.

“Hi,” she says in her meek voice.

“You can go back over and play with Dana,” Nancy tells her. Holly nods before she runs back across the street.

Nancy grabs her suitcase and Karen leads the two of you into the house.

“Where’s Mike?”

“Oh, the boys are having some dragon dungeon thing today at Lucas’s,” Karen says.

“Of course they are,” Nancy says. “What a perfectly good waste of a day off school. Come on, my room is upstairs.”

You both lug your suitcases up to the second floor and into Nancy’s room. As you slip your backpack off your back, you take in the dainty atmosphere the bedroom gives off. The light furniture and collages that adorn the walls make the room feel cozy and safe, a place to escape the world at the end of the day. The Tom Cruise poster makes you chuckle and the lemon fresh scent in the space is calm and inviting.

“Just dump it anywhere,” Nancy says, gesturing to your suitcase.

She sets hers down near the foot of her bed and you lay yours in the corner of the room, careful to make sure it isn’t in the way. There are pictures tacked to the wall above your suitcase and your eyes search the photos, smiling at the fun it seems Nancy is having in them. Some show a young Nancy with missing teeth, standing next to other small girls, all draped in costume jewelry. There are some of Nancy older, with a redhead with thick glasses.

“That’s Barb,” Nancy says from behind you. There’s a catch in her voice, like she’s trying to compose herself. “She was my best friend. She, um, died when we were sophomores.”

“Oh, Nancy.” You turn to face her, your own face in a frown. “I’m so sorry.”

She gives you a sad smile and nods her head.

“That one is Robin right there,” she says, pointing to another picture of two girls in dark green graduation gowns. Their arms are slung around each other and Nancy’s smile is infectious in the shot. The other girl has short dirty blonde hair with blunt bangs, white teeth on full display as she grins at the camera. “You’ll meet her on Friday.”

“It’s really cool that you’ve got such a large group of friends to get together with,” you say. “I can probably think of two people total from high school that I’d visit if I went home.”

“Yeah,” Nancy says with a sigh. “There were a few really rough years here in Hawkins. We all went through a lot together, which I guess brings people together.”

“The earthquake, right?” you ask, turning from the pictures to look back at Nancy. “And before that, there was that fire?”

Nancy nods and walks back towards her bed. “Yep. A lot happened in this little town.”

“Where’s my beautiful girlfriend?”

At the sound of the voice in the hall, Nancy’s mood makes a one-eighty, and her face lights up in delight. A tall, athletic boy swoops in the door and pulls Nancy into his arms. She laughs as he picks her up and spins her around.

“God, I missed you,” he says. He sets her down and cups her face in his large hands, bending down to press his lips to her. She kisses him back for a few moments before she pulls back, remembering you’re in the room as well. Steve follows her gaze to you and smiles in greeting. His smile alone would’ve told you why all the girls at their high school fell for him.

“I’m really hoping you’re Steve,” you say.

“The one and only,” Nancy says.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make out in front of you,” Steve says. “It’s nice to actually meet you in person.

“No, don’t mind me. I’m third wheeling here. Make out to your heart’s content.” Nancy rolls her eyes playfully at you. You step forward, unsure if you should shake Steve’s hand or if that’s too formal. “Nice to see you too, Steve. Nancy was right. You’re even better looking in person.”

Steve smirks as Nancy blushes. Steve saves you from not being sure how to greet him by wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you to his side.

“I knew I liked you,” he says.

“Why do I feel like introducing you two was a huge mistake?” Nancy says, her head dropping forward in a dramatic fashion.

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet. Wait until she meets the rest of the gang. You know how many stories we have to swap?” Steve asks her.

“Please no,” Nancy pleads.

“As someone who was invited into your house as a guest, I feel like it’s only polite to take your side,” you say, and Nancy gives you a cautiously optimistic look. “But, as a guest in Steve’s house on Friday, wouldn’t it be polite to then take his side?”

“I’m going back to Boston,” Nancy says as she stalks out of the room.

You and Steve laugh as you watch her leave. He removes his arm from around you and goes to follow her out the door but turns to you right before he crosses the threshold.

“Are there any guys I should be worried about up there?” He asks the question as if he’s kidding, but you can tell there’s a bit of true worry under his casual tone.

“Are you kidding?” you respond. “She talks about you to anyone who will listen. For hours on end.”

The smile that lights up Steve’s face is priceless, and you wish Nancy could have seen how full of love and admiration his expression was.

“We better follow her before she really does head back to Boston,” Steve says.

Nancy made it seem like your tour of Hawkins would be the most boring thing you’ve ever done. On the contrary, you found the small town quaint and quiet. It was a nice change from bustling Boston or your sketchy downtown living in your town in New Hampshire. The leaves were in crisp autumn colors, some trees shedding their coats for the impending winter. The streets were mostly empty, but every now and then there was someone bundled up in a coat and scarf walking down the sidewalk.

Steve drove you past places central to his and Nancy’s growing up there. The high school and middle school right across from it, the now-closed-for-the-season community pool, even a large white clinical looking building that made Steve and Nancy share a disconcerting knowing look. You couldn’t imagine what the gates and barbed wire fences were needed for in a town like this.

You’d already heard all about Mike from your month’s long friendship with Nancy, but from the way Steve talked about another younger boy, Dustin, you thought that he was Steve’s brother until Nancy told you otherwise. The adoring way they both spoke of him made you look forward to meeting him, though. Steve warned you that Robin could ramble on, but you assured him that you could keep up with the best of the ramblers. Eddie, who Steve begrudgingly called one of his best friends, came up in passing, as did a girl named Max. The way both Steve and Nancy talked about their friends filled you with a longing for something you never knew you wanted. You hadn’t been worried about meeting Nancy’s friends before, but now hearing how close they all were and what a tight knit group they formed, you were a little worried that you wouldn’t be accepted into their circle. You told Nancy as much that night as the two of you were getting ready for bed.

“Trust me, you really don’t have to worry,” Nancy assures you. “The hardest one to win over will probably be Max, but she’s really only about as half as mean as she pretends to be.”

“I’m not sure how comforting that is,” you say.

Nancy slides into the covers on one side of the bed, and you slip in on the other. She clicks the lamp off as you pull the covers up to your chin.

“I’ve never once seen you worried about what people will think of you,” Nancy says. “Not even Ben when you had that massive crush on him.”

“I didn’t have enough time to care what he thought of me before I found out he had a girlfriend,” you tell her.

“I still can’t believe he’s the only guy you’ve even been mildly interested in at school,” Nancy says. “How many others have asked you out? Six? Seven?”

“I didn’t give a shit about any of them,” you say with a laugh. “Most of them were assholes who just wanted to get laid. And the others - which were probably like two of them - I only saw as friends.”

“I mean, I’m not mad about it,” Nancy says. “This way I’m not the only one who isn’t going to the clubs on Fridays and Saturdays.”

“You could still go, you know. Just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean you can’t go out dancing with friends.”

“I know that,” Nancy answers. “But it would feel weird. All those guys are looking for are hookups, like you said. It’s like a meat market in there.”

“So, you see why I don’t go,” you say.

“But you don’t have a boyfriend,” she says.

“And I don’t want one who I’ll meet when he starts grinding on me from behind at some sleazy, disgusting club.”

“Fair enough,” Nancy says with a sigh.

You turn your head on your pillow so that you’re looking at your friend beside you.

“Do you really think I’m too mean to these guys?”

Nancy frowns at the timidity in your voice.

“You haven’t been mean to any of them. I’ve only ever seen you politely decline. Do I think you should give one of them a try every now and then? Yeah. You never know what you could be missing.”

“I know.” You sigh and turn your head back to stare up at the ceiling. “I just haven’t felt anything for any of them. I want to feel something when I look at a guy. Or think about him. But in my mind, the thought of going out with any of them seemed more boring than sitting through ten of Professor Carter’s lectures.”

Nancy chuckles at that.

“Well,” she says. “Damn Ben for having a girlfriend then.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh as you nod along in agreement.

“Damn him.”

It almost seemed impossible to you how conventional and simplistic Thanksgiving was at the Wheeler household. The way that Mike and Holly argued over the remote control, Holly wanting to watch the parade, and Mike - just being a typical annoying big brother, you think - wants to hog the remote to watch what he wants. How the baby of the family gets her way and sits in front of the television, watching the large balloons being escorted down the streets of New York City. That Ted Wheeler falls asleep in his chair before the parade ends and bangs and clinks come from the kitchen as Karen preps for the big dinner. This all only happened in movies, as far as you had been concerned.

Thanksgiving growing up consisted of loud drunk neighbors, the smell of burnt cooking exuding from the apartments around you, and possibly a home cooked dinner of spaghetti if your mom felt like it that year. Normal family traditions were something you never got to experience, and just getting to see them firsthand was enough to make you emotional. Of course, Nancy notices, but she would never say anything. She just tries to include you as much as she can with small, mundane tasks like helping Karen in the kitchen or setting the table with Mike.

Dinner itself was a whole new experience. A family all sitting down together, sharing a meal, and talking to one another while doing so. You could count on one hand the times your mom would talk to you as you both ate frozen dinner entrees that had been heated in the microwave. Karen apologizes more than once about her children bickering back and forth, but you enjoy it more than she could understand. It’s all so odd and appealing to you, this dynamic. A nice suburban house with the white picket fence and family dog barking at the children playing in the yard has always seemed like such a faraway thing that would elude you forever. But seeing it up close and personal, you realize how badly you want this.

After dinner is the first time you really get to spend with Mike, both of you sprawled out in the basement after too much turkey, eyes heavy with sleep from feeling so contented and full. Nancy insisted you had helped plenty and could go downstairs while she finished helping her mom clean up. Mike said he’d show you some of his D&D stuff, which Nancy groaned about and said not to bore you with. But you were honestly intrigued and tried to follow along as Mike explained how the game works. Neither of you could keep focus for long though, both wanting to crash on the comfortable furniture down there as the tryptophan from the turkey kicked in.

Mike tells you about life at Hawkins High, about his friends that you’re meeting tomorrow, and how they’re all considered nerds and geeks. You could relate on some level, as you’d been picked on for not having the best clothes or accessories as you didn’t have as much money as the other families of the students. Nancy comes down to join you and puts some Blondie on the stereo - to Mike’s annoyance - as the three of you let the food comas control your bodies for a while.

Homemade pumpkin and apple pies are served for dessert a few hours later, complete with a scoop of ice cream and a generous helping of whipped cream. The family then all gathered in the living room to watch It’s A Wonderful Life, a tradition Karen tells you that happens every year. She calls it the official end of Thanksgiving and beginning of the Christmas season. You’ve never seen the movie before now, and Nancy notices how happy and relaxed you are as you sit next to Holly on the couch and watch the classic black and white film. Her heart aches as she realizes how she’s taken these holidays for granted her whole life, not thinking about how fortunate she really is.

When you and Nancy get ready for bed that night, bellies full of delicious homemade food and hearts all warm and fuzzy from sharing the things you were thankful for at dinner, she takes a moment to give you a big hug, making sure you realize how thankful she is for you. If it makes you tear up slightly before she pulls away, she can easily pretend not to notice.

Friday afternoon is full of messes and giggles as you and Nancy prepare dishes to bring with you to Steve’s house that evening. Most everyone would be bringing leftovers from their family Thanksgivings the day before, but Nancy knew that once Mike got ahold of the food there wouldn’t be much leftover to bring.

The green bean casserole gets in and out of the oven without issue, but once Mike smells the pumpkin pie you made baking, Nancy has to physically push him out of the kitchen.

“You’re coming later,” Nancy reminds him. “You can eat it then.”

As the two of you get ready for the dinner, you find yourself fidgeting more than normal. The blue sweater you put on is soft and you find yourself rubbing the material through your fingers over and over. The dainty golden heart necklace you wear becomes something to fiddle with as you prepare your makeup. Nancy must notice your nerves, as she offers to do your hair for you.

“Relax,” she tells you as she gives your hair a finishing puff of hairspray. “We’re really all a weird bunch.”

“So, I’ll fit right in,” you say with a small, nervous smirk.

“You really will,” she assures you with a smile.

On the drive to Steve’s house, your nerves somehow dissipate. The ride through the small-town calms you. Seeing children all bundled up and playing with one another in their yards. Neighbors walking their dogs together through the colorful leaves adorning the sidewalks. It’s simple and peaceful, something you’d only ever seen in movies.

The house you pull up to looks larger than the entirety of your apartment building back home. Granted, it’s a small apartment building, but still. The trees surrounding the two-story home give it a sense of mysticism, yet the dark exterior keeps it modern.

There are already a few cars parked out front as Nancy pulls in behind one in the driveway. She kills the engine, and you follow her out of the car and up to the front door. You’ve met Steve, and like him, so there’s no anxiety about seeing him. But you know the other people in there are Nancy’s favorite people in the world, so it puts some unintended pressure on.

Nancy doesn’t bother knocking or ringing the bell, just opens the front door and casually strolls in. It tells a lot about the relationship the two have, and it makes you smile as you follow her over to a small coat closet near the door.

“Hey! Thought I heard your car pulling up.”

Steve smiles as he approaches the two of you. He helps Nancy out of her coat and takes yours as well, maneuvering them onto hangers in the closet. Nancy leans down to unlace her boots, and you bend down to unzip yours.

Voices can be heard coming from the other room, and it sounds like quite a few people are already there. Steve closes the closet door behind you as you struggle with your zipper. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a shadow enter the entryway as you manage to get the zippers down on both of your boots.

“Hey,” you hear Nancy greet the new person in the room.

You stand up straight, ready to kick the unzipped boots off your feet, when you look up and lock eyes with the man standing a few feet in front of you. His dark brown eyes stare right back at you, gazes locked on one another like you’ve both frozen in time. Behind you, Nancy and Steve look at each other from the corner of their eyes, both cracking a smile as you two just continue to stare.

The mysterious boy has a mass of curls that fall to his shoulders, almost as brown as his eyes. He’s wearing a long-sleeved black t-shirt with a denim vest layered over it, covered in colorful patches. He’s tall and slim, and light glints off the silver rings adorning most of his fingers. One side of his mouth tugs up in a smile, the only motion either of you makes.

“Um,” Steve says once he can’t take it anymore. He steps forward so he’s equidistant between you two. His eyes dart back and forth, not knowing which of you to address first. “Eddie, you remember me telling you about Nancy’s friend?”

Eddie. The name runs through your mind and forces a smile on your lips. It fits him. And suddenly it’s the best name you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, eyes still glued to you.

“And this is Eddie,” Nancy says as she comes up beside you. She places her hand on your arm and nods her head at the curly haired boy. “One of my friends from high school.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you manage to get out.

“Why don’t we go inside?” Nancy says, tugging on your arm gently. “We can all talk in there.” She notices you haven’t finished taking your shoes off yet and knocks her knee against yours to get your attention. Steve joins in her attempts to help break you and Eddie out of your trance and puts his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, giving him a light shove in the direction of the living room.

Reluctantly, your eyes break contact with his as you look down to step out of your shoes. Nancy nudges them over alongside hers before guiding you along behind Steve and Eddie.

The spell that had come over you is broken as loud and rambunctious younger teens shout at one another, some hanging off couches, some sprawled out on the floor, and some moving from place to place. You spot Mike on a couch, arm around who you assume is his girlfriend, as he went to spend time with her earlier in the day.

Your eyes search for Eddie, but you’re startled by a girl coming up to you and giving you a big, toothy grin.

“Hi! Oh, I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so nice to meet you!”

“Robin,” Nancy says with a laugh. “Don’t scare her.”

“Sorry,” Robin says with an apologetic wince.

“No, it’s okay,” you assure her. “Just a lot of new people.”

“Mike, we forgot the food in the car,” Nancy calls to her brother. “Can you go get it?”

“What? Why me?”

“Oh, come on,” another boy says as he hits Mike on the chest.

“Thank you, Will,” Nancy says pointedly.

“So that’s Will,” Robin tells you as the boy walks by. He gives you a kind smile and a wave before he ducks out of the room, Mike right behind him. “That’s El, Mike’s girlfriend. She’s sitting next to Jonathan. And the ones arguing over there are Dustin, Lucas, and Max.”

“Who is who?” you ask, looking at the three kids bickering with one another.

“Dustin’s in the hat,” Nancy says.

“Ginger is Max,” Robin adds.

“Tall one is Lucas,” Nancy finishes.

“Remember all that?” Robin asks.

“Maybe,” you say with a chuckle. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“How do you like Hawkins?” Robin asks.

“It’s cute,” you tell her. “Much different than Boston.”

“Oh yeah,” Nancy agrees.

“Here.” Mike stalks into the room and shoves the container holding the green bean casserole at his sister.

“Such a gentleman,” Robin says.

Nancy accepts the dish from him with an eye roll. Will walks in with the pumpkin pie and you take it from him with a thank you. Nancy leads you into the kitchen and balances the casserole in one hand while opening the oven with the other. She slides it in to heat it up, making room for it next to the other dishes inside.

“You can just put the pie in the fridge,” she tells you.

The refrigerator is fairly full, but you manage to find a place to fit the tin in. Nancy comes over and yanks a bottle out of a cabinet next to the fridge.

“Want a glass?” She holds up the wine bottle to show you as she grabs two glasses.

“Sure,” you say.

Nancy pops the cork out with ease and pours a serving for each of you. The red wine flows like life’s blood and you can practically taste the dry fruitiness already. She hands you a glass and you clink them together before taking a swig.

“Oh,” Nancy says as she lowers the glass from her mouth. “I forgot to ask Steve something. I’ll be right back, okay?”

She sets her glass down as you nod at her. Left alone, you lean back against the counter and take another sip of your wine. It’s a large, white kitchen, decorated in an array of plaid and checkered patterns. There are so many cabinets and shelves you can’t imagine what they all hold.

“Hey, Nance, where can I - oh.” Eddie stops short in the entryway when he sees you standing there alone. A smile lights up his face and you blush at the sight. “You are not Nancy.”

“I am not,” you concur.

He slips his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans and sidles up next to you. Arms crossing over his chest, he leans against the counter next to you.

“Welcome to the circus,” Eddie says, gesturing to the next room where you can still hear a cacophony of young voices going back and forth.

“It’s cool that you all keep in touch after high school,” you say. “I could tell you where maybe five people are that I went to school with. The rest? I couldn’t give a damn.”

“I feel that way about most of our school,” Eddie says. “These are the few good ones. Course, the kids are still in school. Robin’s going to Hawkins Community College and Steve and I are just working stiffs now.”

“What do you do?” you ask, taking another sip of your wine.

“Work at a garage downtown,” he tells you. “Nothing fancy, but it pays the bills.”

“I know all about that,” you say. “I work at a coffee shop. I come home smelling like hot chocolate every day.”

“There are worse things to smell like,” Eddie says with a smile. “Once I got gasoline on my shoes and I swear, I smelled like it for a week, no matter how much I showered.”

The image of Eddie in the shower invades your thoughts and you take another gulp of wine to hide the flush on your cheeks. The urge to drop your eyes down to his arms and chest is appealing, but you manage to restrain yourself.

“You keep drinking that quickly and your blush is only going to get worse.”

The way you choke on your wine makes you fear that some of it is going to shoot out of your nose. With your hand over your mouth and nose, you cough as some of the wine goes down the wrong way. Eddie reaches over to pat your back a few times, only adding to the heat on your face. You notice he’s smiling at you, but it’s not in a mocking or patronizing way. It’s as if he thinks you’re cute and the thought makes your head buzz more than the wine.

“You okay?” he asks.

“M’good,” you squeak out through a cough.

“Want some water?”

All you can do is nod in response. Eddie turns to grab a cup from a cabinet next to the sink and fills it up halfway. You take it without looking him in the eye and take a couple of swigs.

“Better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say, throat recovering from the burn. The accursed dirty mind you have makes you think there’s a way I’d like him to make my throat burn.

“Good,” he says.

He opens his mouth to speak again when Nancy comes back into the kitchen. Her eyes go from you, to Eddie, back to you again. She raises an eyebrow and you’re unsure if it’s because of your red face, Eddie’s smirk, or if she can feel the tension in the air.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Fine,” Eddie tells her at the same time that you say, “Yep.”

She doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t press any further.

“Eddie!”

A shorter boy with dark curly hair tucked under a blue and red baseball cap walks into the kitchen, head swiveling to find his friend.

“Right here,” Eddie says.

“There you are,” Dustin, if you recall correctly, says. “Will you come tell Lucas that he’s an idiot?”

“Um, hello,” Eddie says, nodding his head towards you. “Manners, dude.”

“Oh, shit,” Dustin says with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry. Hi, I’m Dustin.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “You’re the one who Steve’s adopted, right?”

Dustin’s laughter rings out in the kitchen.

“Sometimes it feels like the other way around, but yeah,” he says.

“Steve and Eddie share custody now,” Nancy says.

“Don’t make me his co-parent,” Eddie says, shaking his head.

Steve pops his head in the kitchen and rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, you guys.” He walks over and slings his arm over Nancy’s shoulders. “Leave me with them out there.”

“Isn’t Robin out there?” Nancy asks.

“She joined the argument, whatever it’s about!”

“Lucas is saying that in Star Wars-.”

“Nope,” Steve says, cutting Dustin off. “I don’t want to hear about your little nerd wars.”

“Come on,” Dustin whines. “You liked Return of the Jedi.”

“No, he liked Leia in the gold bikini,” Nancy corrects.

“The one with the teddy bear things?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, the Ewoks,” you say.

All heads turn to you and a grin grows on Dustin’s face.

“I didn’t know you liked Star Wars,” Nancy says.

“All we ever do is talk, how did this never come up?” you ask with a chuckle.

“Are you a nerd?” Eddie smirks at you and pokes your arm.

“A little,” you say with a shrug.

“Read The Hobbit?” Eddie asks.

“Alright, I’m leaving,” Steve says. He presses a kiss to Nancy’s head and turns to head out of the kitchen. The oven timer dings though, and Steve stops in his tracks.

“Dinner’s ready, Dad,” Dustin says.

“Shut up. Go tell the others to sit at the table.”

“Wait,” Nancy says, and everyone stares at her. “Um, I mean, Dustin and I will get the others. You guys help Steve get the food out.”

“Okay,” Dustin drawls, narrowing his eyes at Nancy.

She nudges Dustin out of the kitchen ahead of her as Steve yanks the oven door open, letting the heat and savory scents of the food waft out into the air. It’s a mishmash of dishes as Steve pulls them out one by one, setting them on the counters around him.

“Okay,” Steve says. He closes the oven and turns it off. Putting his hands on his hips, he spins around and looks at the different foods. “We’ve got vegetables, we’ve got turkey, potatoes, breads.”

“Cranberries?” Eddie asks.

Steve snaps his fingers and nods. “In the fridge.”

“I’ve got it,” you say.

Steve loads up Eddie’s arms with food before piling himself up. You scoop up the dishes that are left and follow the guys into the dining room. Nancy and Dustin had called everyone in to eat, and most of the seats are already taken. All that’s left are the seat at the head of the table, for Steve, and two seats situated between Nancy and Will. The way Nancy avoids your eyes as you set the food down on the table tells you that the two chairs left for you and Eddie aren't just a coincidence.

Eddie makes no secret of his happiness that you’re sitting near one another as he grins brightly and pulls out your chair for you. You slip into it and meet Nancy’s too-innocent eyes as Eddie sits down next to you. If Steve’s wise to the setup, he shows no hint of it while he cuts pieces of turkey to be sent around the table.

“Stuffing?” Eddie offers.

“Yes, please.”

He doles some out on your plate before serving himself, tongue peeking out of his lips the whole time. Bowls are handed across the table, plates passed back and forth from one friend to another, but eventually everyone is settled with their full plate in front of them.

The girl named Max sits across from you and she glances up at you between bites of turkey. You give her a smile that she tentatively returns.

“Well, damn,” Eddie says from next to you. “I knew Red for over a month before I got a smile out of her.”

Max scowls at him as she shoves a forkful of mashed potatoes in her mouth.

“I have a good sense about people,” she says once she’s swallowed her food. “I like her. I was never sure about you. Still not.”

“Hardy har,” Eddie answers but Max cracks a smile at him.

“Should we do that thing?” Robin asks the whole table. Everyone turns to her, most brows furrowed in confusion.

“Ah yes, Robin,” Steve says. “That thing.”

“You know,” Robin says. She gesticulates with her hands, crumbs of stuffing flying off her fork in the process. “Where we say what we’re thankful for.”

Mike and Lucas groan in tandem as Dustin drops his head into his hands.

“We’re not eighty years old, Robin,” Steve says.

“Oh, come on,” Robin says. She looks pleadingly at everyone, widening her eyes and jutting out her bottom lip.

“Why not?” El asks.

You notice everyone seems to have a harder time saying no to El than they do Robin, and Steve shrugs in reluctant agreement.

“I’ll start,” Robin says, unsurprisingly. “I’m thankful that Steve got promoted to manager at Family video.”

“Why are you thankful for that?” Mike asks.

“Because it means Keith doesn’t work there anymore,” Steve says. “And she won’t get in as much trouble if she clocks in late.”

“Still thankful,” Robin says with a shrug. She leans back in her seat and nods at Jonathan next to her.

“Oh, um,” Jonathan says, shifting in his chair. He looks uncomfortable with all the attention on him. “I’m, uh, I guess I’m thankful that we moved back to Hawkins.”

The game goes around the table until it gets to Eddie.

“Shit, there’s a lot I’m thankful for this year,” Eddie says with a chuckle. There are some murmurs of laughter in agreement around the table and you feel like an outsider for the first time tonight, not being in on some joke or knowledge. Eddie quickly takes notice of this and licks his lips. “I think I’ll go with two things, though. One, finally graduating.” Dustin and the other younger boys break into applause at this, which Eddie halts by waving a dismissive hand at them. “Two, I’m thankful Nancy brought this lovely lady over for dinner.”

Eddie turns to look at you, his smirk and statement making you blush yet again. You weren’t someone who blushed easily, and somehow this adorable metal head had managed to make it happen twice within a single hour.

“Well, you stole my answer,” you tell him with a shy smile.

“Yeah?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you. He rests his arm along the back of your chair and leans just slightly into your space.

“Yeah,” you affirm.

You miss the way Max’s eyes go to Nancy, who is grinning at the pair of you, then move to Steve, who shrugs at the redhead and rolls his eyes as if saying what’re you gonna do?

“You’ll just have to give another one then,” Eddie says.

He watches you as you squint one eye closed and pucker your lips together as you think. With your gaze not solely locked on him, you don’t see the way his eyes dart down to your lips. But Nancy does.

“Can I just say I’m thankful for Nancy in general, then? Because I wouldn’t have been able to stand being at school without her. And she was kind enough to bring me home with her to meet her family and all of you.”

There’s a collective “aww” around the table as Nancy leans over and wraps an arm around you, leaning her head against yours.

“Well, I’m thankful you decided to do your laundry in the middle of the night just like I did. Or this might’ve never happened,” Nancy says. “And I’m thankful for being able to make long distance with Steve work so well.”

A smile lights up Steve’s face and you’re struck again with how cute these two are with one another.

“You’re the last one to go, Stevie,” Robin says. “Lay it on us.”

“Well, I’d be in complete trouble if I didn’t say Nancy, right?” he asks, throwing a wink and smirk her way. “I’m just kidding. Well, not about Nancy, about being in trouble for it. Because I am thankful for Nancy.”

“Anticlimactic,” Robin says with a sigh.

“Are we done?” Max asks. “Please?”

“Yeah, that only took up the whole dinner,” Mike adds.

“Oh, please,” Nancy calls down the table to her little brother. “Like you actually paid attention to what a single person said.”

Eddie leans into whisper in your ear. “I’d say we’re not always this crazy, but that’d be a lie.”

“Are you kidding? I would love to have a group of friends like this,” you tell him. “The crazier the better.”

“Oh, well then you’re definitely in the right spot,” he tells you.

Steve begins to gather empty plates from the table, and Eddie is right behind him, sliding yours on top of his as he stands up.

Nancy shoos you from the kitchen, saying that you aren’t allowed to help clean because you’re their special guest. So, you find your way back into Steve’s living room, where those who aren’t helping to clean are spread out around the room, either talking or listening to the music that Eddie’s turned on the radio.

“Queen, hmm?” you say as you walk over to stand near him.

“Yeah, I figured they’re a band everyone would be happy with,” he says as Killer Queen begins over the speakers. “Wouldn’t be my first choice, but they’re pretty good.”

“And who on earth could you possibly hold in higher regard than Queen?”

“Metallica, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden,” Eddie starts, but you cut him off.

“So, basically any metal band?”

“Pretty much,” Eddie says, putting his hands on his hips. “Best type of music, if you ask me. But I do also like Queen.”

“Good,” you say. You plop down on the nearest empty couch and Eddie follows to sit right alongside you.

“I’m guessing Queen is your favorite?” he asks, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.

“They are,” you tell him. “Freddie Mercury has one of the greatest voices of all time.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Eddie says. “Who else do you like?”

“A lot, actually. From Queen, to Beatles, to Elvis, to Madonna, to Black Sabbath, to showtunes.”

“Showtunes, huh?” Eddie asks with a smirk.

“I will take no disrespect of Stephen Sondheim,” you warn him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. “Mostly because I have no idea who that is.”

You laugh and the sound brings a light to Eddie’s eyes. They crinkle in the corners as he looks at you and it’s enough to make your heart stutter in your chest.

Across the room, unbeknownst to you and Eddie off in your own little world, Nancy and Steve walk back into the living room.

“Damn, she and Munson are really hitting it off, aren’t they?” Steve asks, making Nancy giddy with happiness.

“Steve, you don’t get it,” she tells him.

“I know. I never thought I’d see a girl take such a shine to Munson so quickly.”

“No,” Nancy says with a shake of her head. She watches the two of you converse on the couch, him laughing at something you said, before she grabs Steve’s arm and pulls him to the side of the room.

“There have been like, at least twelve guys who have asked her on dates back at school,” Nancy tells him. “Out of those, she probably agreed to three. And from those three dates, I think she had a second date with one of them. That’s it.”

“I’m gonna need more context clues to get me where you want me to go,” Steve says, shrugging in confusion.

“I’ve never seen her actually be interested in a guy. Well, one, but he had a girlfriend, so it didn’t last long. She’s told me besides her one boyfriend in high school, she’s never clicked with or had real feelings for anyone before. But this!” She gestures to you and Eddie in your own little bubble on the couch. “It’s huge! You don’t know her like I do, but trust me, this is huge.”

“Okay,” Steve says, getting the hang of it. “And what about Eddie?”

“I’ve never actually seen him have a crush on someone before. Have you?”

Steve shakes his head and holds his arms out to the sides helplessly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him talk to a girl that’s not in this room,” he says.

“I think he likes her,” Nancy says with a grin that could only be called devious.

“Hold on, Yente,” Steve says, startling Nancy.

“Was that really a Fiddler on the Roof reference?” she asks.

“I manage a video store. Pretty sure I’ve seen every video in there at least twice. So, yeah. But you’ve got to slow your roll on the matchmaking. She’s going back to Boston with you in two days.”

Nancy sighs and folds her arms over her chest.

“I know,” she admits sadly. “But they’re so cute.”

Steve rests his hands on Nancy’s shoulders and gives them a small massage.

“They are,” he agrees. “I don’t think Eddie would mind if you spent the rest of the semester talking him up to her, though.”

It feels like you’ve only been talking to Eddie for ten minutes, but when the whines from Mike and Max come that they’re hungry and want dessert, it shocks you to find out that it’s been hours since you’d all finished dinner.

Dessert goes much quicker than dinner, and with more efficiency. There was the pumpkin pie that you and Nancy had made, an apple pie that Will and El had baked, some cookies Max made, and cupcakes that Robin says she picked up on clearance on the drive over. Everyone wants to sample a bit of everything, but it’s hard since you’d all had a hardy meal just hours ago. Once you’re one vanilla cupcake and a slice of pumpkin pie deep, Eddie offers to split a piece of apple pie with you. He smothers it in whipped cream and hands you a second fork so the two of you can dig in together. You laugh when Eddie uses his pinky finger to put a dab of a glob of whipped cream on the tip of your nose. You go cross-eyed trying to look at it - which makes Eddie laugh - and try to stretch your tongue up as high as it would go to clean it off. You’re unable to do it though, so settle for wiping it off using your hand with a sigh.

Though you don’t have the room left, you swipe one of the last of Max’s cookies so you can have officially tried one of everything. After your first delicious bite though, you realize there’s no way you’ll be able to finish it. You slump back in your seat with a groan, the waistband on your pants threatening to suffocate you. Tilting your head to the side, you see Eddie in an almost identical position. He eyes the cookie in your hand and opens his mouth.

“Really?” you ask with a laugh.

He just nods, keeping his mouth open. You feed him the rest of your half-eaten cookie. He licks over his lips as he finishes it, then let’s out a groan to match your previous one.

No one feels the urge to talk or move from the table as you’ve all been re-stuffed. The music that’s still playing on the stereo in the living room drifts in over the silence of the dining room, and you smile to yourself as one of your favorite Billy Joel songs plays. It’s a comfortable atmosphere, the silence not awkward, just content as everyone basks in their food comas.

Dustin is the first one to break the silence, which seems to surprise no one.

“We’ve got to do the secret Santa,” he says.

“Shit, where’s the hat with the names in it?” Steve asks, slumped down in his chair.

“I think I saw it in the living room,” Will says. He forces his way out of his seat with a strained groan, and shuffles into the other room. He returns holding an upside-down Santa Claus hat that rustles when he shakes it.

“Oh, um am I..?” you trail off, looking at Nancy.

She nods. “I put your name in there. I figured you could always ship your gift and your gift can get shipped to you if you’re not here for Christmas.”

You haven’t even thought about what your plans would be for Christmas this year. It wasn’t usually a pleasant time of the year for you and college had distracted you from the fact that you’d have to be at home for the holiday. It sounded about as appealing as walking back to Boston from Hawkins, butt naked.

Will sits down with the hat and places it on the table in front of him.

“Should I start?” he asks.

“Might as well,” Dustin says. “Remember the rules. You can’t pick your own name. And you can’t pick a sibling because you’ll probably be forced to buy them something anyway. Oh! Also, no couples,” Dustin says, eyeing Steve and Nancy before Max and Lucas. “We all know you’ll be buying each other things too.”

“We got it, Henderson,” Steve says. He gestures to Will. “Let’s get it going.”

Will draws the first name and smiles to himself. He’s careful not to look at anyone around the table as he slips the small piece of paper in his pocket. He slides the hat over to El, who in turn draws hers. She frowns when she sees the name and replaces it to pick another one. The hat travels along the table, with Mike also having to select a second name, and ends up at Nancy. She selects her rolled up paper and holds it close to her chest so she can read it. She chuckles and holds the paper in her lap as she slides the hat over to you. You reach in and pull out the first scrap of paper your hand touches. Copying Nancy’s movements of holding the paper close, you take a look at who you’ve drawn. “Max” the paper reads. Nodding to yourself, you slide the hat down to Eddie, who has the final pull from the hat.

“Good thing I don’t have the sibling or girlfriend option here since I’m drawing the last one,” Eddie says as he sticks his hand inside. “As long as it’s not me, we’re good.” He peeks inside the little white paper before folding it up and putting it in his jacket pocket. “Not me. We’re good.”

Dessert is also an easier clean up, so Nancy lets you help this time around. It only takes a few minutes, then you’re strolling back into the living room, where your hand is quickly picked up by someone coming up alongside you.

“Hi,” Eddie says with a smile, as if it’s been a while since the two of you spoke.

“Hi yourself,” you respond as you adjust your hand in Eddie’s grip. His hand is strong and warm, and you can feel the gentle rub of calluses. He leads you over to a different part of the living room than where you were before. There’s a small nook towards the back of the room, where someone could sit and look out of a pale stained-glass window into the backyard. Today was so cold though, that the window was frosted over, giving a romantic feel to the small area.

Eddie sits down on the cushioned seat and pulls you down right along next to him. You’re sitting hip to hip, knee to knee and he still hasn’t let go of your hand. The colder air closer to the window is all the excuse you need to lean into Eddie’s side. He also takes the chill in the air as an excuse to wrap his arm around you, tucking you even further against him. You let your cheek rest against his shoulder, and it doesn’t take long until Eddie rests his head against your own. The silence is companionable as Eddie rubs his hand up and down your arm.

After a few minutes of sitting this way together, Eddie dips his head down to press his lips close enough to your ear that you can feel them brush your skin as he whispers to you.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks.

“Mmm,” you hum in confirmation, eyes staying closed. From his angle he can’t see the smile you’re fighting to keep off your face.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Moisture instantly gathers behind your closed eyes at his words. You blink a few times to expel them before you tilt your head up to look at him face to face.

“Is that so?” you whisper back.

“Cross my heart,” he replies.

This time the smile doesn’t stay off your face, no matter how hard you try.

“You’re an incorrigible flirt, Eddie Munson.”

“How can I not be? Usually, I’d have to take the time to psych myself up to flirt if I had just seen you around town. But no time for that when you’re leaving soon.”

He pouts adorably at the way his words cause a frown on your face.

“Nancy did tell you that you guys have to go back, right? Or was this really a kidnapping ploy all along?”

You giggle and it brightens Eddie’s whole face. It also gives him the courage to lean down and press his lips softly against yours. You gasp into the kiss, not expecting it, but quickly compose yourself enough to kiss him back. He pulls away just a little and it gives you the opportunity to sit up straighter, giving the two of you a better angle for your next kiss. He delves in and cradles the back of your head with his hand, the other snaking around your waist. One of your hands cups Eddie’s cheek as you kiss him and the other rests firmly on his chest.

Eddie’s tongue swipes across your top lip and you don’t hesitate in opening your mouth to him. His arm around your waist pulls you impossibly closer to him until you’re half on his lap, the kiss getting deeper by the moment. In many ways, it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. Not only is Eddie a talented kisser, but you can feel the emotions behind the kiss as well. Eddie slides his hand from the back of your head to cup your jaw, tilting his head to kiss you at a slightly different angle. There’s longing there, it’s melancholy and addictive. He tastes like the pie you shared mixed with cigarettes and taste that could only be explained as Eddie.

Your fingers tighten on his shirt, bunching the black material into your hand. The hand that was on his jaw has snaked around to bury itself in the curls at the base of Eddie’s neck. He manages to maneuver both of you so he’s lounging back against the cushions of the seat, and you’re on top of him, chest pressed to chest, and legs tangling together as you let out a soft moan against Eddie’s mouth.

The sound only encourages him, his kisses becoming more impassioned and messier. Not that you mind. You’d be happy if he spit in your mouth, but you figured that wasn’t something he needed to know on day one.

Sense of time is all but gone and you’re only reminded that there are other people in the room - albeit on the other side of it, with you two not directly in view of them - until someone, by the sound of it, Robin, starts speaking at a volume way too high for indoors. She starts to babble on and on, voice raising with every statement she makes. Both you and Eddie find it amusing, as you pull away from one another’s mouths with small laughs commingling in your shared breath.

Eddie reaches up and tucks a piece of hair that’s hanging in your face behind your ear.

“In case you haven’t realized,” Eddie says softly, keeping you two in your own private moment. “I really like you.”

“Well,” you say, still trying to catch your breath. “In that case, I hope you’ve noticed that I really like you too.”

The grin on his face makes your labored breaths even quicker as his eyes gaze into yours. You rest your forehead against his and let your eyes fall closed.

“Can I see you again before you leave?” Eddie whispers.

Leaving now sounds like the worst possible thing you could endure. Boston is a great city, and you love almost every aspect of it. The food, the sports, the people, the weather. But it doesn’t have Eddie.

“Yes,” you answer him. “We leave Sunday afternoon. Steve is taking Nancy and I out for breakfast before he takes us to the airport. Would you maybe want to come?”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

Loud clapping hands come up behind you and the quiet intimate moment you’ve been having with Eddie dissolves around you.

“Okay, lovebirds,” Robin says. “Time to get a room. Preferably the guest room at the Wheeler house.”

“We don’t have a guest room,” Nancy says. “She’s bunking with me.”

“Sorry, Eddie,” Robin says. “That means there’s no room for you on that bed.”

As everyone says goodbye for the night, you stand a little off to the side. Sure, you’d become one of the gang over the course of the evening, but that still couldn’t touch all the history and familiarity that the others had with one another. You get hugs from most everyone, including an unexpectedly tight one from Max. Will tells you repeatedly that it was so nice to meet you and you understand why Nancy was so excited to be with this group of people. They’re all kind, caring, and most obviously of all, they’re all so dedicated and loyal to one another.

Steve gives you a hug that’s just as tight as he’s given everyone else, and it could bring tears to your eyes how included you feel. You take a deep breath before you give you your final goodbye of the night. Eddie wraps you in his arms and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. His arms feel so secure around you and the warmth that you feel when you nuzzle your head into his neck is enough to make your heart burst.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” he asks.

“Soon,” you confirm.

He presses another kiss to your lips before reluctantly letting go.

Mike is crashing at Lucas’s tonight, so it’s just you and Nancy on the drive home. Nancy has barely shut the driver’s side door before she’s turning to you with the look of a cat that’s about to pounce.

“I have never seen you like that!” she gushes at you.

You shrug, glad for the dark night outside to hide your reddened face. She starts the car and pulls out of Steve’s driveway, but the conversation isn’t over.

“You guys were so cute,” Nancy says. “You like him?”

Looking out the passenger window at the dark trees that go past, you smile so Nancy can’t see it.

“I really like him,” you admit.

Nancy coos over your admission as she pulls out onto the main road in Hawkins.

“I could tell!” Nancy gloats. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.”

“You weren’t very subtle at all, forcing me to sit next to him at dinner,” you tell her.

“Are you complaining?” she asks.

“No,” you admit bashfully.

“I didn’t think so.”

“I asked him if he wanted to come with us to breakfast with Steve on Sunday. Is that okay?” you ask.

“Of course,” she assures you. “He’s a great guy, really.”

Nancy pulls her car into the driveway and you both enter the house quietly; Holly and her parents having already gone to bed. You gather your pajamas out of your suitcase and tell Nancy you’re going to take a shower when the shrill ringing of the phone on her nightstand makes both of you jump. She quickly grabs the receiver before the noise can wake anyone in the house up.

“Who the hell,” she mumbles to herself as she looks at the clock, reading almost one in the morning. “Hello?” she asks. There’s a pause and Nancy rolls her eyes as she listens. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

You giggle quietly to yourself as you watch her become exasperated. Clothes clutched to your chest, you gesture down the hall to let her know you’re headed to the bathroom. She nods at you as she listens to the person on the other line.

The hot shower invigorates your skin that had grown dry in the cold autumn air. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you let the warm water run down your skin, relishing in the relaxation and calming aroma of the minty shampoo. As your fingers work through your hair, you recall the feeling of Eddie’s hair in your hands. The soft curls at the base of his neck you toyed with as you kissed. Thoughts begin to churn in your mind of Eddie joining you in the shower, but you don’t want to turn this into a cold shower, so you try not to let your mind wander down that path.

Using the towel to wring the excess water from your hair, you make your way back to Nancy’s room in your pajamas. The oversized t-shirt and plaid bottoms were so comfortable that you could hardly wait to curl up in bed. But when you walk into her room, Nancy hasn’t pulled the blankets down or even changed into her own pajamas. She’s changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt, so comfy clothes, but not ones for sleep.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“Guess who was on the phone?”

You’re about to admit that you have no clue, but with the way she raises an eyebrow at you, you think you get the idea.

“He didn’t,” you say with a laugh.

“Oh, he did. Wanted to know if he could come over,” she tells you.

“What?” you ask, just as there’s a knock on Nancy’s window. It startles you, but Nancy seems to have been expecting it.

“Your Romeo,” Nancy says, her head nodding to the window as she goes over to open it. She slides the glass up and Eddie stumbles in, landing clumsily as he trips over one of his own boots. Nancy shakes her head at him, and he spins around to face you, eyes instantly lighting up and an infectious smile curling his lips.

“What are you doing?” you ask as you walk over to him. You wrap your arms around his middle, the cold air sticking to his leather jacket making you shiver.

“Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair as he presses kisses to the top of your head. He quickly sheds the jacket, not wanting to make you cold, then retakes you in his arms, the warmth of his red flannel giving you the intended warm effect.

“You saw me an hour ago.” Your face is smooshed up against his chest, but he understands you anyway.

“I know. An hour,” he says. “And you’re leaving soon so I wanted to spend all the time with you I could.”

“He gave me the same speech,” Nancy says from behind him. “He’s lucky I’m a romantic and caved.”

You peek around Eddie to give her a grateful smile, which she returns with a wink.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she says. “But I will be back.” She gives a pointed look to Eddie as she heads out the door, closing it behind her.

You hop onto Nancy’s bed and open your arms for him, which he happily falls into. He climbs on the other side of you, kicking his boots off as he goes, and tucks you against his side.

“I like your pajamas,” he says. “They’re cute.”

Burying your face in his chest, you nuzzle your nose against his sternum.

“Didn’t expect company, so I dressed for warmth,” you say.

“Cold?” he asks, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

“Not really,” you say. “But keep holding me like that.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

You tilt your neck up, pressing soft kisses along his jaw. His hand rubs up and down your side and your body fills with a warmth that has nothing to do with the temperature.

“Can I ask you something?” you whisper against his skin.

“Anything,” he answers.

“What did you mean before?” Your fingers play with the hem of his flannel as you run the tip of your nose up to behind his ear. “At dinner. When you said there’s a lot for you to be thankful for this year.”

His body shifts underneath you and you pull back to look at him. He avoids your eyes as he adjusts his grip around your waist. You rub your hand over his chest, leaning down to press a kiss against his collarbone.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you say, sensing his mood change. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no,” he says, shaking his head. He lets out a sigh and presses his lips against your forehead. “It’s just a long, shitty story.”

“If you want to tell me, I’ll listen,” you assure him.

This makes him smile and he leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

“Okay,” he whispers against your lips. “I’m going to start off by saying I’m innocent though, okay? Just to preface this fucked up tale.”

You nod even though your brow scrunches up in concern. Not that you don’t believe him, but it hurts to hear that he was wrongly accused of something.

“There was this girl at school,” he starts. “Her name was Chrissy. She was a cheerleader, queen of the school. One day she asked to talk to me, which was weird in itself.”

The frown on your face is involuntary as you picture - what you can only assume is a pretty - cheerleader all over Eddie. He notices the look and runs his thumb over your pinched forehead as he lets out a soft laugh.

“Aw, are you jealous, baby? Don’t be. It was nothing like that. I mean, in complete honesty I did have a crush on her in middle school, but that was forever ago.” He presses a kiss to your now relaxed forehead before continuing on. “I used to sell drugs at school, and she wanted some pot. So, I told her when and where I’d meet her for the deal. When the time came, she was all jumpy and seemed paranoid. I tried to calm her, and it worked a bit, but she ended up asking if I had anything stronger. I didn’t with me, because I wasn’t stupid to be busted on school grounds with anything harder than weed. There was a basketball game that night and I had a hellfire meeting - you know, the D&D club I told you about after dinner. Anyway, so I told her I’d take her back to my place afterwards and I’d get her something then.” Eddie chuckles as he feels you tense up in his arms at his last statement. He presses soft and sweet kisses down the side of your face. “Can I just say that I love how you’ve only known me for a few hours and are already jealous at the thought of another girl alone with me?”

You huff playfully and hide your face in his neck. It only causes him to laugh again, and he moves his hand up and down your back reassuringly. He lets out a sigh though, as he goes on to continue his story.

“This is where it gets weird,” he says.

Nancy pushes open the door then and both of you look up as she enters. She gives you a small smile as she creeps back into the room, shutting the door again behind her.

“I’m just telling her about Chrissy,” Eddie explains.

“Oh?” Nancy asks, raising her eyebrows so high that they meet her wet bangs. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about it.”

He shrugs and squeezes you in his arms.

“Just going over the important parts anyway,” he says, and a look is shared between them that escapes your notice.

Nancy nods and climbs up on the bed, resting back against her footboard and tucking her legs up underneath her. Eddie continues his story, Nancy interjecting in places that Eddie wasn’t present for, like their friends trying to find where Eddie was hiding. She talks about how she spoke with Eddie’s uncle and how after that moment she had no lingering thoughts whatsoever that Eddie could have murdered their classmate.

“Wait, I’m a little confused,” you say when they’ve finished their story. “So, you guys went to find who the real killer was, Eddie, you got hurt, and Nancy, you knocked the guy out of a window? But he escaped? Then how were you cleared?”

“Um, there wasn’t enough evidence,” Nancy says. She clears her throat before continuing. “They eventually caught the real killer, but we have a friend in the police station. El’s dad, actually. He was able to take a harder look and proved that Eddie couldn’t have done it.”

“So, I was cleared. And healed, thankfully. If Dustin hadn’t gotten my ass to the hospital so quickly, I wouldn’t have made it.”

You squeeze Eddie in your arms and rest your head on his shoulder.

“So, you meant that you were thankful you were okay and that you were cleared?” you ask, bringing it all back to your original question.

“Yeah,” he tells you. “And thankful I had these friends around me to help me out.”

“That’s so scary,” you say. Eddie and Nancy share a look above your head, knowing you don’t know the half of how scary it all actually was.

“But it’s over,” Eddie says as he lays his head on top of yours. Your fingers tighten in his shirt and Eddie feels like he could cry from the relief that rushes through him at the gesture. He hadn’t realized how terrified he was that you would think badly of him after the story, or even worse, think he truly was guilty. His body relaxes against yours and you press your lips to his shoulder, leaving him smiling against your hair.

You bring your hand up to your mouth to cover a yawn and Eddie looks at the clock on Nancy’s nightstand. “Shit, I guess I should let you guys get some sleep. The sun’ll be up any minute now.”

He slips out of your arms and off the bed. You follow behind him as he makes his way over to the window.

“Thanks for letting me come over, Nance.”

She nods her head at him as she slips under the covers. “Don’t make a habit of it,” she says with a playful smile.

He gives her a salute before looking back at you. He takes both of your hands in his and brings them up to his mouth, kissing over your knuckles.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” you agree as you raise up on your toes to press your lips against his.

Eddie kisses you softly, letting go of your hands so one can cup your cheek while the other pulls your body closer to his. Too soon, he pulls away and opens Nancy’s window. The frigid air blows in and you pick Eddie’s leather jacket up off the floor, handing it back to him. He slips it on and presses one last kiss to your lips before he ducks outside.

“Bye, beautiful,” he says.

“Bye.” You smile at him as he closes the window behind him and scoots down the slope of the Wheeler’s roof.

Saturday it was planned for the Wheeler family to take a trip a few towns over where there was a big holiday festival happening. The whole town was decked out in red and green, and the chill in the air added to the festive spirit. Mike was initially grumpy about being picked up from hanging out with his friends to spending time with his family, but he ended up happy he came after a video game that he desperately wanted was on sale at the local mall. You and Nancy shopped for some new clothes there as well, and you joined the family for lunch at a cute diner right in the mall’s parking lot. From there, you all visited the outdoor skating rink where you taught Holly how to skate, and she ended up being able to skate faster than either of her older siblings.

Once the sun went down, you grabbed some hot chocolates to go and headed back to Hawkins for a family movie night tucked up in the house. Holly fell asleep before the end of the second movie, her hand clutched in Nancy’s and her head on your shoulder. Mr. Wheeler carried her to bed and Mike broke out a box of gingerbread cookies that Karen had tried to hide from him in the back of the pantry.

It was a fun day, but Eddie had been on your mind for the entirety of it. You pictured modeling the clothes that you had bought for him, or him holding your hand as you skated around the rink. When you and Nancy headed up to bed, she joked that there would be no middle of the night visitors tonight, and you both fell asleep quickly.

Sunday morning you were brimming with excitement to see Eddie, but your heart melted at the tears Karen and Holly shed as they hugged Nancy goodbye. They’d see her in a few weeks for Christmas, but it just showed how much they loved her. Each member of the family hugged you goodbye, even Mike seeming heartfelt as he did so. You’d miss being around this domestic type of setting. The nuclear family wasn’t something you were terribly accustomed to, but you had enjoyed every moment of it.

The doorbell eventually rings, and Steve is ready and waiting there to help you and Nancy get your bags in the car. You notice a certain someone with a curly mop of hair in the passenger seat and a grin splits your face as Eddie climbs out of the car. He scoops you up in his arms and hugs you tightly before assisting Steve with the bags. The guys take you to a cute quaint restaurant on the way to the airport, and Eddie refuses to let go of your hand the moment you both step out of the car. You look through the menu with one hand, not moving your laced fingers from his grip. It proves hard to eat though, with only one hand, so you begrudgingly let go of each other.

“What’re you doing for Christmas?” Steve asks you as he swallows a bite of his blueberry pancakes.

“Probably nothing,” you say with a shrug. “I’ll probably end up driving back to New Hampshire to my mom’s place, but I don’t even know if she’ll be there. Hopefully I’ll get to see my niece, though. She’s my favorite person in the world.”

“How old is she?” Eddie asks.

“Almost eight,” you tell him. “Her and my sister live like an hour away from us.”

“I’m sure she’d love to see you,” Nancy says. She knows the shared love you and the little girl have for one another.

Eddie steals a piece of bacon off your plate and your jaw drops open.

“Excuse you,” you say. “I’m going to need a bite of waffle as repayment, thank you very much.”

Eddie happily obliges and holds up a piece of his waffle speared on his fork to your lips. You bite it off and hum appreciatively as you chew it.

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Steve says as he watches the pair of you. “It’s almost insane how you just met.”

It doesn’t seem like you had just met, though. The way you clicked with him so instantaneously was something you’ve never experienced before, and you know Eddie hasn’t either. You moved so naturally with one another it was as if you’d grown up together. Fate wasn’t something you particularly subscribed to, but it was hard to think of this thing with Eddie as anything else. How many things needed to line up just right so you would meet him?

Breakfast doesn’t last long enough, and you feel yourself dragging back to the car when it’s time for the final leg of the journey to the airport. Eddie sits in the backseat with you this time and you rest your backpack in his lap as you rummage through it, looking for a pen. Once you succeed, you pull out a scrap of paper and start scribbling on it.

“Here,” you say, handing it to him. He takes it from you, and you slide the backpack off his lap. “The top one is the number to my dorm room. I have a bitchy roommate, so I apologize in advance if she ever answers when you call. The number underneath it is for my apartment in New Hampshire. I won’t be there until Christmas break, but I wanted to give it to you now anyway.”

Eddie grins as he looks at the paper. He folds it carefully, like it’s a precious artifact and not a scrap from a homework assignment you had earlier in the semester.

“She hides from her roommate in my room, too,” Nancy adds with a smirk. “So, if she’s not in her room, get the number to mine from Steve. But not at one in the morning!”

Steve raises his eyebrows at the look Nancy gives Eddie over her shoulder.

“Wait, what?” he asks.

“You’re not the only one to scale my house anymore,” she tells him.

“You did what?” Steve looks at Eddie in the rear-view mirror with an incredulous expression.

Eddie shrugs innocently as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“I had full permission,” he tells Steve.

Steve parks his car along the curb at the airport and none of you are eager to get out. People bustle outside, lugging suitcases here and there, saying tearful goodbyes to loved ones, or rushing to catch a flight they’re running late for. You never thought you’d feel so sad returning to school. You had looked forward to escaping there from home for as long as you could remember that it seemed odd to have a place you’d rather be.

Nancy’s the first one to break the seal, pushing her door open, the rest of you following her lead. Eddie unloads your bags from the trunk and Nancy slings her duffle bag over her shoulder as you slip on your backpack. Steve hugs you goodbye first, and you thank him for the ride and for having you over the other night. He assures you it was his pleasure, and it doesn’t just seem like a polite response; it seems like he means it. Nancy hugs Eddie goodbye as well, before launching herself in her boyfriend’s arms.

“Shit, I’m going to miss you,” Eddie says. His arms slip around your waist, and he pulls you flush up against him.

“Me too,” you say, placing your hands on his chest.

“I don’t think I’ll give you much of a chance to miss me,” he says. “You’re going to get sick of me calling.”

“I can guarantee you that won’t happen,” you say with a smile.

“You underestimate me,” Eddie says, making you laugh. “Fuck, I love your laugh.”

You blush under his gaze, amazed at how he can make it happen so easily. He presses his lips firmly against yours and your arms wind their way around his neck. His hands snake up the back of your coat and it takes all your willpower not to say, “screw school” and get back in the car with him.

Reluctantly needing air, you both pull back and Eddie rests his forehead against your own.

“I’m really glad I met you,” you tell him quietly.

“So am I,” he says. “Have a safe flight, okay?”

You nod and press one last kiss to his lips. You try to memorize the way they feel against your own and how his callused hands feel over your shirt. The scent of cigarettes is not something you ever would have thought you’d enjoy, but now you never want to be without it surrounding you.

“Bye, beautiful.”

The pressure behind your eyes starts and you feel silly for getting so emotional over leaving someone you only met two days ago. No one has ever made you feel the way Eddie does though, so you allow yourself the grace to just feel what you’re feeling.

“Bye, handsome.”

Pulling out of his arms, you pick up your suitcase and head towards the building with Nancy. Both of you stop right as you're about to enter and give one last wave to the guys. Steve blows Nancy a kiss and Eddie winks at you as he waves in return.

With a deep breath, you hike your backpack up higher on your back and follow Nancy into the airport.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #WTHI

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usedtobecooler · 2 years ago

Note

(I know you don't write for Steve but this just came to me) What about Steve teaching virgin!reader how to blow virgin!Eddie?!

Pairing | Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), handjobs, blowjobs, inexperienced virgin reader, inexperienced virgin eddie, experienced pushy steve, awkward boners, bullying, mutual pining.

Word Count | 2.8k

A/N | i've never written for steve before and i took this and ran with it lmao, i hope i did your prompt justice!! if any of you see any mistakes, no you didn't, this wasnt proof read.

Eddie and Steve's relationship had always been odd. You'd noticed it from the first time you'd ever hung out with them, when Robin had dragged you along to meet her friends. You hadn't known her for long, but Robin was loud and unabashed and adamant you had to come hang out with her outside of work.

When you'd first clapped eyes on them both, you noticed the air seemed thick between them. The way they'd bite at each other constantly, bicker and call each other names, the way Steve's eyes would linger on Eddie's lips a second longer than what would be deemed appropriate.

It seemed like a constant fight for dominance, especially when the kids were around. A battle of who Dustin loved more, who Mike looked up to more, who Max harbored a secret 'big brother' liking to more. It was a constant game, and you wondered if they even liked each other.

Then, sometimes, they'd be sweet with each other. Steve would knock Eddie back with a gentle hand when he was about to stumble over a curb, Eddie would grab Steve a burger even when he said he wasn't hungry. Steve would even help him set up the D&D table, he didn't understand what it was about and never played, but he'd help anyway. Even when Eddie bitched that the way he did it was wrong.

So, it was weird. The more time you spent together, the more you found yourself being sucked into the dynamic unwillingly. Robin said she could tell Eddie had a crush on you, which made you blush -- he was cute, and surprisingly really nice despite the hard exterior, but Steve caught onto it pretty quickly and used it to his advantage during their bickering.

You'd walked in on them arguing about you one day, when they clearly thought they were alone. You stood behind the doorway, eavesdropping;

"What would she want with you, Munson? You're a twenty year old virgin, trust me she's not interested."

"Oh yeah? As opposed to what, exactly? The town slut? As if you're any better than me because you've fucked every girl our age."

"At least I didn't jizz in my pants when she gave me a hug."

"That didn't fucking happen, and if you tell her that I'll kill you."

"Ooh, scary."

The admission of Eddie being a virgin was unsurprising, chicks weren't exactly queuing up outside his trailer to fuck him. But, he was pretty, like devastatingly so. Once you got to know him he was a great guy, smarter than he made himself out to be and nothing like the people of Hawkins claimed he was.

The next time you all hung out together, three joints deep and a bottle of scotch being passed around, you made a point of also admitting to being a virgin, to make Eddie feel better. Steve had stared at you open mouthed and flustered, Eddie had choked on his gum, Robin had watched it all unfold and let out a loud barking laugh.

You'd hoped that it would settle Eddie's mind and maybe get Steve to back off and stop hounding him about it, particularly in front of you.

And now, how you ended up in this situation is fully Robin's fault and she'll get told that when you next see her. Her and Nancy had bowed out of your designated movie night ungracefully, claiming to be slammed with babysitting Holly at last minute, but you knew better.

The three of you were crammed up on Steve's bed, and you're wondering why he and Eddie willingly chose to sit next to each other, so close their arms were squashed together and their legs knocked. You were watching The Lost Boys, at Steve's adamance, because apparently it was the horror movie of the year, but you begged to differ, nothing exciting had happened yet.

It gets to a sex scene, and you awkwardly shuffle from where you're sat next to Eddie, cheeks burning hot as you avert your eyes from the screen. Neither of them notice, enamored with seeing a pair of tits on the screen like a pair of twelve year olds.

Your fingers accidentally brush Eddie's own, and you shoot back like you've been scalded, "Sorry, Eddie." You whisper quietly, settling back into your pillow with an inch of space between your bodies for safe measure.

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, which catches Steve's attention, making him turn away from the screen to look at you both, eyes flitting back and forth. Then, a scoff escapes him, "Trust you to pop a boner at a pair of fucking tits, Munson."

You furrow your brows, glancing down to where Steve's eyes wandered and oh. Eddie was hard, straining against the loose plaid pyjama pants that he always wore when you guys hung out at night, refusing to buy a pair of sweatpants.

Eddie's face is flushed a dark red, you can see it as clear as day from the glare of Steve's TV, "Fuck off, Harrington. They're a nice pair of tits."

"You're such a virgin, you want some help with that?" Steve wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and you think it's meant to come out as a joke but the way Steve says it seems anything but. He looks at you over Eddie's shoulder, motioning towards him, clamping a hand down on his leg, "Don't you think it's about time he got touched by something that wasn't his right hand?"

You flounder a little, unable to form proper thoughts at what Steve is insinuating, "What do you mean? That I should help him with that? I'm the unwilling third party here, keep me out of your homoerotic bullshit."

"We could both do it, silly. Was it not totally obvious that he's got a massive crush on you?" Steve shrugs like it's nothing, and you feel Eddie tensing up next to you, can see his cock straining further in his pants out of the corner of your eye. In that moment it clicks for you that they're both into this, have probably been waiting a while to find themselves in this situation, with you specifically.

"At this point I think you have a crush on him, you're so obsessed with him it's hilarious." You snark, leaning forward a little until you're crowded back in Eddie's space, hands bumping each others, "What do I get out of this, exactly?"

Steve looks you up and down, a cute grin gracing his face, "Trust me, you can have anything you want."

You chew on the inside of your lip, genuinely thinking about it. Did you really want your first time doing anything sexual with another person to be in a threesome? You clench your thighs at the thought, a wave of heat flushing through your body at the thought of being touched by four hands at once, two mouths.

You wonder how Eddie feels, he's uncharacteristically quiet. You hazard a glance back down, and Eddie has his hand clamped over Steve's own on his thigh. So, yeah, clearly he's into it too.

"Aw, c'mon, don't you want to show the freak a good time?" Steve asks, a smirk overcoming his features — it's disgustingly attractive, a far cry from the usually sweet Steve you knew when Eddie wasn't around, but it did things to you, made your tummy clench.

"Steve, I've never done this either... you know that," You pull your bottom lip with your teeth, chewing anxiously. It's not as if Eddie had anything to compare you to, you were both a pair of bumbling touch starved virgins, but you didn't want it to be bad for him, either.

"Harrington, if you don't stop rubbing my thigh I'm gonna cum in my pants," Eddie's voice cuts through the air, loud enough to knock you out of your trance and making you look up at him, taking in just how disheveled he was already from the merest touch.

"I'll show you how to do it," Steve says, completely ignoring Eddie's protests, never taking his eyes off of you as he brushes his hand up Eddie's thigh even higher, knocking his clothed hard dick with the back of his hand. Eddie hisses, Steve grins and lets out a cackle, "Won't take much, anyway, not if this is anything to go by."

"I am right here," Eddie balks, throwing his hands up in the air. Steve shushes him, shoving into Eddie's space like an eager puppy to grip at his pants and pull them down his thighs.

Of course Eddie doesn't wear underwear under them, why would he? His cock springs out, flushed and hard, the tip a pretty pink colour that makes your mouth water, a small amount of precum blurting out of his slit.

"You guys good with this?" Steve double checks, Eddie whines a little, which is enough of a reply for Steve. You don't even reply, batting Steve out of the way with one hand and wrapping your other one eagerly around the base of Eddie's dick - which to your delight elicits the prettiest little moan from his mouth.

"Eager little thing, isn't she?" Steve smirks at Eddie, which in return has you rolling your eyes and Eddie nodding his head fast. You slide your hand up the length of Eddie's cock slowly, shocked by how your fingers don't even wrap around it fully, all girthy and nice to touch.

"Right, you've not got enough lube for your hand to glide properly, here," Steve leans forward, mouth just mere centimetres away from Eddie's dick, and he lets out a glob of spit onto the head.

"Fuck, what the fuck," Eddie's words comes out erratic, eyes wide as he watches Steve spit all over him without a care in the world, like this was normal and something 'bros' did. Your hand squeezes the base of his cock a little to focus his attention back on you, hand sliding up to rub in the mess of Steve's spit and get him all nice and wet.

"There you go, see? Much easier." Steve's cocky demeanor is starting to diminish, you can tell by the way his voice comes out softer as he watches your skin connect with Eddie's, the slick slide of your fist up and down his cock. You feel Steve's large hand ghost over your lower back, under your shirt. You gasp quietly at the touch, the burning heat of his skin on yours making you shiver.

"Does this feel okay?" You ask Eddie quietly, ignoring what Steve just said because what the fuck would he know, it's not his dick being touched.

"Feels good, sweetheart, cross my heart." Eddie's cheeks are tinged rouge red, neck veins popping a little as he clearly struggles not to blow his load. You can see Steve looking back and forth between you both with curious eyes, smile still on his face, clearly enjoying watching a pair of virgins going at it like a creep.

"Do you want me to use my mouth?" You ask tentatively, cocking your head to the side as you keep eye contact with Eddie to try and gauge how he feels. It's meant to be innocent, comes out dirty. Dirty enough that Steve's hand moves to grip at your waist slightly, a soft sigh escaping him.

"You'd like that, right Eddie?" Steve's smile is sickly sweet, but you can tell he's starting to fold because he's using Eddie's real name, not his last name or a stupid nickname. Eddie nods silently, eyes shutting and head thumping back against Steve's plush headboard.

You slide down the bed quietly, shuffling until you're nestled in between Eddie's spread legs at an angle that meant you could just lean forward and slide your mouth over his length, "Tell me what to do then, genius."

"Take your hand off him, I'll do that, you just put your pretty mouth to use," Steve's slender fingers move yours out of the way until you're releasing Eddie's cock, his own large hand wrapping around the base and squeezing, making Eddie whimper.

Steve guides Eddie's dick over to rub the tip over your closed lips, smearing precum all over them. Your tummy clenches, ridiculously turned on by what you're doing, unable to stop your mind racing. You feel dizzy, like this is a dream you'll wake up from any moment.

"What're you waiting for? Wrap your lips around the head, give it a try." Steve's demanding, his voice firm with you, so you lean down and close the distance, opening your lips and sinking down onto the head, hot mouth engulfing Eddie's cock.

"Jesus Christ, fuck," Eddie cries out, can't help but open his eyes to look at you, has to see what you're both doing. The sight of Steve's massive fist around his cock, jerking it lightly into your mouth, you sucking and licking at him - he's teetering on the edge dangerously fast.

"Feels good, right?" Steve chuckles a little, looking between where his fist and your mouth meet and Eddie's blown out, wide eyes, "She didn't even need any help, knew just what do on her own like a good girl."

You and Eddie both moan in unison, the vibration on Eddie's cock enough to have his hips bucking up wildly, which in turn causes Steve to reach his free hand out and push him down onto the bed harshly, "Don't cum yet, Munson. Don't be a little bitch."

Eddie chokes out a little sob, whining at Steve being mean to him. It makes his body run hot, the coil in his tummy tighten. You glance up at him, mouth still full of his cock, just to make sure he's okay, and the bit of eye contact has Eddie losing it.

"Sorry, fuck, sorry, I'm cumming," Eddie grips at a chunk of Steve's meaty thigh and he comes with an embarrassingly loud yelp, Steve's hand tightening as he jerks Eddie's cock into your open, willing mouth, swallowing his release down like you'd done it a million times before.

You kitten lick at the head until Eddie shakes with sensitivity, popping off with a little grin, "You good? Back down to earth yet?"

Eddie smiles dumbly, saluting at you with two fingers, body completely sagged into Steve's plush sheets, flaccid cock still out, "Alive but barely."

You clamber up the bed, the sudden urge to kiss him overtaking your body. You fist a hand in his messy curls, pulling him up to kiss you. Eddie wraps an arm around your back, kissing you all sloppy, teeth and tongue, to an outsider it probably looked gross, but it was so hot to you that you wanted to cry.

You break apart to catch a breath, forehead to forehead with wild eyes and stupid little smiles on your faces. You ache with how much you like Eddie, a love for him overtaking your whole body. Steve clears his throat at your side, pulling you out of your trance, making you turn to look at him.

He's got a firm hand gripped into the arm of Eddie's shirt, you can see his own cock tenting in his loose sweatpants and God, it's big and intimidating, even through his clothes.

"Don't be greedy, share it with me," Steve closes the space between you both and smashes his lips onto yours, licking into your mouth expertly to swipe over your tongue. You moan into the kiss, cunt clenching at being used in this way. He kisses more firmly than Eddie, more sure of himself, it's nice in a different way.

Just as you're getting lost in it Steve pulls away, a whine dying in your throat when you open your eyes to see his face gliding closer to Eddie's, and then they're kissing too. Steve grapples for your waist with closed eyes, tugging you even closer to them both.

They're animalistic with each other, like they're both angry and filled with pent up rage. Eddie grips a hand in Steve's mane of hair, has him groaning into the kiss that's all teeth and grunting. You watch through hooded eyes, unable to take your gaze away from them, wetness pooling in your pretty underwear at the sight of them both.

A whine escapes you, the noise filling the air and cutting off their kiss, both of them looking at you with differing gazes. Steve looks like he wants to pin you down and fuck you into oblivion, Eddie looks like he's in love. Steve sits up a little, grabbing at you and Eddie with every free bit of his big hands, fingers roaming unabashedly.

Steve glances at you both, a smirk back to gracing his features, "If you think I'm done with you two yet, you're sorely mistaken."

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sailortongue · 3 years ago

Text

You Callin' Me a Liar?

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie tells the boys that he has a girlfriend, but they don't believe him. eddie vows to make them eat their words

wc: 2.5k

part 2

——————

“No can do, boys. I’m driving my girlfriend home today.” The freshmen had barely gotten the question out when Eddie shot them down.

“Girlfriend?!” exclaimed Dustin. “Since when do you have a girlfriend?!” To say he was shocked was an understatement. His eyebrows shot all the way up to his hairline and his jaw might as well have been on the floor.

“Dude, if you don’t want to drive us then just say that,” said Mike.

Eddie looked at the boy incredulously. “You callin me a liar, Wheeler?”

“I mean, not in those words…” Mike quickly looked down, uncomfortable with the glare that Eddie was directing at him. The dungeon master was usually pretty chill, but god he could be intimidating.

Eddie scowled before staring at the other two boys, “And what about you two? You don’t believe me either?” The look on Dustin’s face was answer enough, as was Lucas’ awkward smile. “Just you three wait. I have the most gorgeous girl in Hawkins High and I’m gonna prove it.”

“Yeah, right,” started Mike before looking over at Dustin and Lucas. “Next thing we know he’ll be telling us his ‘girlfriend’ is a cheerleader, too.”

“As a matter of fact, she is,” huffed Eddie. If he was being honest with himself, it kind of stung how none of the boys believed he was capable of being in a relationship.

“Whatever you say, Eddie,” said Dustin placatingly, obviously still believing Eddie to be lying so he didn’t have to drive them home.

“Y’know what, I’m gonna bring her to Hellfire this week and all of you will eat your words.”

——————

Hellfire wasn’t for another two days and Eddie was becoming more and more short tempered at constantly being the butt of the joke at the table. Not a single one of his friends believed him. This is what he gets for not wanting the relationship to be public. He’d been so worried about how the rest of the squad would treat you if they knew, but he didn’t even consider how his friends would react, especially without proof.

“So, Eddie, which one is it? It can’t be Chrissy since she’s dating Jason, and Kelly is with that Daniel guy. Is it Lisa?” teased Gareth. After that, the rest of the guys started taking turns poking fun at him, trying to guess the cheerleader that Eddie was supposedly dating.

“No.”

“Jennifer?”

“No.”

“Beth?”

“No.”

“Yn?”

Your name obviously caught Eddie’s attention, the rest of the table erupting into a cacophony of shouts and laughter that couldn't be distinguished from one another.

Jeff’s voice cut through the noise, still laughing, “Dude, there’s no way you got a girl like Yn Y/l/n to go out with you. She’s, like, the golden girl of Hawkins High. It’s been a fun joke, but I can’t even entertain it anymore.” His broad smile was a harsh contrast to his words. Jeff didn’t realize it, but Eddie was both offended and hurt by his words.

You were at your usual table with the rest of the squad when you saw your beloved boyfriend storm out of the cafeteria. A frown tugged at your lips, wondering what had upset him so much. You waited a few minutes before excusing yourself from the conversation to go after Eddie, knowing exactly where you would find him.

He was already at the picnic table when you arrived. He had his head in his hands and his back to you. “Eddie?” you called out. He lifted his head and turned to you. “Yeah?” he croaked.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You approached the table and sat next to him, pulling his head into your lap. He sighed, “It’s the guys. They think I’m lying about you.” He was full on pouting now. You knew he was upset but damn he was cute when he did that.

You gazed down at him and smiled, running your fingers through his hair, “So what? At the end of the day I’m still your girlfriend, whether they believe it or not.” Your words finally got a smile back on his face as he sat up and pulled you next to him, pressing his lips to yours in a brief kiss before pulling back. “Thanks, sweetheart. You still comin’ to Hellfire this week?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you said with a cheeky grin. “Can’t let the party think their dungeon master is a liar, now can I?”

“Oh, but of course not. My honor will be restored and the princess of Hellfire will put her subjects in their place.”

“Princess of Hellfire? Eddie, they’ve never even met me,” you chuckled, Eddie joining you. His theatrics had always been a source of laughter for you and oh how Eddie loved the sound. When the laughter died down the two of you were left in a comfortable silence until Eddie checked his watch and hissed. “What is it?” you asked.

“Lunch ended 10 minutes ago.”

——————

One day to the Hellfire meeting and the club was still not dropping the subject. The three freshmen had finally told the others that Eddie planned to bring you this week, and they were determined to hold him to it. Not that he had any intention of backing out.

“So, Eddie, why don’t you tell us about her? Since y’all are dating you should know all about her, right?” Lucas was being a bitch and the whole table knew it was intentional. He was trying to get under Eddie’s skin and it was working. “So, how did you meet?”

Eddie remained silent, opting to ignore the nosy question in favor of eating his lunch.

“Oh, c’mon, man. Just answer the question,” chimed Gareth.

Eddie huffed, practically throwing his fork onto his plate. “We met at a music store. She was looking for some Ozzy and I helped her out. Got to talking about music and we hit it off. Turns out we listen to a lot of the same stuff.”

“You really expect us to believe a prep listens to the same kind of music you do? You sure you didn’t dream this?” said Lucas skeptically, his expression one of total disbelief. The rest of the guys murmured in agreement.

“First Wheeler and now you’re callin’ me a liar, too?”

“Look, man, no one’s calling you a liar right now,” objected Dustin. “ We’re gonna wait to see if she shows up to Hellfire.” He glanced around the table at each of the club members, “Right, guys?” There was a chorus of half-hearted acceptance. Not wanting to go too far and piss off Eddie even more, the subject switched over to complaining about classes and teachers and annoying classmates.

——————

Today was the day. You were finally going to join Eddie in one of his Hellfire meetings. You were nervous about making a good impression. You knew how important the group was to him and you were terrified that they wouldn’t like you. He’d nearly laughed at your concern when you brought it up during one of his late night visits, but was quick to reassure you when he realized you were serious.

“Sweetheart, you are the most amazing person I know. You’re sweet and talented and you have great taste in music,” he comforted, voice taking on an airy quality as he leaned in closer to you, lips brushing but not quite connecting. “And we can’t forget how you look in that cheer uniform, especially that little skirt.” He’d laughed against your lips before finally melding his lips to yours. The lazy kiss quickly turned heated as he dragged his hand down your side to grip your hips, pulling you onto his lap. He withdrew to leave a trail of kisses down the column of your throat before finding the spot he was looking for; the spot that made you gasp out his name so prettily.

He brought his sinful mouth up to your ear, biting and sucking all the way back up your neck and nipping your earlobe before whispering, “You couldn’t be any more perfect unless you were God himself.” He placed one more chaste kiss against your lips before resting his forehead on yours. “You have nothing to worry about, I promise.” That night, you fell asleep with Eddie’s arms wrapped around you. He was gone when you woke up, of course. If either of your parents saw you sleeping with a boy in your bed, they would have blown a fuse.

The school day was dragging and your nerves were making it worse. Despite Eddie’s reassurance, you still had your doubts. By the time lunch rolled around you were practically shaking with anxiety, so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Chrissy calling your name.

“Yn!” she said loudly, finally gaining your attention.

Your head jerked up in her direction, “Yeah?”

Chrissy laughed at your distractedness, “Just wanted to let you know we’re practicing a new routine today. What’s got you so distracted?” You didn’t answer and she gasped dramatically. She leaned over the table and whispered conspiratorially “Is it a boy?!” You blanched. “I knew it!” she squealed, delighted that her best friend was finally showing interest in someone. “You have to tell me all about him!”

“Okok, but not here.” Eddie had been adamant about being hush hush with your relationship. He was so worried that you would be ridiculed just for dating him, and he didn’t want to see you go through the same torment he did. But Chrissy was your closest friend and there was no doubt in your mind that she would be over the moon for you as well as keep your secret. You got up from the table, Chrissy following suit, and led her to the girl’s locker room in the gym, which was thankfully empty.

Chrissy was immediately bombarding you with questions, too excited to wait for you to answer before asking another one. “So, what’s his name? What’s he like? Oh! Is he on the basketball team? I could get Jason to help set you up!”

You waved your hands in front of you, quickly denying her offer. “He’s not on the basketball team. He’s not on any team, actually.”

“No? Well, who is it then? C’mon, the suspense is killing me! Best friends are supposed to know everything, and you’ve been holding out on me!”

“Alright!” you wheezed out in between your laughter. “It’s Eddie…”

“Eddie Munson?” she said, stunned. You nodded in affirmation. She seemed to roll the idea around in her head before seemingly making up her mind, exclaiming, “You two would be so cute together! Have you talked to him?”

“Chrissy, we’re already dating,” you informed flatly.

“Oh my God, Yn, how could you not tell me?!” she whined. “You have to tell me everything, now.” She crossed her arms and tried to school her face into as stern an expression as she could.

“We met at a music store. I was looking for an Ozzy Osbourne cassette but I couldn't find one. Eddie was there and helped me out. We talked for a while about music and it just kinda went from there.”

“Aw, that’s so cute! We should totally do a double date!”

You looked at her like she had grown a second head. “A double date? With Jason and Eddie?” It dawned on Chrissy that there was a serious flaw in her plan: your respective boyfriends hated each other.

She let out a loud laugh and looked at you, smiling. “Wouldn’t that be something? Pretty far fetched, huh?”

“Yeah, no kidding. They’d be at each other’s throats the whole time.”

You and Chrissy spent the remainder of lunch talking in the locker room and telling her all about your plans with Eddie later. It was relieving to finally be able to tell her about him.

Meanwhile, Eddie was bragging up a storm at his lunch table. He couldn’t wait for the guys to meet you and especially couldn't wait to prove them wrong.

“Eddie, if you say one more word about her, you’re gonna be one party member short tonight, whether she’s coming or not,” warned Lucas. Eddie held his hands up in surrender.

“I still don’t think there’s any possible way you got with a girl like Yn,” said Jeff around a mouthful of food.

“Just you wait until tonight. You’ll all eat your words.”

——————

Hellfire had started 30 minutes ago and you were still nowhere to be seen. The guys were throwing him pitiful glances and whispering amongst themselves. They still hadn’t started the session, and it was clear that Eddie was on pins and needles waiting for your arrival.

Dustin was the first of the boys to give him the benefit of the doubt, “Hey, man, maybe she’s just running late? The cheerleaders practice after school, so she’s probably still in the gym.”

The others weren’t convinced, but it was enough to satisfy Eddie, who was no stranger to how hard you worked for the squad. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. So, what do you say, gentlemen? Ready to fight some monsters?”

——————

That new cheer routine turned out to be much harder than anyone was anticipating, and practice ran for much longer than it typically did. You were supposed to be at Hellfire 45 minutes ago. You didn’t bother to change out of your cheer uniform, rushing out of the gym doors, hoping that yelling bye on the way out was good enough. You ran through the corridors to the drama room, barging in without so much as knocking. “Eddie, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to be late but cheer practice ran overtime-”

“See, Eddie, I was right! Cheer practice!” interrupted a boy who could be no older than maybe 15 or 16. Eddie wasted no time introducing you, “Guys, I want you to meet my lovely girlfriend, Yn. Yn, this is the sorry bunch of freaks I play DnD with every week.”

You gave a small wave to the group. “Sorry I didn’t knock. Was in a bit of a rush,” you chuckled awkwardly, growing increasingly embarrassed by the open-mouthed stares of the boys. They recovered quickly when Eddie cleared his throat a little too aggressively to be genuine. Within seconds the room was filled with questions being directed at both you and Eddie, not that Eddie was answering any of them. He was too busy admiring you in your uniform.

He continued to ignore his club in favor of looking at you. When you finally turned your gaze back to him, he pushed his chair away from the table, an obvious indication of what he wanted. Without any hesitation, you made your way over and plopped yourself into your boyfriend’s lap, not caring about the club still being present. Eddie instantly wrapped his arms around your waist from behind to secure you as he nuzzled his face in your neck. You giggled at his actions before addressing the other boys, “I think you all owe Eddie an apology.”

#eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things x reader

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 years ago

Text

Eddie lives.

Just barely.

Steve and Nancy carry him out of the upside down, with the help of a sobbing Robin and a screaming Dustin. They get him out. They get him safe. They get him to the hospital.

The government clears his name. They clean up Hawkins as best they can. All while Eddie is in a coma. The doctors don't know if he'll ever wake up. Steve sits next to Wayne everyday. Waiting. They talk. Get close.

And almost 3 months later. Eddie wakes up. He smiles at Wayne, reaches for his hand with tears in his eyes. And once they're done hugging, his eyes land on steve. Full of confusion, his hands gripping Wayne's shirt tightly, his head shaking.

He doesn't remember.

Anything.

He remembers meeting Chrissy after school, taking her back to the trailer. And then nothing. Steve feels his chest ache, feels tears coming. He excuses himself quickly, and then he runs.

~°~

He hears about Eddie, through Dustin. He helps Eddie around school now, helps with his classes too. Eddie is different now. Quieter. Dustin tells him this. Tells him he really only seems like old Eddie when they meet for hellfire.

But Dustin also tells him that he's pretty sure Eddie thinks maybe he did kill Chrissy. Because people talk. The town talks. And no amount of hush money can make people less vindictive and awful. Can't make the way they call him a freak with more venom now than they ever did before, go away.

But the thing is. Eddie still sees so much. About people. About how they're feeling. If they're upset, and sometimes why they are. He's observant in a way that Steve has never been able to get used too.

And Dustin drags Steve and Robin and Nancy back into Eddie's orbit. Willing their closeness to bring their Eddie back. He gets closer with Dustin and Lucas than before. Even apologizes to Lucas unprompted, about how harsh he was about hellfire that day. Asks for his sports schedule to make sure they don't overlap again.

And Steve's chest keeps aching. Because Eddie has learned from the things he can't even fucking remember.

Dustin drags Eddie around them all. And Steve can't help the way he looks at him. Can't help the way he watches him. But every now and then. He finds Eddie watching him back. Both of them startling and looking away.

But Steve always glances back at Eddie, has to keep his eyes on him. He'd spent so much time in that hospital room, watching Eddie sleep, and not move, and be still and silent. And he'd hated it.

So he watches him. Watches him move. Watches him smile. Watches him hold up a move case to Dustin, a funny voice floating from behind it. It makes Dustin laugh and Steve smile. And Eddie sees it. Looks up and locks eyes with Steve as he watches them goof around the store, and he doesn't look away.

But steve does. He has too. Because there's no recognition behind Eddie's eyes. Not the way Steve wants there to be.

~°~

Three months later Lucas and Dustin show up at his door, looking worried. It's late friday night. Steve had to work so he couldn't pick them up from hellfire, but they were both still clutching their dnd manuals to their chests.

Steve doesn't even have time to open his mouth before dustin says,

"He's remembering." And Steve's heart flutters but he stays as calm as possible, lets the boys in.

"What do you mean he's remembering?" Steve asks, all of them falling into chairs and couches in his living room.

"The new campaign. It's got.... things. The bats. The vines. It's even got a creepy house." Lucas says, slowly, like he's afraid to tell Steve. Steve frowns, nods.

"There's other stuff too. There's a few characters, npcs, they're a lot like you and Robin. There's one that could be Nancy, with a stretch. But your's is... playing a big part." Dustin grimaces when he says it, and Steve's cheeks burn, maybe Dustin sees more than he lets on.

"What? What kinda part? And does he know? That it's me? That it's...that it's real?" Steve asks, his hands rubbing over his jeans roughly, his palms damp as he presses them against his thigh.

"We don't think so. Not really. But he gets this look in his eyes sometimes. When certain things happen. He'll look at us, me and Dustin, and it's like..." Lucas shakes his head, like he doesn't know how to describe it.

"It's like he's challenging us. To say something. To like- confirm the things he's saying? Like he knows that we know something. That we know it's real." Dustin swallows, hard.

"And then it passes. And he's back to normal DM Eddie. Just, doing his normal shit. It's- it's weird. There's something there. And we thought... maybe..." Lucas trails off, glances at Steve. His stomach drops.

"You thought what?" He asks, but he knows.

"We thought maybe you could talk to him." Dustin says, a cringy smile on his face.

"Why me?" Steve asks, but he's already thinking about what he'll say to Eddie. How he's supposed to talk about this.

Lucas shrugs,

"Because he seems fixated on you. Not in a weird way. Just... you're in the campaign. A lot. And he asked Dustin about you last week." Lucas says, looking to Dustin so he can be out of Steve's attention.

"He what?" Steve asks, eyes locking on Dustin, who glares at Lucas.

"It was nothing bad!!!" Dustin screeches, holds his hands up.

"He just... asked if you and Nancy were still dating. Had this confused look on his face, like he was trying to peice something together." Dustin shrugs, like it's nothing. Like his words didn't just completely shift Steve's world.

"I'll do it."

~°~

He goes to Eddie's the next day. Knows he'll be home. Wayne's been taking weekends off to spend time with him.

Wayne opens the door, smiles softly when he sees it's steve.

"Hey kid. Was startin to wonder if I'd be seeing you again." He says, his voice soft, but happy. Not accusing like Steve had been worried he might be. Steve sighs, smiles back.

"Hey Wayne. I uh... I was wondering if I could talk to Eddie? If he's around?" He shrugs, pretends they both don't know that Eddie doesn't leave the house much anymore. Wayne looks at him for a moment, really looks at him, and then he's smiling again and motioning for Steve to come inside.

"He's in his room. I'm gonna go for a walk. I won't be far. Holler if you need me." Wayne says, and steps through the door. Leaving Steve standing alone. He takes a deep breath and walks down the hall.

Eddie's sitting in bed, scribbling in a notebook in his lap. Steve clears his throat and Eddie's head snaps up. He sees Steve and shuts the notebook quickly, rearranges himself, sits up a bit straighter. But there's no look of confusion this time. Steve raises his hand, wiggles his fingers, hovering in the doorway to the bedroom.

"Hey. Can I come in?" He asks, and he's nearly whispering, not sure why.

"Hey." Eddie says, nods and waves for Steve to come into his room. He does. And then he stands awkwardly in the middle of Eddie's room, not sure what to do or where to go from here. Eddie snorts, and Steve's eyes jump to his face, find him smirking, just a little, his eyes full of amusement.

"You can sit if you want." Eddie taps his foot against the bed twice before pulling his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them and watching Steve as he sits across from him after kicking his shoes off. He sits cross legged, looking at Eddie look at him.

"So Dustin wanted me to talk to you." He says, apropos of nothing. Good start Steve. Eddie's eyebrows jump on his head.

"Dustin..." Eddie trails off, watching Steve. Steve nods, slowly. Can't seem to gage whether Eddie is fucking with him, or waiting to see just how much Steve will divulge without being prompted.

"About the new campaign. And some of the... stuff. You've been putting in it." He frowns, but Eddie's eyes flash dark for a moment, and Steve's sure this is the look the boys had mentioned. And like they said, it's gone in a flash.

"What about it?" Eddie asks, his voice a touch higher. Steve sighs, rubs at his face. He really should have brought Robin, or Nancy. He shouldn't be the one doing this. He pushes his hands through his hair and then finds Eddie staring at him.

"Can I ask you a question?" Eddie asks, his voice quiet. Steve blinks at him.

"It's a weird question. And I don't" he pauses, his face scrunching, like he's in pain.

"You can ask me. Whatever it is. It's okay." Steve assures him, has to curl his fingers into his pants to keep from reaching out to Eddie, wanting to sooth him. Eddie frowns, is silent for a moment before he looks at Steve.

"Were we-" he stops, shakes his head, his fingers pressing into his comforter by his foot.

"Were we... something?" He's frowning again, his head shaking gently as his eyes jump around and then land on Steve, he looks like he might be about to cry.

"Uhh... what do you mean by something?" Steve asks slowly. Eddie wraps his arms around his knees again, tucks his feet closer, presses his lips to his knee before he takes a breath.

"I keep having these dreams." He says, eyes on the bed between them.

"And you're in them. And it just feels..." he shakes his head again, sniffs, and Steve can't help it. He moves forward, curls his fingers around Eddie's ankle. Eddie sucks in a shakey breath, his eyes snapping to Steve.

"Feels like what?" Steve asks, softly. Eddie stares, his eyes watery.

"It feels so real. And then I see you. Here. With Dustin. Or at family video. And it just..." he shakes his head again,

"It just feels like I'm missing something. Until I see you. And then it feels... like I've found it. But.... not? Because we aren't. I mean we weren't.... were we?" He's frowning now, tears falling, and he looks so confused, and hurt. Steve licks his lips, shakes his head, slowly, and almost crumbles when Eddie nods, quickly, and looks away, pulls his ankle away from Steve.

"Yeah. No I figured. Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." Eddie looks so small, curls around himself, not looking at Steve.

"Eddie it's-" he doesn't know what to say, or how to say it. So he bites his lip, remembers the way Eddie smiled up at him in that fucking RV and decides to tell him the truth.

"We weren't. No. But I- I wanted to be. I just realized it too late." Steve watches as Eddie turns to him, slowly, his eyes wide. Steve shrugs, give him a sad smile.

"You- you wanted- with me?" Eddie's voice is high, disbelieving. Steve nods.

"Yeah. But I didn't make it back in time. And then you were dying. And then you didn't remember and I-" his voice breaks, tears blurring his vision, burning his throat, he clears it, tries again.

"I just thought it would be better to let you go. Get back to normal. I didn't wanna... push you. You needed to heal. So I just..." Steve moves his hand in front of him, gesturing to nothing, hoping Eddie understands.

"You stayed away." And of course Eddie does, get it. Steve smiles, huffs, shakes his head and wipes at his face. And then he sees Eddie's notebook pushed into view. Eddie holding it out to him.

"I didn't forget. Not really." Eddie says, nodding to the notebook, holding it until Steve takes it. He moves to open it, checks with Eddie first, looking at him, Eddie nods.

Steve flips the first page open and his breath catches. A tornado of demo bats fills the page. It's followed by pages of vines. Pages of Chrissy. Pages of Dustin, and Nancy, and Robin, Max and Erica.

All of them. Some of them in the RV. Some of them riding bikes. All of them littered with drawings of Steve. Steve in the boathouse, Steve being strangled by bats, Steve with blood in his mouth from killing said bats. Steve wrapped in bandages, and Steve wearing Eddie's vest. Pages and pages and pages of Steve.

He looks back, sees Eddie watching him.

"I've been dreaming about you. I dreamed about you in the hospital too. And as good as my imagination is, it's never been this good." He smiles a little.

"It just seemed so unreal. I mean... Steve Harrington? It didn't make sense." He almost laughs then, a breathy little sound as he shakes his head again. Steve snorts.

"Yeah. Trust me. I was just as surprised as you. Eddie Munson wasn't really something I was prepared for." Steve admits, smiles at Eddie.

"So you... what you like me?" Eddie asks, nose scrunching, rolling his eyes a bit.

"Yeah. Little bit. I just didn't get the chance to see if you liked me back." Steve shrugs. Eddie laughs then, and it sounds maniacal.

"What?" Steve huffs, his chest feeling lighter already, just the sound of Eddie's laugh after so long making him wanna smile.

"Dude. I've had an unfortunate crush on you since freshman year." Eddie sighs, rolls his eyes. Steve bites his lips, feeling himself going red.

"Really?" Steve asks, his hand inching back toward Eddie's ankle.

"Yeah. Never thought I'd get to even be on your radar. But then these dreams..." he picks up the notebook and drops it again. Steve laughs.

"You were on my radar. We had classes together." Steve mumbles, his ears feeling hot.

"Was I? Really? You seemed pretty wrapped around any girl who smiled at you." Eddie says, teasing, shoving his toes at Steve, pushing them under his thigh. Steve grabs his ankle again, squeezes.

"You were. I just... didn't know it... back then. Didn't know what I was feeling." He shakes his head, frowning. They sit in silence for awhile, and then Eddie taps the notebook again.

"All this stuff is real then? The bats, and the vines, and that creepy house? This all happened?" He sounds unsure again. Steve nods slowly, widens his eyes, stares at Eddie's comforter.

"All real." Steve confirms.

"Could you-" Eddie starts, his hand reaching out, fingers curling around Steve's wrist. Steve blinks at him.

"Would you tell me? Tell me all the stuff I don't remember?" Eddie asks, his fingers squeezing.

"Like a story?" Steve asks, his free hand moving to cover Eddie's. Eddie nods.

"Yeah. I remember a lot I think, I just need... I need you to tell me what order? Or like... how they happened. So I can peice it together." His brow furrows, like he's not sure. Steve smiles, moves his hand up Eddie’s arm, cups his cheek and smiles when Eddie leans into the touch.

"I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything." Steve breathes between them, his thumb soothing over Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flutter, he leans closer, Steve leans forward too, like he's being pulled by a magnet. But he feels like he should have been here months ago, like maybe he's been waiting for this moment his whole life.

"Steve?" Eddie whispers his name between them, Steve can feel his breath on his lips.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, his eyes darting between Eddie's lips and his eyes.

"Have we done this before?" He asks, his voice small. Steve smiles, bumps his nose into Eddie's, his head shaking slightly.

"No. This is new." Steve breathes, his fingers moving into the hair at the nape of Eddie neck.

"Oh. Good. I like it." Eddie laughs, a small thing, he sounds giddy. Steve huffs a laugh too, pulls Eddie just a fraction closer.

"I like it too Ed's." He breathes the words against Eddie's lips and closes the space. Smiling into the kiss when Eddie hums happily, his hands grabbing at Steve's shirt.

~°~

They lay in Eddie's bed for the rest of the day, Steve telling him everything. All about Chrissy, and the upside down, and El and Max, all about Vecna. He tells him everything. All of it. And tries not to make it too much about how Eddie got under his skin. Won him over. Made him fall, hard, for this weird nerdy metal head.

And mostly it works, or Steve thinks so, until the moment he's finished talking. Done answering Eddie's questions, there are several. And Eddie pokes him in the ribs and teases.

"You've got it bad for me huh?" Wiggling his fingers and making Steve squirm. Steve grabs his hands, rolls them over and presses Eddie into the matress. His hands move up Eddie’s wrists, lace their fingers together as Eddie blinks up at him, owlish eyes locked on him.

"Yeah. I've got it bad Munson. That okay with you?" Eddie's mouth opens and Steve dives in, doesn't wait for his answer.

But he doesn't need too. Eddie's dreams had been full of Steve, just like Steve's had been full of him.

#Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #my writing #mine #my fic

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marvelsswansong · 3 years ago

Text

tornado warnings

summary: out of all the girls Eddie could like, of course he'd pick Jason Carver's girlfriend. He kept ignoring the warnings, and now he's in too deep.

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, pining!Eddie, friends to lovers, requited love but both parties are idiots, Dustin trying to talk sense into Eddie, cw for Jason being a misogynistic asshole, song fic, pure fluff, slow burn ish, oneshot

☆ word count: 6.5K+ (she's worth it i promise) ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

It's sprialed out of control. Eddie knows that now.

It's as if he's been struck by lightning, the realization jolting him awake when your fingers deftly brush against his whilst you pass over the chemistry pop quiz. The touch lasts for less than two seconds, accompanied by a friendly smile and a quiet "good luck" thrown in, but it's enough for him to falter and almost let the paper slip from his fingers.

It reminds him of the first time you two met, late after school - you because of cheerleading practice, him because of detention.

Eddie was exhausted. Having shown up late to school with mismatched socks and his roleplaying notebook forgotten by the driver's seat of his van - not that it mattered anymore, considering he had to cancel tonight's session due to detention - he swore that the world was out to get him.

It was half past five and the spring rain was unrelenting, the pitter patter of water droplets against glass windows drowning out all other noise. Eddie scowled, not even the weather was on his side today. He'd have to make a run for it to his car, with nothing more than a floppy notebook to hold over his head.

His footsteps faltered, however, when he heard a feminine voice swear followed by the clattering of metal. Peeking his head around the corner, he was met with none other than the sight of you struggling to open up your locker, delicate fingers fumbling with the lock desperately.

"Oh for fuck's sake." you swore, trying the combination again and pulling the lock with all your strength to no avail. Dropping your duffel bag onto the floor, you tried again, this time grasping the metal lock with both your manicured hands.

No luck.

Sighing, you dropped your arms and fell forward onto your locker head first, before perking up and looking around for someone to ask for help - perhaps a janitor would know how to deal with this. Your eyes met Eddie's, and his eyes widened in an instant (fearing the worst, being caught staring wordlessly at one of the most popular girls in school) but your eyes lit up with recognition and joy.

"Hey! Eddie, right?" you called out, waving him over.

You knew his name? Eddie was simultaneously flattered and shocked, considering you two were separated by several stratospheres in the popularity pyramid. He was in your Advanced Physics class junior year before he dropped down to regular Physics, and even then you sat by the front row with the rest of the cheerleading squad whilst he doodled in his notebooks at the back.

"Do you think you could try opening up my locker for me? I left some important notes in there and my European History test is tomorrow, so I really need them." you sheepishly added, leaning against your locker. Eddie hesitated for a few seconds - was this a trick? Why were you being so nice to him? Why was the smile on your face so pure and so genuine, never once faltering?

Ignoring the sirens going off in his mind, he wordlessly nodded and walked up to your locker.

"The combination is 8-1-8-2."

He spun the dials around and tugged at the lock, but it remained stuck. He tried again, being extra careful to spin the numbers to the exact digit this time, but it still didn't budge.

"Nothing?" you questioned anxiously, peeking over from behind his shoulder. Eddie just grinned at that, hand flying to his jean front pocket to fish out an extra hairpin.

"Maybe not. Hold on."

Bending the metal pin straight, he fumbled with the little hole at the bottom of the lock, until a satisfying 'click' rang out. He was then able to finally unhook the lock and open it up to the contents of your locker - textbooks and folders spilling with notes neatly piled up at the bottom, with a Dior perfume, tube of lipstick and a jar of gummies sitting on the top shelf.

He was about to make a lighthearted joke about the gummies when the joke died in his mouth at the warm sensation of your arms wrapping around his waist, face buried in his shirt as you joyously embraced him.

"YES! Thank you so much, Eddie, you are a lifesaver!"

The sudden burst of affection was totally foreign to him and his senses were going haywire - overwhelmed at how your hair was tickling his exposed skin, your sweet scent (notes of caramel, honey and vanilla) evident but not too strong from this proximity. He fumbled over what to do with his arms, not knowing what was appropriate to do, before awkwardly settling on patting your back with his left hand.

"It's uh, no big deal." he managed to stutter out, small grin on his lips. A grin far outshined by the massive one on yours, bubbly laughter flowing as you quickly dug out the notes from your locker before slamming it shut and locking it back up.

There was another foreign sensation now beginning to register in his brain. Warmth, pleasant fires kindling in his lower stomach, an ache in his chest to have you close to him again. And his next sentence was blurted out before he could even think through all the repercussions.

"Do you need a ride home? Since it's raining and all."

"Yeah! That'd be great."

Following the locker incident, you began to wave at him and exchange quick greetings with him in the hallways. It was a minor change, a verbal acknowledgment instead of silent smiles and polite nods, but that didn't stop others from giving Eddie dirty looks. After all, why was the most popular girl in school giving any time of her day to the resident school freak?

Truth be told, he didn't understand it either. But he wasn't going to complain either, only returning the gestures wholeheartedly. This amicable state of acquaintance - knowing each other's names and being friendly, but never crossing the line into friendship - was broken less than a week later, when he was sitting in Mr.Wilson's office and being lectured about how he really needed to get his grades up.

"I've assigned you a tutor. She's one of my star students and she's kindly agreed to tutor you for free, so please do show up on time and try." the elderly man sighed under his breath, pushing his metal rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose before shuffling through a stack of papers.

"Her name's (Y/n). I'll leave the specifics of the arrangement up to the two of you, but the expectation is one session every week or two. Understood?"

"Understood, sir."

So here he was now. Standing in front of your house, double checking the address scribbled down hurriedly onto his notebook for the hundredth time, agonizing over what to do. Should he knock? Ring the door bell? He was a few minutes early, maybe it'd be best to just wait for you outside-

"Hi there!" you exclaimed, throwing open the door excitedly, making him jump back in surprise. "Come on in, we can go up to my room."

Your hands were preoccupied with drying your wet hair with a towel - it looked as if you had just emerged from the shower, the thought of which made his throat dry, a dirty sight he had to immediately scrub from his mind. Not that it worked particularly well, not when you were wearing an oversized black t-shirt that showed off your legs and the cheerleading shorts you had on hugged your thighs perfectly.

Carefully eyeing the living room and kitchen, he half expected for your parents to jump out and begin to interrogate him as to his identity.

"Are your... parents around?" he'd asked quietly, fingers anxiously twiddling by his sides. You shook your head sideways.

"My parents work out of state most of the time. My godfather drops by every few days though to make sure I'm fine though."

He raised his eyebrows at that, following behind you up the stairs.

"Doesn't that get lonely?"

You hummed, dabbing the last droplets of water from your forehead.

"I guess so. But Hopper - my godfather - has a lot of friends in the community so I get invited over to a lot of things. Plus cheerleading and school stuff keeps me pretty busy so it's not too bad."

You then pushed open the door to your bedroom with your shoulder, stepping backwards to let Eddie in first.

He marveled at how well organized your room was: sunflowers potted by the windowsill, a collection of vinyls leaning against a propped up vinyl record player playing a slow Whitney Houston song. White wardrobe pushed against the wall next to pastel pink drawers, makeup and skincare products neatly placed one after another.

Your cheerleading uniform was ironed and nicely draped over a cushy velvet chair, a full length body mirror with polaroids of you and your friends stuck to its sides on the white wooden frame.

You led him over to your study desk, pristine and white, and gestured to the chair to your left. He was still drinking in the sight of your room as you closed the door shut and hung your towel over the frame of your bed - which was complete with frilly lace sheets, pink and yellow cushions, bumblebee patterns stitched into the fabric.

In summary, Eddie thought, the whole room was so damn... clean and cute. A stark and sore contrast to his messy room, unfolded laundry everywhere and his walls crowded with his guitar and various metal band posters. He was just grateful now that he had insisted on doing the first session at your place instead of his.

"Everything okay?" you questioned, noticing his silence and awed expression. He blinked at you wordlessly at that, mind blanking in an instant.

"Yep! Amazing. Awesome, really. Just very stoked to get started on this exciting English Literature." he boasted, tapping his hand down on the thick textbook. You giggled at that, leaning against your chair.

"Listen, I know that Steinbeck and Fitzgerald aren't as exciting as Iron Maiden or Black Sabbath, but I promise you that there's a charm to these authors as well."

"You know about Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath?" Eddie perked up at that, pleasantly surprised. You rolled your eyes playfully, as if it was common knowledge.

"Duh, what else would I listen to whilst I jog? I can't say I'm as big of a fan as you, but I do listen to a bit of everything and metal is a cool genre."

It was his turn to chuckle, leaning forward onto the table to rest his head on his palms.

"You know, (L/n), you're not at all like what I'd expected you to be."

"What'd you mean by that, Munson?" you challenged, quirking up your eyebrows teasingly, his heart skipping a beat at the action.

"Nothing bad, I promise! Just, I don't know, your friends aren't as friendly or as cool as you."

You click your tongue at that, faux frown on your glossy lips.

"But aren't we friends? And you're plenty cool and friendly."

Friends. The word felt heavy on his tongue, goosebumps rising on his skin. Plus, you'd called him cool and friendly - by far the nicest thing any popular student had ever said to him. All logic flew out the window at that moment, walls tumbling down faster than the next words on his lips.

"Of course we're friends."

It was dangerous territory, a quiet voice was nagging him in the crevices of his mind that this was totally new and treacherous - accepting the friendship of the most popular and desired girl in school. The sirens were blaring in his head, red warning signs clouding his vision.

But Eddie consciously chose to turn the other way, running farther into your embrace.

"Cool. Glad to hear it, friend."

Once the initial hurdle was jumped over, the label of 'friends' hanging over you and Eddie, everything fell into place. Weeks flew by with tutoring sessions filled with inside jokes and excited ramblings, with Eddie taking every chance to insert a dirty joke in somehow to make you laugh.

He walked you from class to class at your insistence, your sharp glare at any staring passerbys enough to shut them up. Conversation was never awkward, there was plenty to talk about. His D&D sessions, the latest Metallica record, the next football game that Eddie would begrudgingly turn up to (but ultimately always would, just to be able to hug you in celebration afterwards).

It was all platonic, he told himself. Sure, he thought you were pretty and fun, but that didn't mean anything. He had it all under control, he reasoned, no, insisted. He was feigning igornace, arguing with his inner voice that it was all just excitement and nerves over having a friend who was popular.

"A lot on your mind?" you asked him a few months later, tongue swiping across the top of your ice cream, legs uncrossing underneath your cheerleading uniform.

You'd insisted on celebrating his first A in English Literature by going out for ice cream - "it's on me" you'd added, making it impossible to say no. It was a sizzling hot summer day and both of you were seeking refuge under the shade of a large willow tree, sitting on the roof of Eddie's van with him only a few inches separated from you.

'Yes.' Eddie wanted to say. 'I can't stop thinking about you.' he wanted to confess. 'I hear your laughter whilst I fold my clothes. I see you in the corner of my eyes everywhere I go, laying on my sofa with your legs dangling off the armrest, smiling at me in the rearview mirror from the backseat of my car.'

But he didn't say that.

"Not really. Just still reeling from the fact that I got an A." he joked, choosing to suppress his inner thoughts.

"Aw, well, you're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, Eds. This is just the beginning, I know it."

Humming, he shot you a quick wink.

"I'll take your word for it, doll."

Both of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, until a loud shriek was heard from inside the ice cream store. A girl Eddie vaguely recognized from one of his classes was nodding fiercely and hugging her boyfriend close, making his eyebrows raise in piqued curiosity.

"Oh, probably just a promposal for the dance next week." you commented lazily, tongue flicking at the top of your cone.

"Are you... going?" Eddie tested the waters, eyes cautiously picking apart your reaction.

"Yeah, I am! Jason's being really difficult about the color palette we're matching as though. He wants pink and blue, I'd rather we do yellow and blue or pink and white."

Eddie's vision flashed white at the mention of Jason's name, bone chilling cold seeping through his chest.

"Jason as in... Jason Carver?"

You nodded, and the pain he felt upon seeing the fond smile that spread across your lips instantly felt worse than a million needle pricks at his heart.

"That's him. He can be kind of difficult at times but... he's my boyfriend and I love him, you know?"

Eddie knew he'd never have a chance with you. He never deluded himself into that fantasy, but now it was confirmed, written in clear black and white: you were taken. Not only that, but you loved Jason Carver. He was your boyfriend.

It made total sense. How had Eddie not noticed it before? Perhaps you had mentioned it to him previously, an off the cuff comment here and there, but Eddie wasn't listening carefully. Too intoxicated on your quiet giggles, too busy admiring the golden sunlight kissing your hairline.

It was impossible to prevent the smile from dissipating from his face, a forced grin instead replacing his genuine warm smile.

"Yeah. Makes sense, I guess."

"How about you, Eds?" you excitedly asked, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Anyone caught your eye that you want to take to the dance?"

It burned his mouth to respond, heart throbbing, fingers strained by his sides.

"Yeah, but uh... I don't think I'll be able to make it, so I'm not going to ask her."

You frowned at that and there were a few drops of strawberry ice cream hanging from your lips, which Eddie reached out to wipe away with his thumb instinctively.

"S-sorry." he muttered out, retracting his hand quickly as if he'd been burnt.

"Yeah, you better be." Jason barked out from behind Eddie, making him straighten up in alarm, not having heard Jason's car pull into the parking lot.

The jock glared at Eddie as he walked around to wrap a possessive arm around your waist, pulling you right against his figure. Your widening smile was unmissable, so was the way you kicked your legs forward in delighted joy when Jason suddenly swooped down and pressed a harsh kiss against your lips.

Eddie awkwardly averted his gaze as Jason continued to glare at the metalhead from over your shoulder, deepening the kiss possessively, his vice grip only loosening from your waist when you patted him on the back indicating that you needed air.

"Ready to go, babe?" Jason asked, not even missing a beat. You nodded, scrunching up the paper cup in your hands and throwing it away to the nearest bin.

"I'll catch you round?" you asked cheerfully, linking your hands with Jason and shooting Eddie a hopeful smile. The smart answer to give would've been to make up an excuse, to cut the friendship there and for good - especially with how Jason was steaming with anger next to you, blue icy eyes narrowing in on Eddie's figure.

There was a storm brewing, toxic smoke billowing into the air. But Eddie stood there, unwavering, only nonchalantly rolling back his shoulders and winking at you.

"Yep. See you round."

Jason's hatred for Eddie only intensified as time went on - you'd tagged along to a D&D session once and the jock found you leaning over Eddie mid-dice roll, metal ring clad fingers on top of yours as he guided you. Eddie waited for you after school whenever you had late practice to drive you back home, only for Jason to then pop out of nowhere and insist on driving you home (though he lived in the opposite direction from you).

"I don't fucking trust you, freak." Jason once spat the moment you ran off to the bathroom, leaving the two men to be standing around your locker. "I don't know what the fuck my girlfriend sees in you, but you better not be dragging her into any of your shit."

Eddie clenched his jaw, fists grasping and ungrasping by his sides in an attempt to control his anger.

"Relax, Carver. We're just friends."

Jason just rolled his eyes at that, stepping forward threateningly.

"Yeah, friends. Just don't get your dick hard thinking she's yours. She shouldn't be wasting her time on you anyways."

Eddie's blood boiled at the way the basketball player talked about you, wanting to control and dictate everything you did.

"She's not property for you to fucking control, jackass." he retorted, only succeeding in causing Jason's nostrils to flare with fury.

"I'm back, and I- Oh." you paused, noticing the tension lingering in the air and the defensive postures. "Is everything alright?"

The boys stared at each other silently, hatred still tinging the air, but it all melted into fake smiles on both their faces when turning to you.

"Yep." they both affirmed.

"Everything's... perfect. Just as it should be." Jason slowly drawled, eyeing Eddie up and down. It was a threat, an alarm bell ringing right by his ears. It dawned on Eddie that this was becoming unavoidable now, the mess that he was in, his love for you an unstoppable tornado.

It was incredibly reckless to continue to be friends with you. But god, it felt so damn good.

So out of selfish nature or not, Eddie didn't pull away. He chose to clutch on to you tighter, grit his teeth harder, damn all the consequences that would follow. He'd wander closer into the eye of the storm, wholeheartedly and willingly, all for you.

Though Jason wasn't silent about his unhappiness over your friendship with Eddie, you never let it affect you. So Eddie continued to be your friend, maybe even best friend at this point after six months, what in between Saturday movie nights and late evening talks on the bleachers after practice.

Eddie forced himself to be content with being your go-to platonic company: of helping you pick out a dress for your date with Jason whilst leaning against the headboard of your bed, carrying your things for you at school as you rushed to class after cheerleading practice, laughing with you over a pack of cheep bear in someone's backyard during a loud house party.

It hurt - doing all the things couples did, but under the label of friendship and under Jason's persistent gaze. After all, Eddie was the one to hold your hair back when you'd had too much to drink at the end of year summer party, helping to wipe your mouth with a stray towel and gently guiding a water bottle to your lips.

Your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, having ditched you the moment his fellow basketball players called him over. It made Eddie furious, how it seemed Jason only wanted you as a trophy to show off to the school before abandoning you in favor of his friends, but you seemed to be blind to it.

Besides, Eddie reasoned, who was he to intervene? Overall, you were happy, right?

The metalhead wasn't even in the bathroom with you for more than three minutes when Jason came pummeling through the door, chest heaving with anger upon having been told that you were seen stumbling into an empty bathroom with Eddie 'the freak' Munson.

The jock never said it - at least in front of Eddie - but it was clear that he suspected something more than friendship, you two always tilting dangerously close into romantic territory. Jason ordered Eddie out, insisting that you were in need of your boyfriend instead of him, and with a heavy heart Eddie sighed and wandered back into the party.

He still thought about you the rest of the night though, no matter how many jaegar bomb shots he downed.

Come autumn, and it wasn't just Jason who saw what was going on. At this point, you were beloved by everyone in the Hellfire Club and you'd even swung by Eddie's trailer multiple times. Wayne and the kids would all tease Eddie for his clear infatuation with you, which Eddie would vehemently deny, though he knew deep down they were right.

"So are you ever going to admit that you like her?" Dustin teased, knocking his shoulder into the older boy's.

They were sitting on the railings of the skate park, the boys having lost a game of rock-paper-scissors with Max to pick between going to the arcade or to the skate park. The redhead was busy coaching you on how to skate - your legs wobbly on the skateboard as Max held onto your arms, wide amused smiles on both your faces - whilst Lucas and Mike ran off to the corner store to get some water.

"What, (Y/n)?" Eddie tried to play dumb.

"Duh, who the hell else?" Dustin retorted, appalled that his friend would even try to feign ignorance.

Both boys picked up their heads at the sound of loud laughter, your back on the pavement as you seemingly fell, Max laughing so hard that she had tears in her eyes and was hunched over to clutch her stomach. The fond smile gracing Eddie's lips was instantaneous- you were always so good with the kids, they all adored you. The boys pestered you for gaming tips, Max and you bonded over music, Erica thought you were the "coolest adult" she knew.

It made Eddie fall even deeper for you, his heart now fully in the eye of the hurricane. You were ripping down all his walls, your laughter destructive and haunting. You left him dizzy and stumbling through the hallways, heart heavy with infatuation, lips aching to be on yours.

"There. Right there." Dustin commented, pointing right at Eddie's face. "You get that stupid grin on your face whenever she smiles or talks or shit, does anything really. We all have bets on when you're finally gotta make a move, so when are you?"

Eddie shoved off the curly haired boy, fingers scrambling to brush off the sleeves of his jacket in false boredom.

"For the millionth time, Henderson, she has a boyfriend. Said boyfriend, who by the way, hates me and frankly I don't feel like being a homewrecker." he spat, venom dropping from his voice at the thought of Jason. Letting out a short exhale, he flashed the younger boy a tired smile.

"Besides, we've been friends for like, what, over half a year now? The ship has sailed, I've got no chance."

"You're just saying that because you don't see the way she looks at you." the younger boy insisted. "Seriously. Friends don't look at each other like that."

Eddie had nothing to say to that, you looking up from the opposite site of the skate park to wave at the two boys with delight, which they both quickly returned. The fluttering in Eddie's stomach was easy to anticipate at this point, as was the heavy pang in his heart at the realization that Jason would be coming to pick you up in a short bit.

"She's just being nice, Dustin." Eddie muttered, running a shaky hand through his hair.

You looked ethereal whilst skating, so carefree, hair flowing in the wind as your knees bent and braced for the dip off the edge. Fading red orange sunlight accentuating the dip and curve of your facial features, autumn foliage stuck in your messy hair.

You'd come into his life, a tornado, and destroyed his whole being. He was wandering alone now, knees brushing up against green fields with nothing but trees surrounding him, but Eddie didn't mind.

So long as he got to continue to watch you smile like that.

Cut to the present, Eddie's mindlessly filling out the pop quiz, brain still fuzzy from your touch lingering over his skin, ghostly yet ever so present. The rest of the class flies by and it's the end of the school day, so Eddie quickly moves to shove his things into his bag, crushing all his paper notes with the haste with which he does so.

"Any plans for tonight?" you ask, tossing your bag over your shoulder.

It's Friday night, which to everyone else means parties and fancy dinners, but to Eddie it usually means going back to the trailer and watching a rerun of a shitty sitcom over a bowl of microwave mac and cheese. Not that he'll tell you that, though.

"Not really. Why, up for another spontaneous drive through town?" he teases, heart fluttering hopefully. You sigh and shake your head sideways.

"Can't - Jason's taking me out on a date, but... rain check for maybe next Friday?" you question, peeking up from your lashes.

"Sure, next Friday." the bitter smile and forced ambivalence to his tone is painful, but it's a dull ache he's made peace with at this point. "If anything changes, you know where to find me." Eddie jokes, cocking his head to the side.

And unexpectedly, things do change.

In the blink of an eye, it seems.

Eddie's mid-way through the rented copy of Evil Dead, hands stuck in a greasy bowl of popcorn as he lies chest down on the sofa, blue light from the television illuminating his tired face, until someone bangs against his trailer door furiously.

Jumping up at the sudden loud noise, he pauses the VHS tape, abandoning his bowl of popcorn on the couch before throwing open the door.

It's you, mascara running down your cheeks, arms crossed over your chest, clutching at your skin so harshly that the baby blue dress you're wearing bunches at your waist.

"I broke up with him." is the first thing you say, voice shaky, body still trembling. "He said some, fuck, awful things, Eds. Really awful things. I had no choice and I know it was the right thing to do but-"

Your voice breaks as another wave of tears overwhelms you.

"But then why does it still hurt?"

Eddie's quick to shush you and envelope you into his arms, not caring that your makeup is probably smudging against his shirt, his hands coming up to comfortingly cradle your head against his chest. Your body trembles with every sob that escapes your lips and Eddie presses a soft kiss to your hairline, wishing nothing more than to take your pain away from you.

His mind is whirring with a million different things to say to you, but your comfort is on the forefront of his mind above all.

"Hey... have you ever been to the park by Saint Street? You know, the one with the playground." he quietly suggests, pulling away slightly.

You look up at him, confused, wiping your eyes.

"I don't think so, why?"

Picking up the jean jacket thrown over his kitchen counter, he digs out his car keys from the side pocket and extends his left hand out for you to grab.

"Because. We should go. It's impossible to be sad at a playground."

It's a stupid thing to say, childish even, but it does the job of putting a smile back onto your face, your cold hands grasping his warm ones. It's a quick drive - no less than 15 minutes - but he can't help but look over at you at every intersection and red light, making sure that you're okay.

He jumps out first to open the car door for you before helping you climb over the metal fence - "no one comes by, I swear" he assures you - shaky feet meeting dead leaves and dirt, he's quick to tug you towards the swing set.

He refuses to let you talk - "play first, until you stop crying" - and he insists on pushing you on the swing as high as he can. He chases you down the slides then races you to the top of the jungle gym, drunk off of your bubbly laughter and the way your eyes twinkle in the moonlight.

Neither of you know how much time has passed before you two sit across from each other on the seesaw, ribs hurting from the lack of oxygen. You can faintly make out Eddie's features in the dark - moonlight illuminating his curls, amused grin on his handsome face (the same face you've been unable to stop thinking about for the past few months).

"So what'd Jason say?" Eddie asks, leaning forward. "But only if you wanna talk about it, of course." he clarifies.

You let out a slow exhale, nodding tiredly.

"No, no, you... you deserve to know. Jason was on edge at the restuarant - I didn't think much of it, he's always a bit on edge - but he just went crazy today. Like, the moment the waiter left he started screaming at me, accusing me of cheating on him."

"Cheating on him?" Eddie strains his neck with the speed with which he picks his head up to stare at you, wide mouthed. "You? You would never!"

You scoff at that, thumbs anxiously twiddling on your lap.

"I know. That's what I tried to tell him but he wouldn't hear it. Just kept on going and on about how I was clearly in love with-" you stop yourself then, the gravity of the situation falling into place like dominoes.

You just broke up with your boyfriend of nearly a year. You came to Eddie crying, showing up at his doorstep in a heartbeat. Now you two are staring at each other in the park, leaned over opposite sides of a fucking seesaw, pouring each other's feelings out into the chilly winter air.

"With who?" he furrows his eyebrows and you almost want to laugh at how oblivious he is. You suppose maybe you've been hiding it well - well enough for Eddie to not notice how your touch has always lingered a bit too long on his skin, how your head so easily found home in the crook of his neck, how you began to prioritize meeting up with him over your fellow cheerleaders.

But not well enough for Jason, eagle eyed and jealous, constantly hovering over your interactions with Eddie and deluding himself with the gossip around school that you'd gone further than that.

"You."

It's whispered, heart falling to the bottom of your stomach at the confession now lingering in the open, cold and heavy.

"M-me?" Eddie stutters, clearly taken back. You lick your lips, chapped and dry, your shaky breaths coming out in small whisps of white smoke.

"Yeah. Jason insisted that it was clear that I was cheating on him with you and that we were spending way too much time to be just friends, and he... he called me a lying slut. Straight up. Screamed that I was whore to my face, demanded to know how many times we fucked behind his back."

"W-we never even kissed!"

"Yeah, I know." you chuckle sadly, shaking your head sideways, blinking away new tears which spring to your eyes. "But Jason didn't believe me. I dumped him, left him with the check and... I don't know, didn't feel like going home to an empty house. And I just... all I could think about was how much I wanted to see you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. So he takes the safe route, nodding sympathetically and flashing you a small grin.

"Well, I'm glad that you did. I hope me dragging you to the playground wasn't the wrong thing to do." he teases, attempting to lighten the heavy mood. It works, soft grin tugging at your face.

"Yeah it definitely wasn't. Coming here was perfect."

The night breeze blows against your bare shoulders and it hits you that you really aren't dressed for the outside. Even if winter is only beginning to slowly roll in, it's still chilly enough to see your breath in front of your eyes in puffs of smoke and you've been sitting still on this seesaw for a while. So Eddie steps off to shrug off his jacket, musky earth tones warming your senses as he places it carefully around your shoulders.

"Thanks." you mutter, fingers grasping the lapels of the fabric.

"Don't mention it." he responds, waving you off.

A few beats of silence pass and then you throw your head back, staring up at the night sky full of stars.

"You know, weirdly though, I'm kind of relieved."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Deep down, I knew it wouldn't last. Too many red flags, you know? I just keep on ignoring them because... I don't know, really. Don't like change."

"I get that."

"God, feelings suck." you chuckle, shaking your head sideways. "Don't they? Pining, infatuation, love."

Eddie hums, nodding along.

"I'm there with you. For example-" he pauses. He's staring the storm right in the eye now, he has to made a decision.

He's tired of running, he decides.

"The girl I've been fawning over for almost a year now has been totally blind to my love for her and I'm exhausted." he makes it a point to stare straight at you with an unwavering intensity. "But she's worth it."

It's a shot in the dark but there's a surge of courage and adrenaline pumping through his veins, and the dark makes him more bold. He blames it on the wind rush, the night high, how beautiful you look in that velvet blue dress.

"She sounds like a very lucky girl." you choke out, mind blanking unexpectedly. Eddie nods and walks up towards you slowly, your throat running dry under the intensity of his stare.

"Yeah, and she's incredible, too. Head cheerleader. Great English Literature tutor. So funny, so kind, so damn beautiful, especially in blue. Great with kids, loved by my uncle, and I just heard-" his left hand comes over to brush up against your cheek. "That she's single. Funny how things work out like this, huh?"

You nod wordlessly, entranced by his warm brown eyes.

"It is."

You stand up cautiously, never once breaking eye contact with him, leaning in closer and closer. Eddie's expecting you to pull away from him in any instant, disgust springing onto your face or apologies falling from your lips, but you remain still. Your lashes fluttering shut is the last sign he needs before he commits to closing the gap and kissing you squarely on your lips, knocking the cold air out from your lungs.

It's a cold night but his skin's on fire, left hand springing up to cup your chin, other hand supporting your neck as he tugs you in even closer. You taste like cherry chapstick and smell like French perfume, velvet fabric brushing up against his arms as he backs you up against a park bench.

It's a messy kiss, all teeth and tongue, but he can't give a fuck. Not when his heart is soaring, fingertips electric, mind hazy at the realization that he is finally kissing his dream girl after a whole year of pining.

"Holy shit." you manage to say when you two pull apart, hair slightly messied and lips wet and plump.

"I hope that's a good holy shit, princess." Eddie teases, the nickname causing your stomach to flutter with butterflies.

"It's a good holy shit. A really good holy shit." you confirm, nodding fiercely. You both laugh at that, warmth blossoming across both your chests.

"W-why didn't you ever say anything?" you stutter out, head still reeling from the passionate kiss.

"I wanted to. God, I wanted to so many times. I knew I was falling for you from the beginning, all these little indicators and signs and the intrusive thoughts. But I kept on ignoring them and by the time I realized I loved you, I knew you were with Jason and you two seemed happy. And I didn't want to be selfish and intrude on your happiness like that."

He tugs you down onto his lap, sitting both your bodies down on the metal bench. Your hands come up to carress his cold cheeks, trembling thumbs rubbing up and down his jawline, eyes admiring the freckles on his nose and the specks of moonlight in his hair.

"Well, no need to ignore those warnings anymore, huh?" you say quietly, voice heavy with adoration.

He just nods, head falling forwards to rest on your chest, hearing your soft heartbeat through velvet fabric.

"Absolutely."

Eddie ignored the tornado warnings.

But in the wreckage, you two found each other, hands desperately grasping each other's in the darkness.

Burrowing his head into the crevice of your neck, he's content to stay with you in the aftermath of the disaster, so long as you continue to grip onto him like this.

a/n: this was based on the song with the same title by Sabrina Carpenter! Please go stream and support her new album, 'emails I can't send', it is fantastic and there are so many other bangers on the album.

Speaking of which, the way that the metaphor of the tornado is used in the song is kinda different from how I used it here but idk, I thought it was a cute concept and the song motivated me to write it haha. Not sure how this fic will be received but I loved writing it :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #1k #2k #3k #4k #5k #6k #7k #8k

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withacapitalp · 2 years ago

Text

"Can I...um...roll to run away?"

Judging by the chorusing round of sighs and disappointed head shakes from the kids, that was definitely not the right thing to say.

"We've nearly defeated Kyuss," Mike shouted, throwing his hands in the air and shooting Steve a severe glare.

"But all of you are passed out or paralyzed!" Steve shot back, gesturing around the table at the rest of the figurines which were lying on their backs.

"Yeah, but you're a tank! You could take out the monster with one more blow. Now we're going to have to do it all over again.”

But….wasn’t that the whole point? Doing this over and over again? Steve shot a helpless look at Eddie who just gave him his DM witchy grin and spread his hands open wide.

“You can change your mind, Sir Steven,” Eddie offered, “But be warned Kyuss is hungry for flesh,”

Steve hesitated, looking down and around the map.

“No…I don’t think I’m gonna.”

"God, you're so stupid sometimes, Steve," Dustin groaned, letting his head fall onto the table with a soft thunk as the rest of the party started yelling. Steve forced himself to smile, his cheeks flushing as his stomach did an uncomfortable flip flop. It was loud, it was hot, and Steve just wanted to go home.

"Stop it.”

Eddie voice cut through the rest of them. It wasn’t like he had spoken particularly loud, it was his tone. Severe, and brimming with uncharacteristic rage. Enough to make all of them quiet down and look at Eddie with wide eyes. Steve’s anxiety got even worse, and he was sure that Eddie was about to start yelling at him. Steve let his eyes slip down, shame making all the bones in his body ache.

"I'm sure all of you were strategic geniuses the first time you played, right? You never stumbled or needed a second to think about the right move to make?” Eddie practically snarled, throwing dirty looks at every one of the kids. Steve sucked in a breath and dared a glance up, not quite believing what he was seeing.

Eddie was defending him. Him. Steve. And he wasn’t done yet

“You all moan and grumble and fucking whine about how 'Steve never plays DnD with us', 'Steve won't even give it a chance', ‘He would see if he just played once’” Eddie said, raising his voice to a high pitched nasally yowl, “Of course he doesn't want to give it a chance, you are all being jerks.”

“Steve can handle it,” Max said with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah he can,” Eddie agreed easily, sparing a quick glance over toward Steve, “but that doesn’t mean he should have to. Especially not from you all. You little nerds have never had to deal with this, because you’re always ahead of the rest, but take it from the guy who failed his senior year twice- Being called stupid your whole life hurts .”

Eddie let the final word ring out, not bothering to hide the pain that lived in those words. Steve had never really considered that Eddie might’ve heard the same things he did, cause Eddie was the smartest person Steve knew besides Dustin and maybe Will.

“From now on anyone calling anyone else stupid is getting 10 HP knocked off of their stats. Permanently. I don't want to hear that word. Got it?”

The kids all nodded, guilt weighing down their shoulders and lowering the mood. One by one they quietly apologized to Steve, Eddie nodding in satisfaction as they did.

Steve didn’t really know what to think. Eddie turned towards him, and Steve stiffened up, both worried and intrigued.

“You can roll to run away. That's actually probably the smartest thing you could do here, seeing as you're pretty much the only member of the party left standing.” Eddie said softly, giving Steve a gentle smile, “Still wanna do it?”

Steve nodded, ready to fight this battle another day.

#st #st drabble #steve harrington #stranger things hc #stranger things #stranger things drabble #Eddie munson #steddie #pre steddie #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #Steve harrington is smart #steddie Drabble #steddie ficlet #Liam writes #Liam loves his blorbos #Liam speaks up #Writing(withacapitalW)

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steddiealltheway · 2 years ago

Text

Steve and Eddie witness Robin and Nancy kiss each other goodbye for the first time.

The girls both snap their heads to the boys who just shrug it off. When they leave, Steve and Eddie agree that they wish they could be that close with their friends.

Robin and Nancy continue to kiss each other goodbye, but Eddie and Steve notice that they’ve become more touchy in general.

One time, Steve jokes to Eddie that he wishes they could be more cuddly without being looked at sideways.

“Why can’t we?” Eddie asks.

Steve shrugs and throws an arm around him. Eddie leans into the touch, cuddling into his side immediately.

The next time the four hang out, Steve and Eddie find themselves witnessing Nancy’s and Robin’s goodbye kiss. “Why don’t we do that, too?” Eddie suggests.

Steve shrugs yet again and pulls Eddie into a kiss.

When the two pull away, they find Nancy and Robin gaping at them weirdly enough. But they also just nod it off and say their separate goodbyes to the boys.

A few weeks later, the four find themselves hanging out with the rest of the party at the Wheeler house. Eddie is dungeon mastering alongside Will in what the other kids call “The most horrific and cruel duo in D&D history.”

Nancy finds herself carding her hands through Robin’s hair as she sits on the floor in front of Nancy, thoroughly entertained. Steve finds himself also watching for the spectacle of it all, which turns out to be mainly Eddie.

As it gets late, Steve finds himself yawning while Robin is fully passed out now in Nancy’s lap.

Eddie calls for a bathroom and snack break and makes his way to Steve. “You know you can go home, right? There’s probably a few more hours left in these kids’ system to power through this part of the campaign. Get some rest, sweetheart, okay?”

Steve puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and asks, “Are you sure?”

Eddie nods with a wide, reassuring smile. Steve quickly leans in and kisses him goodbye.

“Did you two just kiss?!” Dustin yells from the other side of the room.

As the other kids join in on the chaos, Robin stirs rapidly awake. She yells, “What is happening?!”

“Eddie and Steve just kissed!” Mike yells back.

“What’s the big deal? Nancy and Robin do it all the time!” Steve shoots back.

Robin turns bright red as Nancy gapes replying, “Because we’re dating!”

“You’re dating?” Is the most common response among everyone in the room, including Steve and Eddie.

“You seriously didn’t know that?” Robin asks the boys.

Steve can feel the blood drain from his face, and Eddie doesn’t look much better either.

“Wait, if you didn’t think we were dating… are you…” Nancy trails off, taking a deep breath to collect her thoughts, “Are you two not dating?”

“No!” Steve and Eddie yell at the same time with Eddie muttering, “Jesus H. Christ,” afterwards.

“Let me get this straight,” Dustin says. “You two have seen Nancy and Robin kiss what sounds like multiple times, and you assumed they were friends who just… kissed each other? And you came to the conclusion that this was a normal thing that you both also wanted to partake in?”

Steve and Eddie look at each other then back at Dustin and nod. “Sounds about right,” Eddie says and Steve agrees.

Dustin sits down and puts his head in his hands. Robin and Nancy begin giggling to themselves, struggling to get out a few “Sorry”s between laughing fits. Will shakes his head, while Mike is still gaping at his sister and Robin.

Steve and Eddie whisper between themselves, “So, they aren’t friends?”

“No, they are not,” Eddie replies.

“They’re dating,” Steve says.

“They sure are.”

Steve looks Eddie in the eye and asks, “If they’re dating, does that mean we’re also dating?”

Eddie shrugs. “If you want us to be.”

Steve shrugs as well and asks, “Do you want us to be?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Eddie replies causally, trying to hide a wide smile behind his hair.

Steve turns towards the group and announces, “Eddie and I are also now dating!”

This leaves the group in absolutely hysterics especially when Lucas clambers down the stairs asking, “What did I miss?”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #fruity four #the fruity four #steddie ficlet #steddie crack

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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago

Text

After the almost end of the world, Steve tells Eddie that he can have a shower first.

It feels surreal that they’ve both made it here—that Eddie is standing in his hallway, leaving mud stains on the floor from his boots: remnants of The Upside Down mixed with normal dirt.

Steve almost wants to ask if he can walk around some more, create countless marks as proof of his existence; hell, even take his hand and run it down the beige walls.

Leave a trail, Steve thinks, through a fog of complete and utter exhaustion. So I know it’s real. So I can find my way back to you.

What he says instead is, “Try not to get your dressings wet.”

Eddie pauses on the stairs. Smiles. “Okay, nurse,” he says, and it’s a gentle tease if anything, his voice softened by tiredness.

He’s holding himself a little stiffly while turned to speak, his upper body almost at an angle.

Steve thinks about the jagged line down his side (“If the bats died, like, ten seconds later, you’d have—you asshole,” Dustin had rambled through tears, thumping Eddie on the arm); how Eddie had narrowly avoided a hospital stay. Thinks of the way Eddie tried to reassure Dustin, fiddling with the guitar pick hanging around his neck in a show of nonchalance—but Steve still saw how his hand shook.

“Guess I’m just a lucky son of a bitch, huh, Henderson?”

It shouldn’t have been luck; it should have been a guarantee. Steve should have ensured it.

Eddie makes his way upstairs with slow, heavy footsteps. Steve waits until he can hear the water running, then heads to the phone.

He’s used to this routine by now. Robin and Nancy first, as he knows they’ll pick up rather than their parents.

“Oh, thank god,” Robin had said when she answered the phone after Starcourt. “I thought it was a horrible dream.”

“Thank god?” Steve echoed, laughing.

“Yeah,” Robin said, quite seriously. “It was either I dreamed up everything alone, or we saw it all together.”

And Steve, touched beyond words, had called her a dingus instead.

Tonight, their phone call is much quieter.

“I’m home,” Robin says. “I love you.”

Steve’s hand clenches around the phone. “Love you too,” he whispers, and he ignores the warning sting in his eyes, because he doesn’t have time to—he still has so much left to…

“I’m home,” Nancy says. She adds, “Get some sleep, Steve,” in the fatigued tones of someone who will not be taking their own advice.

Eddie comes downstairs sometime during Steve’s phone call with Mr and Mrs Sinclair. He’s quiet; the only sign that alerts Steve to his presence is the faint smell of mint body wash.

When Steve hangs up, he has to take a breath, still clinging to the phone pointlessly.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks quietly.

Steve breathes out. “Checking in,” he says.

He dials another number.

It began after Starcourt, the Sinclairs having bought the excuse that Steve had been trapped with Erica in a broken down elevator as the ‘fire’ began—technically true, Steve had thought, just in the wrong order.

Their conversation had been all anxious tones, all, You were there, Steve, what exactly…? Should we be worried that…?

And he gets good at it, at bridging the gap between worlds: keeping the full truth from parents, but giving them just enough information, little things that go beyond the surface level cover story, that somehow help put their mind at ease—cultivating the sense that Steve is the witness, the one being honest with them.

Christ, he’s tired.

The call with Max’s mom is hard. She’s still at the hospital, and technically there’s nothing to really worry about (Max’s arm had a clean break), but that doesn’t change how it all felt, how she shook with pained sobs as Steve tucked her into his side.

“She’s sleeping now. She said you were with her,” Susan tells him, voice low. “Steve, I’m—I’m so grateful.”

But I wasn’t, Steve thinks. Not when it mattered.

He doesn’t realise that he’s still holding the phone after the call has ended until Eddie takes it from him and puts it back in the cradle.

“Hey, can I, uh, use the phone? Wanna call my uncle,” Eddie says.

Steve doesn’t mention the fact that Eddie has already spoken with his uncle, that Steve had overheard him fighting tears in the hospital as he called the plant where his uncle was still working: because even the earthquake-like rumble felt all over town as Henry Creel died wasn’t enough of an excuse to warrant clocking out early.

“Pretend I’m s-someone else calling,” Eddie had whispered, his voice breaking. “Wayne, I-I’m okay. Got stitches, but I’m okay. Fuck. I love you.”

And Steve tried not to think about how it could’ve so easily been him making the call, telling Wayne Munson that his nephew will never come home again.

Eddie pauses, hand hovering over the phone. Then he twirls his index finger in a little circle: turn around.

Steve does. Can’t find the energy to smile.

“Shower,” Eddie says, then taps him very gently on the back, once, twice, like he’s saying off you go.

Steve manages to twist his body so his own fresh bandages don’t get wet, carefully tilting the shower head away from them. He methodically washes away the dirt; the heat of the water is welcome, but it also seems to weigh down his limbs with every drop.

When he goes back downstairs, Eddie is on the phone. He keeps repeating vague little mm-hmm sounds, and Steve somehow is sure that he isn’t on the phone to his uncle.

“Yeah,” Eddie says as Steve approaches. “Yeah, he’s here.”

There’s a little side table next to the phone; Eddie reaches for the notepad, scribbles, then turns it round so Steve can see.

Dustin’s mom

And Steve…

He knows he should talk to her. He knows Claudia will no doubt have questions, even if Dustin’s probably already given his own half-baked explanation about how he hurt his leg—“It’s just a sprain,” he’d insisted, even as Steve hoisted him up, took all of his weight.

The right thing to do, surely, is take the phone from Eddie.

But Steve suddenly can’t bring himself to even lift his hand for it. He feels drained, feels vulnerable and exposed after the shower—that along with the grime being lifted from his skin, it’s also left his stupidly fragile, exhausted heart on show.

Eddie’s eyes flicker over his face like he can see it, see everything, and without so much as an awkward pause, he murmurs into the receiver, “He’s tired. Yeah, he’s—he’s okay. Mm-hmm. Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

He hesitates for a moment, a fleeting sheen to his eyes, and then he says, “Thank you. Goodnight, Mrs Henderson.” Another little pause. He smiles, adds, “Goodnight, Claudia,” and hangs up the phone.

“Is she… okay?” Steve asks. “What did she—is Dustin—”

“All good,” Eddie says. “She was just… checking in.”

The checking you were okay goes unsaid, but Steve can still hear it.

It weighs him down like the shower had done. He doesn’t register that he crosses through to the living room, just knows that he’s suddenly sinking down onto the arm of the couch, that Eddie is sitting next to him.

Steve doesn’t consciously decide to speak, the words tumbling out of him like it’s inevitable.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he mumbles.

He can practically hear Eddie frantically trying to make sense of what he’s said.

“Well, yeah, no plan’s gonna go perfectly, man, that’d be—but, hey, we fuckin’ made it, we—”

But Steve is shaking his head. “No, I… I thought I’d figured it out, I—”

He doesn’t know how to explain it; it’s too much to…

It’s something too big to put into words.

The fact that, as Nancy relayed each phase of the plan, he had listened closely, only agreed because at least he was in the group that would be closest to the ‘blast zone.’

That he’d hated leaving Lucas, Max and Erica alone, but had tried to reassure himself that at least they weren’t in The Upside Down.

That once Dustin knew where Steve was going, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, that he’d follow him to The Upside Down no matter what.

And, honestly, Steve would’ve preferred Eddie not getting dragged into this bullshit for any longer than he needed to be—that if it was feasible, Steve would’ve just told him to take the RV and run.

But Steve had seen how he was with Dustin, roughhousing in the grass. Knew that where Dustin went, Eddie would follow, too—a shield in his hand.

And Steve also knew something along those lines was true for him and Robin: that if he thought he could get away with it, he would’ve told her to watch over the kids at the Creel House, but knew she’d choose to be with him.

That all he could feel about going into Henry Creel’s lair himself was relief—not because he thought he was an essential part in all of this, but because he just…

He needed to be there. Just in case.

Because there was a look in Nancy’s eyes that terrified him. It said that if she had to, she’d die with Henry Creel, so long as it would all be over, so long as Barb would be avenged.

Out loud, all he can say is, “It… it was too close.”

“Steve,” Eddie says. “No-one got—”

“You’re not listening,” Steve says, and there’s a scream in his throat begging to be released; he doesn’t let it go. “It was too—I almost—almost had to—”

“Steve.”

“S-someone’s gotta call home,” Steve goes on. “And I—fuck, I was so scared I’d h-have to—to tell them that—”

“Steve,” Eddie whispers.

“But I-I would’ve,” Steve says. His voice cracks. “I couldn’t have just—they would’ve got a-answers, I would’ve—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly, and he’s got a hand in Steve’s hair suddenly, guiding him to his shoulder. “I know you’d—hey, I’ve got you. I know.”

The first sob, when it starts, hurts—feels like it comes straight from his stomach. Eddie holds him through it, almost like he’s afraid Steve might drift away to some unreachable place.

“I’ve got you,” he keeps saying. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

When it’s over, when Steve gives a final, shuddering breath against Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie murmurs into his hair, “S’too late for any more phone calls, Steve. C’mon. Show me where to sleep?”

It’s not even all that big of a thing, when Steve leads Eddie to his bedroom, lies down on the farthest side of the bed. Leaves deliberate space.

“You don’t have to—there’s a guest room,” Steve says, tongue thick with exhaustion. “Don’t wanna—kinda worried I’ll hit your dressings in my sleep.”

Eddie looks at him from the doorway. “You’ve been patched up too, Steve,” he points out.

Steve shrugs.

Eddie steps into the room. “It’ll be fine,” he says, smiling. “We’ll both be gentle, huh?”

Steve nods through a yawn. When Eddie makes to shut the door, he says, “Don’t, leave it open. Just—just in case the phone… I’ll sleep right through it otherwise.”

Eddie’s still touching the door handle. “D’you trust me?”

Steve’s eyes keep closing against his will. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I trust you.”

Eddie shuts the door so quietly that it barely makes a sound. “Okay. ‘Cause I have, like, freakishly good hearing.” Through his lashes, Steve sees Eddie smirk wryly. “Like a bat.”

Steve thinks he makes a noise of acknowledgement—isn’t quite sure as his eyes have closed.

He feels Eddie lie down next to him, feels the covers being drawn up.

“I’ll hear the phone,” Eddie says. “I’ll answer it, ‘kay? I’ll come wake you up, if I need to.”

A gentle hand on Steve’s forearm.

“Promise,” Eddie says.

Steve breathes in. Out.

“Okay,” he replies, and he falls asleep completely: not needing to stay half-awake, not needing to pick up the phone—not needing to do anything at all.

#in which Steve can both be self sacrificial and still worry about anyone else being self sacrificial 💔#steve harrington fic #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve and nancy #steve and robin #steve and the party #eddie and claudia #steve and claudia #steddie

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headkiss · 3 years ago

Text

pretty

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: three times eddie almost asks you out, and the one time he does.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: nothing! smitten eddie and reader with lots of fluff and waiting for them to get together!

a/n: hi hi! sorry for the wait for this one, but i hope you guys like it and pls let me know what u think :D

༄

Somehow, Eddie was roped into bringing Dustin to the arcade on a random weeknight. Something about Steve working and a new game being installed that he couldn’t miss.

And anyway, he has a hard time saying no to the kid.

So, that led him to having to clean out his van of his staches and anything he deemed unsuitable for the nosy eyes of Dustin Henderson. Eddie never thought he’d care so much about the youngest members of Hellfire, but he saw a lot of himself in them.

After picking up Dustin, who insisted on choosing the music, and driving to the arcade, he parked and followed Dustin inside. Of course, Eddie’s been to the arcade before, but last time he went, Keith was the one working there.

And you—who had a bright smile and was waving to Dustin—were certainly not Keith.

Eddie trailed behind his younger friend as he walked over to the counter to talk to you. Of course, Eddie knew who you were, but you were different from the person he went to school with, you seemed happier, like there was a weight that wasn’t holding you down anymore. He also had no idea you knew Dustin.

“Hurry up!” The curly-haired boy called from where he stood by the counter.

Eddie hadn’t even realized he stopped walking.

He caught up quickly, coming to rest his elbows on the desk you stood behind. You were laughing at something Dustin had said and it was a beautiful sight. Eddie wanted to make you laugh like that himself.

“Finally. Eddie, this is my old babysitter,” Dustin introduced you, even if you already knew each other. “Now she’s here all the time and loves when I come in.”

Eddie whispers your name, testing it on his tongue.

“You how he found out about this new game?” He faces you, and he swears he can feel his heart stutter when you make eye contact.

Your eyes are kind, soft, and surrounded by smudgy eyeliner that brings them out even more. He’s struck by how pretty you are. Not that you weren’t before, he’s just never noticed it until now.

“Guilty,” you shrug with a shy smile. “But hey, you can hang out with me here if you’d rather.”

Dustin was off with a rushed promise of getting the high score, and then it was just you and Eddie. He decided to take you up on your offer of passing the time with you. He’s sure it beats listening to Dustin yell at a video game.

“So, Eddie,” you prop yourself up with an elbow on the counter, chin perched on your hand. “Haven’t seen you since school. How are you?”

“Good, yeah. Finally graduated, so that’s something.”

“That’s great! What about your band?”

He’s surprised you knew about it, but he tries to hide it. “Corroded Coffin, yep. Still going.”

“And Hellfire? Dustin tells me all about it when he’s here.”

He can’t deny the pleasure he feels knowing you know about his hobbies. Even if you’ve probably learned it all through Dustin.

“Couldn’t let it go so I still run it. It’s nerdy but I love it.”

“Nothing wrong with nerdy. I’ve heard lots about it and it sounds really fun.”

You don’t mean to sound creepy or come off that way, knowing about Eddie and wanting to talk about it. You’re interested in knowing, you want to be his friend. He’s kind and funny and has an energy about him that you want to be around. He makes you a little nervous, even if you hide it well.

“It’s, um.. Yeah. It’s great.”

The evening moves along and you and Eddie talk through it all, save the interruptions from customers when you’re actually needed. It was easy and even through the awkward points, you both wanted to be there.

Eddie wasn’t expecting to actually enjoy himself, he was expecting a night that was a favor to Dustin and that’s it. But you were there. You made it better.

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” Dustin strolls up to the counter and sets his hands on his hips, impatient and demanding as always. You smile at him.

“Get the high score?”

“You know it! You better tell me if anyone beats it.”

“Always do, Dusty.”

He gives you that toothy grin that you love. He really is a great kid. He then turns to Eddie and gives him a look that said ‘let’s go.’

“Well, duty calls. It was nice to see you.”

“You too, Eddie. See you.”

“Bye, pretty.”

He’s out the door before you can properly react to his term of endearment. You certainly could get used to hearing it from him, though.

In the van, Dustin eyes Eddie before saying, “so did you ask her out?”

“What?”

Dustin huffs, like it’s obvious. “You were all oh my gosh, swoon, as soon as you saw her. Seriously.”

“I was not,” was he? Eddie had no idea what he was feeling but he knew that you were pretty, and that he wanted to spend time with you again. That was it.

“You were! She was too, so you guys should totally date.”

“Listen here, Henderson. I’m the elder, so I give the advice and make the decisions. It’s not like that, just haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“Sure.”

It’s the weekend after that day at the arcade and your friends have managed to wrangle you into a night out. You weren’t opposed to going it, you just had to be in the right mood. That mood didn’t come until they told you Corroded Coffin would be playing.

Eddie’s band.

You don’t want to admit it, but you’ve been waiting for him to come in again since last time. And every time Dustin walked in, you’d peek behind him to see if Eddie would be following. So far, he never was, so you took this chance to see him again.

It worked, because he was on stage when you walked in. You froze for a moment, taking him in. He was playing his guitar, and there was sweat dripping from his forehead and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter. He was really something.

Your friends tugged you over to the bar, forcing your attention away from Eddie. You took turns placing your orders and grabbing your drinks.

Eventually, you made your way to the dance floor with your small group. You didn’t think you’d have fun, but you were. Letting loose and moving along with the songs Eddie and his band were playing.

You spared a glance over to the stage, and Eddie was already looking at you when you glanced at him. Your eyes locked and he gave you a smirk before looking back at his guitar. He seemed like a whole new person up there, confident and free.

It was a great sight to see. Him in his element.

Each time you looked over at Eddie, he’d be looking, too. Or at least, you were convinced he was. Sometimes he’d smile, or wink, and sometimes he’d just look away as if he’d been caught. It was a push and pull and you were bathing in the slightest attention from him.

Closer to the end of his set, you drifted off to the bar, taking a seat and really watching him play. The whole band was incredible, but you couldn’t get your eyes off of Eddie and you’re pretty sure he knew it. Your friends were still dancing away, some with partners for the night.

When the last song was played, you were determined to be the loudest one cheering.

Eddie was feeling a lot. Ecstatic that you showed up, that you looked at him so much during his set and that you shied away from him every time he’d give you an expression back. It was cute. He was nervous too, though. Nervous to know what you thought about his music and his performance. You just made him nervous in general.

He still wanted to talk to you. To hear you laugh and see you smile up close. God, maybe Dustin was right.

Gareth came up behind Eddie backstage, a hand on his shoulder. “Good one tonight, right? Even saw you making goo goo eyes.”

“Wha- Goo goo eyes?”

“Yes. So will you introduce me?”

“Gareth, she went to school with us. You literally know each other.”

His friend huffs, “okay. Re-introduce, then.”

“Fine.”

Eddie and Gareth make their way through the crowded bar, the Hideout. The former spots you easily, from your black Doc Martens all the way up to your hair. He takes the seat next to you, Gareth on his other side.

“Hi, pretty.”

It takes you a second to recover from the nickname. “Oh! Hi, Eddie. And Gareth. You guys were amazing.”

Eddie’s beaming at the praise. He treasures his music and to hear that you enjoyed it means a lot to him. Like, a lot.

“Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Eddie was close to you, his arm brushing against yours.

“Me three!” You had almost forgotten Gareth was there.

You strike up a conversation with him, though. Asking about the band and how Gareth likes it. He’s kind, and you think he’d get along with one of your friends so you beckon her over and introduce them. She and Gareth are lost in their own chat, so you get Eddie to yourself once more.

“So, you liked it?”

“Liked it? Eddie, you guys are insanely good. I loved it. You look so alive up there, like it’s where you belong.”

His heart was soaring. The way that you could see how much he loved to perform, that you could tell he loved it from one single set. He was amazed by you.

“Thank you,” he looks down, blushing. “I’m happy you think so. Next time you come see me let me know, I’ll get you to stand sidestage, sound good?”

Holy shit. “Yeah. Perfect, actually.”

You can’t believe you and Eddie hadn’t become friends until now, until Dustin dragged him into the arcade. You wish that you’d been closer to him in school, that you could’ve had years of his company already.

At least you know him now.

“So, how do you like working at the arcade?”

“It’s alright. Loud, and sometimes boring. Dustin and his friends brighten it up. They’re great kids.”

“They are. Shitheads, too.”

You laugh, a small one, but it’s there. Eddie feels accomplished that he’s the one who drew it out of you.

“Yeah they are. You do anything for work other than music?”

And so, the small talk grows from there. He learns about your hobbies and you learn about his life with his uncle and everything. It’s nice, and it’s rare to find someone so easy to talk to for you.

At some point, Gareth and his other band mates pull Eddie away for a second. The friend you’d set up with Gareth is with them, for some reason.

When they’re far enough away, she speaks first. “She likes you, Eddie,” before he can protest she continues, “trust me. I’m her friend, and I can tell.”

“You should ask her out, dude,” Gareth is next to talk.

His sentence is followed by agreements from everyone else.

“No way, guys. We’ve talked like twice. It’s too soon, okay?”

“No it’s not. Come on, man.”

��Maybe.”

He leaves with that, back to find you. He wants to ask you out, he does. He’s just afraid that you’ll say no, that he’ll scare you off. So, he decides he’ll wait. As long as you need him to.

What he doesn’t know is that you’re eagerly waiting for him to make a move.

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

“No problem.”

“So, where were we?”

“Mmm, something about…” You glance at his lips, the next word coming out quiet. “I don’t remember.”

His gaze flicks between your eyes and your mouth, he thinks you’re about to kiss him. Maybe he doesn’t have to wait too long after all.

But, before you can make contact, your friend taps your shoulder, whispers something, and runs off to the washroom.

“Oh gosh,” you look at Eddie, an apology written on your face. “I’m sorry, I have to go. My friend, she’s throwing up and-”

“Shh. It’s fine. Until next time, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You stand up, and so does he. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him down for a hug. His arms hold your waist tightly, his head tucked against yours. It was really, really nice. You breathe in his scent, he’s doing the same.

It's a bit before you pull away.

“Bye, Eddie.”

“See ya, pretty girl.”

You find it really hard to walk away from him, but your friend needs help and you’re not one to abandon them, so you leave.

The next time you see Eddie he’s yet again in his element; leading a Dungeons and Dragons campaign with Hellfire.

During Dustin’s latest visit to the arcade, he informed you of the week's meeting, and how excited he was for it. You couldn’t stop yourself from asking if you could tag along, if you could watch. He was quick to say yes, eager to get you and Eddie in the same room again, this time with backup.

You were excited to see Eddie doing something he loves once more. You were excited to see him in general, honestly.

His friends also seemed great, and you wanted to meet them all properly. Dustin assured you they’re great, and that you’ll get along just fine. You believed him.

When Eddie found out you were coming, he was nervous. He didn’t know what you’d think and he didn’t want you to think he was weird. He didn’t want you to look at him the way everyone else did. Like he was a freak, someone who didn’t belong. He never cared so much about what people thought. Not until he met you.

On the night of the campaign, he’s jittery. He fiddles with his rings more than usual, twisting them around his fingers, taking them on and off, anything that will keep his hands occupied. He messed with his hair enough that he had to try to tame it before you arrive.

You leave earlier than Dustin told you to, and you’re not sure if it’s because you just want to make sure you aren’t late or if it’s to get some time alone with Eddie before everyone else gets there. You weren’t used to feeling this way about someone, to have the urge to see them and speak with them as much as you could. To feel a pull.

The drive to Eddie’s trailer is spent psyching yourself up, giving yourself a pep talk and some time to figure out what you’ll even say when you get there. You think you want to flirt with him, more obviously than you have been but you’ve never been good at that. Eye contact and shy smiles were sort of all you could muster.

Parked outside of Eddie’s, you flip down your car mirror to make sure you can deem yourself presentable. You run your pinky under your eyes to smudge your eyeliner out and brush away mascara flakes from the day, you apply a new layer of lip gloss, you’re about to check on your hair when a knock on your car window startles you.

It’s Eddie. Fuck, how much of that did he see, you wonder.

The answer is pretty much all of it. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie went outside as soon as saw your car pull up through his window. He stood on the porch for a second, but decided he’d rather say hi and hear your voice. He thinks it’s really sweet that you felt the need to touch up your makeup before seeing him, even though he thinks it’s completely unnecessary. It’s sweet, nonetheless.

Once your car is shut off, he opens your door and holds out a hand for you, “m’lady.”

“Thanks,” you take it and get out of the car. You decide to pull him into a hug, your arms around his neck to pull him in, just like you did at the Hideout. “Hi, Eddie.”

He hugs you right back, chin perched on your shoulder and nose buried in your hair. He squeezes you as he greets you, “hi, pretty.”

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you to look at your face, the color of your eyes and the way your eyeliner brings them out. He thinks the nickname he’s given you is quite perfect, because you really are pretty. Your signature boots on your feet and the rings on your fingers that match his nicely, chunky and silver.

If anyone was made for him, he’s pretty sure it’s you. He has no idea how to tell you that.

“Come on,” he leads you up the few steps to his front door, opening it and beckoning you inside. He stays by the door while you take a look around, shy about the lack of space he has, but it’s home.

“It looks so cozy in here,” and you’re being honest. The blankets thrown about the living room and the pillows on the couch, the soft lighting and the slightly messy kitchen. It looks lived in and you love that.

“I’m sorry it’s a mess. And kinda small,” he scratches the back of his neck.

“It’s great, Eddie. Honest.”

He smiles at you, close-mouthed and small, but a smile. You hate that he feels bad about where he’s living, that he feels the need to apologize for it. You walk back over to him and tug him to the couch, sitting down and waiting for him to do the same.

You keep your hand on his arm for longer than necessary.

“So, what should I expect? I’ve never actually seen anyone play DnD, only heard Dusty talk about it.”

“It gets kinda loud, but it’s ‘cause we’re all sort of invested in it. I just hope we don’t scare you off because of it.”

“You could never, trust me.”

Eddie’s struck by the sincerity in your tone, the way you keep your eyes on his when you say it. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so convinced that someone wants to stick around, that he’s ever believed them. But you, you have a way of speaking that makes him trust everything you say, soft and kind and it eases him like a glass of water on a hot Hawkins summer day.

He’s sort of lost in you, his eyes flickering across your face and he notes a stray strand of hair that’s fallen over your forehead. He reaches out and pushes it back, his touch light as ever but your skin burns where his fingers were all the same.

You think you’re about to kiss yet again when heavy-handed knocks on the door snap you both out of it.

From then on, the group builds up until everyone is there, gathered around Eddie’s coffee table on pillows while you sit on the couch and watch.

He was right, the atmosphere is rowdy, sort of chaotic but it’s full of passion and you can see why they enjoy the game so much. It’s exciting, even for you: someone who knows almost nothing about it. You can't help but smile when they seem to be winning, to cheer when they do.

Through it all, though, your focus was mainly on Eddie. He was so animated, so lively in his task to narrate the game that it filled the room, a contagious energy that’s undeniable. Every single person in that room was so invested, so thrilled and it was because of him. You were kinda, sort of, maybe in awe of him and the way he moved. The authority he seemed to hold.

Once the session ended, you pulled him aside. “That was something else, Eddie, really.”

“Like in a good way?”

“Of course! I could watch you for hours, you’re so captivating.”

He’s blushing. He’s not the best at taking compliments and coming from you, he’s even more bashful about them.

“Thank you,” he smiles, this time it’s a full one. Boyish and wide.

“Thank you for letting me come watch. I don’t really wanna leave but…I’m working tomorrow.”

“It’s no problem, I’m glad you were here. I’ll walk you.”

He does, out the door and right to your car. You both pause at your car door. You lean against it, back against your vehicle and Eddie lets his arms rest on the roof of it, caging you between them. It’s a position that keeps you close to each other.

“Thanks again for having me. I had a really good time.”

“You’re sweet. And welcome anytime.”

There’s a stillness in the air, a question lingering of will you or won’t you kiss. Both of you can feel it, neither of you lean in for a while. When Eddie does, he gets nervous at the last second and swerves to kiss your cheek instead. You hide your disappointment.

He then pulls you into the hug that feels so familiar, easy.

“See you, pretty.”

“Bye.”

He lets you go and heads back inside, and you drive away. When he opens the door, everyone’s looking at him.

“What?”

“Fucks sake, Eddie,” Dustin huffs.

“What?” He repeats

“Dude. Really? You didn’t even kiss her?” Jeff is next to talk, as if it’s that easy.

“Did you at least ask her out?” Gareth asks.

“Um,” Eddie’s feeling put on the spot, “no..?”

“Eddie!” They all say it at the same time.

“If you don’t get your shit together and ask her out, I swear.”

Eddie can’t even keep track of who’s saying what, all he knows is that they’re saying ‘it’s so obvious,’ and ‘are you that dumb?’

The one that sticks with him is when Dustin says, “she couldn’t even stop looking at you. Smiling like a fool the entire time. It’s kind of gross.”

Fuck, he likes you so much. The possibility that you like him too is enough to get him to devise a plan. With the help of Hellfire, of course.

Eddie had the plan ready the night of the meeting, but it took him nearly a week to get the courage to actually go through with it. It wasn’t major; he’d show up just before you close at work with some food, talk to you over dinner sort of like a date, seal the deal by asking you out for real. Hopefully kissing you.

You had a long day at the arcade. The people were extra noisy and time went by extra slowly. You couldn’t help but hope that Dustin and his friends would come in. That they’d bring Eddie, too. Every time the door opened you’d check for that familiar head of hair. No luck.

To make it all worse, five minutes before closing you hear the door open once more. You throw your head back and sigh in defeat. Longest day ever.

“Sorry, we’re closing!” You put on your ‘customer service voice,’ cheery and overly kind.

“‘S just me, pretty! Can I come in?”

You perk up right away because that’s Eddie’s voice and you know it. You make your way to the door and the smile that blooms on your face at the sight of him is so wide it’s kind of pathetic. You like him so much.

“Eddie!” You wrap him in a hug.

“Oh,” he’s surprised, you’ve never been so enthusiastic to see anyone, he doesn’t think. He doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, “hi.”

You squeeze him tight before pulling away, “sorry. Hi.”

You take a small step back, slightly embarrassed that you pounced on him so quickly, but you’d been wanting to see him all day and here he was. He looked pretty, his hair damp like he showered before coming, his cheeks a little flushed.

“Brought some food. Eat with me?” He holds up the takeout bag held in his hand.

“Yes, please.”

You lock the door and flip the sign to closed, then gesture for him to follow you into the office so you could eat at the desk together. He trails behind you, admires the way you walk and your outfit of the day.

The two of you sit down, and Eddie unpacks the bag, smiling proudly when you tell him he got your order perfectly. He’ll remember to thank Dustin for that later. You eat together and it’s nice, it’s peaceful.

He asks about your day, you tell him and do the same. You could easily get used to this. Eddie with you for dinner, the conversation and the way he’s able to make you laugh without really trying. Everything stays light while you have your meal.

At one point, Eddie leans forward and wipes something away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. Neither of you say anything about it.

Once the table’s cleared, Eddie prepares himself to tell you how he feels, to ask you out. He’s nervous, of course he is, but he feels comfortable around you and if the dinner you just had was in any way similar to what a date would feel like, he needs to ask.

“So,” he starts. “I actually came here to talk to you about something.”

You look at him, showing him he’s got your attention fully and wait for him to continue. You’re really, really hoping he’ll say what you think he’s going to.

“I.. um.” He fumbles with his words, takes a deep breath, and tries again. “I wanted to know if you’ll go out with me? Like a real date?”

“Really? Me?”

You want to say yes, you want to scream it, but you need to be sure that he means it. If his actions tell you anything, he certainly does.

“Are you kidding?” He pulls your chair closer to his, reaches for your hand and holds it. “Yes, you. I like you. An insane amount and I have since that kid dragged me in here. I’m glad he did because we got to talk and I was like, wow, you know? And-”

“Eddie?” You cut him off.

“Yeah?”

“I like you an insane amount, too. Will you kiss me?”

“Holy shit.” He whispers, then, his mouth is on yours.

He kisses you like he’s been starving for it. You know you have. It’s sort of messy, but it’s slow and careful at the same time. He holds your neck softly, just enough to angle your head the way he wants, and you love every second of it.

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way before in his life. No, he knows he hasn’t. Kissing you is addicting to him, and now that he’s done it once he doesn’t know if he can hold himself back. Though, by the way you’re pulling him closer by his shirt, he doesn’t believe he’ll need to with you.

You pull away only when you need the air, your forehead against Eddie’s and hands still holding his shirt. A satisfied smile spreads across your face.

“Does that mean you’ll let me take you out, pretty?” He asks.

“Obviously.”

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