#Eddie’s friends laugh at EDDIE when they realize

[jo-harrington]

Antiquing v. Thrifting (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: You have a little booth at the local antique market and the owner of the neighboring booth tends to get on your nerves.

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Slight enemies to lovers, meet cute, misunderstandings, fluff, banter

Note: This is a late birthday gift to one of my fandom loves who has become an amazing friend IRL too. @bettyfrommars. Betty thank you for being one of my weirdo soulmates, loving old gameshows, wishing we could live in a mid century modern house with all of the original fun appliances. You are one of my favorite people and since I can't send you my bowling ball (one day) I've written this for you. Love you.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

--

There was not much to drive you to want to murder someone. In fact, you would say that you were probably one of the most easygoing people you knew. And you knew plenty of people.

But the person at the receiving end of your ire, and the target of your bloodlust, was one of the most inconsiderate assholes you knew.

Actually, you didn’t even know who it was.

You’d been one of the vendors at The Little Traveler's Antique Market for years. You had a booth along the back wall, acquired when you realized your love of vintage Pyrex was getting a little too overzealous for your shoebox-cum-condo. Besides, the thrill of the hunt was the real thing that you enjoyed: estate sales and rummage sales and thrift stores were filled with treasures just waiting for you to find.

So a few shelves of Gooseberry and Butterprint went up, and eventually it turned into a haven for all sorts of vintage pieces. It was a shrine to your whims, rather than any real desire to find monetary value. Of course, people seemed to flock to it, so the cash you made from it was nice..but that was neither here nor there.

It was something you were good at, and something you loved. You'd met some very interesting people--and some of your closest friends--because of it. Heard the best stories.

Unfortunately, you'd also met some of the most insufferable people because of it too. Or rather, in this case, one insufferable person you pointedly had not met.

It had started when a bunch of Royal Doulton character mugs showed up in your space. And they weren't terrible, but they just weren't yours. Your hand-picked selection of Hazel Atlas glasses had been carelessly shoved to the side on a vintage mahogany sideboard you'd painstakingly hauled in, and in their place were Paddy and Toby and George Fucking Washington, all staring goofily up at you.

Ok, so maybe the Anne Boleyn one wasn't bad.

It was the principle of it. There were unspoken rules in an Antique Market. You just didn't encroach on someone else's space.

You painted the kindest smile you could manage--which, in all honesty, probably looked more like you were baring your teeth--and headed up to the front to confront the manager of the market.

"Margie," you began with a saccharine tone. You set the Anne Boelyn mug down on the counter. "May I kindly ask who Seller 86 is?"

"Oh, that's our new guy," she laughed, oblivious. "Ed. Great guy. He's got some fun stuff."

"Yeah, real fun."

"We did a little shuffle over the weekend," she continued, diving into one of her rambling midwest-isms. "Jim wanted to downsize, which opened a bigger space for Michelle to move into. One thing led to another, and I put Ed in Chelle's old space, next to yours. Hope you don't mind."

What could you say except a cordial of course not? Even as you were left to grumble and mope back to your booth to move all of the Royal Doulton back to Ed's new space. You set them out on a folding table he had in the corner, very nice and neat, which was your standard.

You might have also left a little, tiny, friendly, scathing note.

No big deal.

And you wouldn't lie, you snooped a little.

Come on, everyone else would, too. It was just...shopping. Not snooping.

You couldn't judge the wild array of things he had for sale; much like you, it seemed that everything in Ed's booth was suited to his tastes, because there was just a vibe of "who in their right mind would put some of this shit together." Little taxidermy animals playing poker, postcards from the most random places, vintage beer and coffee cans that, though empty, looked as new as the day they were bought. Garfield and Snoopy memorabilia. And mugs...so many mugs, as far as the eye could see.

It was charming, you could admit that, as long as it all stayed on his side of the vaguely-defined boundary between your booths.

Unfortunately, it did not.

It was never anything major but it was enough to annoy you. Books left out on a table, vinyl records in a crate in a corner, gaudy biker costume jewelry thrown in one of your mixing bowls. Each time you went to restock your booth, you'd have to find whatever treasures he left behind and return them, along with another note.

It was like finding the secret little corner where your cat pissed because they were mad at you. Admittedly, this might've been worse because you were proud. So very proud of your booth. It was a snapshot of you, after all. But that was sullied by little pieces of Ed, a guy you didn't even know, who seemed to enjoy pissing strangers off.

Every week, he metaphorically photobombed your snapshot at the last second and your perfect polaroid had bunny ears.

Or a crude gesture.

Or sometimes even his whole, bare ass.

And you were simply not vindictive enough to do anything about it.

It just wasn't worth the trouble to actually return the favor to him, or better yet, get him kicked from the market altogether. What if his little booth was his livelihood? What if this was how he made ends meet? Your pride wasn't worth ruining something for someone else.

Yes. You were a pushover.

You, surprisingly, got a reprieve for a few weeks.

Each time you'd gone to restock your booth with fun new treasures, there were no hidden trinkets waiting for you. Actually, Ed's booth didn't even look like it had been restocked or touched at all. There were holes in his displays where his wares had been purchased but not replenished. Was he on vacation? Maybe he was under the weather.

You took it upon yourself to spend a few minutes shuffling his mugs like a good neighbor would.

It was a disappointment relief.

Why wouldn't it be a relief? It wasn't like you'd started looking forward to what and where you'd find Ed's little surprises. It wasn't the thrill you'd get when the adrenaline spiked with your anger.

No, not at all.

"What's got you so pouty?" Margie asked as you trudged through the doors about three weeks after Ed's initial disappearance. "Did Dunkin get your coffee wrong again? That's how I know my morning is gonna be shitty."

"Must've woken up on the wrong side of the bed," you gave a weak excuse and headed towards your booth.

You were juggling an armful of tote bags and your coat, so you didn't notice the stranger standing in your space as you approached, until they turned around and spotted you.

"Oh, hey, lemme help you with that," came the rasp of a friendly voice as you rounded the corner. You looked up, surprised, as a set of hands hoisted the heaviest of your tote bags from your grasp.

He was like a relic, frozen in time. In a good way, though, like a well-kept polaroid from the 80s. Faded band tee, bootcut blue jeans, leather jacket that looked butter-soft from eons of wear. His hair was on the longer side and tied back; salt-and-pepper streaks proudly confirmed his personal antique status, along with the crows feet surrounding his deep, warm brown eyes.

He was a gentleman...and he was cute.

You felt like an idiot as your eyes slid down to his left hand on instinct. But there was no ring, so that self-loathing feeling disappeared. Well, no wedding ring, actually. He had a gunmetal band on his pointer finger, and a silver signet ring on his pinky.

Time returned to its appropriate speed as he hauled the tote onto your folding table just a few feet away.

"Jesus, what've you got in here? Bricks?" he laughed. "Are you trying to put Home Depot out of business?"

"Uh..." You floundered for words. "P-pewter tea pots. One of my regulars is getting married. Asked me to keep an eye out for them for her centerpieces."

"Never seen that at a wedding before."

"How many weddings have you been to?" You questioned.

"Well, my buddy Gareth alone has gotten married 3 times." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned his hip against your sideboard. "So I think I've got a pretty good chance that I've seen it all.

"Is there anything I can help you find today?" you asked, laying your best customer service voice on thickly. You busied yourself with unpacking your bags so you wouldn't have to look at the charming, crooked smile that settled on his mouth. "Was there anything that caught your eye before my hopeless self stumbled over here?"

"Ah," he pushed off the sideboard and tilted his head up so he could scratch along the length of his neck. "I, uh, was looking at your cookie jars, actually."

"Oh yeah?" You looked up at that and glanced over to the hutch in the corner that held an array of Pillsbury doughboys in various, charming poses. "Can I tell you a secret? I used to hate watching commercials with Poppin' Fresh. That claymation was frightening. I think he's pretty cute now, though."

You abandoned your unpacking and approached the hutch to try and figure which cookie jar he'd been intrigued by. You picked up a jar that had its lid askew and were about to ask if he wanted you to bring it up to the counter for him, when you lifted the lid and looked inside.

And found a rubber-banded stack of Metallica cassettes carefully nestled inside.

You felt your face get hot as you stared at the track listing and colorful cover art of Ride the Lightning. Coincidentally the same album that was on this newcomer's t-shirt.

"So," you huffed and slammed the lid on the cookie jar, careless of any damage it might cause. "You're Ed, huh?"

He chuckled behind you, "Eddie, actually. I prefer to go by Eddie. But yeah, that's me." You pivoted on your heel and glared at him; he faltered under your burning gaze. "Nice to, uh, meet you. Neighbor."

And with that, you let him have it.

You might've blacked out at some point during the absolute barrage of a verbal dressing down you gave him. How dare he not respect the etiquette of the market and stay within the confines of his allotted space, how dare he waste your time week after week as simply minded your own business and sold your trinkets, and how dare he ignore every single note that you left behind.

The fucker had the audacity to look amused with every word that fell from your lips.

In the end, you stood there, huffing and puffing as you caught your breath and felt several months of anger finally extinguish.

"You done there, killer?" Eddie asked with a smirk. "You feel better?"

"Yeah," you shouted one last time, then lowered your voice. "Yes I do."

"Alright, good." He nodded. "Gotta get it out sometimes, otherwise you might get an ulcer. Or develop alcoholism."

"Might be close to both, to be honest," you muttered.

"Shit, then I'm extra, extra sorry that I put you through all of that, sweetheart." He laid a hand over his heart. "This is my first rodeo selling in a place like this, I didn't realize that everyone was so...territorial."

"Yeah, well. Most of the time I'm not." Lies. You were a liar. "I think the thing that pissed me off more is that I kept leaving notes for you and you kept ignoring them and messing with my shit."

Eddie looked bashful all of a sudden. "Oh shit. See I thought you were just flirting with me."

Talk about a record-scratch moment; what...what had he just said?

"Flirting?" you asked.

"I mean, yeah, not to sound cocky either because I was definitely flirting right back at you. What do they call it in the movies? A...meet cute moment? I thought it was fun. You leave me a sarcastic, threatening note, and I leave you a little treasure hunt to solve. Like a...fucked up version of You've Got Mail."

"That's nothing like You've Got Mail," you pointed out.

There was a beat.

"I think this is a really good time to mention that I fell asleep halfway through You've Got Mail," he explained with a laugh. "Regardless, I read things wrong. That's on me. But I'm sorry. I'll never do it again."

He held his hand out to you and his brows shifted upwards and behind his dated bangs.

You worried at your bottom lip for a moment and tried to claw at the vestiges of your anger for a second, but this guy...he looked like such a kicked puppy...and you suppose that it was a cute way to flirt with someone you'd never met.

God, you really needed to work on that pushover thing.

"It's alright," you told him as you slid your hand into his and accepted his apology. "As long as you don't do it again."

"Cross my heart," he nodded enthusiastically.

You introduced yourself, formally, and offered your help in the future if he needed it. He introduced himself and told you that he would appreciate any pointers that you had to give.

"I'm pretty new to this whole...thrift thing," he shrugged. "I've had a bunch of this stuff in storage for a while. I used to move around a lot, you accumulate a lot of junk. And then my uncle...some of this stuff is his. Was his. He passed away last year. Finally decided I couldn't keep hoarding it all anymore. Turns out, I had a lot more shit than I thought I did."

"Story of my life," you laughed and offered your condolences. "It's hard, deciding what to keep and what to get rid of."

"Tell me about it."

"But, I do have one main lesson for you," you offered.

"Oh yeah?" he smirked. "Already? Just when I thought I couldn't fuck it up any more."

"It's an Antique Market," you told him. "Not a Thrift Store."

"There's a difference?" Eddie asked sarcastically, although a blush bloomed on his cheeks. "Guess the learning curve is much steeper than I thought."

"It's alright. You'll get it sooner or later." You smiled at him, trying to be as friendly and supportive as you could.

He stared at you for maybe a few seconds too long, then shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked forwards on his heels.

"Maybe you could explain it to me, in-depth?" he questioned. "Antiquing, thrifting, whatever."

"Of course," you agreed, but he cut you off before you could say anything else.

"Over lunch?" He asked with a nervous smile. "There's a great diner up the road. And I figure I owe you one for all the anguish I put you through anyway."

You stared at him in shock for a second, wondering how to respond. First there was the comment about the flirting...and now this. What if he was a creep? But he didn't seem like as much of a jackass as you thought he was...and he was cute.

Oh, what the hell.

"You know what? Why not? I'm a girl who loves a free patty melt," you winked at him bravely. "It's a date!"

[nburkhardt]

Robin watches from Steve’s car, sitting on the hood and wishing she was a tiny bit closer to hear what’s happening. She knows the plan; had him repeat it twice before deciding he’s ready and sent him off.

Steve walks closer to the school and waits for Hellfire to get out. He’s nervous, despite Robin’s pep talk.

The door is still firmly shut and no sigh of movement yet, he wipes his hands against his legs and holds back the absolute need to run them through his hair. Looks back towards Robin and gets a thumbs up before looking back at the still closed door.

He hears laughter before the door finally opens and there’s the group he’s been waiting for. Dustin somehow manages to smile wider, while Mike rolls his eyes and Lucas waves at him. The older members, eye him and he holds his breath as he meets eyes with the one he’s really here to see.

Eddie Munson has been the center of Steve’s head and heart for a while now. It wasn’t much of a surprise to him, not really, at least.

Taking a deep breath he makes his way over and pats Dustin on the shoulder as he passes him, stopping right in front of Eddie.

Eddie’s smile is gone and Steve wishes it would come back already. Hoping he can put it back, actually. Clearing his throat, he opens his mouth and-

“Dinner?”

Immediately shutting his eyes, cursing his brain for being dumb when a pretty boy is looking at him. Turning around he feels his face get hot as he moves at a reasonable pace - definitely not running.

“So?”

Steve looks at Robin, not daring to look towards Eddie, “the plan,” he sighed, “did not go as planned.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “You dumb fuck, Dingus. What happened?”

Groaning, he drops his head against the car and counts to three. Hopes she won’t laugh at him, but knows better. Knows she’ll definitely laugh and when they get back to work tomorrow, that he’ll see her giggling and adding yet another tally mark to the whiteboard.

“I lost all my words and just said dinner to him then ran away. Because he was looking at me!” He doesn’t whine, at least he hope it’s not whining.

Just as he knew already, Robin immediately starts laughing and patting his back, “oh you poor, poor soul. What am I going to do with you?”

I’ll be honest I started writing this in October and lost all the words ever made and couldn’t finish it. So now it’s just a small piece on how Steve doesn’t have any game when it comes to pretty boys 😇

If anyone would like, you’re welcomed to contribute either a follow up OR Eddie’s point of view of this. If you do, please tag me!

Permanent tag list under the cut!

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @strangersteddierthings

[tommygotwrittenoff]

the fact that eddie and maddie have never interacted outside a group setting is so funny actually. you cannot tell me those two wouldnt get on like a house on fire. i fear the day we get a solo maddie and eddie scene is the day we get buddie canon

[reisspieces]

cala calling Leo ‘Leo’ while Eddie was out here calling Leo by his government name

[eddiesxangel]

1-800-HOT-TO-GO | E.M

Anonymous asked: Can i request a fic where either the reader reveals during a pizza and beers hangout she was a phone sex operator for a brief time and everyone is shocked and one of them jokingly asks if she was any good and she whispers something dirty in their ear and it changes their friendship

Cw: fem!reader, allusions to male masturbation, dirty talk 1.7k words

“Come again?”

“I used to work a sex hotline,” you shrug like it was no big deal.

“No way,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

You hear Steve and the others giggle around you, also in disbelief.

“Wanna bet?”

“Try me.” He wants to call your bluff because no way in hell did he not know this about you. You always were reserved when it came to talking about sex; never had you seemed promiscuous.

You hold up your hand to your ear, pretending it is a phone, and Eddie follows your lead.

“Ring ring,” he giggles.

“Hello.” You changed the pitch of your voice to be more sultry.

“Hi,” he smirks.

“Can I get a name, handsome?”

“ Eddie”

“Mmmm, hi, Eddie. I’m Candy.”

“Candy?”

He breaks character, but you don’t.

“the boys say it’s because I’m so sweet.” You fake giggle.

“This is my first time calling. I’m not sure what to do here.”

“That’s okay, I’ll walk you through it… you want to get comfortable for me?”

Eddie looks around the room at the others, who are trying to stifle their giggles. This night was supposed to be chill, with pizza and beers. He wasn’t really sure how you all ended up here.

“I’m comfortable.” He says without actually moving.”

“I wish I could see; you sound so sexy.” You sigh.

Another giggle leaves Eddie’s lips because who is this person who’s taken over your body?

“Yeah? you wish you could see be, Dollface?” Playing into it more.

You lean in to whisper so only he can hear it this time. “oh yeah, big boy; I bet your cock is already nice and hard for me. Such a good boy, I want you to fill me.” You sit back, take a loose tendril, twirl his hair around your finger, and watch Eddie’s eyes widen at what you just said.

“Oh-okay, that’s enough.” He chuckles, trying not to give away how turned on he just got. “I believe you!”

You sit back with a giggle and grab another slice of pizza like nothing just happened.

Everyone looked at you with shock.

Eddie quickly gets up and excuses himself to go to the bathroom.

“What did you say?!” Robin begs.

You shrug in response like it was another day at work… which it has been.

“Damn, is it hot in here?” Steve pops the collar of his shirt.

“You guys need to loosen up, my god.”

While you were still enjoying your pizza, Eddie was having a crisis. Never had he thought of you in that way until moments ago, listening to those filthy words slip from your lips.

“I bet your cock is already nice and hard for me. Such a good boy, I want you to fill me,” your words replayed in his mind while he tried to fight the blood rushing to his stiffening cock.

He can’t go back out there like this. Eddie splashed cold water on his face to try to snap him out of it, but it didn’t help.

A quick rap on the door startles Eddie out of his inner monologue.

“You okay, big boy? You’ve been in there fifteen minutes.” He hears you laugh from the other side.

Had it really been that long?

Eddie’s issue had not been resolved; in fact, it had worsened as he tried to push down the thought of you naked and spread out for him… talking to him like that.

“Yeah-I-uh- just a minute.” Eddie wanted to pull his hair out at how frustrated you had made him.

You were just pals, bubbies, amigos.

You weren’t attractive… were you?

Eddie never thought to look at you in that way; you’re just a friend, always had been, always will be… unless?

The more Eddie thought about it, the more he realized he did think your hair looked really pretty tonight. The way you always did your makeup really brought out your beautiful features…and when he got a whiff of your delicious perfume when you twirled his hair, he couldn’t get enough.

“You sure?” You try to jiggle the door handle, but it’s locked.

“Shit,” Eddie curses under with breath.

“Come on, Ed, talk to me, please?”

You hear the lock unlatch and watch the doorknob slowly turn as Eddie pokes his head out.

“Hi,” he’s short and sounds a bit out of breath.

“I hope what I said didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

Ed saw the worried look in your eyes.

“No! Well, I mean, yes, but…no.”

“Yes, but no?”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. He didn’t see a way out of this. He stepped aside to let you in and shut the door behind you.

“Eddie?” You look up at him.

“Hm?”

His eyes snap to your concerned face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was a big deal! It did it all the time for work; I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. clearly, I overstepped a boundary-“

“You’re not the only one.”

“What do you mean?”

Eddie moves his strategically placed hands to reveal the tent formed in his jeans and watches as your face falls into amused shock.

You cup your mouth to stifle an unexpected giggle.

“That’s not the reaction a guy wants when he shows a girl how turned on he is.”

“I’m sorry, I just!-didn’t think?”

“It’s okay. I’m just trying to get rid of it, but it’s not going away.”

“You mean?”

“I’m waiting it out.”

“Oh, ok.” You nod awkwardly.

An awkward silence washes over the both of you as you try so hard not to stare at his crotch.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask for your help if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Ok…”

Another very uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, trying to do everything in your power so as not to look down.

“I um… I guess I’ll just.” You point to the door that he’s blocking.

“Uh. Ok,” he nods and steps to the side.

You close the door behind you but don’t leave. You lean against the door and take a deep breath, trying to make sense of the evening.

Why did the thought of turning Eddie on excite you? He’s a friend. Just a friend. I always had and always will be.

With a deep breath, you go to push yourself up off the door, but before you’re able to, you hear your name being moaned from the other side of the door.

You froze. You knew you should move, but your feet were locked in place. More heavy breaths and the sound of muffled moans seeped from under the door gap, and you pressed your ear to the door.

Eddie was jerking off because of you… and you liked it?

Eddie bit back screaming your name as he finally released himself into the bathroom tissue. Finally, he could return to rejoin everyone without being physically uncomfortable.

He discarded his release, tucked himself back in, washed his hands, and unlocked the door, but he was ambushed when you fell onto him when he went to open the door.

You let out a squeak as you lost your balance, falling into Eddie as the door was opened from under you.

“Woah,” Eddie catches you before you’re able to fall. His rage hands wrap around your biceps, gripping tightly to brace your fall.

“Were you spying on me?”

“Oh god, sorry” you’re so embarrassed. The whole evening has been one shit show. You scramble to find your fitting to create space between you and Eddie.

“You were spying on me!”

“Shhhhh! Keep your voice down.”

“You totally were spying on me!” He accused.

“You’re the one who moaned my name!” You defend.

Eddie’s cheeks reddened.

“You’re the one who said all those… things!” his hands flailed.

“You’re the one who egged it on!”

“So!”

“So?”

“Yeah, so!”

“Woah, guys, what’s going on here?” Steve pops his head around the corner.

“Nothing,” you both glare.

“Ohhhhhkayyyyyyyy,” Steve turns a heel and walks back to the kitchen to grab a drink.

“Eddie,” you sigh, “I don’t want to argue. This is dumb, and we can pretend it never happened.”

“We could, but I gotta know.”

“What’s that?”

“Did you like it?” He took a step closer, filling the gap between you.

“What?” You look up at him.

“I asked if you like listening to me?” he brushed your hair behind your shoulder.

You gulp, not expecting Eddie’s demeanour to switch on a dime.

“I… I don’t know?”

“I think you did, and you’re too scared to admit it.” You can smell him. He is so close to you.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You watch as he leans in closer.

“Just trust me.” His hands find the back of your neck, pulling you close.

“Eddie?”

“Let me try something.”

“Kay,” you whisper.

Eddie’s lips graze yours ever so lightly before he presses them fully.

A million and one thoughts run through your mind as Eddie kisses you.

You blame the cheap beer for letting this happen. You blame the beer for liking it. You blame the beer for kissing him back. You blame the beer for the tongue slip and the beer for how you wanted to moan when he pulled away.

“Woah”

“Yea woah,” you repeated dumbly.

“um… did you like it?”

“Yeah… did you?”

“Yeah.”

“cool… now what?”

“go out with me,” Eddie states confidently.

“Like a date?”

“what else would it be?” He chuckles.

“I don’t know?” You shrug, embarrassed that Eddie is getting you all flustered.

“You’re cute when you don’t know what to say.” He smirks.

“I’m cute?” You never thought hearing Eddie say those words would send butterflies fluttering through your tummy.

Eddie doesn’t answer verbally; he leans in to kiss you again to confirm his statement.

“We should get back to the others.” You sigh as you pull away.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“You didn’t ask me anything.”

“Yes, I did. I asked you out.”

“No, you said go out with me. That’s a statement, not a question.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No,” Yes, you were totally messing with him.

“Will you go out on a date with me?”

“Just say yes! You’ve been gone for half an hour!” You hear Robin yell from the living room.

“Robin!” You hear Steve scold.

“What?”

You can’t help but laugh and can’t believe the next world’s coming out of your mouth.

“Okay, I’ll go out with you, Eddie.”

[hairmetal666]

"Is this always how they act?" Jonathan asks. He has to lean close and yell a little for Robin to hear him over the noise of the house party.

"Yup," she says.

She, Jonathan, and Argyle continue to stare at Eddie, sitting in an easy chair, Steve perched happily on his lap. Eddie has a whole bowl of bbq Lay's, and Steve will lean back for a chip, which Eddie feeds him with a smile.

"And they're definitely not dating?" Argyle asks when Steve leans back to whisper in Eddie's ear, mouth pressed close. It's deeply gratifying that they just got in from California and already they see it.

"Steve says no."

"You think he's lying?" Jonathan asks.

"I think he doesn't realize he likes Eddie yet."

Eddie tugs at Steve's hair, and Steve turns back, gives him a smile that's so intimate Robin can't stare directly at it. Instead, she turns to her friends, but Argyle is still watching Eddie and Steve. He's drumming his fingers against his chin, expression what Robin could only call mischievous.

"What are you planning?" Jonathan asks.

"Just helping some bros find true love."

Jonathan looks mildly concerned but before he can say anything, Nancy makes her appearance. And they're something, becoming something, and she cares about Eddie and Steve getting their shit together, but Nancy is smiling and she's so, so pretty. It's easy to get lost in the blue of her eyes and the sweep of her hair and forget about everything else.

---

A few hours later and they're all sitting around a coffee table in the basement, just the six of them. It's sort of funny, she thinks, how it always ends up being the six of them.

They're crossfaded already, but that hasn't stopped Eddie and Argyle from lighting another joint. Her thoughts have gone light and floaty, all that's holding her to earth the press Steve's leg and Nancy's hand against hers.

Argyle is sort of monologuing and she doesn't think any of them are paying much mind, but then he stops mid-sentence, grips Jonathan's shoulder tight enough that his knuckles go white. "Dudes. What if we played Truth or Dare?"

Nancy snorts. "Not on your life."

"I don't think I can move?" She says. She leans into Steve, sighing with contentment.

"I, for one, would love to see Buckley complete a dare," Eddie says.

She sticks her tongue out at him. "I've done plenty. Band kid, remember?"

"Ugh, curse the horny trumpeters." Eddie slumps on the coffee table in defeat.

"I'll have you know, they were very wholesome games."

Steve squints at her. "Wasn't there an orgy in someone's pool?"

She sniffs, looks away instead of answering, which makes everyone laugh.

"Speaking of sex," Argyle says. "No one catch your eye tonight, Harrington?"

"Wasn't really looking."

"That's new," Jonathan says.

Steve laughs. "I'm tired of hooking up."

He's told her that too, countless times. She thinks the real reason he hasn't dated in months is sitting right next to him, drumming his fingers on the coffee table.

"Maybe you've just lost your touch," Argyle says.

"I have not!" Steve clutches a hand over his heart. "If I wanted to, I could pull any girl upstairs."

"C'mon, my dude, no way you're that good."

"I was!" He looks to Robin, Nancy, Jonathan. "I was, back me up!"

"I don't know, Scoops wasn't your best work," she says.

"No, no, we said Scoops doesn't count! It was the hat. The outfit! I did fine after!"

"I happened to think the sailor costume was very cute," Eddie says.

"Thank you," Steve preens. He shifts away from her to lean into Eddie, who grins.

"I don't think we can trust Eddie's judgement here," Nancy says.

Steve points at her. "Yes, and I remember you being totally uninterested."

She squeaks in indignation, Robin smothering her own giggles behind her hand. "It was--it was hormones!"

"Yeah, very uninterested in me." Jonathan chimes in. There's a little second where no one reacts--the fact that Nancy was technically still with Steve when that happened ringing unspoken between them--before Nancy and Steve start to giggle.

"I've hooked up with everyone I've ever tried to," Argyle chimes in, nonchalant.

"No way," the whole group says.

"I've got the touch."

"C'mon, that literally can't be true just by like...stats," Steve says.

"Don't know what to tell you, my dude." Argyle's smile is smug. "I'm really good."

"You're just jealous," she tells him. She nudges his shoulder so he knows she's joking.

"No! Jealousy has nothing to do with it."

They erupt at that, calling out the obvious lie.

"I'm not upset!" Steve shouts over them. "I'm just saying, it didn't happen. Sorry, Argyle. You have bizzaro charm, but there's no way it has a 100% success rate."

"Sounds like jealousy to me, Stevie." Eddie cocks his head with a smirk.

"Harrington, you're so cute when you're competitive," Argyle says. "Anyway, it worked on--"

"Don't say Jonathan," Nancy, Steve, and Robin all say.

"Hey! Why not me?'

"Well, it's just--" Nancy waves her hand in the air. "You're. I mean. It's not hard."

Jonathan groans, hides his face in his hands as they laugh.

"I'll prove it to you," Argyle says to Steve. "100% success rate."

"What?"

"I'm going to seduce you."

"Oh, shit," she says.

She knows what's going to happen even before Steve puts his hands on his hips, awkwardly cause they're sitting, cocks an eyebrow, and says, "Okay."

Eddie grumbles something she can't make out, but Steve shakes his head, laughs. "Nah, it's just for fun, right?"

"Until it works." Argyle tosses his hair.

Steve rolls his eyes. "Gimme your best shot."

They rearrange around the table, Eddie and Argyle swapping places.

Everyone is quiet for a second, Steve reaches for his drink. "You got great hands, Harrington," Argyle says.

"I--oh, what?" Steve splutters. He goes a little pink, and Robin thinks it's the first time she's seen him this flustered by a compliment.

"Yeah." Argyle takes his hand, traces along his palm and knuckles. "Big. Strong. Like you could really take care of someone."

Eddie kicks the table, sending it rocking, scattering empty cups and chip bags. Steve is crimson, totally oblivious to Eddie's flailing.

"Thanks," he mumbles. He doesn't pull his hand away. Robin, everyone, is riveted.

"No one's ever told you that?"

"No. No one."

"That's too bad. It's probably all about your hair and your eyes and your body."

Steve smiles and it's one she recognizes, flirty and a little wicked. "You noticed my body?"

Argyle laughs. "Oh, c'mon, you know everyone notices that."

"Would you believe it if I told you I don't get enough compliments?"

"Not on your life."

Steve leans into him, giggles. "Well, worth a shot, right?"

"Always. You wanna know the first thing I noticed about you?"

"Ass, right?"

"It was how much you love your friends but you hide it behind a facade of disapproval. Made me think maybe you weren't used to the love you want to give being reciprocated."

They're all locked in on Argyle and Steve, but she notices Eddie flinch, move like he's about to stand, Nancy reaching out to stop him. She thinks, then, for the first time, that maybe this is mean to him. He doesn't know it's not real.

"Oh," Steve says. His voice breaks, a little, and her heart breaks for him. "I--oh."

"Your ass was the second thing I noticed," Argyle quips and the tension around the table breaks, Steve giggling.

With smooth confidence she never would have expected him to possess, Argyle cards his fingers through Steve's hair. "Just had to touch it for myself." His voice is soft.

"That all you want to touch?"

Argyle grins. "Not even a little bit."

She watches, stunned, as Steve leans in, face almost touching Argyle's. Eddie makes a noise, a pained cough, and Steve leaps to his feet.

"I can't kiss you!" He half-yells, stumbling.

"And why not?" Argyle asks. He's got a wild smile on his face.

"I'm in love with Eddie!" Steve's eyes are wide, panicked.

"I'm sorry," Steve says to him. "Eddie, I--"

But before he can get the words out, Eddie's climbing over the coffee table, sending drinks and snacks flying, the calls for him to get down ignored as he trips into Steve's arms.

"You love me?" Eddie asks.

"I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I--got in my head about it and I--I hoped it didn't seem like I was leading you on because my words kept getting stuck, and--"

"Sweetheart." Eddie stops him. "I--" He breaks off, notices that the rest of them are raptly listening to the confession. "Do you want to go somewhere we can talk?"

They disappear upstairs, and she turns to Argyle in awe. "I can't believe that actually worked."

"What can I say, I'm a miracle worker. Are there more Doritos?"

---

Early in the morning, they're piled in Nancy's station wagon, Jonathan driving them home. She and Nancy are in the middle seat, Steve and Eddie in the back. Steve's curled against him, face pressed to his neck, hidden by a cloud of hair. She wants to ask what happened, how their conversation went, if they're official and how long Steve's known he's in love, but Nancy moves closer, head dropping to Robin's shoulder. Their fingers entwine and Robin closes her eyes, smiles.

"Tomorrow?" Nancy asks.

She nods. "Tomorrow."

[419jhat]

I've had this plot bunny for a while. I love the idea of a fic where Eddie is super famous and Steve has no idea who he is, but they meet and fall in love.

Like, Steve's just walking down the street, super sick, trying to find a convenience store so he can find anything to save his drippy nose and stop his cough, when he gets accosted by some dude on the sidewalk with his phone out. The guy and his friend are rambling about the latest Spotify hits and Steve notices a second too late that he's being recorded and that there's a microphone in his face, so he kind of shakes himself awake and adjusts his glasses so he can see the phone.

The guy's all decked out like a rockstar with tattoos and piercings and tight leather everything, and he wants Steve's opinion. But the problem is that Steve doesn't listen to music or pay attention to famous anything, so he kind of recoils, because he realizes this random guy is trying to make him listen to his mixtape.

“Is it good?” Steve asks.

The guy’s friend kind of blinks at him and says, “I mean, it's Eddie Munson,” like that's supposed to mean something.

“Never heard of it,” Steve says with a shrug, and the rockstar starts laughing like a lunatic.

“Well, can you just listen? We're getting street reactions to the new album,” the guy says, offering him an airpod.

Steve sighs and sticks the thing in his ear and rolls his eyes when he instantly recognizes the whiney guitar solo Dustin won't stop playing every hour of the day.

He shrugs and says, “I've heard better.”

This completely shocks the guy. The rockstar takes it as a challenge to try and flirt, but Steve's too sick to catch on so he sits there bitching about Corroded Coffin on camera until he gets bored and ditches the interview halfway to go get his meds. Meanwhile, Eddie's ego is bruised but he's kind of in love. This sparks an internet manhunt desperately trying to find the handsome mystery man who caught the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin's eye, and Steve being harassed by his friends when the interview goes viral.

[keeryhours]

please please please - eddie munson

Eddie Munson x female! Hopper! reader

Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

Eddie is no stranger to the Hawkins legal system. It’s no surprise to anyone when he’s dragged in in cuffs again, but it is unexpected when someone catches his eye - the police chief’s daughter.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, a little bit of sub!eddie, delinquent!eddie, talk of drugs, weed use

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N:

I’ve been stuck in the worst writing slump! So glad to finally finish something I feel good about and share with you guys :)

—

You spent most days after school sitting around the Hawkins police station, working on your homework until your dad was ready to take you both home. You weren’t the biggest fan of sitting in the empty house alone, and waiting for him here beat having to walk home since you still didn’t have a car.

You sat at an empty desk, chin in your hand as you tapped the pencil against your paper. The gentle chatter of the station filled your ears. You were bored, tired of fighting with your math homework, wishing you could be off with your friends instead of here.

The sound of the door opening abruptly caught your attention, your eyes moving to the source of the noise. Officer Callahan came in, leading a man in cuffs. A man - as if you ever could have mistaken Eddie Munson. The ‘Freak’ of Hawkins High. With his tall, lanky build, his mess of curly hair, and his metalhead attire, he was hard to miss.

Your dad stepped out of his office, a hand running over his mustache with a sigh. “What are you doing in my station again, Munson? Didn’t you and I have a good talk?”

“Just missed ya so much, Hop,” Eddie quipped back with a grin, looking much too cheerful for his current predicament.

“Caught him trespassing at the old factory,” Officer Callahan supplied, holding onto Eddie by the back of his jacket.

“Drugs?” Jim Hopper asked.

“Just half a joint,” Callahan answered.

Hopper let out another deep sigh. “I’m trying to work with you here, Eddie. This is your fifth arrest this school year alone. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you ending up behind bars for years of your life.”

Eddie shook his head with a grin, curls bouncing wildly. “I hear ya, Hop. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Evidently I do,” Hopper muttered. “How about this? You can spend the night here with us tonight, and you can think about whether that’s how you want to spend your life.” He claps Eddie on the shoulder hard before he’s turning to walk back into his office.

Officer Callahan leads Eddie through the station, Eddie smiling at the other officers as they pass like they’re on a first name basis, which they probably are. When his eyes meet yours, his grin grows even wider. He has a beautiful smile, which is something you’re just now noticing for the first time. He’s really hot in general, you realize. Only when your heart starts beating out of your chest at his attention. He shoots you a flirty wink as he passes, and then Callahan is roughly taking him back to the cells.

You think about Eddie for the rest of the day. Even when your dad comes out, pulling on his coat and says it’s time to head home. Even when you’re riding home in the passenger seat of the police vehicle, Hopper trying to make conversation about your day. When you sit down and eat dinner together. And especially as you’re laying in bed in the silence of the night.

You’re leaving school 2 days later, walking through the parking lot with your backpack slung over your shoulder when you’re stopped by a voice.

“Hey, Hopper!”

You turned at the sound, eyebrows raising at the sight of Eddie Munson walking towards you. “Weird to say that name and not be talking about your dad,” Eddie laughed when he reached you, a hand running through his curls.

You looked at him, confused why he was talking to you in the first place. “Uh, can I help you?”

Eddie gave you that big smile, bowing his head to you. “I was hoping you might do me the honors of spending the afternoon with me.”

You looked at him skeptically. “Me? Why?”

“Why not?” Eddie laughed, and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful of a smile he had again. “You seem cool. I want to get to know you better.”

That was how you found yourself in the back of Eddie Munson’s van, watching his long fingers rolling up a joint. Some kind of metal blasted from the car’s speakers, some band you definitely weren’t familiar with. Your stomach was in knots as you watched him deftly roll the paper.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you asked as Eddie finished up, realizing you’d run out of time to stall.

“‘Course it’s okay,” Eddie laughed, running his tongue along the paper. You watched intently as his long tongue poked out to trail along the seam of the joint. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“My dad…”

Eddie waved you off before you even finished your sentence. “Hop’s never gonna know. Calm down.” He produced a lighter from his pocket and handed you both with a flourish. “M’lady.”

You took them from him cautiously, as if they might explode in your hand. You looked over the foreign object. You were pretty sure you knew which side to light.

Your inspection was interrupted by Eddie’s chuckling. “You really haven’t done this before, huh?”

Your eyes met his and you blushed, casting your gaze downwards. “No. I’ve never smoked anything.”

“Ooh, a good girl,” Eddie teased, reaching forward to pluck the joint from your fingers. “I’ll get it started for you, baby.”

Your cheeks heated even more at the pet name, but you watched as Eddie placed the joint between his lips (you were correct about which side gets lit, at least) and flicked the lighter, bringing it to his face. The flame caught evenly, burning perfectly as Eddie breathed in a long drag. Once he’d taken two big puffs, he handed it back to you.

You took it from him with shaking hands. You brought it to your lips and breathed in just like you’d watched Eddie do - only to feel like your throat was on fire and start coughing your lungs out.

Eddie laughed hard, reaching to grab you a bottle of water. “It’s okay. Just try again. You don’t have to take a huge hit.”

Once your coughing fit had ended and you’d wiped the tears off your face, gratefully accepting the water bottle and taking a big sip, you worked up the courage to try again. You breathed in slower this time, following the instructions Eddie was giving you. This time you were able to get the smoke into your lungs and hold it there, letting it out in a shaking breath before you started coughing again.

“Atta girl!” Eddie praised, taking the joint back from you and bringing it back to his own mouth. “You’re a natural. Knew you’d like it.”

It didn’t take long before you began to feel it. The music sounded so good you just had to sway along, and everything Eddie said was so funny. Time felt like it moved in slow motion and life looked like you were watching a movie.

“Enjoying yourself?” Eddie asked, making himself nice and comfortable in the back of the van. His long legs were spread out before him, crossed at the ankles while his hands rested intertwined on his stomach.

You nodded, a dopey smile on your face. “Yeah, I’m…having a great time,” you said before falling into a fit of giggles.

Eddie laughed along with you. “Yeah, looks like it.” He looked you over, like he was admiring every part of your body. “I knew I could get you to loosen up.”

His music sounded heavenly in your ears now. You were so warm and cozy, you could have stayed here all night. You spent most of the night there with Eddie, just talking and laughing about any and everything. You realized it had been a long time since you’d laughed so hard and felt so free.

Eddie drove you home, thankfully early enough that you beat your dad there. Your head still felt fuzzy but you weren’t as blasted as you had been.

“Thanks,” you said shyly as you climbed out of the van. “For the ride home and the, uh…weed.”

Eddie gave you that huge grin again. “Any time, sweetheart.”

You spent yet another night with your thoughts full of Eddie. He was actually a cool person. But you knew your dad would never approve of that friendship, or what you had been up to tonight.

Hopper came home with pizzas in hand. You were relieved, since you’d had the munchies for hours and the snacks you and Eddie had devoured in the back of the van had long since worn off. He looked at you suspiciously when you laughed far too hard at his cheesy dad jokes, but didn’t question you.

You and Eddie were fast friends after that. Spending just about every day after school together, getting high, exploring abandoned buildings you weren’t supposed to be at, sitting in on Corroded Coffin band practice and Hellfire Club meetings. You had become near inseparable, something that was strange to his friends when he first brought you around, but now you were like a package deal. Where Eddie went, you were sure to follow, and vice versa.

Eddie continued having his run-ins with the Hawkins police, including your father. It seemed he was just incapable of staying out of trouble. He got bored, and once that boredom hit, he was sure to be off doing something stupid to entertain himself, no matter how you put your foot down or begged him not to.

You could hardly even be surprised when you were home one night and Hopper walked in, looking pissed as hell and grumbling under his breath as he slid off his jacket.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him, brows furrowed. You hadn’t seen him come home this worked up very often.

Hopper turned towards you, eyes softening as he took in his daughter’s face, not wanting to take his frustration out on you. He sighed again. “It’s that Munson kid. Caught him doing a deal and he ran. Had to put a warrant out for him.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised, but your mouth nearly dropped. You reined it in, however, since your dad isn’t even supposed to know you know Eddie at all. “Wow,” is all you can think to offer.

Hopper began heading towards his bedroom to shower and change before dinner. “I have tried and tried to help that boy,” he muttered, seemingly only to himself. “But he just doesn’t want the damn help.”

Eddie was on your mind as usual that night, but this time it was worry. You tossed and turned in bed once you laid down. What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into this time?

Ping. Ping.

The sound of something hitting your window jolted your attention in that direction. Sure enough, the sound came again, accompanied by a pebble smacking against the glass.

You climbed out of bed in your pajamas, feeling nervous as you approached the window. You pushed it open, leaning your head outside.

“Eddie?”

Sure enough, the metalhead stood beneath your window, looking more disheveled than usual. He gave you a big smile. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair…”

You rolled your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing here?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice as low as possible. Because really, how dumb is he to show up to the police chief’s house when there’s a warrant out for his arrest?

“Needed to see you,” Eddie said simply with a shrug of his shoulders. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, eyebrows raised high.

“Does it matter?” Eddie smiled.

You debated on it. You knew this was a terrible idea. But hell, it was more fun than being in your room alone. You held up a finger telling him to give you a minute before you slipped back into the room and threw on a pair of jeans and an oversized hoodie over the t-shirt you were sleeping in. Socks and sneakers on your feet and then you were climbing out your window for the first time ever, falling to the ground safely with Eddie’s assistance. His hands lingered on your hips once you were on the ground, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

Eddie had parked his van around the block. The two of you walked together in mostly silence, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves. Once you were safely in the van it felt like you could breathe again. Eddie cranked his music up, and took off.

“Are we fugitives now?” you teased, nighttime breeze blowing through the open window and whipping your hair around your face.

“Just me,” Eddie laughed. You laughed too, even though nothing about the situation was funny, really.

Eddie pulled the van to a stop on a back road, a spot hidden from prying eyes. “I thought we could sit here and just hang out,” Eddie explained as he saw you taking in your surroundings. “Maybe smoke a little, listen to music, whatever you want.”

That’s how you ended up in the back of the van again, a common hangout for the two of you. A joint shared between you and good music playing through the car’s speakers, you were both feeling amazing. You sat next to him, leaned against his shoulder as you enjoyed each other’s company.

“I always thought you were so pretty, you know.”

The words caught you so off guard you suspected you’d imagined them. But you turn to Eddie and he’s looking right at you, like he’s waiting for you to say something. Like he’s nervous.

“Y-you did?” is all you’re able to respond.

Eddie smiled softly. “Yeah, of course.” His hand comes up to cup your cheek gently. “I still do. You are pretty. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your skin felt like it was on fire. You knew you had to be red as a tomato right now, and you hoped the dim lighting in the van was enough to hide it from Eddie’s searching eyes. You knew you needed to say something, but you couldn’t make the words come out of your mouth.

Eddie brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. He was looking at you so intensely now, it made your heart beat out of your chest. He calls your name, and it sounds more beautiful on his tongue than you’ve ever heard it.

“I like you,” he said, looking right into your eyes. “I really like you. You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met. And you’re hot, funny, smart. The whole package.”

You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of Eddie’s mouth, and you were pretty sure the weed was making your brain work in slow motion. But he wasn’t laughing at his own joke, or saying he didn’t mean it. He was looking into your eyes, waiting for you to say something, anything, back.

“I…” you began, quickly realizing your throat was extremely dry. Eddie handed you a water bottle with a chuckle, and you took it gratefully. Once the water had soothed your throat (and given you a second to stall), you had enough courage to turn back to him. “I…I like you, too.”

Eddie’s face lit up at your words. “Yeah? You do?”

He was so cute, like an excited puppy. It was so easy to forget that this guy saw the police station as a second home and had a warrant out for his arrest that very moment. You briefly wondered if being here with him put yourself in any legal trouble, but you also didn’t really care. “Yeah. I really do.”

Eddie’s hand remained on your cheek, thumb rubbing softly over your skin. He brought his other hand to your other cheek, and then he was pulling you in. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest as you let him pull you until his lips were on yours.

Kissing Eddie felt more natural than you ever could have thought. It felt like you had always been doing this, his lips so familiar to you it was like you knew exactly what to do to drive him wild. Or maybe that was just the effect you had on him.

Eddie’s hands began to wander as you kissed him back deeply, leaving your face to trail up your thigh and to your hips, rubbing your sides over your hoodie.

He reached for the hem of your hoodie and quickly pulled it over your head. You were left in the thin pajama shirt, no bra underneath. You prayed he couldn’t see your nipples through your shirt, but with the way he was staring, you suspected he could.

“So hot,” Eddie moaned, his large hands reaching out to grasp your breasts over your shirt. Chills spread through your body as his fingers trailed over your hard nipples, and he moaned again. He groped at your tits for a while until he couldn’t take it anymore and pulled your shirt over your head, hands going straight back to your now-bare breasts. He leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples, his fingers still working the other.

The sensation caught you off guard and you gasped, a hand involuntarily shooting up to grab ahold of Eddie’s curls and accidentally pulling, which made him groan against your skin. Moans spilled from your mouth as he ran his tongue over your nipple, circling around it before puckering his lips around it and sucking. You arched your back into his mouth, wanting more, more of this feeling Eddie was providing that was making you feel like you had died and gone to heaven.

Eddie switched sides, wrapping his hot mouth against your other nipple as he attended to the other with his fingers, rubbing and pinching. The wetness left on your now exposed nipple made the cool air even more noticable against the sensitive bud. Your head leaned back against the wall of the van as Eddie worshiped your tits, his jeans growing uncomfortably tight. He palmed himself, desperate for some relief on his aching cock.

He pulled off your nipple with a pop and moved back to your lips, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth and licking everywhere he could reach, kissing you hungrily, filthily. You were both moaning into each other’s mouths, tongues tangled together, trading heavy breaths between you. You could feel your clit throbbing, you couldn’t remember the last time you had been so turned on.

“I’m so hard for you,” Eddie moaned against you, biting down on your bottom lip harshly. You let out a mix between a gasp and a moan, making Eddie chuckle darkly.

“Can I…feel?” you asked, feeling shy.

Eddie groaned at the question, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “God, baby, you don’t even have to ask.”

Nervous, you reached over towards the bulge in his jeans. It looked intimidating enough from here. The second your palm pressed against it Eddie let out a desperate sounding groan, pushing his hips up against your hand even harder. You could feel that he was absolutely rock hard. It surprised you how hard he was, and you briefly thought he had to be uncomfortable trapped in there. He had too many clothes on, anyway.

You tugged on his shirt, wanting it out of the way. Eddie smirked at you, picking up the hint immediately as he shrugged his leather jacket off his shoulders before pulling his t-shirt over his head. You took in his bare chest in front of you, the pale skin now exposed to you. You rubbed your fingers over his belly and chest, feeling every part of him you could reach. Eddie just let you, head leaning back against the wall as he enjoyed your touch.

“Feels good, baby,” he breathed, eyes closed. He looked so pretty like this, you thought.

You trailed your hands lower, down to the bit of hair leading beneath his jeans. Eddie’s eyes shot open to look at you when your fingertips brushed there. Your hand moved lower, rubbing over his hard on over his jeans again, earning another delicious groan from his lips.

“You seem uncomfortable in here…” you said teasingly as you rubbed him.

He looked up at you, the expression in his eyes nearly pained. “Yeah…I am,” he said, voice quiet and gruff.

“I could help you with that…” you said, giving him a squeeze that dragged an even more delicious sound from him. “If you want me to.”

“Yes, god yes, please,” Eddie begged, sounding as desperate as he felt. “Please touch me, baby.”

You hadn’t realized you would like the sound of him begging, but you absolutely do. Your hands moved to his belt, working open his buckle. Eddie watched you work, big brown eyes focused on your lithe hands undoing his belt before moving to the button and zipper of his jeans.

“Wait-“ Eddie said, causing you to halt your movements immediately and look up at him, concerned. He smiled at you sheepishly. “Can you take yours off first? Wanna enjoy the view.”

You rolled your eyes at the dopey grin on his face, but obliged. You gave him a little show as you wiggled your hips, pushing the denim down your body until you kicked it away. Eddie’s eyes never left you once.

Left in only your panties now, you moved back to Eddie, fingers hooking onto the waistband of his jeans. He lifted his hips off the ground as you pulled them down for him. He was left in nothing but his boxers, your eyes immediately drawn to the very, very large tent in them.

“You look like you need some attention,” you teased.

It took everything in Eddie to resist wrapping his own hand around his cock, pulsing and aching and neglected, but he wanted you to be the one to touch him. “Yeah, uh…could definitely use some,” Eddie said, his cheeks flushing pink. Cute.

You watched him as you leaned forward, licking against the tip of his cock over his boxers.

Eddie shuddered, a shaky groan leaving his lips. “Don’t tease me sweetheart, please,” he begged. You could see his dick twitch beneath the material.

As much fun as you were having, you decided to take mercy on him. Eddie lifted his hips again for you to pull his boxers down, his girth slapping against his abdomen. Your eyes widened at it - long, hard, and needy. Tip red and leaking, cock twitching as he looked at you looking at him.

You wrapped a hand around his base, drawing a hiss from Eddie. You started stroking him slowly, thumb running over his tip and smearing his precum along his length. Eddie groaned, resisting the urge to buck his hips up for more. “God, baby,” he moaned, head thrown back and eyes closed.

“Feel good?” you asked him, eyes darting between your hand moving along his beautiful cock, and his beautiful face, contorted in pleasure.

“Fuck yeah,” he moaned, eyes opening to look into your face. “Faster, sweetheart, please.”

You sped up your movements, jerking him faster. You reached your free hand down to grasp his balls, making Eddie whimper. “Fuck, please, your mouth, babe…”

You didn’t think you could deny anything he asked of you right now. You got yourself comfortable on your knees in front of him before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his tip. Swirling your tongue around the head, flicking over the slit and tasting him. Eddie’s hand shot up to grab your hair, his thighs trembling beneath your hands. You sunk your head down his length, determined to take as much of him as possible. You gagged about halfway down, already feeling like you were taking so much.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” Eddie said, his voice strained and fist shaking against the back of your head. “You can take all of me. Open that pretty mouth nice and wide for me.”

You moaned around him at his dirty words, and Eddie couldn’t help the way his hips bucked up into your mouth. “Shit! Sorry!” Eddie exclaimed as you came off him quickly, gagging and coughing.

“It’s okay,” you said, wiping the tears from your face once you were breathing normally again. You wrapped your lips around him again and sunk down, opening your jaw as wide as you could. Tears started falling again once you had taken almost all of him, and you nearly gave up, if not for the sinful noises Eddie was making as you took him deeper and deeper. When you finally felt your nose pressed against the brown curls at his base, you felt accomplished. You hummed around him, pleased with your work.

Eddie, however, was hanging on by a thread.

“Shit, shit!” he hissed, fist clenched in your hair and whole body shaking at the feeling of his entire cock buried down your throat. He knew you probably couldn’t breathe, so he only held you there for a few glorious seconds before he let go, resting his hand on your head instead of forcing it.

You began to bob your head up and down, taking as much of him as you could every time. Eddie moaned wantonly above you, fingers brushing through your hair affectionately as you gave him the best head of his life. “God, baby, that’s…fucking incredible, shit…”

You pop off of his cock and move down to lick at his balls, sucking them into your mouth which makes Eddie’s moans go higher. You take his length back in your mouth and suck him messily, saliva dripping down onto his thighs. Neither of you cared. It caught you by surprise when Eddie pulled on your hair, pulling you off of him entirely. You looked at him confused.

“I was about to bust down your throat, babe,” Eddie laughed, completely breathless. “And I wanna fuck that cute little pussy first.”

Eddie pushed you against the floor of the van as he crawled over you, long curls reaching down to tickle your face. You giggled, which Eddie loved, and he dipped his head, shaking it to tickle you with his hair even more.

He dipped his head lower to press kisses to your neck. He started slow, placing kisses across the skin, before he started nipping at your pulse point, biting and sucking the sensitive spot. The feeling drove you crazy, and you arched into him, turning your head to give him full access. Eddie absolutely devoured your skin, moaning as he left dark love bites to remember him by.

His hand slipped beneath the hem of your panties, fingers tracing through your glistening folds. “So wet for me…” Eddie mumbled against your ear, sending chills through your body. He held his hand up to show your wetness covering his long fingers, before sticking them in his mouth and sucking them clean with a groan. “And so sweet.”

Eddie was on his knees between your legs before you even realized what was happening, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties as he slowly began to peel them off your body and down your smooth legs.

He placed his hands on your knees and spread your legs apart, eyes drinking in your pussy spread out before him, all for him. “God…” he muttered to himself, and his cock kicked up with anticipation.

“Want you, Eddie,” you begged him, as he was taking far too long just to stare. You couldn’t really blame him, though, as your eyes lingered on his body a little too long, too.

Eddie smirked at you. “Yeah? Want my cock, sweetheart?” he teased, leaning forward to trail his lips along your jaw.

“Please,” you begged him, pushing your hips up against him, his cock sliding against your slick folds. Eddie groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he rocked his hips against you more.

“You ready for me, baby?” he asked, lifting your legs around his waist and rubbing his cockhead against your throbbing clit, lining himself up at your entrance. “‘Cause I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

“Please, please,” you begged again, writhing beneath him, so desperate to feel Eddie inside you. You felt your pussy clenching around nothing, your mind running with thoughts of what it will feel like to have all of him.

Eddie needed no further encouragement. He began to push in, groaning as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was intense but also incredible. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock. You grabbed onto his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as he stretched you more and more with every thick inch. Your brow was furrowed, eyes closed tight as he finally bottomed out, keeping himself still despite his every instinct to absolutely ruin you.

“You okay, baby?” Eddie asked, eyes intently on your face. You opened your eyes, letting out a shaky exhale. The pain was starting to fade as you got used to his girth.

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “You can move.”

He pulled his hips back, slowly drawing out of you. Despite the pain you had felt, being empty was worse. You wanted nothing more than for him to fill you again. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long.

Eddie set a steady pace, thrusting into you slowly yet powerfully. You couldn’t help but moan with every thrust, each push inside of you pressing right up against something that felt absolutely incredible. Your body trembled beneath him as Eddie leaned over you, rolling his hips into yours again and again.

“Shit, you’re so tight, baby,” Eddie muttered against your cheek as he pressed deep inside you, causing you to cry out at the intense pressure against your bundle of nerves. “Taking me so well. You’re so good for me.”

You moaned at his praise, wanting to be a good girl for him. “Faster, Eddie, please,” you whined.

With the permission he’d been waiting for, Eddie sped up his hips, fucking into you harder and faster. The van was rocking, windows fogged up, the obscene sound of your skin slapping together and loud, uninhibited moans filling the space and tuning out the music.

Eddie buried his face in your neck, loud whines coming from his pretty lips. You never imagined he could make the noises he was currently making, and it made your clit throb even harder, your pussy clenching tightly around his length.

“So good baby, perfect little cunt,” Eddie rasped out, sounding like he was utterly lost in the feeling of you. He began to babble, mind lost to the pleasure. “That’s my good girl, taking my fat cock like that. Letting me spread her wide and take what’s mine. Filthy little slut, all for me, fuck, so fucking tight and wet, pussy’s perfect.”

All you could do was hold onto his strong shoulders, desperate for some sort of lifeline as he fucked you stupid. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head as he began to move even faster, hips snapping into you brutally now as Eddie sets a relentless pace. Desperate moans spilled from your lips uncontrollably. Eddie’s free hand gripped onto your thigh tightly as he rutted into you, his other arm holding all his weight above you.

“So…so good, Eddie, feels so good, you’re so deep, s’big, can’t take it…” you find yourself rambling without a single coherent thought in your brain.

“You can take it, sweetheart, you are taking it, taking me so good,” Eddie encouraged. He bit down on your shoulder, and you cried out, squeezing around him. You felt something building deep inside you, growing rapidly with every move of Eddie’s hips.

“Eddie…’m close…” you whined, and he moaned against your neck.

“Pretty girl, my girl. I want you to come all over my cock,” Eddie begged, hips pistoning into you at a rapid pace. He let go of your thigh and moved his free hand between your bodies instead, pressing down on your swollen clit and rubbing circles against it. “Wanna feel you make a mess all over me.”

The moans leaving your lips were so whiny, desperate sounding and loud, you hardly even recognized them as coming from you. You didn’t even know you were making noises at all. Eddie shoved you right off the edge, and your release hit hard. You tightened your legs around his waist as you arched beneath him, hips bucking up to meet his movements as you moaned his name over and over again. Eddie pressed his lips onto yours hard, swallowing your moans as he licked into your mouth again, his own moans growing in intensity now.

“Fuck…shit, sweetheart, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m almost there, keep squeezing me just like that, Christ,” Eddie babbled as his thrusts turned quicker, frantic and sloppy with no rhythm as he desperately chased his release. He pumped into you roughly a couple more times before he stilled with a cry, painting your walls with his seed deep inside. He pumped his hips slowly through the last of his orgasm, making sure you got every last drop.

Your bodies were wrapped around one another as you came down from your highs, both trembling and trying to catch your breath. Once Eddie had composed himself enough he began placing kisses all over your neck, up to your cheek until he eventually reached your lips, where he placed a sweet, lingering kiss.

Eddie rolled off of you, not bothering to go farther than the floor of the van next to you. He reached for his cigarettes and pulled one out, placing it between his lips and lighting it. The smoke filled the van, and you scrunched up your nose at the smell.

“That was fucking incredible,” Eddie laughed, breaking the silence. You couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Yeah. It was.”

Eddie draws circles onto the skin of your belly with his free hand as he drags on his cigarette. “Maybe…you should be my girl.”

Your gaze shot to his face, your eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie smiled, brushing some of your sweaty hair out of your face. “You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met. I love spending time with you.” A smirk grew across his face. “Perfect pussy, too.”

You smacked him on the arm, making Eddie laugh. “You’re such a perv.”

“I just can’t help myself around you.” Eddie looked at you like you were the best thing he’d ever seen in his life. A revelation. A goddess.

You sighed, noticing the time on the van’s radio. “Shit. I probably need to get back home before dad realizes I’m gone.”

Eddie sighed heavily, too, as he finished his cigarette and stubbed it out. “Yeah. I’ll drive you back.” He didn’t want to see the night end, but he knew you were right. He began to pull his clothes back on as you did the same.

The whole ride home, you thought about Eddie. Not just the incredible night you’d shared, or that he’s your boyfriend now, but thoughts of the warrant creep back into your mind, interrupting the happier thoughts. “What’s going to happen?”

You didn’t have to explain what you were referring to. “I’ll, uh, have to do some time,” he said, like the only thing he was sorry about was that it was hurting you. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You nodded, feeling like tears were going to spill from your eyes at any moment. You had just found this amazing, beautiful thing that made you so happy, and now it was going to be taken away. Locked away.

Eddie reached over and held your hand in his. He gave it a comforting squeeze. “It won’t be long though, promise. You’ll wait for me on the outside, yeah?” he asked, teasing grin on his face.

You mustered up a smile in return. “‘Course I will. I’ll wait as long as it takes for you.”

Eddie smiled at that, bringing your hand to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of your knuckles. “I don’t deserve you.”

He stopped the van a safe distance from your house again. After a goodbye kiss that turned into an accidental makeout session, Eddie walked you back to your window.

“Such a gentleman,” you tease as you prepare to sneak back into your bedroom.

Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist. “Always.” He kissed you again, and just like every time he’s kissed you, you melt right into it. It could have turned into another makeout session if it wasn’t for your dad’s bedroom light turning on, snapping you back to reality.

“Be safe, Eddie,” you told him, kissing him one last time.

“Don’t worry about me, princess,” he said. He lifted you up to help you reach the window easier and you climbed back inside, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

You turned back to the window when you stood. Eddie gave you a wink, smirk on his face, before he turned and disappeared back into the darkness.

That night as you laid in bed you could still feel him all over you. Tingles all over your body everywhere he touched. You would never be the same, you felt.

Eddie Munson was going to be the death of you.

[kiwi-bitchez]

The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 

Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise

Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!

A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 

“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.

“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”

“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.

“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”

“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”

“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”

“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 

This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.

“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.

“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”

You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 

There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 

“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”

You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.

When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.

After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.

It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 

“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.

Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 

“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”

She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 

“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 

You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 

“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”

“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 

“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”

“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”

You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 

“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”

“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 

“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 

“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 

“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.

“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”

“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 

Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 

“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”

He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 

“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”

“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”

The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 

Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.

“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 

When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”

Still no reply.

“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 

“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 

Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”

“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”

“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 

“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”

“Huh?”

“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 

“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.

“No.”

“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.

“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”

“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 

“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 

“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“

“No,” you cut him off.

“WHA-“

“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”

“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 

“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”

“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 

“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”

“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.

This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 

After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 

After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.

As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 

Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 

“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”

It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.

“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 

“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 

On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 

“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”

He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 

You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 

“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 

“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”

“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”

“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.

Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  

“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”

“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  

“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”

“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 

“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 

“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”

“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 

“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 

You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 

“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 

He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 

Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 

“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 

“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 

“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”

The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 

“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 

“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”

“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”

Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 

Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 

“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”

“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 

“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”

“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 

“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”

“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”

“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 

“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”

“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”

“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”

“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 

The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 

“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”

“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”

“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”

“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”

He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 

“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 

“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 

“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”

‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.

You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.

“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 

He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 

He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.

As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 

“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”

The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 

Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.

Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 

He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 

As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 

“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 

He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 

You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 

The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 

You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 

Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 

But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 

You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 

“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  

After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 

“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”

“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 

“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 

You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 

He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?

On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 

He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 

Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 

You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 

“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 

“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 

The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 

“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.

“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”

He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”

To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.

“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”

Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 

After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 

Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 

You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.

Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 

As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 

“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 

“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.

“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.

“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 

“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 

Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 

“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”

Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 

“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.

Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 

You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 

“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”

“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.

“From bugs?”

“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”

“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”

You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.

“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.

“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 

“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”

You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.

After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 

It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 

The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 

Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 

Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.

What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 

“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 

You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.

“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.

“Am I what?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 

“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.

Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.

Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 

Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 

He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 

While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.

“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”

“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”

“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”

He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 

“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 

“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”

Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.

“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”

As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.

Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.

“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”

“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”

“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”

“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.

“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”

“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”

You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 

The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 

A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 

It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 

Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.

Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 

“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 

There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 

“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.

“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”

You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 

Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.

“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 

“Oh, I was just waiting for-“

“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.

Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“

“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.

Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.

“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.

He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.

“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”

“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 

“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”

“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”

A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 

“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”

You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 

“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”

“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.

“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 

He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 

“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 

As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 

“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 

“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.

You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 

“Oh my god, fuck off!”

You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.

Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 

“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 

“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.

“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 

“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”

“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.

“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”

Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 

“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 

“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 

“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."

“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”

Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.

“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 

It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 

“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 

“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”

Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 

“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 

He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.

Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.

He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 

“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.

“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.

You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.

He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 

Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”

Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 

“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 

The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.

“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”

Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”

“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”

“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 

“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”

“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”

If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 

The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.

He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 

“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”

Jackpot. 

A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 

“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 

Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 

He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 

“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”

Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 

“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”

The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 

“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.

“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”

You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 

His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 

Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 

Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 

If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.

“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”

“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”

He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 

Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 

“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 

“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”

“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”

You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 

As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 

“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 

“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”

You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 

“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 

You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.

He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.

The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 

Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.

You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 

And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.

“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 

You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.

Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 

Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 

He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 

You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.

You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 

All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 

The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.

“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 

After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 

You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.

Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 

“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.

He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 

“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 

“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”

Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 

“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 

“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 

“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”

You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 

Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 

“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”

The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.

Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 

“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 

Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 

You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 

In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 

“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 

He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 

You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 

Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 

“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 

It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 

Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 

“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 

“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 

In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 

The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 

He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.

Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 

His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 

Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 

He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 

He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 

Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 

“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.

“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.

“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 

His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 

“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”

The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 

“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 

Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 

Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 

Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.

“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”

Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 

“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 

A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 

As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 

He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 

When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 

“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 

“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 

“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 

He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 

“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.

“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 

“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.

He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 

“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 

“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 

You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.

“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 

“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 

“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 

As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 

You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 

Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.

“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 

“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 

He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 

“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 

And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.

His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 

When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 

“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”

With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 

The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 

Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 

He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.

Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 

“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 

“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”

Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 

“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 

“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”

His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 

The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 

When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 

His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.

Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 

You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 

You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 

You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 

Apparently not,

Days pass, and no call. 

It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 

After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 

Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 

“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 

“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”

“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”

“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 

You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 

“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 

“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”

Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 

“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”

“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”

He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“

You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”

“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.

At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 

“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”

“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”

You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”

“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”

“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”

“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”

“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”

Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 

Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 

“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 

You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 

“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”

You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 

Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 

Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.

At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.

And there he is.

In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.

"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.

"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."

You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.

"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."

He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.

"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."

You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.

"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."

He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.

"And I owe you a few dates, for real."

As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.

"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.

"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.

You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: 2/3

-> Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.

Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.

The Brain Injury Recovery Center.

It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.

So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.

Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…

There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.

“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.

Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.

Can’t let Eddie see him like this…

He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.

For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.

It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.

Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.

As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.

Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.

He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.

Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.

Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…

His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.

But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.

And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.

It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.

Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.

Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…

The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.

It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.

Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.

He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.

Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.

Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.

To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.

Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.

“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.

He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.

“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.

“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.

“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”

The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”

Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”

She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”

“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”

“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”

He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.

“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.

“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.

She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.

He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…

It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.

Hopper steps out.

Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.

When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.

His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.

Then it clicks.

Oh. Steve’s the emergency.

He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.

“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.

Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.

Munson. Eddie.

The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?

Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.

“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?

“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.

When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”

Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”

Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.

“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.

“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”

“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.

The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.

“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.

Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.

But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.

“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”

Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.

Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“

Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.

She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”

Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”

She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.

“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.

“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”

But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.

“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.

Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”

“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”

But she doesn’t, not really.

Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—

No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.

Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.

When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.

🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! 🙏 This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.

Tag List: (message me to add or remove yourself.)

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[catherinnn]

This kinda inspired by one of your enemies to lovers stories where eddie says “you wouldn’t be able to handle me” but reader instead says “oh yeah i couldn’t handle the two-centimeter-pussy-defeater bc id because i would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch.”

Sorry i have been holding that one in for quite some time 😤

Beg for it

enemies to lovers - one bed trope - eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT +18, piv, oral ( f & m), choking, degradation, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), porn with plot, fluffy at the end.

a/n: thank you for requesting babe, hope you love it!

5.7k words

“Game night at my place, the whole group will be there” Steve announces after greeting you. You went to visit him and Robin since you were already near the place. Also, maybe you could find a movie to watch tonight.

“Ugh, really? They all said yes already?” you ask.

“If you’re expecting me to say that Munson hasn’t, then I have bad news” he confirms.

“Fuck”

“You’re not even trying to be friends at this point” he complains.

“It’s impossible with him being so mean all the time” you tried to defend yourself but Robin was quick to refute your statement.

“You sure are mean to him as well, don’t act so innocent”

“Well, he started it! I didn’t even know him and he started with the jokes and asshole comments” you weren’t lying.

You were new in town, and new at the summer job your dad had found for you. He wanted you to already have some experience at working so you could make a better curriculum later. There was were you met Nancy and instantly became good friends. So much so that she had introduced you to her friend group she has had for years already. Steve, Nance, Jonathan, Robin and Eddie. The former four had been sweethearts to you since you first met them, easily becoming good friends as well. The problem was with the latter. The night Nancy had introduced you to everyone, he started being a little distant and cold towards you. You tried not to feel offended since he could just be shy or introverted, but then he started throwing snide comments and sarcastic mocking your way. You were not going to sit there and take that, so you equally threw cutting remarks at him.

That’s how the current war with him started. And that’s why your friends keep insisting with this forced proximity, so we could all be a happy family.

But it was useless, you and Eddie do agree on that.

The game night arrived that Friday. You were at the Harrington household with several board games awaiting on the table. Battleship, Clue, Guess Who, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it.

“We wanted to make different groups and play all of these, then see which team is the best” Robin explains. “Steve and me will be team one” she says as she writes that in the whiteboard. They really went all out, since we could all be pretty competitive.

“Group two!” Jonathan exclaims quickly grabbing Nancy’s hand.

“Wait… no, definitely not” You start complaining after realizing that would mean you’re stuck with Eddie.

 “No way! I’m not teaming up with her, she’ll make us lose at everything” he complains as well.

“I will? I think the actual loser here it’s you”

“Oh, am I now-?” The metal-head starts responding when Steve steps in, cutting him off.

“Okay! Stop yelling, we’re not even playing yet! The teams have been chosen, try and be faster next time”

“We’ll start with Guess Who” Robin announces.

As the game progressed, the bickering continued.

"Does your person have brown hair?" Eddie asks Nancy and Jonathan, who nod.

You reach over to flip down the characters with blond or red hair "See, this is why we should’ve picked someone with a hat, it's less obvious"

Eddie rolled his eyes "Oh, please. Like your guess was any better. We’re losing here!” Eddie complains.

"Only if you keep making terrible guesses" you shoot back.

"Does your person have a hat?" you ask the other team.

"No"

"Still think the hat was a good idea?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at you.

"It was strategic" you huff, flipping down the characters with hats.

After playing most of the board games you had, you were tied with the second group, Steve and Robin had already lost.

“Last but not least, to decide the winner of this evening, I present… battleship” Robin announces once more.

"You sure you can keep up with this game? It requires more than just a pretty face" Eddie asks you.

"Don’t worry, I have enough brains to make up for your lack of them" you respond.

“Quit it, start playing” Steve orders.

"Let's just get this over with" you roll your eyes.

They set up the Battleship boards, each team carefully arranging their ships. Eddie and you hunched over the board, whispering fiercely.

"Put the battleship here" he insist, pointing to the top left corner.

"No, it’s too obvious. Let’s hide it in the middle"

"Fine, but when they hit it right away don’t blame me" he groans.

As the game progressed, your bickering intensified.

"B6" Jonathan called out.

You glance at the board and softly nod your head "Hit"

Eddie leans closer, his voice a teasing whisper, "I told you the corner was better"

"Just focus"

When it was your turn, Eddie called out "G4"

Nancy checks their board, "Miss"

You smirk "Looks like your guess wasn’t so great either"

Eddie rolls his eyes "Just wait"

A few rounds later, it was your turn again.

"E5" Eddie calls out.

"Miss" Nancy announces.

"I told you they wouldn’t put it there" you huff.

"Like you’ve done any better"

"How about C3?" you roll your eyes.

"Fine, C3" Eddie sighs.

"Hit" Jonathan says between his teeth.

"See? I told you" you smirk.

"Don’t get cocky, princess"

The tension built as the game neared its end, each team with only one ship left.

"Last shot, let's go with G3" Eddie says

You nod.

"You sunk our battleship" Jonathan confirms after a long sigh.

“YES!”

“COME ONN” both you and Eddie shout in excitement and before even thinking about it you hug tightly.

Robin and Steve watch the scene with wide eyes and smirks on their faces.

And the second your bodies touch each other you realize what you’re actually doing. The hug only lasts few seconds before you both back away awkwardly.

“See? You actually do make a pretty good team” Robin comments.

“Only because I took the last shot” Eddie says.

“Oh please, if it were up to you we’d still be guessing corners” you reply.

"And if it were up to you, we'd be stuck in the middle forever”

Your friends roll their eyes as the bickering continued. And as you act indifferent, you try not think about how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, or how soft his hair had felt touching your skin.

His frizzy and chaotic hair. But so curly and soft.

--

Couple of weeks after that night had passed, you hung out with the guys almost every weekend. You favorite nights were the ones Eddie was busy and couldn’t make it. Like tonight.

“Pass the salt, please” Nancy asks Robin. You all went out to have dinner together. Not all actually, Jonathan was too busy as well, him you did miss.

“It’s like we’re having a girl’s night!” you say excitedly and both girls laugh as well.

“No, you’re not about to count me in as a girl” He complains.

“Oh please, you have better hair than me!” Robin comments and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m just teasing, jeez! Someone has their panties in a twist!” you joke.

“Are you on your period or something?” Nancy joins in sarcastically.

“Alright, not even funny” Steve interrupts. “Let's focus. I think we should keep planning the trip, even though we’re not all here tonight”

“Don’t even mention it. I miss Jonathan so much, he’s been so busy lately. I think he really needs a break” Nancy complains and Robin agrees with her.

“I know, it’s really noticeable when Eddie’s not here either”

“Oh yeah, he’s the one I miss. His irritating voice and loud comments. His annoying essence it’s what’s missing here!” you joke but they don’t find it funny.

“We’ve been through this, you’re gonna have to learn to like each other”

“Sure sure, so… the trip?” you change the topic acting foolish.

“Yeah, I liked the hiking option. We always go to the lake every summer, we should change it up” Nancy votes. You’ve never went to any lake with them since this is the first year you’re joining them. But they had told some stories about this hidden lake they usually go to in summer.

“I think so too, plus we should do something different since we have a new integrant” Steve comments smiling at you. Robin and you also agree to go with that option.

The guys make sure of telling the rest everything you have agreed on that night. You’ve settled on where to go hiking and the cabin that would be waiting for you at night.

A few weeks later you're all set to go.

The trip to get there was...

Steve and Jonathan took turns driving. "You must be a really shitty driver if no one here trusts you behind the wheel" you notice and tell Eddie.

"I'm not a bad driver, princess. Maybe we could go for a drive sometime and you could judge for yourself! We'll call it a date" Eddie teases you the way he knows will shut you up, it always worked. As soon as he started flirting with you, it was like you got shy all of the sudden. Replying with some nonsense that would make Eddie laugh harder because he knew he had won.

"I'd rather get eaten by a shark" you respond ignoring the nervousness that ran through your body.

"Alright, we still have a few hours ahead of us, and I'm not gonna make them with you two bickering the whole way there. So calm down" Steve —or actually, mom Steve— told you off.

Once you got to the cabin, you parked the car, settled everything down, ate something and got ready for today's hiking exercise.

Eddie was never a big fan of sports, so he knew that after an hour or so of hiking —no matter how slow they were walking or how much water he was drinking— he would just start to stay a little behind. Not a lot, but definitely the last on the row.

Also, he started to get bored. Eddie was chatting with Jonathan, but he started to take pictures of every little plant or flower he saw, and the higher you got, the more pictures of the view he wanted to take.

So Eddie started to walk in silence, taking notice of other little things, like the fact that you and Steve look pretty close and pretty giggly with each other since you started hiking. But not only that, obviously, it's not like he's jealous or anything. For him to be jealous he would have to like you in the first place, and there was no way Eddie wants you.

You're the obvious person to like; everyone in Hawkins is already smitten with you. Every guy has a crush on you because you're undeniably beautiful. He knew from the first moment he saw you that you'd never go for a guy like him. So, to keep himself from showing any sign that he wanted you, he did the opposite —he started to hate you.

So he is definitely not jealous. He was only noticing that like he noticed the colourful rocks that he walked by, or the clouds in the sky, or the way those shorts hug your body so nicely.

But he keeps hearing your laughter every ten seconds. Was Steve really being that funny, or you were acting all giggly for him? Did you like Steve? It certainly seems like you do.

You, however, were having so much fun. In the middle of a funny story Steve was telling you about some guy who tried to flirt with Robin at work and the look on her face not knowing how to tell him she didn’t like him —or well, any men for that matter.

The forest path was rugged, but you welcomed the challenge at first, feeling the cool morning air on your skin. However, after a while, your legs began to protest, your breath came in shorter gasps. It was hard to keep up with Steve. Swimmer and football player Steve. So you had to slow down a little, now walking alongside Eddie.

“What’s the matter, princess? Can’t keep up?” he teases with a mocking tone.

“You literally got behind sooner than me” you answer, shaking your head. “If anyone’s slow here, it’s you”

“But it looks like we're both walking together now, so who's really winning?” Eddie chuckles, unfazed by your sharp reply as his eyes twinkle with amusement.

You decide to ignore him. How foolish of you to think that he would accept that silence.

“So what’s the deal between you and Steve? You looked pretty cozy back there. You’re not very subtle, you know”

“There’s no deal with Steve, we were just talking” you roll your eyes, irritation flaring up.

"Right, just talking" he says, his tone dripping with scepticism. "You’re so obvious, it's almost painful to watch"

“Why don’t you stop jumping to conclusions and mind your own business” 

“Ohh, is the princess mad at me now? I’m so scared!” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re impossible” you say almost to yourself.

You kept walking for a few more hours, taking occasional breaks to catch your breath and sip some water. The trail seemed endless, but the beauty of the forest made it worth the effort.

As you trudged along, you noticed the sky darkening. Grey clouds, rolling in with alarming speed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves more aggressively.

A man in uniform hurrying down the trail called you out. "Hey, you guys need to find shelter! A big storm is coming in fast. There's no way you'll make it back down in time"

Panic start to appear in all of your eyes.

“Wait? Seriously?” Nancy asks.

“Yes! There’s a motel that’s a few minutes away, to your left” the guy informs you. “I don’t know how much room they have left, cause I’ve been sending some people there already. But you should go now”

Finally after quickening your pace, you spot the outline of a motel nestled among the trees. You hurry towards it. As you approach, you see the motel was old but resistant.

You reach the door and push it open, stumbling inside just as the storm unleashed its full fury. Inside, it was dim and musty, but at least it was dry.

“Hello, uh, we need room for six, please” Nancy is the first one to get to the register and talk to the old woman who was reading a newspaper as if she hadn’t heard you coming in.

“$70 the night” she answers without even looking up at you.

“Uhh… okay, we’ll take it” Nancy says and as you all reach for you wallets, the woman gives you three keys.

“There’s only three rooms left, two with queen beds and one with two separate single beds” she speaks again, as slowly as she can apparently.

“SEPARATE BED” Robin shouts fast.

“ME TOO” Steve is quickly to join her on calling dibs for that room. Not wanting to share a bed.

“Wait! No!” you complain. “Why would you get it just cause you screamed?”

“We called dibs, sorry sweetie” Robin explains.

“But that’s not fair, we should have discussed it!” Eddie joins in.

“Too late” Steve says handing the money to the woman and taking the key of their room.

“Come on guys, maybe they have a couch” Jonathan tries to make you feel better as he also pays and picks a key to their room.

“Are you actually making us share a bed?!” you ask them offended.

“Maybe it’ll help you become friends!” Robin tells you.

After paying and grabbing that stupid key, you all go to your rooms. As you walk in you notice that, in fact, there is no couch.

“Fuck” Eddie complains once again. “I’ll take the floor, let’s just find some blankets that I can sleep on”

And you turn that room upside down trying to find some. But the only blanket in the room is the –only– one on the bed.

“There’s nothing here!” you sit on the bed admitting defeat. “We’re both gonna have to sleep on the bed. I’m gonna freeze without a blanket and you can’t sleep on the bare floor, you’d freeze too”

“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could’ve just said so” Eddie jokes.

“Not now, Munson! Really not in the mood!”

After each getting ready for bed, you start building a wall of pillows in the middle. Separating his part of the bed from yours.

“I bet you wouldn’t make Steve have a wall of pillows” he mumbles, but you’re able to hear him nonetheless.

“Did you not listen when I said not now?!”

“See, that’s the problem with you. You think you can just walk in here acting like you own the fucking place. Newsflash, princess, not everyone is going to fall at your feet following your little orders!” Eddie gets mad for real this time, but so are you.

“I’m so sorry for trying to make this less uncomfortable! Actually, if you want I’ll even cuddle you while we sleep!”

“Shut up” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“No really, we should even make out before sleeping while we’re at it! Maybe that’ll prove to you that I don’t fucking like Steve”

“Yeah, you wish” Eddie comments.

“Actually, I think you wish. Giving that you’re always trying to flirt with me when we argue and giving how jealous you seem to be about Steve” you notice.

“I’m not fucking jealous. And you’re the one suggesting to fucking make out!”

“See, I think you do want to. You’re just too much of a pussy to even admit it” you whisper close to his face.

“Oh my God, princess!” Eddie starts laughing arrogantly. “You wouldn’t even be able to handle me”

“Oh yeah, you’re right! I could not handle your two centimetres because I would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch” you respond at his face.

But he doesn’t say anything back. He just looks at you. His jaw clenching, eyes darkening, breath heaving.

Before you can react, he closes the distance in one swift, aggressive movement. Gripping your arms tightly, he kissed you fiercely and angrily, his lips bruising against yours, as if trying to channel all the pent-up emotions into that kiss.

To say that you're shocked would be an understatement. But you did kiss him back. How could you not? With all the ardor and sentiment that he was putting into that kiss?

That fucking kiss.

After he felt your lips moving along with his in a dance, he let all the anger go. The kiss became passionate and intense instead of angry. Like you were finally letting go. Stopped overthinking and finally giving in.

You didn't need to talk. You didn't want to. Instead, you put one hand on his haw and the other on his hair, feeling it in between your fingers, bringing him even closer.

He sighs, holding a grunt as he feels you play with his hair. His hands move lower to your hips, feeling the upper part of your body in the process.

A fight for dominance is held up between you two. He bites your lip harshly, and you let out a little gasp that allows him to win. He's playing dirty. You're not surprised.

He starts to push you down slowly, so you're lying on the bed with him on top of you.

Your hands travel lower as well as you feel his back. You wonder if he has any tattoos there as well.

He dares to leave your lips alone as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and then your neck. He kisses and bites and licks all over your neck. You can bet that he is leaving marks as purple as a grape.

It turns you both on even more.

Eddie feels like he's flying. He's even touching the clouds. Marking you all up is only an image that haunts him in his fantasies. Like when he can't sleep, or is in the shower, or after fighting with you all evening and you're looking so beautiful and you're being such a brat. That's when he imagines leaving you all bruised out. But he's actually doing it right now, and he's going feral.

You start to feel like you're too dressed. His hands go under your shirt, and he starts to pull it up. You pull your arms up as well so he can take it off. His kisses keep traveling lower on your body. Your chest, your shoulders, the top of your breasts. He stops there. Making out with one of your nipples over the lace of your bra while pinching the other. You start moaning, your hips move searching friction on your core, and he lowers his hips so you can start dry humping him.

You feel his smirk against your sensitive skin as well as his hard on against your centre. Mocking your desperation. You're not surprised.

He moves up, meeting face to face once again. "So desperate for me, aren't you princess?" he whispers so closely to you face you can feel his lips moving and his evil smile too.

He watches you breath hard and your legs trying to close searching for that friction in between once more.

"Ask me nicely and I'll take care of you" he proposes and you roll your eyes.

You can't. You won't.

"Beg for it, princess" he tries again. "Let me hear you"

You shake your head. You're playing difficult, but Eddie likes a challenge.

"No? You're not gonna beg for me? Alright princess, you know what I'm gonna do?" he pauses to think. "I'm gonna make you cum so fast on my tongue you'll be embarrassed, and then you'll know how much of a desperate slut you can be for me"

You want to laugh and tell him off, but you are so intrigued by his confidence at the same time. You settle for a defiant look thrown at him, he catches it and smirks again. Something tells you you'll be seeing that smirk quite a lot tonight.

He unhooks your bra and throws it somewhere in the room, he squeezes your tits and caresses your nipples making a mental note to keep playing with them later. His hands travel down to your pants which are the next item being thrown away inside the room.

He takes a second to admire the view of you only on those white panties and he feels his cock jump. He proceeds to take your underwear off too, but this item is put inside his back pocket.

He puts your legs over his shoulders and lowers to be closer to your pussy. He bites his lip admiring how fucking pretty and perfect it looks. He wastes no more time and dives in.

He licks it and kisses it and sucks on it drunk on your taste. He fucking makes out with your clit and has you meowing and arching back like a damn cat.

His hands grab your thighs so hard he's probably leaving marks there too. He sighs and hums and laughs against your pussy hearing your pretty moans.

He looks up at you as you look down at him and you both feel like you could just cum at the sight alone. Your cheeks blushed, eyes watery, hair a mess, lips swollen and little moans are still coming out of them. He looks up at you while still sucking on your clit so fucking good. His eyes are covered by his bangs so you reach to move them to the side. His puppy eyes look straight at you, his hair is also a mess, and his hands are gripping you with so much force his skin as well as yours becomes whiter. And his rings feel cold and addictive against you.

You try to fight your orgasm but looking at him makes it impossible. It hits all throughout your body so good that you cry out his name as you pull on his hair.

As you catch your breath, he sits up and washes all your wetness off his face with the back of his hand, all that with a big smirk on so proud of himself.

"Still doubting me?"

You grunt, annoyed, and bring him closer. You pull his shirt over his head and take a second to admire his bare chest and arms covered in tattoos. You unbutton and unzip his pants. He's just watching you act so desperate for him to undress, enjoying every second of it like the cocky motherfucker he can be.

"Need help?" he whispers on your ear, and you nod with a pout. He stands up and takes his pants of slowly.

"These too?" he asks, signalling his boxers. You nod as you feel even hotter paying attention to the big tent he has on them.

He puts them down too, standing up proudly as you look at his big cock. "Half inch you said?" he teases you, and you look up at him as if telling him to shut the fuck up.

You sit up facing his dick. You grab it gently as you keep looking at it. How is it so... pretty? How the fuck does Eddie manages to be pretty everywhere. Even what you thought could not be pretty. He manages to make it look beautiful.

A mischievous thought crosses your mind. And you start leaving some kisses on the tip. Even a lick here and there.

He gasps unexpectedly. You put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Eddie moans louder this time, and hands stop your movements.

"As much as I enjoy this, princess, and I really fucking am" he lets you know. "I want to cum once I'm inside of your perfect little pussy, can I?"

You take him out of your mouth with a 'pop' at the end and look at him defiantly once again. "Beg for it" you challenge him feeling proud of yourself.

He laughs. "Are you seriously telling me to beg for it while you're still practically on your knees for me?"

You won't let him win this one, so you lay back again resting on your elbows. "Beg for it"

He takes a big breath in ogling over all of your body on display for him and only him. He'll let you win this one because his dick is throbbing at the sight before him.

His hands travel up your legs and your hips to your waist. "Please, princess" he says once his face is closer to yours.

"Please, let me fuck you so good" he starts humping his dick against your pussy which makes you both gasp.

"Please, please, please" he kisses your cheek to sugar-coat you.

"Eddieee" you move your pelvis up and down against him. "Do it, put it in"

And he wastes no time to do so. Pushing his tip inside and you both gasp. He bites his lip and thrusts to enter you completely.

"Oh, fuck" your head is thrown back and you lay back down. He feels so big and so fucking good in you.

"Mhh, fuck princess" he lowers his body to be chest to chest with you. "You feel so good baby, so tight around me"

You have to bite your tongue to stop you from moaning his name, you can't keep inflating his ego.

"Don't get all quiet now. You're always talking and the one time I wanna hear you..." he teases you.

"Earn it" you manage to get out. It's ironic how your lips are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting on them to stop you from moaning as hard as you want to, but you still tell him to fuck you better.

Eddie knows what you're doing, but he likes playing with you too. So he accepts the challenge.

He gets up on his knees against the bed and takes your legs to pull you closer to him. You instantly wrap them around his hips. He wraps a hand around your throat and he looks like he's about to say something, but instead, he enters you again. A moan escapes from your mouth instantly, and you see his big smirk back.

He starts a hard and fast pace with his thrusts as you hear his sighs against your ear. You can't help the whines and moans that escape you now. Your hands go to his back scratching him, and pulling at his hair, but it only makes him moan harder.

He lowers his head to your breasts once again and keeps kissing them as he fucks you. You arch back again, because you can feel him everywhere. And he feels so so good.

He feels you clench around his dick and he thinks he could just cum right now. So he starts playing with your clit with his fingers.

"Eddiee... 'm so closee" you whine pulling him somehow even closer.

"Yeah? You are?" you nod desperately. "Beg for it" he whispers and smirks right after saying it.

You roll your eyes but it doesn't take much to convince you this time.

"Please, Eddie," he was about to tell you that you can do better, but beat him to it. "Please baby, you feel so good inside of me, so big. Eddie, please"

Eddie has to stop himself from cuming -which he almost does. "Cum for me, baby"

And you do. Your orgasm hits even harder than the first one. You gasp and whine without even thinking about it.

Few seconds after that, Eddie can't take it anymore. He feels you clench even harder while you cum and it becomes too much. So he lets go too while moaning your name against your skin.

You take a few seconds to catch your breaths when you feel Eddie pull out —and after admiring how his cum drips out of your pussy— he gets up, puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom, only to come back with a wet towel to clean you up. To say he surprised you again was an understatement. Who would have thought he would be so careful?

After you go to the bathroom as well —with wobbly legs Eddie smirks about— and change into some comfy clothes, you both lay down. No wall pillow this time. And are quick to fall asleep after all the exercise you did today.

The next morning wasn’t so sweet. Loud knocking on your bedroom’s door accompanied a loud Robin telling you to get up already.  

Waking up all curled up with him was bound to happen. But if someone would have told you yesterday morning that today you would be waking up with Eddie Munson spooning you, you would have laughed at their face.

But here you are, and to be honest, it had been a while since you slept so peacefully.

You feel him groaning against the skin of your shoulder, holding you tighter.

You slowly opened your eyes to accustom to the light.

“Did you end up killing each other last night?! Answer me!” Robin shouts again from the other side of the door.

“Certainly feels like it” Eddie murmurs and laughs at his own joke.

“We’re awake! Calm down!” you let her know.

“We have to leave so then we can breakfast, so hurry up!” she lets you know.

You get up and start tiding up. Eddie is slower, he sits on the bed barely opening one eye to look at you and smiles. “Good morning, princess”

You look at him and a little smirk escapes from your lips. “Hey” you greet him shyly.

You both start changing to get down and tidy everything down. After you both brush your teeth, you go to pick up your backpack but he stops you to pull you in close to him.

“Good morning” he says again with his face close to yours while he pulls a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then he proceeds to kiss you, sweetly this time. Which warms your heart. You kiss him back playing with his hair once again.

“Hi, Munson” you say sweetly against his lips.

“You look beautiful in the morning” he admits but before you can even react, the knocking on your door is back.

“Okay! Okay! We’re coming!” Eddie stops them. “Jesus”

After getting down, you were waiting for them to explain where you would be having breakfast but as soon as they see you they start looking at you funny.

“What?” Eddie asks being as confused as you but they all start laughing.

“What is going on?” you ask again.

“Are we just gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Jonathan asks now.

“Yeah, were you gonna act like you still hate each other today?” Steve teases.

And you understand all the laughter. You and Eddie look at each other surprised and apparently this is also very funny because they start laughing again.

“Oh fuuuck” Jonathan starts mocking the way Eddie sounded last night also acting like moaning your name.

“Oh Eddie, so close!” Steve joins him acting like you.

Your face is as red as a tomato right now and you feel like you could just die, it would be better than taking whatever this is. You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder after he just rolls his eyes fighting another smirk.

He laughs at you, put stills hugs you.

“You wanted us to like each other…” He defends you two.

“Yeah, apparently you took that very literal” Robin teases after catching her breath.

[jo-harrington]

Luminous Beings - Episode 2: Not the Smuggler You're Looking For

Art by @monologichno || Beta Read by @undead-supernova Part of the @eddiemunsonbigbang

Summary: Eddie accepts the new venture presented to him and the new business partners get to know each other over drinks.

Word Count: 6.4k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Thalia Trieste)

Warnings/Themes: Star Wars AU, Action, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Miscommunication, Distrust, Mention of Alcohol and Substance Use, Minor Canon Inaccuracies/Adaptation, Galactic Politics, Mention of Death, Vague Reference to Order 66 and the Jedi Purge

Note: Thanks to everyone who's reading Luminous Beings so far. I'm so glad you're enjoying. This chapter we're about to dive a little bit more into the politics in the Galaxy Far Far Away. Not in-depth and detailed, but reactions from Eddie's POV.

Once again, you don’t need to know much about Star Wars to read. But if you are not familiar with Star Wars please take this as an additional warning: Star Wars has always been political. The themes have always mirrored real world events and this fic is no different. I don't go into great detail about what is happening because the focus is the characters reactions to it. They aren't really sure what's happening either. And the things that Eddie and the other characters feel in this fantastical world...they mirror what a lot of us feel here in the real world.

Writing this as we keep going headfirst into feelings of overwhelmedness and lack of control and uncertainty in our world …it was honestly very therapeutic to be able to put the feeling to words with a character I love when I oftentimes am unable to verbalize them myself. So thank you for being witness to this and I hope it helps you find some kind of sense of understanding, if only for a moment, too.

Luminous Beings Masterlist - Jo-Harrington's Masterlist

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

Nar Shaddaa - 10BBY

The energy at the table was familiar, yet strange.

Familiar in the sense that it definitely felt like something they'd encounter back home on Bracca: sitting in a cantina, chatting, and listening to the DJ spin tunes that were popular in this part of the Outer Rim.

And instead of the ever-present sense of danger that surrounded the visitors and interactions on the Smuggler's Moon, there was a comfort and sense of camaraderie that Mott and Merg Assob brought that made Eddie and his friends feel more at ease entering into a clandestine agreement with Thalia.

It was strange, though, because they were quirky enough that they didn't seem like the type of people to be in the smuggling business.

Merg had been the leather-clad stranger at the Surly Sarlaac the previous night, choosing an otherwise unassuming facade to keep herself safe on-planet. Without her helmet, she was a round-cheeked, lavender-skinned Theelin bombshell with an infectious laugh and, apparently, a singing voice that would insult even the tone-deaf.

"Well, there goes our tradition of drunkenly singing shanties with our associates before we head to the spaceport," Jeff announced with an awkward laugh.

It didn't take long for his friends to realize that he'd developed some kind of attraction for Merg, which was dashed when Mott was introduced as her husband.

Mott was as human as they came, almost painfully so. He looked like the type who'd try to sell you a used speeder, with thinning hair and a highly-stylized mustache, crinkling-eyes and a crooked smile. But he was friendly. More than friendly. He was almost neighborly. He'd greeted the crew of the Dragonborn like you would an old friend, and then offered to buy the first round, especially since they'd all be doing business together.

Then he got right to work regaling everyone with the stories of their most recent travels.

Of course, not without starting off with a cordial greeting. How a friend of Thalia’s was a friend of theirs, and how she'd been one of the most reliable contacts they'd had in the business.

And reliability was comforting to hear.

Especially when the blue-haired flight attendant hadn't bothered to join them yet.

"...And then the bartender asked if I was ready for the creamiest in all the galaxy," Mott held the attention of the table in rapt suspense. "To which I replied, 'That's exactly what I'm looking for.’"

Merg mouthed the words alongside her husband with a playful roll of her eyes.

"Famous last words," they concluded in tandem, earning chuckles from Dayv and G'areth.

Eddie laughed along with slightly less enthusiasm. He kept glancing towards the entrance of the cantina to manifest Thalia's appearance.

Jeff noticed, of course, and leaned in closer.

He whispered into Eddie's ear, "Do you think she's gonna bail?"

"No," Eddie shook his head, but kept his attention towards the front of the cantina. "She's the one who set this all up, I don't think she's gonna disappear on us. Not if she wants her payout."

He felt like an idiot to be left waiting like this, but that was entirely on his shoulders. He had accepted the job and agreed to this meeting without much in the way of being able to contact their new associate. Now he was left wondering where she was, with no way of reaching her, and he knew he'd look stupid in front of his friends—his crew—if he asked the Assobs if they'd heard anything from her.

Eddie had purposely omitted some of the details about his interaction with Thalia and the means by which they'd obtained this new job. He might’ve been a little embarrassed that the attraction he felt towards her was some kind of ruse, sure. But something about their meeting unsettled him after they'd parted ways, and he couldn't quite pin down what exactly it was.

She'd begged him for help and he accepted.

He wasn't entirely sure why he'd done that. He was a nice guy, sure, but he wasn't running a charitable cause. He tried to tell himself that she was paying for their services. In fact, she said she'd pay anything, which was suspicious in and of itself.

But credits were credits…and she begged him...so he accepted.

That was enough explanation for the guys in his opinion. He knew they wouldn't go into the job blind. If they sensed anything awry, they would tell him immediately and he would call the whole deal off.

Jeff, of course, was more in tune to the fact that Eddie was behaving strangely, than anything to do with their new acquaintances.

"Do you think this is some kind of trick?" he questioned Eddie further in concern. "I know these guys trust her but what if this is a chance for the Empire to bust us after that one job on Brentall IV?"

And that was the real conundrum, the real source of Eddie's uneasiness. He was pretty intuitive, but despite his sense of nervousness and uneasiness...he didn't sense any sort of danger around Thalia. The only deceit that she had shown herself capable of was getting him to trust her, maybe even like her, for a split second before she revealed she was only interested in what he could do for her.

And not who he was.

So could this be a trap? Sure. 

But was it?

"It's not," Eddie answered definitively. "She'll be here."

He picked up his drink and knocked the whole thing back, before he signaled to the roaming service droid that he wanted another.

"How do you know?" Jeff pressed.

"She'll be here," Eddie repeated with a grunt.

"Who'll be here?" A whispered voice came from beside him.

Eddie turned, startled, to find Thalia sliding into the seat he'd left empty for her.

She was dressed less conspicuously than she had been at the Surly Sarlacc; while her blue curls remained intact, she'd traded her Star Tours uniform for clothes that blended in with the locals—a fitted shirt and jacket, and utility trousers tucked into comfortable boots. There was an obvious lack of a blaster anywhere on her person, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one. He realized, then, that her tactic to get his attention the night before had worked; he doubted that he'd have honed in on her amidst the crowd if she dressed like she was now.

He grit his teeth as he debated waving down the service droid again, desperate for another drink.

Thalia seemed to read his mind, though, and offered to get the next round as she greeted everyone. Of course that put her in the good grace's of Eddie's friends immediately, and they all clapped at the offer.

"Uh," Thalia observed of the various states of intoxication at the table. "Maybe some snacks, too. Sober everyone up before we head to the spaceport."

"That's a good idea," Merg snickered and pinched at Mott's arm. "This one's been getting everyone drunk on Moof Juice."

"It's so they'll be more captivated by my stories," Mott argued amicably. "Speaking of Moof, we have to tell these boys about that time on Batuu..."

"Why don't," Eddie interjected with a suggestion of his own, "you tell us about how the three of you met? Since you seem to be such good friends."

He felt the fire within him quell as Thalia turned her eyes back to him, as that calm feeling settled over him once again.

He was starting to hate that feeling.

"Business associates," Thalia corrected him coolly. Then, almost as an afterthought she added, "more often than not."

"And when you're not?"

"Then we're drinking buddies."

"It might seem like a big galaxy," Merg interjected. "But it's a lot smaller than you think. Gotta keep the few good people you know close."

"Yeah, well, the only good people we know happen to be sitting at this table," G'areth chuckled and clapped a hand on Mott's shoulder. "You folks count, of course."

"Well, thanks," Mott grinned and returned the gesture, practically pulling G'areth closer to him. "But trusting your crew is a big deal. It's why it's only ever been me and the Mrs. Can't seem to find anyone else who wouldn't sell us out to the Imps."

Four sets of eyes turned on Thalia suspiciously.

"I'm not a part of their crew," she defended herself with a sarcastic smile. "And you can ask your Captain, I'm no fan of the Empire."

The service droid approached the table with fresh drinks and took orders for the next round, which dissolved the tension that had momentarily overtaken them. As it rolled away, the crew of the Dragonborn were treated to a delightful story about a sabaac game gone wrong, a run-in with the Hutts, and a slicer who could get clearance codes to an Imperial freighter.

"Allegedly," Mott, Merg, and Thalia all said as they got to the end of their story.

It was a hard story to follow, so outrageous it had to have been a lie, but having heard one of Mott Assob's drawn out anecdotes prior to it, the boys figured it was true. Or, at least, some of it had to be.

"And what about you boys?" Merg asked then. "Thali said you're from...what was it...Corellia?"

"Bracca," Eddie and Thalia corrected her in tandem. Eddie shot her an annoyed glance.

"Even worse," Merg snorted. "The guilds will screw you over more than any of the Bosses will; I’d start smuggling to avoid them too. So, let's hear it. How'd you get off that scrap-heap?"

The boys all hesitated, eyes darting to one another as they tried to figure out which one of them would start.

If they should start.

Of course, as the Captain, Eddie took the lead.

"It's not as glamorous as your story," he began with the slightest tinge of self-pity in his voice. "But these guys have been my best friends for years. We met back at school…"

He drifted off into the fond memories of him and his friends back home.

Bracca - 19BBY

"Long night, Mister Moonsun?"

Eddie's head snapped up and he shifted in his seat as his classmates snickered around him; he then turned his attention to his instructor, Cal Larke, who stood beside his station and stared at him with gentle concern.

"No, sir," Eddie cleared his throat and shook his head, then looked down to the datapad before him. It showed an extensive engineering diagram that almost made his eyes cross with its complexity.

"Bored?"

"No, sir, sorry."

How could he tell his instructor that he'd been kept up with nightmares and hadn't gotten much sleep? That he felt little bits of anxiety, pains in his heart all night and he was too afraid to close his eyes again.

Instead, he just apologized again and said, "I won't let it happen again."

Larke placed a gentle hand on Eddie's shoulder and then went back to his podium to continue his lesson.

Eddie turned his head towards the next station, where Jeff was seated, and shot him a questioning glare as if to ask "how come you didn't wake me up?" 

Jeff just shrugged apologetically and looked back down to his own datapad.

Poodoo Head.

Everyone knew that Eddric Moonsun wasn't the best student at the Training Institute—he wasn't even in the top 50%—but he was curious, good at tinkering, and a quick learner. So this was where he ended up, whether he liked it—or was good at it—or not. The Guilds could always use more manpower, according to his uncle. According to everyone.

Not like there were many other career options on Bracca, unless he wanted to sling bantha hash someplace at the Terrace.

He'd live and work and work and live, until he was an old man and death came for him. It would be a simple life.

A simple life was a good life.

At least, that's what Uncle Wane always said.

Your family, your health, a job that paid well, and a good cup of caf to wake you up in the morning; those were the keys to happiness.

Except...Eddie wasn't sure that was really what he wanted.

He trudged through the rest of the lesson and whooped when class let out for the day.

One of the only good things about Bracca was that it was basically one big playground; that was the way he and his friends looked at the otherwise lackluster planet that they called home. Bracca was dotted with the hulking, rotting skeletons of cruisers and starships dating back as far as anyone could remember.

If Corellia was the shipyard of the Galaxy, Bracca was the junkyard.

And instead of building the next great starship—or warship, as deep as the Republic currently was in the Clone Wars—the engineers on Bracca thought of ways to break down the remnants of star travel past and reuse their parts for something new. Inventions that could benefit lesser-developed or wartorn planets in the Republic.

Everything that was left behind? The husks? The engineers made good use of them too.

Of course, they weren't meant for dumb kids to climb and play in but it happened anyway.

In the outskirts of town, past the Terrace but before the vast shipbreaking yards, Eddie and his idiot friends created a makeshift clubhouse in the remains of a Rendilli corvette. It was an old scrap heap—a relic—that wasn't even worth the time to break down, so of course they thought it was perfect. It was where they wasted time between class and home. They fussed with fantastical make-believe stories and crafted little figurines out of scraps to go along with their games; tales of heroes and villains and myths that they'd only ever dreamed of.

They’d have speeder races through Coruscant, vibrosword fights with bounty hunters on Mandalore, and explored the suncaves of Sedri for treasure.

They'd even found, in a stack of discarded parts, a dusty, old, bin-shaped T7-series astromech droid. It was a relic too, and of course it didn't work, but Jeff and G'areth had started rebuilding it, bit by bit.

Maybe they’d get it to work one day. The droid. And the ship. And they’d all be able to leave Bracca behind and live out their fantasies.

Until then, the most exciting thing they did was listen to the Holonet News.

"Don't know why you kids wanna listen to any of that stuff," his uncle would always grumble while Eddie caught the morning broadcast before they left for the day. "Just propaganda for the Republic. We're in a war no one wanted. They've got to make it seem like we're winning."

But there was another reason why Eddie liked to watch the broadcasts. It's why everyone wanted to.

The Jedi.

The protectors of the galaxy, now tirelessly working to stop the Trade Federation from…

What were they trying to do exactly? Eddie couldn't be too sure; he had been a bit too young to care about the details when the conflict began. It was practically history now, and he was barely passing his galactic history module.

But stories of the heroes of the Republic were endless and exciting; they always had been, even before the war. The mysterious Jedi Masters and their travels and adventures throughout the galaxy. Peace and justice, the ways of the Force.

Aside from the impact of the Clone Wars, nobody on Bracca seemed to care except for Eddie and his friends. Nobody they knew, at least.

It was just another bit of escapism from the mundane future that waited for them and that they—or possibly just Eddie—refused to accept.

"This just in," Eddie shouted, mimicking the HoloNet News anchor's voice, as he and his friends ran towards their clubhouse. "General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker foiled yet another assassination attempt on the Chancellor's life earlier today above Coruscant."

"The Chancellor thanks his heroic saviors by awarding them with fame and riches beyond belief!" Dayv added excitedly.

"But the Jedi, known for their vows of selflessness, rejected the rewards," G'areth continued. "We were able to get a statement from General Kenobi himself."

Eddie, who'd spent hours practicing his fancy Coruscanti accent just for the fun of make-believe, adjusted his posture to match the Jedi Master.

"It is our duty and privilege to save the Chancellor and ensure democracy thrives."

"He wouldn't say that!" Jeff scoffed and slapped a hand against his shoulder.

"Yes he would! I swear!"

Once their bickering was over, they logged in for the afternoon broadcast of the Holonet news on a datapad and all went about their little hobbies.

Ga'reth and Jeff took out their tools to work on the droid. Eddie fiddled Wane’s old guitar and daydreamed something new for once—starting a band with his friends one day; talk about a dream. And Dayv tapped away on his own datapad, some research for their pretend.

Finally, the much-awaited broadcast began.

"This is Alfwanne Pinngran," the lead anchor greeted.

"I'm Kafra Krint,” came the voice of his co-star. “And this is Holonet News."

The boys all hummed along with the catchy intro jingle.

They expected to hear the repetitive stories that had fed into their imagination for weeks—news of the heroes of the war—but the mood immediately turned somber as Kafra began with breaking news.

"An attack on the Jedi Temple on Coruscant!" All four boys froze. "Smoke has been seen coming from the Temple, but with no official statement given by the Jedi Order, we can only assume the worst."

"And you know what they say about assuming things, Kafra," Alf cut in, his mistimed joke taking on more of a somber tone.

"CSF has told us that the situation is under control and the residents in the surrounding areas should proceed with normal activities. Skylanes around the temple have been diverted and there has been increased security on the ground as Clone Battalions have been seen en masse. Holonet News will report more once we have additional information."

The boys sat in suspense, hoping for more, but the broadcast moved back onto other reports as usual. General galactic news, reports about the Clone Wars, and a one-in-a-lifetime weather event in the atmosphere of Umgul.

They were all shocked.

Eddie was stunned into silence.

They waited and listened, but soon the broadcast was over.

They raced home after that. Escaping from their mundane lives suddenly didn’t seem so important. They couldn't waste another minute on their fantasies and make believe, not as a big part of their world came to a screeching halt.

And it did, indeed, come to a screeching halt. 

Especially for Eddie.

He complained of a stomach ache to Wane for days, and Wane—knowing not to question or force his nephew to do something he truly didn't want to do—let him stay home from the Training Institute.

"But only ‘til the end of the week." He pointed at Eddie sternly. "You're getting older now, son. Sixteen. You've gotta have some responsibility. You've gotta finish your classes and make something of yourself. Moping around at home isn't gonna get you there."

"I know, Wane," Eddie sighed.

Wane, ever a man of few words, turned on his heel and was about to depart. But he stopped at the door and looked back.

"Someone at school bothering you?" he asked.

Eddie stiffened for a moment under his uncle’s scrutiny.

He knew he couldn't tell Wane about his worries; Wane kept his head down, and didn't care about the Republic or the Jedi. He didn't care for the war either but what could they do? They couldn’t just up and leave the galaxy; the most they could do was get off-planet. He wouldn't understand why Eddie was so affected by the news he'd heard.

So he just said, "No."

"You get into an argument with your friends?"

"No, everything's fine."

"Well...how about we go down to the Terrace for breakfast on Benduday? You tell me what's bothering you."

Eddie sighed and reluctantly agreed, but felt the guilt churn in his stomach until Wane finally left their flat for his shift.

He immediately hopped out of bed to grab his datapad from his schoolbag; he signed into Holonet News and scrolled articles for anything from Coruscant that would give more details about the attack on the Jedi temple.

And it was silly. He knew that it was silly.

Eddie—well, the whole kriffing Moonsun family—wasn't big on beliefs. Sure, there was the Force, but he didn't see or feel any Force. Most of the galaxy didn't, at least as far as he knew.

But it was nice to believe there was more, wasn't there?

Not just the mystical, but the tangible, too. Dreams and goals and plans.

Wane had been right, he had to think about his future, but to have a future that was a carbonite copy of Wane's life? That's not what he desired.

Wasn't there more out there than that? A whole galaxy to explore and search for happiness. 

Eddie's father thought so, that's why he hadn't been back on Bracca for more than a few days at a time since his mother died. But Aldred Moonsun had lost his way thanks to grief. He couldn't care for his son, only for himself. There was nothing ambitious about his abandonment of the status quo.

So, for Eddie, the Holonet truly represented...more.

The stories about other planets, the stories about the Jedi, about heroes and princesses and even the types of foods that could be found if he could only get off Bracca.

Bracca was the only home he'd ever known all his life; how could he tell his uncle that what he really wanted was to be anywhere but here?

How could he tell his uncle that after he'd learned about the Jedi, he'd wished that they might come and take him away to be a hero and save the galaxy one day, just like they were?

A notification at the corner of the screen pulled Eddie back to reality and he pressed it to see the live broadcast of the Galactic Senate.

It started slow, with introductions of delegates from around the galaxy.

He enjoyed seeing their garb; costumery that celebrated the cultures of the planets they represented. It was so different from the purposeful clothing that his uncle wore as an engineer, or his uniform for the Training Institute—even though he'd added his own little bits of flair where he could to feel different. To feel more like himself, whoever he really was.

A scroll of text at the bottom of the screen indicated that this was an emergency convening of the senate, called by the Chancellor himself. There were statements from various senators about their quick trips to Coruscant from afar, and all had statements and well-wishes about the attack on the Jedi Temple, as true politicians would.

Eventually, Chancellor Palpatine took his place at the center of the Galactic Senate and began his speech amidst the applause at his appearance.

Immediately, Eddie could tell that something was wrong. A feeling deep in his gut. The Chancellor's words...they just didn't make sense.

The war was over, the Separatists had lost.

But with the Republic's victory, a new challenge emerged.

Jedi. Betrayal. Rebellion. Assassination.

An uprising against the Galactic Republic on over a thousand worlds, and the Clone Battalions protecting the sanctity and order by slaughtering the traitorous Jedi.

"The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated!" Palpatine declared to the roaring crowd, most of whom seemed to agree thanks to their cheers.

Eddie was horrified as Holonet News began flashing what could only be described as wanted posters across the top of the broadcast. Hundreds of faces of Jedi Knights and Masters.

Yoda. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Quinlan Vos.

And apprentices.

Padawan Jin-Lo Rayce. Padawan Ferus Olin, Padawan Steev Toninghar.

Kids who looked just about as old as he did. Some even younger.

They were going to hunt these younglings down? They were going to kill children?

The list went on and on.

And Eddie continued to watch the address in horror and confusion. In grief.

Everything he knew, the stories he knew and loved...had it all been a lie? The Jedi were heroes; they'd just saved Palpatine. They'd never try to kill him.But why shouldn’t he trust what the Holonet News said? Why shouldn’t he trust the Chancellor when he’d just led the Republic to victory? When he’d just ended the Clone Wars?

Palpatine said one last remark to thunderous applause before his Grand Vizier took over the address—

"In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe and secure society."

—and with that Eddie's world began to be torn apart by something so much bigger, so immensely grander than a boy from Bracca could ever fathom.

Nar Shaddaa - 10BBY

"...old Ed here got a job with his uncle down at the shipbreaking yard, and he strong-armed us into starting a band to play down at the Terrace until we were done with school."

Eddie was pulled back into the conversation as Jeff patted him on the back; he straightened in his seat and turned his eyes down towards his drink, a little ashamed that he'd lost himself in the memory of the day everything changed.

Despite this, his friends had done an excellent job of telling the tales. Of Bracca, of their schooling, of their dream of something better. The others sat raptly as the story concluded.

Well, Mott and Merg did.

Thalia was stiff beside him, fingers tapping against the sides of her glass as she seemingly absorbed the story, but looked to be lost in her thoughts. Just like Eddie had been.

It only took a few brief moments of his eyes on her for her to break from her trance; she turned her head to him, and with sad eyes, she gave him a smile.

Once again, he was left confused. He didn't know what to make of that smile. Didn't know what to make of her. Didn't know what to make of this whole kriffing situation that he seemed to have gotten himself into by accepting this job.

He was unsettled by his own recollections; he hadn't really thought of home in years. They'd left and hadn't ever looked back. His uncle had visited them once—just once—at their first flat on Coruscant. It had been a long and tedious journey that Eddie hadn't made him take again. But other than that, it was a holocomm on birthdays and a transfer of credits to hopefully help Wane retire someday.

Credits like the ones he could send once they were done with this job. Credits like the ones Thalia promised. Promised him, Eddie Moonsun of Bracca, the planet he left behind and had barely mentioned to anyone outside of his crew. His friends.

How had she known that fact? And why were they telling her more? What were they doing? Sitting around telling stories, telling secrets, instead of doing the job that would be paid to do?

"Work got pretty lean by the time the rest of us graduated," Dayv continued with a distasteful grunt. "The Engineering Guild turned into the Scrapper Guild. The Empire decided they didn't want recycled ships after the war was over."

"So we all worked on fixing up the old corvette."

"And that's the ship we still use today."

"The Dragonborn," G'areth said with a dramatic flair, hands waving enticingly.

Eddie's friends started to talk about their trip to Coruscant and their first job, but he decided enough was enough. Everyone went silent as he stood from his seat and adjusted his jacket; they all stared at him expectantly.

What were they expecting? What did he expect? He should just call it off once and for all...but for some reason, he couldn't.

He didn’t want to do this. But he knew he had to. 

"And the rest," he concluded with an air of finality, "is history. Now, are we gonna sit around here all day? Or are we going to get your cargo off of this blasted planet?"

Eddie leaned against the hull of his ship as he observed the droids that zipped around Deucalon Spaceport.

He was used to a lot of chaos and commotion in the hangars. There were ships guided in and out, and passengers and cargo being loaded and unloaded. Someone a few bays down was arguing with a customs droid and angry Huttese echoed off the durasteel walls; Eddie wasn't much of a betting man but if things didn't cool off soon, he might almost expect blaster fire.

However, the most important thing that he needed to keep his attention on was the cargo being loaded off the Assob's shiny Rendili freighter.

It was an unassuming container, a rectangular cuboid twice as tall as he was, if he could guess. He figured it was the size of his childhood bedroom, which was to say that it didn't look very big at all. It didn't look very suspicious either, or like it contained something that desperately needed to get off-planet.

But that was the whole point of smuggling, wasn't it? To avoid suspicion or detection?

As the singular container was repulsorlifted away from the Assob's ship, Eddie expected more to be unloaded. A second container, maybe a third. But the loading ramp soon shut with a satisfying hiss.

That was it? Must have been one hell of a container.

Thalia walked alongside Dayv, Merg, and the traffic controller that was overseeing the transfer. She stopped beside Eddie as the others loaded the container into the Dragonborn's cargo bay.

"G'areth made a new friend," she told him in an amused tone. "Mott has a whole team of pit droids and G'ar helped one with a stuck clamp. I've never seen a droid with a crush before, but there's a first time for everything."

"You made all this fuss over one measly container," Eddie scoffed and ignored her story. "What's in it?"

Thalia's smile dropped and her eyes hardened.

"Need to know." Her response was curt and sharp, and Eddie could practically feel the phantom jab of a finger against his sternum, even though her hands were clenched around the straps of her bag.

"Well, I'm letting it on my ship," he snarked back at her. "So I need to know."

And he was sure that she would fold. It wasn't an outrageous thing for the captain of the ship you hired to smuggle something onto the capital of the Empire to know just what it was he was about to smuggle. With a container that small, it couldn't be anything outrageous either. Spice, weapons, credits, artifacts...that's really all it could be. Maybe a few speeder bikes? It wasn't even large enough to fit a decently-sized speeder.

Kriff, he'd even settle for knowing who hired Thalia! She'd called herself a freelancer, right? She helped someone get something somewhere. He knew where it was going, he would either like to know the who or the what.

The longer he stared at her and waited for an answer, he should have realized that he wasn't going to get it.

For the second time in the past 24 hours, she looked nervous; her otherwise cool and confident facade faltered. She worried her bottom lip for a moment and her eyes darted to the loading ramp where the container was being lifted in.

Then she looked back at Eddie.

"I'll pay extra," she said. "If you stop asking about what's inside."

Eddie felt a hot annoyance ignite in his chest.

"See," he pushed himself off the hull and took a step closer, "these are all terms that we should have discussed before I agreed to this job. All the little extras you seem to want, how much that'll affect my crew's cut of the payoff, who we're working for—"

"You're working for me," Thalia cut him off to respond.

"Then who are you working for?" Eddie asked sharply, and then sucked a breath in through his teeth. "Oh, sorry, is that 'need to know' too?"

Thalia's mouth snapped shut with a click of her teeth and she exhaled sharply out of her nose.

"As a matter of fact, it is," she replied after a beat.

"And you're gonna pay me not to ask about that either, right?"

"Sure am."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Alright," Merg clapped her hands, ignorant of the glaring contest Eddie and Thalia were engaged in. "She's all loaded up. All of the forms are in order. That is to say...the forms don't exist."

There was another beat of silence, and an unexpected twitch in the corner of Eddie's eye, then Thalia broke eye contact and turned to the Theelin.

"Thanks for everything," she said gratefully. "You guys know it means the world to me when you help me out in a pinch."

"Thanks for having extra credits when you're in a pinch," Merg winked. She looked over at Eddie. "You take care of our girl, huh Moonsun? I know we're pals now, but I don't want to have to put a bounty on your head."

Merg turned on her heel and walked back to her ship with the wave of a hand as a farewell.

Eddie folded his arms across his chest and took another step closer to Thalia.

"What did she mean, 'take care of our girl?'" he asked, almost afraid of the answer

"It means exactly what you think it means," Thalia snorted. "Don't let anything happen to me. Or the cargo. But, mostly me; Merg is very protective."

"And why would good ol' Merg think I have anything to do with protecting you?" Eddie narrowed his eyes at her, but she simply smiled innocently.

Condescendingly.

"Listen, lady," Eddie started. "I don't know who you think you are, but you were not a part of this deal. None of this was a part of this deal. My crew and I are smuggling cargo for you. Suddenly we're not supposed to know what it is or who wants it? Fine. But this is where I draw the line. So get your cute little uniform back on and get on a Star Tours flight straight to Coruscant if you want to meet us there. You are not setting foot on my ship. And don't you dare say you'll pay extra. There aren't enough credits in the galaxy."

"You didn't just agree to this job Eddie," Thalia spat at him. "You agreed to help me, and helping me means that that container doesn't get within a parsec of me. So I'm coming aboard your ship, whether you like it or not."

"You can't just keep adding new terms to the job because you feel like it," Eddie argued.

He was about to call his friends and tell them to off-load the container when Thalia grabbed his arm to stop him again.

But he shook her off.

He was done with her manipulative tactics, her little mind tricks. The touching and the pleading and the you're-my-only-hope. His crew might fold at the prospect of credits and a round of drinks and a pretty face, but he wouldn't. Not this time. He was the captain, this was his business, this was how he made sure he and his friends had a future...especially when the future of the galaxy seemed so grim.

"I don't know who you think I am," he snarled at Thalia. "But I'm not some rookie who's gonna let himself get walked on. And if that's the kind of service you want your highness, then I'm not the kind of smuggler you're looking for."

"You're the only smuggler I trust," she insisted.

"Trust? You don't even know me, how can you trust me? How did you even hear about me?"

"Word of mouth? Holonet? Does it really matter?" She shook her head. "But we're here now. The cargo is already loaded. Everything is set. So what's gonna get me on that ship with that container and en route to Coruscant?"

What could he say to get her to give up? A million credits? Two? But that desperation…he almost felt bad—almost—that he was gonna take a Star Tours flight attendant for all the credits she was worth. However, he knew that she wasn't just some innocent little flight attendant. She was a con artist, a criminal. Just like he was.

"I want 80% of the cut," he demanded. 

There was some hesitation at first—and to be honest, Eddie thought that was such a ridiculous number that she’d simply tell him no—but eventually Thalia nodded.

"Done.”

His eyebrows jumped in surprise and he continued.

"And I'm there when you meet this mysterious benefactor you're so intent on keeping secret. That way I know I'm not getting screwed over."

"Sure. Fine. Next."

What else? What else?

"I call the shots from here on out," he continued. "No more secret and sudden demands I don't know about. I'm the captain for a reason."

He couldn't control the smirk that formed on his lips as he watched her jaw clench at that.

"What about—" she started but he cut her off.

"Ah, ah. There's no 'what abouts.' I'm the captain. You said you trust me. Then trust me. And I'll trust you."

"Then I need a failsafe," she insisted. "Some kind of clause in case you muck up the whole job. Like if the Empire does find that container."

"They won't."

"But if they do."

There was an edge to her voice, a nervousness, that put him on edge.

"They won't," Eddie repeated. "But if they do. If something happens and nothing goes horribly wrong, like the ship blowing up or something like that, then our cut goes down to 50%. Not just zero. If you're so afraid of the Empire, then that means my crew and I are taking a big risk here; 50% that's my failsafe."

Thalia looked like she wanted to say something else.

In fact, he could practically hear some of her grumbled words in his head; it wasn't a stretch to imagine, he'd heard it all before.

Instead, she sighed and held out her hand.

"Deal," she said reluctantly.

Eddie grinned, slapped his hand into hers, and shook. Then, once her grip loosened, he pulled her into the crook of his arm and gestured to the loading ramp.

"Then Miss Trieste, welcome aboard the Dragonborn."

Next Chapter: Episode 3: I've Got a Bad Feeling About This (Coming 2/18 at 7PM CST)

The Tag List for Luminous Beings is currently open; please comment/ask/DM to be added.

[mrsbarnesblog]

for you

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly do not punishes your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: established relationships, protective boyfriend Matty, fights, insults and creepy guys, language, mentions of blood, hints of sex at the end.

Author's note: idk, the summary kinda sucks, but I couldn't think of anything better. basically it's just me being McGonnagal's fan and a simp for Mattheo 😘

Mattheo was sitting with his friends on one of the benches outside the castle. He was partly listening to whatever Blaise was saying about the next Quidditch game, more thinking about you and about the fact that he almost didn’t see you during the day. 

He was completely lost in his thoughts until he heard your name slip out of the new guy’s, Eddie's, mouth. He and another Ravenclaw student were sitting not far away, and Mattheo’s attention was immediately drawn to their conversation.

“Yeah, that girl Y/N, right? I tried to talk to her during the lecture but she acted like a total bitch.” The guy laughed, elbowing his housemate as if he said something funny. Mattheo’s fist tightened, and he tried to hear more to figure out whether they were talking about you or not. 

“Wait, dude.” The other guy chuckled, almost in shock. “You mean that Y/N? Riddle’s girl? You tried to hit on her? Nah, you better drop that shit. It’s like serious between them and all, no one usually bothers her because Riddle goes crazy about it.”

“Don’t care, man. I’ll find a way to get to her. I know she’s gonna be a total freak in bed, I will find a way to fuck her.“

Mattheo just snapped, jumping out of his place in a matter of seconds. Before one of his friends or even Eddie realized what was going on, Mattheo had already dragged him to the floor, punching his face. 

“Wanna repeat what the fuck you just said about her?” He hissed at the guy, making another hit into the jaw. 

“I said that she looked fuckable.” 

It turned into a total mess, with them fighting on the ground and other students staring like it was some kind of show. The crowd got bigger, but Mattheo did not care about it at all; he was too busy with the way his knuckles met that ugly face. 

Only a few minutes later, Blaise, Theo, and Draco dragged Mattheo away, while a few Ravenclaw students restrained Eddie. 

Mattheo was almost uncontrollable, puffing and trying to escape from the firm hands that were holding him in place. 

You heard that your boyfriend got into another fight, but as Luna said, it was something bigger and that he was even more violent today. 

You brushed through the crowd, immediately standing before Mattheo’s eyes to catch his attention. You placed both of your hands on his chest and quickly nodded to his friends to let him go. As soon as he became free, he tried to push forward, almost radiating anger. The fact that Eddie was proudly smiling behind your back did not help the situation. 

“No. Mattheo, stop it. What’s going on?” You felt the way he was breathing, as if he had run a few miles, and it was mostly anger. His face had a few drops of blood; the brow and lip were cut, and you knew that you would have to clean them up later, but now you only wanted him to calm down and speak to you properly. 

“Hey, baby. Remember me?” The voice behind your back made you turn your head around, only now seeing the guy your boyfriend was fighting with. It was a new student from another school who was annoying you during your class and almost got you two in detention. You wanted to slap him so badly for the way he was talking to you, but you knew that the best way to deal with such people was to ignore them. They were always thriving on any type of attention. He looked much worse than Mattheo. Already blossoming bruises under his eye, on the jaw, and blood running out of his nose, and when he gave you that nasty smile, you saw his red teeth too. "C'mon, that’s why you were ignoring me, huh? Voldemort’s son? You could find someone better to fuck.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You felt how Mattheo moved forward again, but you slightly pushed him back. You lifted one of them to his cheek, caressing it in slow circles. 

“No, you’re not. He's not worth it, Matty. Hey, look at me, please.” You put a slight pressure on his face to distract him and make him set his eyes on you. You had seen him during the fights before, but this time it was different. The way Mattheo’s eyes were completely dark, slightly narrowed, and full of rage, his face expression was so cold and nothing like you got used to. For a moment, you understood why sometimes even his friends preferred not to step in. 

Eddie pissed you off during the previous lesson, where he decided to sit with you, chat, and flirt. You tried to pay as little attention to him as possible, completely uninterested in the jerk with no manners and a big ego. He got to school just a few days ago but you already hated him with your whole heart. 

Though you couldn’t let your boyfriend start the fight again. Eddie was clearly provoking him with that weirdly satisfied grin on his face and rude words, probably so later he could say that the Dark Lord’s son was trying to kill him. 

Mattheo's eyes were ruining between your face and Eddie behind your back, as if he were trying to make a decision. Your fingers didn’t stop moving in slow motion on his jaw and you thought that you felt some tension leaving his body. 

“I hate the way he was talking about you.” He said it roughly, trying to control his body and emotions. Yes, Mattheo’s eyes were full of anger, but there was something deeper. He was hurt. 

“I know, Matty, I know.” You stepped a bit closer to distract your overprotective boyfriend. At that moment, you almost forgot that you were in front of everyone and all the students are going to gossip about your interaction for the next week. “He’s provoking you. He wants to make you the bad guy. Don’t let him do that, please. We should just leave, okay?” You almost whispered, not breaking eye contact.

“Yeah, Matty, listen to your little girlfriend if you don’t want to—”

“Mr. Carmichael!” The loud, stern voice of Professor McGonnagal interrupted whatever he wanted to say and everyone went quiet for a few seconds. “You are not allowed to speak in this tone inside our school. Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Riddle and Ms. Y/L/N, follow me to my office, and everyone else must go back to their classes.”

“But Professor, Y/N didn't do anything wrong!” Mattheo protested, on instinct, placing his hand on your back and stepping closer. 

“I said all three of you should go to my office, Mr. Riddle. Now.” Without another word, she left. Mattheo cursed near you, blaming himself for getting you into trouble, but you gave him a reassuring smile and, interlacing your hands, led him to McGonnagal’s office. 

As soon as you walked in, Mattheo stood, separating you and Eddie so he wouldn’t be able to talk or even look at you. 

“Are any of you willing to tell me what exactly happened there?” McConnagal sat in her chair, observing all of you. You stayed in front of her in silence.

“I punched him because he was saying inappropriate things about Y/N, Professor.” Mattheo briefly looked at you and you slightly squeezed his hand in yours in return. You saw how McGonnagal looked at your hands but you did not pull away, willing to show your boyfriend that you weren’t mad or blaming him. 

“Is that so?” She looked at you. 

“I wasn’t there when the fight started, but Eddie was bothering me earlier during the lessons. He made a few comments about me, even though I asked him to leave me alone, so I assume that it might’ve been the reason for Mattheo to do it.” 

“Liar.” 

“Mr. Carmichael, you are not in the position to talk back right now. That is quite impressive that you were able to get into the fight without even being here for weak. You are getting a detention, plus you’ll help Professor Snape after tomorrow's lesson. He’ll be happy to deal with you, I’m sure. Also, 20 points from Ravenclaw.” McGonnagal ignored his dramatic groan, now looking at Mattheo. Judging by the tension in his body, he was ready for the worst. “What about you, Mr. Riddle…” She briefly looked at you, and you didn’t really understand what it meant. “This time, I’m only giving you a warning: in Hogwarts, we do not support any kind of violence. You may be free.” 

“That’s unfair! I’m covered in blood because of him. Are you really not going to punish the Dark Lord’s son? He could’ve killed me!” 

“One more word and I’m taking away more points. You both are free, but you, Ms. Y/L/N, please stay for a few minutes.” 

“But she— Professor, please don’t do this.” Mattheo stepped closer to her desk and you thought that he sounded as if he had suddenly panicked. It was strange. 

“Hey, Mattheo, don’t worry about me. I promise, it’s okay.” You pulled him back, curiously looking at his weird behaviour. “Just wait for me outside, please. It won’t be long.” He stared at you for a moment, but then kissed you on the cheek and went out of the room. 

“It’s truly magical to see the kind of love you two share, my dear.” McGonnagal softly laughed and you felt the heat on your cheeks. “Come sit here, please.” McGonnagal pointed to the chair in front of her desk. 

“What did you want to talk about, professor?” 

“Well, I know that this is not my place to interfere, but I wanted to say that you and Mr. Riddle share something really rare and special. And while I do not support his physical way of dealing with problems, I know that he deeply cares about you, darling, and this is how he expresses it.” It was weird to hear such words from someone else. You always respected Professor McGonnagal and the fact that she said that made your heart fill with even more love. 

“Was it the reason why you didn’t punish him for the fight?” She nodded. 

“Mattheo is a really smart boy with a kind heart and a good chance to have a really successful and wonderful life. The only thing that may ruin it is his family; I'm sure you understand that.” McGonnagal looked at you with a soft smile on her lips. “I see the way you affect him. How he became less distant during the lessons, started smiling more, and that you two are always connected no matter what. Everyone noticed it, even us professors. You may be the only bright thing in his life, my dear; that’s why I want you to ask to be there and not let him slip into the darkness. I just know that such love is so pure and strong and I hope it’ll live as long as the world exists.”

“Um– thank you, professor. I don’t even have enough words to express myself, but I appreciate your support. I’ll do everything in my power to save it.” You suddenly felt extremely emotional after this talk, and the only thing that you wanted to do right now was to be in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“Now go. He's probably losing his mind because of you being there for so long. 

Mattheo did wait for you near McGonnagal’s office and when you walked out of there with slightly glossy eyes and a soft smile, his facial expression changed into something sad and cold, which you did not quite understand. As usual, after his fights, you went into his dorm, but the walk there was weirdly quiet. 

When you walked into his dorm and then to the bathroom, where you usually cleaned his wounds, he just followed you, hopping onto the counter near the sink and waiting while you prepared the first aid kit.

“Are you okay?” You stepped in between his legs, holding his face with your left hand and the wet towel in the other. You wiped the dried blood and then applied salve. “You’re acting kind of weird.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he were considering his words. “Are you going to break up with me? If so, then just say it right away and don’t torture me. I fucking hate it.” His eyes were locked on your necklace with the letter R, while your hand froze in the air in shock. 

“Wh– Matty, what are you talking about?!” He finally looked up, meeting with your eyes, and you understood that he was trying to be casual and careless about it, but in fact he looked hurt.

“Isn’t it why McGonnagal asked you to stay? To say that I’m bad for you or something.”

“This is why you didn’t want to leave me there? I saw the way you looked at me… Oh, baby, no, I’m not going to break up with you.” You gently cupped his cheeks; now the tension had partly left Mattheo’s body and he finally put his hands on your waist. “In fact, McGonnagal told me quite the opposite.” Your fingers gently rubbed a bruise on his jaw while he looked at you in disbelief. 

“What do you mean?” Mattheo slightly frowned. His hands unconsciously tightened around you, causing you to step even closer to him. 

"Well, she said that you are really smart and that you have a lot of opportunities in the future if you’ll make the right decisions. She told me that you need someone like me to be here for you… and that what we have is really pure and magical.” You almost whispered the last part. The silence in the bathroom became almost too heavy, and the way Mattheo was looking made your stomach tighten with a weird feeling. 

“I thought she hated me.” 

You shook your head. “There’s no reason for her to hate you, Matty. You are not your family. You can live your life how you want to, without any burden or darkness, and I’ll be here for you. Always.” Mattheo’s hand reached for your face, slowly touching your skin. He looked almost mesmerized by you—those pretty brown eyes soft with so much love and feelings for you. 

“Merlin, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He drew you closer, your foreheads touching in an intimate gesture. “I love you so fucking much. You’re my everything, Y/N. I know that it might be hard dealing with me, but I’m trying. For you. And I’m sorry for today. I just cannot let anyone disrespect or hurt you, my love.” 

“That’s okay. I’m not mad. Just don’t want you to get hurt too. I love you, Matty. No matter what.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and finally properly kissed him. It was slow and delicate and it felt as if that moment was so significant for your relationship. You were always sure of your’s and Mattheo’s love, but right now it has become serious on another lever. And both of you could not be more happy. 

Mattheo kissed you passionately, pulling you in close and sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth, burying your hands into the messy curls and scratching the scalp. “I hate to say it, but you actually look kind of hot when you’re fighting…”

“Fuck, baby. Let’s stay here for the rest of the day and skip the classes. I want you so fucking bad.” He groaned, lowering his mouth to your neck.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mattheo Riddle?” You pushed him away, slightly pulling his hair to enjoy those glossy dark eyes and swollen lips. 

“What if I say yes?” Mattheo’s hand slipped under your skirt, teasingly stroking your thigh. 

“Then I'll let you do it.” 

[tommygotwrittenoff]

also love the idea of eddie bringing buck along to help out at some pta event and all the single parents are like 👀👀 and hit on him and eddies just losing his mind watching it happen

[ghostlyfleur]

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬.

steve harrington x shy!reader

summary: the girl steve loves finally makes a move.

contents: reader referred to as ‘sweets’. tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining. normal font after the cut.

steve knows.

he knows that asking sweets to attend the town’s fair with him, and also the subsequent firework show, sounded a lot like asking her out on a date. in his defense, the rest of the party would be attending alongside robin, eddie, nancy, and jonathan. she had also said yes, so there’s that.

he picked her up at her cozy little cabin in his car; opened the door for her, complimented her outfit, even went as far as insisting he’d pay for the tickets. luckily, or maybe not, it seemed his angel remained oblivious to the inner turmoil that steve was facing; his longing to call this a date and the accompanying fear of her saying no.

somewhere deep down steve knew she would have said yes.

his angel looked oh so excited and happy to be amongst the laughing children, the fried oreos, the blinking neon lights, and the carnival-typical game stands that steve figured “screw it!”, and decided to pull all the stops for her.

the first stop was trying to win the girl a stuffed animal. simple, right? as it happens, steve ended up failing miserably at the target shooting stand, which then caused his girl to step up and win the game with suspicious ease.

“this is for you,” she said, smiling shyly as she handed steve the small, soft stuffed turtle she had just won.

despite his obvious blush, steve was now determined more than ever to make her smile like that for the rest of the night, however he just didn’t anticipate how dedicated the girl seemed to be on making him smile all night too.

while dustin and eddie fought for the last stick of pink cotton candy, robin tried to convince jonathan that all of the game stands were rigged, with nancy backing her up.

max stood on the side with lucas, eyes rolling exasperatedly while el listened to something will was saying instead of joining the others in trying to decide whether to go on the rollercoaster or somewhere else.

when three pairs of eyes — dustin, eddie and robin’s — turned to the two lovebirds for their opinion to settle an argument, steve and his girl saw this as the perfect moment to break from the group and run in the opposite direction, holding hands and laughing and ignoring their friends shouts behind them, to enjoy each other’s company.

steve is so happy to be spending some fun, quality time with his girl, doing all the things couples would normally do on a date, and that includes going to the nearest photobooth.

after counting down the coins in his pocket to pay for the pictures, he climbs into the booth and quickly realizes how small the little bench inside is. steve is feeling brave, maybe even a bit cheeky, so he pulls sweets by her waist to sit on his lap with the excuse of limited space on the bench. thankfully she seems more than happy, albeit shy as usual, to do so.

when the pictures are done they both step out of the booth with blushed cheeks, soft smiles, ragged breaths, and pounding hearts that are indicative of the mind blowing sequence of events that occurred inside the way-too-small, slightly dirty booth that now seems like both steve and sweets’ personal heaven.

with hands shaking, sweets takes the line of pictures from the slot on the side of the booth and starts biting her lower lip, her brain trying to catch up to what had just happened inside and how happy it made her. she feels steve’s all consuming presence appear close behind her, looking over her shoulder, hands softly placed on her hips, as the pair of them stare at the perfectly captured moment that they are sure to remember and cherish forever.

the series of pictures went as follows:

coming up blank with pose ideas, the two just looked at each other and laughed, but at the sound of steve’s carefree and loud laughter she just stares at him like he’s a dream come true-- and the first photo is taken. sweets looking at steve like he hung the moon and the stars while he’s mid-laugh, eyes squeezed close in mirth and head leaning towards her.

steve felt her staring and soon stopped laughing, a soft smile on his lips as he gazed lovingly at her, and he asks “what?” in a low voice-- the second picture is taken just as sweets impulsively presses forward and attaches her lips to his; her first ever kiss, mind you, and it’s caught on camera.

the third picture depicts sweets nervously rambling, “i was going to ask for permission to kiss you first, i promise!” with the tips of her right hand fingers pressed to her own lips that were tingling while steve has a glassy, dreamy look in his eyes, slack jawed, staring right at her pouty lips.

and for the fourth photo? well, the fourth photo shows steve pressing forward himself to shut her up with another impossibly sweet and tender kiss, both of their eyes closed and his hand holding her jaw, thumb brushing against her cheek up and down while his heart goes haywire.

as they part from the second kiss, steve remembers that that was his angel’s first kiss and asks “was that okay?” nervously, to which sweets just smiles impossibly big, a noticeable blush on her cheeks, and nods excitedly over and over again. that was the perfect first, and second, kiss and she couldn’t have asked for anything more magical.

with the physical evidence in their hands that what just transpired inside that tiny booth was real and not a perfectly lovely dream, steve feels like he won the fucking lottery. and feels even more like a winner when sweets looks just as happy and just as in love as he is, “we look great together,” he can’t help but say.

“yeah, we do.”

they hold hands for the rest of the night.

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: A missing key and a terrible storm leaves you and Eddie stranded in the back of his van. What ever shall you do to pass the time?

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, friends-to-lovers, kinda sub!Eddie but he's mostly just a simp.

A/N: This will be my last 1k+ fic for a while, as I'll be focusing on writing blurbs for Corroded Coffin Fest throughout July. Why not go out with a (literal) bang?

--

“What do you mean, you forgot your key?”

Your eyes widen as Eddie flicks through the keyring. He shakes his head in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. 

“I was switching keychains…I thought I put them all back…” He huffs out an irritated laugh. “Must’ve left the house key on the table.”

A warm breeze siphons through the humidity, gray clouds rolling in. August in Hawkins is unbearable as it is, and the sticky heat before a storm is downright brutal. 

Eddie jiggles the doorknob once more, to no avail. “Jesus H. Christ.” He rakes a hand through his curls, frizzy and knotted from the hot weather. “Back to your place?”

Before you can agree, lightning flashes and is swiftly accompanied by booming thunder. Your heart leaps into your throat and you jump. 

“Scared the shit outta me, too.” Eddie laughs nervously. A fat raindrop falls from the sky and plops on his nose, rolling off of the side. Another lands on his cheek, then one lands on yours, until rain pours in a steady sheet. 

Eddie grabs your hand, tugging you off of the trailer’s front steps and pulling you back to his van. He flings open the back doors, always kept unlocked unless he’s hauling concert equipment. 

“Get in,” he orders, and you follow his instructions without a second though. Rainwater pools in the grass, dirt turning into mud beneath your sneakered feet. His hands grip your waist, steadying you as you climb up. “We’ll wait in here until the rain dies down.”

You ignore the lingering flames that his touch leaves behind and the way he’s now sitting right next to you. “It’s like a monsoon out there.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, listening to the storm raging outside. Raindrops sound like drum beats against the van’s exterior, a song you’ve heard many times before. 

A chill sweeps over you, reminding you of the wet cotton of your t-shirt clinging to your torso. Your miniskirt hasn't fared much better, the light-washed denim now dark. 

“Do you have a blanket back here?”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s, like, the one thing I don’t have.” He gestures to the cluttered space. 

You offer a half-smile. “S’okay.” Your palms glide up and down your goosebump-covered arms. 

He notices this, frowning. “Here,” he says. “My hands are bigger than yours.” He clumsily positions himself behind you, knees knocking against your sides. His grasp is strong but gentle, hands warming you up from the outside in. 

“Thanks.” He’s close—so close—yet it feels like he’s never been farther away. Without thinking, you scoot back until your ass brushes against his fly. 

“Sh-Shit.” Eddie inhales sharply. “That’s, um, dangerous territory.”

You raise your brows, though he can’t see them. “And rubbing my arms isn’t?”

Eddie peers around, chin resting on your shoulder. He looks up and says, “it doesn’t turn you on though.”

“Says who?”

He breathes out a laugh, stopping immediately when he realizes that you’re not joking. His voice is barely above a whisper when he asks, “This…this turns you on?” 

You nod, suddenly shy at the admission. 

“How about this?” Eddie’s lips press against the back of your neck. One calloused hand reaches for the collar of your shirt, tugging it down to expose your shoulder. He kisses that, too, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. 

“Mhm.”

“Fuck.” His other hand snakes around your throat, holding it firmly but being careful not to squeeze. “We shouldn’t do this. S’gonna ruin our friendship.”

Gently, you turn to face him, legs straddling his waist. “I’m fine with ruining it if you are.” The words are murmured, muffled by the proximity of your lips and his. 

Eddie swallows, Adam's apple bobbing with trepidation. “Just want you. Fuck, I want you so bad.”

He grabs your ass and pulls you closer until you can feel his erection straining against his jeans. You roll your hips, eliciting a moan from him. 

“You—I gotta—” He unbuckles his belt, tossing it amongst the van’s clutter. “I’m so hard it hurts.”

You reach for his pants button, but he shakes his head. “I’ll bust if you touch me,” he sheepishly explains. 

He takes off his own pants, which is much more of a chore than usual because of the rain-soaked fabric. He doesn’t bother to remove his Hellfire shirt, but you hardly notice. His tented boxers hold your focus, and despite his warning, you strip them away. You need to see what’s beneath them. 

The sight before you is nothing less than glorious. 

His cock is hard, curved slightly left, the pinkish-purple tip already leaking pre-cum. Your thumb traces the vein that runs along the shaft, and he shivers at your touch. When he looks at you with wide, wet eyes, you nearly melt on the spot.

“Is…Is this what you want?” Eddie’s voice is so soft you can barely hear it above the pouring rain. “Because…I want this so bad. So fucking bad.” Pleading, desperate, bordering on pathetic. Everything he showed outwardly, you felt on the inside.

You lean in, capturing his lips and pouring all of your desire into one searing kiss. “Don’t just want it. Need it. Need you,” you reassure him, feeling his length twitch against you. Taking it in your hand, you move your panties out of the way and rub the head against your clit. Every nudge sends a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. “Mmmph, please, please.”

Eddie wraps his hand around yours, guiding his cock into you. “There you go,” he whispers, hissing as you sink down. He fills you completely, bringing a pinch of pain as you adjust to him. “You okay?”

“Mhm. M-More than okay.” You grip his shoulders, curling your fingers into the shirt’s cotton fabric.  Moving your hips, you work him deeper until he’s bottomed out, sheathed within you down to the curls at his base. 

Everything is Eddie, and it feels so good. 

“Can’t believe I’m inside you.” He tries to kiss you, the action hindered by a small laugh. “I’m actually—we’re actually doing this. Fuck, you feel so good!” The last sentence is a growl, raw and primal. 

You hold on to him, knees scraping against the van’s worn carpet as your movements find their rhythm. There’s no more time for self-control. Only Eddie, his hips bucking to meet your core. 

“Might…might not last long,” he admits, swiping at a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. “You’re even better than my fantasies. Never knew you’d feel this f-fucking warm. Tight. Like you’re m-made for me.”

“Maybe I am.” You swoop down to suck on his neck. “Maybe I am made for you, and I’ve been waiting for you to realize it.”

Eddie groans, throwing his head back and exposing more of his neck, which you dutifully continue marking. His thoughts are clouded by lust; neither of you speak for a while, the only noises are moans and the van squeaking on its axles. 

“It’s always you.”

Your eyes meet his. “What?”

“In my fantasies. It’s always you. Every time I jerk off, I imagine your hands, your mouth, your perfect pussy—”

“Eddie.” His name is barely a breath. You clench around him just as he kisses you, and his teeth sink into your lower lip. It’s not hard enough to draw blood, but it produces a twinge of pain that has you skyrocketing towards climax. “Yes, yes, yes!”

He grabs your hips harshly, keeping you flush against him. The denim waistband of your skirt digs into your skin but you don’t care. Nothing matters, only Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…

“I’m coming. Fuck, I’m coming.” He thrusts upwards in short, punctuated strokes, heaving as he spills into you. 

The two of you stay like that for a few moments, catching your breath and processing what just happened. You confessed that Eddie’s touch turned you on, you rode him in the back of his van, and then he confessed that he thinks about you when he touches himself. 

Oh, and he gave you an earth-shattering orgasm. 

As if reading your mind, Eddie says softly, “you came…right? Because if you didn’t, I can—”

“Yeah.” You can’t help but giggle, silencing him with a kiss. “I definitely came.”

His chest sags with relief. “Good. Me, too. I mean, obviously. It’s right…” He withdraws, cock softening, his cum trickling down your thigh. “Holy fucking shit.” 

There’s no masking his grin, visible through the t-shirt’s thin fabric as he pulls it over his head. With a careful touch, he wipes away his mess. 

“I think I owe you a new shirt.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, tossing the shirt aside. “I have a million of these. Not the first time one’s been, uh, stained.”

Eddie’s cheeks turn crimson at his admission. He averts his gaze from you, bringing his attention to the foggy window. The condensation squeaks under his forefinger as he draws a smiley face through it. 

“What do you wanna do till my uncle gets home?”

You, you think, but the last thing you need is for Wayne to find the van a-rockin’. “Maybe I could hear more about those fantasies of yours? And I could tell you some of mine?”

Eddie looks back at you, his spent cock still managing a small twitch. “Mmm.” His lips find your throat, sending vibrations through you when he speaks. One hand snakes between your bodies, his middle finger landing on your clit. He makes small, deliberate circles as he murmurs.

“Ladies first.”

--