#Reefer Express

[reeferexpress]

10 Steps To Help Manage Global Clinical Trial Logistics

Global clinical trial logistics refers to the process of organizing and managing all aspects of a clinical trial, from start to finish, in multiple countries around the world. This includes everything from identifying and selecting appropriate sites for the trial, to coordinating the shipment of supplies and equipment, to ensuring that patient data is collected and managed effectively.

There are many challenges that can arise during healthcare logistics clinical trials, which is why it is important to have a robust logistics plan in place. This should include contingencies for delays, issues with shipments, and other potential problems that could impact the trial.

Here are 10 steps to help you manage global clinical trial logistics:

1. Define the scope of the clinical trial

The first step is to clearly define the scope of the trial, including the number of countries involved, the number of sites, and the type of patients that will be recruited. This will help you to identify any potential logistical challenges that could arise.

2. Select the countries where the trial will take place.

We choose the countries in which to conduct a clinical trial based on a number of factors, including the regulatory environment, the availability of patients and the infrastructure.

3. Identify and assess potential sites for the trial.

Once you have selected the place, you will need to identify and assess potential sites for the trial. This includes assessing the infrastructure and resources available at each site, as well as the staff experience and expertise.

4. Develop a shipping and customs plan.

A clinical trial will often involve shipments of supplies and equipment to and from multiple countries. It is important to develop a shipping and customs plan that takes into account the regulations of each country, as well as any potential delays that could occur.

5. Coordinate the clinical trial schedule.

The clinical trial schedule needs to be coordinated across all of the sites involved in the trial. This includes ensuring that patients are recruited and enrolled in a timely fashion, and that data is collected and reported according to the schedule.

6. Manage patient data.

Patient data needs to be managed effectively in order to ensure the success of the clinical trial. This includes ensuring that data is collected correctly, stored securely, and analyzed accurately.

7. Monitor the progress of the trial.

The clinical trial needs to be monitored on an ongoing basis to ensure that it is progressing as planned. This includes assessing the data that has been collected, monitoring patient safety, and reviewing the status of the trial at each site.

8. Prepare for potential problems.

It is important to be prepared for potential problems that could occur during the clinical trial. This includes having contingency plans in place for delays, issues with shipments, and other potential problems.

9. Communicate with all stakeholders.

It is important to communicate effectively with all stakeholders throughout the clinical trial. This includes keeping everyone up-to-date on the progress of the trial, as well as any changes or problems that arise.

10. Review the clinical trial after completion.

Once the clinical trial is complete, it is important to review the data and assess the overall results. This will help to identify any lessons that can be learned from the trial, and determine whether or not it was a success.

Global clinical trial logistics can be complex and challenging, but by following these steps, you can help ensure that your trial runs smoothly and efficiently.

Clinical Trial Logistics by reefer express

Reefer Express is a full-service clinical trial logistics provider. We offer a complete range of services to support your clinical trial, from site selection and feasibility to shipping and customs clearance. Our team has extensive experience in managing global clinical trials, and we are committed to providing the highest level of service and support. Contact us today to learn more about how we can help you with your clinical trial logistics.

[l0vergirlwrites]

gulity as sin ; eddie munson

synopsis: since eddie joined your friend group, you’ve fallen for him. but sometimes the feelings you’ve harboured for him make you feel guilty—but he’s just too dreamy, so how could anyone blame you?

warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of weed & alcohol & partying, mentions of sexual thoughts, downbad!reader & eddie, love confession & makeout!!!!

note: i just had to get this out of my system but i’ll write my next ttpd fic based on the winning things on the polls don’t worry!!

“just so you know, you’re staring at eddie like you wanna fuck him” robin whispered in your ear as she came to your side with extra vcr tapes to stack near the back of the store.

“jesus! am i really?” you asked in a hushed whisper, face crowing warm with embarrassment. you couldn’t help it when eddie just looked so good as he leaned on the front counter talking to steve.

while you mentally face palmed yourself, robin gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “just a little bit”

peeking back over her shoulder at eddie to make sure he wasn’t looking at you (because you’re anxious & paranoid), you let out a breath of relief. “you think he noticed?”

she laughed “i hope not”

letting out a quiet gasp, you shoved robin’s shoulder “thanks for the vote of confidence, rob” you said sarcastically.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!—but seriously…” she paused for moment to create dramatic effect. “when are you gonna fess up & tell him how you feel?”

the big question.

with a big sigh, you shook your head in retreat. “probably never. it’s just some stupid crush—& besides, we’re just friends. i don’t know if he’d like me like that, rob.” you said while getting back to work, trying to get the image of eddie’s ring clad hands out of your mind so you could focus.

“is that really how you feel? or is your fear of rejection speaking for you?”

narrowing your eyes at her, you rolled your eyes knowing she was kidding (but was she? were you really hiding behind a guise so you wouldn’t get hurt?).

“you know,” she paused to look at eddie. “if he doesn’t want to jump your bones, i’d be floored” she said cheekily, causing you to nudge her rib cage.

“he doesn’t” you stated, but in your mind you hated the thought of it.

“if that’s what’ll help you sleep at night” she chided before moving onto a different shelf, the open space letting your eyes drift back to eddie, only to find that he was looking right at you.

“you coming to the party by reefer rick’s place on the weekend? i convinced stevie boy here to tag along—“

“—& to be the DD. i don’t know how i got roped into this” steve cut eddie off with an exasperated expression.

with the spotlight (eddie’s eyes) on you, you couldn’t help but feel stuck in place & your mind was running a million miles a minute.

clearing your throat, you nodded. “yeah sure! i should be able to if keith doesn’t make me come in last minute”

the last sentence caused eddie to roll his eyes.

“who cares about what keith says—you’re coming & you’re gonna have fun! you’re deserving of blowing off some steam, right?” eddie said convincingly.

“he’s right! fuck keith & his stupid last minute shift calls“ robin agreed with steve soon following suit.

jokingly with your hands up in surrender, you finally agreed. “maybe you guys are right…”

“of course we are, babe!”

the pet name eddie called you made your stomach flip in six directions, your face growing warm until steve beat you to speak.

“when the hell did ‘babe’ get into your vocabulary, munson?” he asked eddie with a quizzical eye.

“oh calm your tits harrington—“

“hey man, i don’t have tits & i am calm so shut—“

“hey!” you yelled, shutting them both up. “no bickering on my watch, idiots” you pointed to them both, causing eddie to place his right hand in his heart in apology.

“what do you expect,” robin chimed in. “they’re five year olds”

you both laughed a bit at her comment while the guys just rolled their eyes.

“well, i’m gonna head out & prep for my next campaign. butttt, i’ll see you geeks saturday?” he asked while twirling his van keys around his index finger.

before steve could try to rebuttle against eddie about him calling you all “geeks”, you beat him to it.

“yes—we’ll be there! bye eds” you waved sweetly, your hand flattering when eddie shot you a wink before heading out the door.

as the glass door chimed & shut after his departure, you immediately turned to robin.

“he winked at me!” you mouthed to her with excitement.

“are you guys secretly talking without including me, again?”

turning to steve, you gave him an apologetic look. “she was just fawning over how eddie winked at her” robin said with a nonchalant smile, causing you to gasp.

“robin—“

“why do you care if he—wait… ohhh… that makes sense” he lit up like a light bulb, going back to checking through the return log on the computer.

you stood there stumped at his reaction.

“is me liking eddie predictable?” you asked aloud, causing steve & robin to share a glance.

“yes” they said collectively, leaving you to sigh & turn back to the shelf to finish stacking the pile of tapes.

**~*~**~*~*~**~*~~*~**~*~*~~***~*

it was now saturday, & you were on speaker phone with robin as you were getting ready for the party.

you had decided to wear a short flowy black skirt, fishnet tights, your favourite black boots, & a dark green babytee with your favourite band on it. it was simple, but cute (& you secretly hoped eddie would think the tights were a nice touch).

“do you think you’ll tell eddie how you feel once you get some liquid courage in you?” she asked genuinely.

with a thoughtful sigh, you stopped applying blush to your right cheek. “gosh, rob—i don’t know. i don’t think it’s a good idea”.

you could tell she was shaking her head from the other side of the phone.

“remember when i was too afraid to tell vicky i liked her?”

you knew what she was gonna say. “yes, i do”

“so, you remember how you told me i should just ‘go for it! do it before it’s too late—what’s the worst that could happen?’, right?”

you slumped in your desk chair, fidgeting with your makeup brush. “yes…”

“sooo, you gotta practice what you preach—tell him before you regret it!” she encouraged, but still, you were horrified to.

“what if—“

she shushed you. “no what ifs. don’t do that to yourself—just be honest when the right moment comes along”

staying silent for a moment, you thought it over in your head before coming to a conclusion.

“maybe you are right, robin”

“i’m always right—regardless of what steve says” her words made you laugh, relieving you of a little stress.

**~*~*~~~*~***~*~**~**~*~*~~*

it was now nine-thirty on the dot & you could hear steve’s beamer honking from your driveway, signalling that it’s time to go. as soon as you stepped onto your driveway, you were met with hollers & whistles from your friends in the car—including eddie.

as soon as you saw him with his head out the window, whistling & vocally saying “shit y/n, looking good!”, you could’ve sworn you were going to collapse then & there.

shushing them before their hyper annoyed your neighbours, you (coincidentally) got into the backseat with eddie.

“you have everything?” steve asked before reversing the car.

“yes, dad” you joked before a silver flask was shoved into your lap.

“got you your favourite” eddie told you with a smile, causing you to audibly “awe” & thank him before taking a swing from it.

despite steve having a fancy car, the backseat was surprisingly small, so you knew it was going to be a long night with how your thigh is already pressed into eddie’s & his fingers were tapping his jean clad thigh dangerously close to your exposed one.

you caught him every now & then staring at your tights too, which didn’t help the fantasies brewing in your mind of him taking them off you.

“you excited?” you asked him while steve & robin were caught in their own conversation.

swiping his tongue across his teeth, he looked at you with a gaze that made your stomach tighten. “as long as you stick close by, then yeah i’m excited” he nudged you gently, allowing you a moment to process what he just fucking said.

tucking your hair behind your ears (a sign that you were nervous & liked him & were going insane), you let the conversation drift into comfortable silence as steve turned the radio up.

thank god for that.

**~*~~**~**~***~**~*~~**~**~*

the party eddie brought you guys to was packed at some random house on lover’s lake.

& it reeked of pot & beer, which was normal & expected.

with the flask eddie gave you in your right hand & eddie’s hand in your other (because the front lawn was packed & he didn’t want to lose you), your group maneuvered your way inside to disco party lights, sweaty bodies, more pot & more beer.

your grip on eddie’s hand was taut as you continued sliding past more & more people while muttering “excuse me, sorry!” over & over until you guys arrived on the dance floor.

“do you want anything?” eddie leaned down & whispered into your ear so you could hear over the music.

you took a second to answer because of how warm his breath felt against your skin. “no i’m okay, i got this remember?” you said with a smile, holding up the flask he gave you.

returning you a smile, eddie let go of your hand because robin was pulling you to dance a little.

“be back in five!” eddie mouthed to you, holding up five fingers & looking at you until you waved in acknowledgment.

“okay there’s no way he doesn’t want you” robin yelled into your ear as the song changed & people roared happily.

laughing & shaking your head, you disagreed.

“cmon! let’s just dance, yeah? destress!” steve yelled to you both before bopping his head to the music, causing you & robin to look at each other before laughing & join in.

the more songs played & the more you swing back eddie’s flask, you could feel yourself letting loose a little—possibly even making you feel courageous.

so much so that when eddie returned with a red solo cup with some sort of drink, you slung your arm around his middle for a quick hug.

“missed me?” he yelled in your ear.

“just maybe” you replied, feeling his right hand rub your arm up & down before fetching a joint from his pocket.

“missed me more now?” he asked again, laughing when you nodded your head, eyes glassy from the smoke in the room that was building.

“outside?” he yelled again, & you were the only one that agreed.

*~*~*~~*~~*~*~~**~***~*

departing from steve & robin to go smoke, eddie grabbed your hand once again & kept you close as you both made your way to the back porch that outlooked onto the water.

the backyard was still filled with people, especially jocks who were doing dumb keg games, but you didn’t mind. with your back against the siding of the house & eddie in front of you, caging you in, all you saw was him.

& god he looked hot. his hair was a bit frizzy, but his leather jacket managed to showcase his muscular arms & his slightly cropped band tee allowed you to see the happy trail on his abdomen.

it took everything in your power not to fold then & there.

“you want the first hit?” eddie asked as passed you his drink & pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

with a simple nod, you placed the joint between your lipstick covered lips & leaned forward for eddie to light the end of it for you. the action felt extremely intimate & already hand your skin tingling.

with the joint slotted between your fingers, you took a few hits & relished in the buzzed feeling it already gave you. & knowing eddie & is interest in pot, you knew whatever was wrapped within the joint was the good shit.

while you were taking your hits, eddie was reminding himself to not get hard at the thought of your lipstick rubbing off onto the joint or how you looked pretty with smoke exhaling from your mouth—he could feel his pants start to feel the tiniest bit tight at his view of you.

when you handed the joint to him, eddie stood beside you on the wall & took his time (possibly so you could look at him a little longer?).

& you didn’t care because he just looked too perfect with his head tilted up, the veins in his neck showing in the porch light, the joint rested between his ring clad fingers—you could already imagine yourself getting off to this image of him later—but you reminded yourself to stay cool.

everything was fine! you guys were just friends!

“you feeling okay?” eddie asked, turning to you who was already giving him soft doe eyes.

“better than okay” you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder because you felt too warm under his gaze.

“wanna get off inside?” you heard him ask, causing you to cough & blink for a moment.

“shit—what did you say?” you looked at him, feeling his hand begin to interlock with yours again.

“i asked if you wanna go back inside—you sure you’re good?”

oh god, now you were hearing things.

“y-yeah, good idea” you mumbled as you followed his lead, holding on tight to avoid getting broken apart through the sea of teenagers & college students.

you only broke apart when robin pulled you in for a hug, hearing her say “it felt like you were gone for ages!”

for the rest do the night, you told yourself to he lost in the music rather than thoughts of eddie munson doing nasty things to you, which was going pretty successful until you felt his breath on your neck again.

“wanna dance?”

& how on earth could you say no?!?!

you let him pull you into his arms, his hands firm on your waist while yours were loose around his neck.

with the pot & other alcohol mixing in your system, you felt on top of the world. especially with eddie’s eyes on you. he’d twirl you around in circles & give you room to dance your heart out with him in your grasp & steve & robin would give each other knowing glances about whatever was brewing between you too.

you felt hot, sticky, & tingly all over your skin (not just because eddie was touching you) so you pulled his head down a bit to yell in his ear. “i’m gonna find a washroom!” & he was leading you around the house to find one without a question.

once you both found one of the third floor of this outrageous house, you pulled eddie in with you & turned on the light, thankful there was a dim setting.

“jesus, that was bright!” eddie shielded his eyes, causing you to laugh as you hopped up onto the counter.

exhaling a sigh of relief, you let your head lean back & rest against the mirror while eddie leaned against the closed door.

“do you need me to like, turn around or something…?” he asked, wondering what you were going to do.

“no—i just wanted to go somewhere quieter. less sweaty bodies”

he nodded understandingly before shamefully looking you up & down, telling himself to not get hard at the sight of you so pretty. you were already falling down a rabbit hole of all the things you want to do with him right now, each more dirty than the next—it would be just so easy for him to take off your skirt & unbuckle his pants—wouldn’t it?

but the guilt started to seep in & make you hide your face to groan in annoyance because why on earth were you spiralling like this?

“is something wrong?” he walked to you, holding your wrists & pulling them away to uncover you.

“just going insane is all” you replied, causing you both to laugh until he reached up to wipe off some of your smudged eyeliner from your under eye. he just needed to touch you somehow.

“guess what an old friend told me while i was getting a drink earlier”

you tilted your head in wonder, staring directly at eddie’s lips as he spoke.

“he saw us walk inside & told me that we looked like some couple from a movie—don’t remember which one though…” he ended with a murmur, too focussed on swiping his thumb on your cheek until you spoke up.

“is that a bad thing?” you asked, suddenly feeling small in this washroom with his hand directly on your skin.

eddie was closing in on you now, & you didn’t want it to stop.

you instantly felt sober now. especially with how each swipe on your skin felt like he was making you his—which was definitely an exaggeration but how could you need feel that way when he was holding you so delicately?

shaking his head ‘no’, eddie’s brows furrowed. “of course not—it’s not a bad thing. i-i just thought it was, i dunno, cute—“

“cute?” you questioned softer than him, a smile in the beginning stages of forming on your face.

was this your moment that robin was talking about? you sure hoped so.

“i-i think that’s the right word” he stumbled over his words, feeling your right hand brush some hair out of his face.

“i think so too”

& then there was comfortable silence.

you weren’t sure how to move forward from here. do you tell him all your feelings for him that you’ve keep hidden in a vault at the back of your mind? do you tell him that you’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks? that he’s the only one that makes you feel so many things?

you wish this part was easier.

“would it be, i dunno, uncalled for if i told you that you’ve been driving me crazy?” eddie asked, immediately unlocking said vault inside you.

“are you serious?” you asked, completely sober now as you pulled his hand away from your face & fixed your posture, eyes locked on his for the answer.

“as serious as the dead” his breath hitched, unsure if he made things worse or misread whatever signs you sent, but before he could apologize your hands were already on his face to pull his lips to yours.

it was a messy, top lip & hungry kiss that you’ve been dying to experience since you first laid eyes on him. & god did it felt right, with his tongue meshing with yours & his hands gripping your fishnet covered thighs as he pulled you closer to his body with aching need.

it was the kind of kiss that tried to convey just how you felt about him, the wanting & lusting from afar, the longing glances & lip bites when he made you feel a certain type of way.

it was catastrophic & heavy but sweet with laboured breaths of beer & smudged lipstick.

“holy shit” eddie breathed out against your lips, chasing him for another kiss because it was just that good but you were smiling & clashing your teeth against his & giggling from how silly it all felt.

“that is why i’ve been going insane” you panted against him, hands falling to grip the cotton of his shirt.

“i’m crazy about you eddie. & it’s not the drugs talking, i promise” you swore, scouts honour.

with his forehead pressing against yours & laugh escaping his lips that had little bits of your lipstick, he squeezed your thighs. “i would hope not, ‘cause i’m really crazy about you too”

you closed your eyes now, relishing in the weight lifting off your shoulders & how his touch felt electric. “eddie” you exhaled.

“yeah, sweetheart?” his fingers were pressing different patterns on your thighs to the point where you asked in yourself if he was writing ‘mine’ across the fishnet material.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” you asked, already longing for this feeling to last, praying this wouldn’t be just a one time thing at a party.

“i don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, so yeah, i think we can make it happen” eddie smirked, kissing you quick before pulling back to see your swollen lips.

“wanna go back to the party & surprise the geeks?”

“i’d love to”

& with eddie whisking you from the counter, hand on your hip as he lead you back downstairs, you both immediately saw steve & robin jumping up & down happily when they witnessed you two looking like love sick idiots who finally fessed up.

young love, am i right?

[munsons-maiden]

𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Here's a little oneshot for you, lovelies! I hope you enjoy 🖤

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Eddie Munson x female reader (no physical descriptions, though)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Based on this request: could i request maybe eddie brings reader to a deal but wants her to stay in the van so she’s safe but the people he’s dealing to see her because she walked out to tell eddie something and it doesn’t go so well. and after the situation eddie and her argue but eddie’s upset and just what’s to protect her 🥺 but ofc it ends well🫡

- I hope you like it, dear!🖤

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | fights turning into love confessions, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | angst with a happy ending, attempted (sexual) assault

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚���𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝🖤

You can barely make out your surroundings, the little dirt path leading you deeper into the woods, in the darkness between the trees as you slowly draw closer – the moon and stars have vanished behind the clouds as if they’ve gone into hiding, and the taste of a summer storm already laces the stuffy air.

In all these years of being Eddie Munson’s friend, there’s been one simple rule when it comes to him meeting his customers for a drug deal:

Stay in the car.

The customers are harmless. It’s the cops I’m worried about, he tells you, expression stern, whenever you crack a joke about him being scared you could scare away a customer.

It’s tiny little Hawkins, and the deals gone wrong that sometimes make it into the TV news or newspaper headlines are over coke and heroin and all the hard stuff Eddie would never sell, not over something as harmless as weed or the occasional pill of ketamine.

Tonight has been no different.

It was supposed to be a quick deal on your way to the Carnival two towns over at Sycamore where you’re supposed to meet the rest of Hellfire.

Some new customer sent by Reefer Rick.

But the longer you’ve been sitting in Eddie’s van, in the dark, in the middle of the lonely road that cuts through the woods surrounding Hawkins…this nagging feeling started to grow in your chest. First into worry, then into outright panic when you’d watched the clock on the old van’s display tick, one minute turning into five, and five into ten.

What if something went wrong?

What if something horrible happened to him?

What if Eddie needs your help?

You wanted to tell him, tonight at the fair, beneath the see of glittering lights of the Ferris wheel. That you’re in love with him. That you’ve been, for a very long time. That even if he doesn’t feel the same, you need to say it out loud, how you first fell for all the tiny little pieces that make him Eddie and then wholly and utterly and completely.

When ten minutes bled into fifteen, and your mind had come up with the most horrid scenarios fueled by news coverage of drug deals breaking into violence, conjuring up gruesome images of Eddie bleeding out between the ferns and brambles covering the forest floor, blood soaking the moss, you couldn’t stay cooped up in the confines of his old van a second longer.

You broke Eddie’s one rule. You left the car and went looking for him.

As you’re now traipsing along the small dirt path cutting through the brambles and ferns, the fabric of your summer dress you’ve spent an entire weekend picking out at the mall just so Eddie might finally start seeing you as something else as his friend, sticking to your sweaty skin and thorns scratching at your legs, you realize that even if Eddie needs your help…how the fuck would you even be able to help him?

It’s not like you’re carrying a gun in the little bag you’re clutching at your side.

The sound of voices startles you out of your thoughts, and in the dark, your eyes lock on the two silhouettes in the little clearing ahead of you.

You recognize Eddie first – you’d recognize him everywhere.

He’s standing with his back to you. Even with the remaining distance between the two of you, the darkness of the woods, you can tell that his shoulders are tense.

His whole body is holding a kind of tension you’ve only ever seen on him once before, a few years ago, when his deadbeat father had shown up at the trailer park drunken and shouting curses into the wind before Eddie had dragged you into the safety Wayne’s trailer.

A twig snaps beneath your sneakers, and both Eddie and his customer whirl around to you.

And you realize you’ve made a huge mistake.

The guy in front of Eddie is no nervous classmate, not one of the chill stoner guys always hanging around beneath the bleachers. No friendly family dad or stressed housewife looking for a little relaxation or piece of rebellion.

The guy’s buzzcut does nothing to soften the harsh angles of his face, the lines around his mouth formed by the frown that seems to be engraved there.

There’s something menacing in his eyes as they lock on you.

Something evil and predatory.

The guy licks his lips, and his mouth curls into a lewd smirk, a twisted mirror to the abysmal panic in Eddie’s wide eyes as he stares at you.

You can read them like the pages of an open book.

What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay in the car!

The guy slaps a meaty hand on Eddie’s shoulder, hard enough to make Eddie sway a little on his feet with the impact. And contrary to what the jocks at Hawkins High believe, Eddie is strong.

“And at first I thought you’d brought the cops,” the guy laughs – but it’s not a friendly laugh. It doesn’t reach his eyes, either. He’s got muscles. A lot of them, flexing beneath his skin as he lets his arm sink from Eddie’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t do that to your old friend though, would you? Instead, you brought me a present.”

There’s an eagle tattooed across the guy’s throat, wings spread wide. It’s fitting, this bird of prey marking him. You feel like a tiny little robin beneath his gaze.

Eddie’s eyes haven’t left you for a single second.

“I told you to stay in the car.” His voice is strained with barely suppressed fury and, above all else…panic.

“Nah, we’re good,” the guy grins, letting his eyes roam over you.

Making you wish you were wearing something other than a short little summer dress.

“Come on closer, little birdie,” he drawls, “Don’t be shy now.”

“Go back to the car,” Eddie says, louder, the vehemence of his tone flashing in his panicked eyes. His voice is trembling. “Now.”

“What, you don’t want to introduce us?” The man drawls. The threat in his own voice is as clear and tangible as the panic in Eddie’s umber eyes as he shakes his head, the movement subtle, barely visible. Go, he mouths. Now.

At the guy, he adds, “I thought we were here to talk about business.”

“You want me to focus on business when you brought your pretty girl with you, boy?” The guy makes a beckoning motion at you, still frozen like a deer in the headlights, rooted to your spot only feet away from him and Eddie. “Come closer, doll. Don’t be shy now.”

“No,” Eddie interjects, fervor smoothing his voice as it cuts through the rain-laced air of the clearing, despair flashing out beneath the panic, “She’s not part of this.”

You’re scared out of your mind.

But hell will freeze over before you leave Eddie alone with this man.

So you do what the guy told you.

You step closer, coming to stand beside Eddie.

“Tell you what, boy,” the man purrs, tearing his eyes off of you to meet Eddie’s, a flash of yellowed teeth in diffuse moonlight, as his smirk grows into a grin so devilish you wouldn’t have been surprised had they been pointed, “I’m gonna give you a few more bucks and you’re gonna give me a few minutes with your lovely lady here.”

Beside you, Eddie inches closer to you, shifting to place himself between the guy and you.

Trying to shield you with his own body, you realize.

Eddie Munson, who always swore he was no hero outside of D&D, is becoming your hero right now.

“I’ll give you everything I got with me right now, and you leave,” Eddie counters, voice hard.

A desperate attempt to get you out of this situation.

Almost completely hidden from the guy’s field of vision with Eddie having placed himself in front of you, his muscles taut and ready to fight, your hands slowly dive into the bag slung over your shoulder, fingertips carefully feeling for something, anything, to use to protect him, to protect both of you –

“Or,” the man drawls, taking a step closer, with the ease of a predator rounding in on a wounded fawn, “I’ll just take whatever you got and have some fun with your pretty lady.”

It happens too fast to see it coming.

There’s a snapping sound as the flick-knife the guy must have been holding, concealed in his meaty fist and the dark of night, is flipped open, the jagged blade flashing in the obscure beams of moonlight filtering through the clouds and the foliage of trees above your heads – and Eddie pushes you farther behind him.

Placing yourself between you and the knife’s path as he snaps, voice vibrating, “Stay the fuck away from her.”

The man lets out a low, rumbling chuckle. “And what are you gonna do, hm?”

There. Your fingers wrap around something smooth and cool nestled at the bottom of your bag.

And not a second too soon.

Before the guy can let the knife in his fist soar down to hurt Eddie, you duck around your friend, your own hand flying up as you press your index finger down in the spray bottle in your sweaty grip, sending a blast of hair spray straight into the guy’s face.

He screams, hands flying up to cover his eyes as he stumbles backwards, and the flick-knife lands between the ferns.

Eddie doesn’t waste a single second.

His hand finding yours, he pulls you away from the screaming, staggering man and pushes you towards the path that leads back to the road and the van and safety. Together, you break into a run.

You don’t notice the thorns of the brambles cutting your legs, the burn of your lungs, your muscles, because it all fades to white noise beneath the roaring of blood in your ears, the wild pounding of your heart, Eddie’s own racing steps behind you.

Only at the edges of your panic-addled mind you realize that he’s staying behind you to make sure you’ll get away, first.

The van comes up in the distance, a flash of white among the leaves and branches, and you feel the first tender burst of relief wash through you at the sight.

Eddie rips the driver’s side door open, all but shoving you inside and onto the passenger seat as he climbs in after you, and the old engine comes to life with a sputtering roar. The van jerks forwards with screeching tires as your hands shoot out to grab the door’s handle to avoid toppling over into the footwell.

As the vehicle bolts down the country road leading out of the woods, silence descends upon you, heavy and loud even beneath the roar of the engine, your own panting breaths slowly calming.

You cast Eddie a careful sideways glance.

He doesn’t look at you.

His eyes are glued to the road the way his foot is glued to the gas pedal, jaw set, and his knuckles clamped around the wheel are white.

You’ve never seen him so angry in all the time you’ve known him.

You’ve never felt so angry in all the time you’ve known him, either.

When the van emerges from the woods and lights of the carnival come into sight, the twinkling form of the Ferris wheel rising over the rolling fields of wheat covering the landscape, Eddie steers the vehicle to the side of the road.

By the time he cuts off the engine and pushes the driver’s door open with a force that makes you fear it’ll just rip off its hinges, he still hasn’t uttered a single word.

You reach for the latch in your own door, but before you can open it, Eddie has already rounded the hood, and the door is ripped open to reveal his face, unreadable and void of all the usual humor and goofiness.

“Are you okay?” It sounds strangely hollow, the way he says it.

“Eddie –“

“Are you okay?” It’s nearly a shout, but not an angry one. Only scared. So fucking scared that it makes his voice shake as much as his hands coming up to rake through his curls while his dark eyes roam over you in the diffuse moonlight over the field, the dim glow of the lights inside the van, scanning the tiny cuts decorating your face and arms and legs where the brambles and branches of the woods have left their marks during your flight.

You give a tentative nod.

The breath he seems to have been holding leaves in a sharp exhale as he rakes his hand through his dark curls once more, sending stray leaves falling out as he starts pacing at the edge of the road.

You climb out of the car.

And the storm that’s been building the past few minutes breaks lose – not in the sky, but down beneath it.

“I TOLD YOU TO STAY IN THE FUCKING CAR!”

Eddie has never shouted at you.

You’ve never shouted at him, either, but it breaks out of you like a flood-wave.

“ME?! THIS IS MY FAULT?!”

“YES! FUCKING HELL YES IT IS! SHIT. IF YOU HAD, JUST FOR ONCE, LISTENED –“

“ME?! I’M NOT THE ONE MEETING FUCKING KILLERS IN THE WOODS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!”

“THAT’S WHY I TOLD YOU TO STAY –“

“IF I’D STAYED IN THE CAR, YOU’D BE DEAD ON THE FOREST FLOOR NOW!” The thought of it, of Eddie, bleeding out between the ferns, scared and alone and in pain, makes the tears spill over and your voice shatter as you choke out the rest of the sentence in a miserable little whisper. “You’d be fucking dead!” Saying it aloud brings back the fury at him for being so fucking careless. “HE WAS ABOUT TO HURT YOU!”

“AND THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN WAY BETTER THAN IF HE’D HURT YOU! I CAN’T LOSE YOU, I FUCKING LOVE YOU!”

Eddie’s words shut you up.

They ring through the night, mingle with the soft summer breeze that ruffles the stalks of wheat in the nearby field, the rustling too loud in the shellshocked silence.

The tears which have been glittering in his dark eyes have started running down his pale cheeks.

For a few wild heartbeats, you just stare at each other in the moonlight piercing through the passing clouds, the glow of colorful lights of the fair at the edge of the field sending flares into the night, the stuffy summer night’s air pressing down on the two of you.

In a few quick strides, both of you cross the small distance between the two of you, meeting in the middle.

And then, you’re kissing.

And the world stills, heartbeat accelerating as panic and adrenaline bleed into something entirely else, something that’s been trapped within you for so long it takes a second to realize this, right now, is truly happening.

Eddie’s lips, soft and hot against yours, his palms cradling your face, the metal of his rings warm with the heat of his body as they press gently against your skin.

He kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

He kisses you like he really, truly means it.

Because I fucking love you.

It’s better, so much better than even your wildest daydreams.

You know you’ll never want to kiss anyone else after this.

You know you don’t ever want this kiss to end.

It does, eventually. Eddie pulls away, wide-eyed and panting, lips slightly apart in a gape and curls in a tangled mess – from his own hands raking through it or yours right now, you can’t tell. Even in the half-dark of the night, you can see the blush dusting his cheeks.

“I – I’m sorry,” he breathes, the kiss-dazed gleam in his eyes making room for an appalled expression. “God, fuck, I’m – I didn’t think. I didn’t even ask –“

“I’ve been waiting for you to do this for a very long time,” you say quietly, giving him a soft smile.

For a moment, Eddie just stares at you, as if he’s contemplating whether his mind is playing tricks on him. “You, uh. You did?”

“Yeah,” you whisper into the few inches of between the two of you. “And now I’ll be waiting for you to do it again.”

He does. Not a single beat of hesitation.

This time, when Eddie’s lips meet yours, it’s softer, slower, yet just as intoxicating and feverish as that first kiss.

His hands snake up to cup your cheeks and angle your head as he slowly walks you backwards, until your back meets the side of the van, the metal still warm from the day and the sweltering night air, and butterflies flood your belly, your entire body, a colorful swarm of them making your skin tingle in all the places his body brushes against yours. His chest against yours, one of his knees between yours, his calloused fingertips gently trailing down the column of your throat.

Kissing Eddie Munson is as easy as breathing.

“I meant it,” he breathes into the kiss, before resting his forehead against yours, the curls of his bangs tickling you, “What I said. I’m so fucking sorry I dragged you into this mess. I’m so fucking sorry I put you in danger.” He swallows. “And I’m so fucking much in love with you.”

“I love you, too,” you whisper, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips, feeling his smile. “I’ve been loving you for a very long time, Eddie.”

You place your hands over his, still holding your face.

“I was so fucking scared,” Eddie murmurs, voice trembling again with new tears. “Fuck. I was so stupid –“

“We’re okay,” you whisper, fingers squeezing his, “We’re safe. You saved me.”

“Shit, you saved me. What even was that? Pepper spray?”

You chuckle. “Farah Fawcett hair spray.”

Eddie blinks, before he gives a breathless little laugh, as if he’s not sure he’d rather laugh or cry. Probably both. “Pretty fucking metal.”

“I wanted to look pretty for you tonight,” you amend, and Eddie’s expression grows serious again.

“You always look pretty, sweetheart. I’ve been having a pretty hard time not ogling you every second we’re together.”

“You need to promise me you’ll never ever meet clients in the middle of the woods. Not at night. Not by day either. And –“

“I promise,” Eddie interrupts, voice sincere. “I’m gonna stick to the clients I know. No expanding the business.”

“Good,” you breathe, letting your hands fall away from his to lock them at the nape of his neck, fingertips playing with his dark curls.

“Your hair is really soft,” you breathe, lips not an inch from his, feeling stupid all of a sudden for saying it out loud, but Eddie replies with an adorable little giggle that makes your heart soar and race and squeeze with love all at the same time.

“Thanks. It’s…uh. Don’t laugh. It’s Farah Fawcett conditioner.”

Your own soft laugh fades into the night as Eddie’s lips find yours again, the summer storm brewing over your heads and the glittering lights of the carnival in the distance and the moment of terror in the woods blurring against the radiant joy of knowing the one you love loves you back just as much.

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝🖤

Requests for angst/smangst remain open. If you want to check out my works in progress, here's the list🖤

[unclewaynemunson]

Steve has only known Eddie for a couple of days.

He thinks back to the way they met in Reefer Rick's boathouse; the desperation in Eddie's eyes, and the fear that had every inch of his body trembling. How utterly defeated he looked when Dustin told him about everything that had been happening in Hawkins over the past years.

He thinks back to the few times he saw him after, when bringing him food or checking up on him. He remembers how anxious he seemed at all times, how the despair and the fear never once left his features.

He thinks back to when they found him at Skull Rock, how his heart skipped a beat in a way that none of the girls he kissed in that same place ever managed to do. He had attributed it to relief, back then, shortly followed by this weird feeling in his chest when Eddie embraced Dustin – jealousy, but not of Eddie, like he had mistaken it for.

He thinks back to when Eddie handed him a flashlight when he was about to jump into Lover's Lake. A light in the darkness. A beacon. All those cliches.

He thinks back to the way in which Eddie waved that oar around when he had already thought himself a dead man. He remembers how right in the middle of that chaotic battle, the thought came to him that Eddie was brave not because of his fearlessness but because of his fear.

He thinks back to the look on Eddie's face when he threw his denim vest at him, and the way it did something to him that was so different from what Nancy's wide-eyed gaze only a second earlier had made him feel.

He thinks back to the honest conversation they had in the woods; the sinister particles that got caught in Eddie's curls like snow, and his fear still so clearly present in his expressive eyes, even though it had gotten pushed to the background by then. He thinks back to their lingering touches; to Eddie leaning into him as if the concept of personal space didn't exist at all and to the warmth he emitted; to Eddie calling him a “good dude” and making his stomach float like it hadn't done in years.

He thinks back to the pure relief on Eddie’s face when their attempt to talk to Dustin worked out; to his elated smile and the way he pumped his fist in the air; to his hand reaching out and squeezing Steve’s shoulder in nothing but excitement upon hearing Dustin’s voice call out to them.

He thinks back to how warm Eddie felt when their legs were pressed against each other while they were sat next to each other on Max’s couch. He remembers looking to his right and seeing how terrified Eddie looked; his quivering lip and his wet eyes, his head resting in his hands. He remembers how he wanted nothing more than to wrap an arm around him and tell him it would all be okay.

He thinks back to the way in which he couldn’t stop staring at Eddie's hands when Eddie was working on starting the motor of the Winnebago. He thinks back to Eddie telling him all about the Munson family name; Eddie calling him big boy with a huge grin on his face; Eddie jumping up from his seat and trusting him enough to let him take the wheel; Eddie cheering behind him like they were going for a rollercoaster ride instead of stealing someone’s house...

He thinks back to the fluttering he felt in his stomach when he watched Eddie mess around with Dustin in the fields; a tiny spark of happiness while they were getting ready for what could be the end of the world as they knew it.

But most of all, he thinks back to the last time he heard Eddie's voice.

Steve? A beat of silence as he turned around, Eddie's eyes piercing into his own. Make him pay.

All he had done was nod. He should've said it, back then. He thought he'd have more time. He'd only just met Eddie, after all. Surely they'd get the opportunity to figure their shit out at their own pace, after the battle would be over.

Don't try be a hero, was the only goodbye he had said to him.

We are not heroes, Eddie had promised him.

“Then why the hell did you do that?” His voice is trembling; Eddie’s hand feels cold in his own. “I liked you better when you weren't a hero, you know.”

He tightens his grip on Eddie's hand, allows himself to imagine that Eddie squeezes back.

“Me too, big boy.”

Steve's eyes snap back to Eddie's face. For a moment, he isn't sure if it's real or if his sleep deprived brain has started full-on hallucinating at this point. But it has to be true; there's no way he could hallucinate those big brown eyes so perfectly, even though they're dazed and glossed-over.

“Was definitely less painful.” Eddie's breathing sounds erratic and his grin looks anything but reassuring, but he's here. He’s alive. He woke up.

They got more time after all. He’ll get to hear everything Steve wanted to tell him. And there's no way Steve is gonna waste another precious second.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter ten of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: References to sex, Kind of depressing, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, this one is really sad y'all, like REALLY sad, I'm serious this one is really sad.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

**********************************************

1980

“Ben, stop.” You shout.

“Move damn it!” Ben’s eyes blaze a dark green sending a tremor down your spine, but you don’t budge.

“No.”

“Get the fuck out of my way.” He snarls louder.

You stand defiantly in front of him, where he towers over you, eyes narrowed, and shoulders tensed. His broad shoulders block the fluorescent lights that hang overhead and illuminate the gym, dramatizing his imposing figure.

“I’m not going to. So you’re either going to have to move me yourself or you can go cool off.” Your retort your voice icy.

The heat from Ben’s anger vibrated through the air between you, but you weren’t going to move. Not when he was being ridiculous.

Noir was angry, angry that Ben took a movie role that he wanted. In hindsight you also thought it was ridiculous that Ben needed to star in all the movies. He was already America’s First Superhero and the Golden Boy and America’s Sweetheart, but it wasn't enough for him for some reason. You often thought his obsession with fame had something to do with his dad. Ben had a lot of problems when it came to his father, all of which made Ben compensate other ways, such as, feeling the need to be in charge, feeling the need to be loved and accepted by others he didn’t know, being unable to express his emotions, and the current problem which was feeling the need to claim the dominant role as most popular superhero.

Aka when he turned into Captain Toxic Masculinity.

Honestly, you were exhausted. All of this was exhausting. Ben was exhausting.  As someone who’d loved him this long you couldn’t help but see the shift from the boy you used to know into something unrecognizable. Occasionally you could see Ben, the old Ben, your Ben, who laughed with you, but those moments were few and certainly didn’t happen in public.

You shoulders tense with the force of your own anger and frustration, standing tall between Ben and Noir who lays on the ground behind you. Noir hadn't made an effort to get up, still stunned from the blows he took from Ben. The first few punches you hadn’t stopped, but it was when Ben felt the need to continue despite Noir’s pleas to stop that you had to step in.

You didn’t know where that came from, Ben’s need to beat people who were conceding. When he was younger you'd seen Ben get in a fight before, but those few times he hadn't continued to beat the other person when they gave up. The smell of whiskey and reefer floats off his clothes and you wonder how much he’s had to drink. Ben had two moods when he was drunk angry or clingy, and right now the anger was winning. You could hear the mad pump of his blood through his body and you wonder what else he might have taken today.

Because whiskey and reefer isn't enough? If he wasn't so damn indestructible he'd probably be dead from overdose.

Ben’s lip is curled back in a sneer, eyes flashing from where Noir lays on the ground then back to you. You know that he's ten seconds away from ripping Noir in half, and that's why you don't move. Noir didn't deserve that.

The way Ben's eyes burn through the space between you is hauntingly familiar as the memory of the night you hid Ben from his father settled over your mind. You fight the shudder at the comparison.

Ben wasn’t anything like his father. The thought is immediate, but then the memory of the past forty years begins to settle over your mind. Or maybe he was.

“Fucking pussy. Having a woman stand up for you.” Ben snaps at Noir.

Ben leans around you to spit at him, then raises his gaze back to you one more time before he stomps off, slamming the door of the gym so hard that it breaks the glass.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Everyone on Payback was watching you like you were crazy and you partly were. Getting in between Ben and someone else was beyond stupid. It wasn’t the first time, but you knew that you were the only person that could do it. If Countess or Gunpowder had stepped in Ben would not have relented. It had to be you. It always had to be you.

And you hated the weight of that burden on your shoulders.

You turn towards Noir, holding out a hand to help him up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He sighs taking it . “You didn’t have to do that.”

“He’s just being… well. Him.” You mutter.

You hated that this was the new harsh reality, the new Ben that was born when he took the serum and became America’s First Superhero.

“It was incredibly stupid.” Countess sniffs from where she stands with the TNT Twins. Gunpowder is leaning back against the outer ring with Mindstorm who stares unblinkingly at you.

“Well, guess I took a page out of your book then.” You say, narrowing your eyes at her.

You couldn’t stand her. Ever since she joined Payback all she’d done was try to catch Ben’s eye and get between the two of you, but he never gave her the time of day. She had quickly won the favor of everyone else on Payback, which only made you even more angry because it always seemed like you were the odd one out wherever you went.

Countess only sneers back in response, flipping her red hair over her shoulders. Despite Ben's exit the tension in the room is almost choking. Your so-called team was watching you with unreadable expressions and you suddenly got the impression that you were trespassing or interrupting. It had happened before, when you came to a training session early and you walked in on the rest of the team, sans Ben, talking in hushed tones and they immediately broke apart when you appeared.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that despite the fact you stood between Ben and Noir, the rest of the team still didn’t like having you there. Probably because they associated you with Ben. It made you uneasy.

Because despite Stan’s efforts to keep you all together Ben's continuous outbursts drove you all further and further apart. And you worried what would happen the day when the shoe finally dropped.

*************************************

One look at the clock on your wall showed that it was almost one in the morning, but you weren't tired. All you could think about is what almost happened to Noir. It wasn't that you particularly liked anyone on Payback other than Ben, honestly the whole superhero thing was getting tedious and you had considered more than once getting out.

But you couldn't. Sometimes you felt responsible for Ben, like you were the only thing keeping him on the straight and narrow. Of course every single damn day that road was getting narrower and narrower and now it was more like a balance beam than a two way street.

Ben's new outlook on life that revolved around drugs, women, more drugs, and more women didn't make it easier. 

You frown at your sketchpad remembering when Ben founded Herogasm. You'd gone the first time, regretted walking through the door, stayed ten minutes, and then left.

Sex without feelings never appealed to you, but that wasn't why you left, it was watching Ben with other women that hurt you. You could barely get through it when he mentioned something in passing, but watching him there with them made you uncontrollably angry and not to mention frustrated. You didn't understand him, couldn't understand why Ben was different around you. Didn't know why whenever you were alone he would give you hope, just to take it all away again.

How could so much change? How could everything go to shit so quickly?

You think of all the years that followed the night that Ben asked you to come with him, how you thought that Ben was telling you that he loved you in his own way. But he didn’t. You were realizing that now, as painful as it was to admit to yourself, Ben only saw you as a friend, would only ever see you as a friend.

When you decided to come with him you thought that the change would be your friendship into something else, but it never came, the only thing that changed was Ben.

A loud banging at your door makes your entire apartment shudder and pulls you out of your memories of the past.

There's only one person who can do that.

Your home was a small two-bedroom apartment in New York City, but you loved it. It was quaint and comfortable and each time you came home you felt relaxed because you were able to shut out the life you lived everyday. The small kitchen was barely big enough for two people to stand in, but it made it more intimate and cozy. The living room had a soft leather couch, but no tv despite Ben’s complaints that you should get one. He hated that you couldn’t watch his films when he came over. You liked listening to music more anyway. Your collection of vinyl lined the living room wall in clean bookcases next to a small record player. The spare bedroom served as your studio, not that you were trying to sell your art, but because you needed a place to exist where you weren't a supe and where you weren't in love with Ben. There were stacks of sketchbooks in the studio closet from when you were a child, but you couldn't bear to get rid of them. Sometimes you imagined living here with Ben, cooking in the small kitchen while he read the newspaper, lounging on the couch and listening to music together, and falling asleep on his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around you.

You sigh, pushing away the warmth of the thought, and wave your hand to telekinetically unlock the front door behind you. The familiar purple glow from your abilities fills the apartment. Ben had a key, but you figured he just wanted to make an entrance.

Always the drama queen.

“Got anything to drink?” He asks as he enters the living room.

You glance over the back of the couch to look at him. He's more casually dressed now, wearing a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt the same color of his suit.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop by, see if you’re still pissed.”

“As I recall it was you that was pissed.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Only because you were getting in my way Sweetheart” The way he says your nickname is harsh and mocking, so different than the way the old Ben used to say it. When it sounded genuine, caring, almost special.

“Because you were about to rip Noir apart!” You gesture with the pencil in your hand, snapping your sketchpad shut.

“That pussy deserved it. Thinking he was better than me. I’m fucking Soldier Boy and he’s nothing more than a-“ Ben scoffs rolling his eyes.

“Ben I can’t do this if you’re gonna be like this right now.”  You interrupt pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingertips, still annoyed from earlier. You hated that he did that, when he made you feel like his babysitter, when he made you feel like you had to make apologies for him.

“Like what?”

“High, drunk, acting crazy-“

“I’m not acting fucking crazy!” He snaps.

“Ben-“ You begin with a sigh.

“Fine.” He spits. “We don’t have to fucking talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.” You wave a hand haphazardly towards the kitchen. “There should be some whiskey in there somewhere. Though I don’t think you need anything else to drink.” Your nose wrinkles as you inhale, the smell of stale alcohol wafting back, followed by the unmistakable scent of perfume and sweat.

The super senses really sucked sometimes. Smelling the women that Ben had sex with was an unfortunate skill you had acquired.

“Fuck off.” He rolls his eyes, but waits for a minute eyeing you. “You’re not going to get it for me?”

You ignore his sharp tone and turn back to your sketchpad. “Nope. I don’t want to enable you.”

Ben stomps into your kitchen. It's immediately followed by the loud banging of him searching the cabinets for booze.

He should know where it is, spends enough time here.

“If you break anything, you’re going to fix it.” You shout opening your sketchbook back to the page you were on. You were drawing the Philadelphia of your youth, the familiar streets, the cars, and the women dressed in beautiful outfits.

“My hands are better suited for other things Sweetheart.” You hear him mutter under his breath and you try not to snap your pencil in half. His taunt made you think about Herogasm and the scent of perfume on his skin, and that was the last thing you wanted to think about.

Ben comes back and slumps onto the couch beside you, a large whiskey gripped in his hand. He sighs loudly to get your attention when you don't look up from your drawing.

"Alright, what is it?” You ask continuing to draw.

"Nothing.” He grumbles drinking from his glass.

“Ben, I’ve known you for over fifty years I can tell when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Well I doubt it’s over what you said or did to Noir today. So what is it? What are you not upset about?”

"I just thought it would be different." Ben swirls the glass in his hands.

"What?"

"Being on Payback."

"What do you mean?" You continue to sketch the shape of a woman walking down the streets.

"When I first started doing all this fucking superhero shit it was different. Felt like I was promoting something, now it kinda feels like I’m just here. And no one respects me.”

“They’re not going to respect you if you keep threatening them and beating up whoever pisses you off.” You mutter.

“They might.” He snaps.

They won't.

"Well the way things are going with Russia I’m sure there will be another war." You sigh, thinking about the recent newspaper headlines. Everything was devoted to the Cold War, everyone was afraid of what Russia was doing or what they were planning. Stan Edgar and Legend were talking about some Anti-Communist campaign videos and posters that they wanted you to pose for, but you weren't sure you wanted to.

"You think so?" He sounds optimistic.

"I’m not gonna hope for one, but probably. I get it though. You’re doing all those movies and premieres and photo shoots, it doesn't feel real."

It was exactly how you felt. You felt that all this supe shit was coming to a head and what did you have to show for it? A few pictures of you holding up a car or a painted caricature of you on the side of a jet or a short film with stupid prerecorded lines that made no sense and even more ridiculous outfits that Legend tried to get you to wear. When you got the serum with Ben you thought you’d be contributing something to society, but no. It was just like when you were a child, dressed up like a China doll, made to be looked at but never used.

"I like those movies."

"I’ve noticed." You breathe remembering earlier when Ben almost killed Noir over the movie role.

Noir technically started that, but Ben just took it way too far.

"What about you?"

The question catches you off guard. “What about me?”

"You haven’t done any movies lately. Legend said that you turned down a few films." Ben takes a swig from the glass in his hand.

"Aren’t you afraid that I’ll steal some of your thunder Soldier Boy?” Your taunt. “Because I already saw what you tried to do to Noir today. And I’d rather you not beat me to a pulp-“

“You’re not like Noir. You’re different.”

“Mhmm. Sure.” You sigh rolling your eyes at him.

Ben sits there for a minute. You can feel his gaze on you. “I’d never hurt you y/n.”

The softer cadence of his voice makes you pause your pencil against the page. You knew it was true. Even when Ben was pissed off it was the line he never crossed. Ben never touched you when he was angry, but it never made it any easier to deal with him.

“Hey.” Ben whispers to get your attention, but you continue to look down at your paper. “Look at me.” His thumb comes under you chin to lift your eyes to his.

“You know that right?” Ben’s gaze is soft, you hadn’t expected it to be given the way he entered you apartment and his sullen mood. “You know that I’d never hurt you?”

The look in his eyes makes your throat tight, makes you see the Ben you used to know, who promised to look out for you and who promised to be strong for the both of you. And it hurts more than you thought it would, because you weren't sure that boy was still there.

“Yeah. I know.” You nod, but you don’t smile. You knew it was what he wanted to hear. “You’ve been talking to Legend about me?” You say to make the warm feeling of his touch fade.

He shrugs satisfied with your response, the softness fading from his eyes as he drops his hand. “I was worried.”

You fold your legs up under you. “I don’t know, I didn't love any of the scripts. And I’ve been thinking about getting out. I’ve been doing this so long-"

It was the first time you'd said it aloud to Ben. You'd mentioned it once to Legend and then made sure he never said anything about it. You weren't sure how Ben would react to you leaving.

"What?" Ben's eyes widen in surprise.

"Come on Ben, you’re telling me that you don’t want to have a normal life? Meet someone, have some kids, settle down? We’ve been doing this shit for years. Doesn’t get any easier."

"Sometimes.” He smirks at you. “So who’s the guy?”

“What?” You raise your eyebrows in confusion.

“The guy you’re going to settle down with.”

“What makes you assume that I’ve met him?”

“I mean, I’ve never seen you with anyone. And I’ve never walked in on you fucking anyone. Plus, you never come to Herogasm-“ Ben pauses. “It’s not Noir is it? Is that why you were protecting him today?”

“No.” You scoff, shading the side of a building to avoid his gaze, because how do you tell him that you met the only person you’d ever wanted when you were 8 years old?

“Good.” Ben drinks from his glass. “I do think about it sometimes.” He says it quietly.

“Huh?”

“The house, having a few rugrats.” He shrugs. “Might be nice.”

“Yeah.” Your throat is tight imagining Ben with someone else like Countess, sitting at his wedding, watching him say those vows to someone else. You didn't think you'd be able to just sit there if it came to that.

“How about you and I get married?” He says it nonchalantly.

You roll your eyes. You knew he didn’t mean it. He was just saying it to joke with you like always. Ben never saw you that way, you were realizing that more and more each day, even though it hurt to think it.

“We’d kill each other before we say I do.” You quip staring down at the page.

“Maybe. But really, we’ve known each other long enough-“

“That’s not a reason to get married. Plus, we both know that you’re not a one woman kind of guy and if you're actually being serious about this it would mean that you would have to change-“

You think about it. If Ben actually did want to commit, could he do it? His wandering eyes and hands would drive you crazy if he finally did want to start a relationship. You definitely did not want an open relationship. You wanted Ben to be wholly yours as much as you would be his, because you knew that if you devoted yourself to Ben, he would probably cheat, but then be furious if you spent any amount of time with someone else. You remembered all the ways he acted around Howard. Ben was crazy around him, and you and Ben hadn’t been together.

Imagine what he would do to someone else if we were.

“I can be a one woman kind of guy-“ Ben scoffs. “I can do anything.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” You mutter, but you know he can hear you.

Ben puts down his glass on your coffee table before his hand lays on top of yours against the sketchpad in you lap.

“Y/n.” He whispers. You can smell the whiskey on his breath, but you don’t look up at him, you can’t. Because you know as soon as you look into his eyes you’ll do whatever he wants.

But you didn’t want to be his consolation prize. You didn’t want Ben to marry you because he was bored, drunk, and he thought he might as well marry you. You wanted Ben to marry you because he was 100% head over heels for you as much as you were for him.

He tilts your chin upwards to look at him. Electricity thrums in your veins when you lock eyes, the look in his gaze is open, gentle, almost tender.

It reminds you of the boy you used to know. Lately you hadn’t seen him. If you were being honest, you hadn’t seen him much since the night he came to ask you to come with him, before the serum, when you thought he finally realized that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

The only time you’d see the real Ben was when it was just the two of you, not the angry, macho, vengeful fighter for justice that he put on whenever he was in front of the team or in front of the cameras. You didn’t understand that. He said that showing emotions made him less of a man, but he never seemed to have a problem being different when it was just the two of you.

You hated that. In those quiet moments you felt your heart clench tight in your chest because each time you thought that he would finally admit that he loved you, that after all these years you were the one.

But he never did.

“I could change.” Ben whispers. “I could be with one woman.” 

“Ben.” You take in a deep breath to clear your head, fighting the ball of emotion that has begun to burn at the back of your throat. “You’re drunk.” You breathe.

He blinks a few times as if he can’t comprehend what you're saying.

“You always get like this when you’re drunk. You know?” You pull back from where his hand rests on your chin.  “But you can stay if you want. There’s some pizza in the fridge and I’m gonna take a shower and go to bed.” You stand and step around him, the urge to cry building in your chest.

“Okay.” Ben whispers to the air, because you're already gone, fleeing down the hallway before he can see you cry.

When you step into the shower you allow yourself to break. The soft sobs drowned out by the sound of running water. You wished you could move past this, all of this and more importantly you wished that you hadn’t fallen in love with him. 

Memories of the past lodge themselves in the back of your throat. You remember the day he begged you to come with him to get the Compound V injection, when you left your life behind and chose him. You thought that was his way of saying he loved you, that he couldn’t live without you. You were wrong. It hurt to admit that, but you were wrong. Ben didn’t try to build on the relationship you had, he kept it the same, the friendly banter, the hugs, hanging around with you whenever he couldn’t stand to be alone. He still slept over, but that’s all that happened. You thought that day meant something, that it was the beginning of something, some wonderful romanticized future filled with warmth and love.

You never thought it would be like this.

You didn’t regret going with him often, but on nights like this when it was late and Ben was drunk and he acted differently you did. Because it made you think that there was a chance of a future with him, but then when he woke up the next day sober, it started all over again with him being short tempered and a dick to everyone who was around him.

It was exhausting. And you didn’t know how much more of it you could take.

The only thing you regretted about the serum was that it made you immortal, invulnerable, and that meant whoever you decided to make a life with would die. There was only a handful of others like you and you hadn’t liked any of them except Ben. You wondered if this was your penance for saying no to Howard, your mother's last laugh when she said that Ben would never choose you and now you had to go on like this forever.

You remember the fear that you would be trapped in a marriage with Howard, you never thought that you'd feel trapped with Ben.

But now…

When you walk back into your bedroom, Ben’s already in your bed, laying on his back, smoking a blunt and looking at the ceiling. He's wearing a pair of sweatpants, that you bought him forever ago so he didn't have to sleep in his jeans, and the same t-shirt as before.

“What did I say about smoking those in here?” You sigh, getting into bed beside him, but being careful as to not touch even though it’s all you want.

“It’s a free country doll.” Ben mutters, but he puts it out in the ashtray that you left for him on the bedside table. Because you knew that he would continue to do it even when you told him not to.

The amount of times he ended up here at night always surprised you. Ben might have been bed hopping, snorting, and drinking himself into a stupor but the amount of times you woke up with him in bed next to you was astounding. He’d let himself in with the key you made him for emergencies while you were asleep. It was almost like he didn’t sleep in his apartment anymore and you hated how much you depended on him being there in the morning when you woke up. But the truth was, Ben was all you had, and the thought of losing him scared you. Which meant you continued to put up with the man he became, trying to hold tight to the image of the boy he used to be.

You lay on your back beside him, looking up at the ceiling. The inch of space between your bodies is almost too obvious. “I’m going to go to Philadelphia for a few days.” You breathe.

“Why?”

“My brother isn’t doing too well. His son called.” You say, your throat thick. “He said he thinks that it’s time.”

Your parents had passed a few years ago and Ben had gone to the funerals with you. When Ben’s father had passed, he hadn’t gone to the funeral, he’d drowned himself in the 21st annual Herogasm. And after he showed up on your doorstep smelling like sweat, drugs, booze, and cheap perfume. You’d made him take a shower before getting into bed. The next morning you had woken up in his arms, but more surprising was the fact that he had woken up before you and hadn't pushed you away, in fact he had held you closer to him. You figured that he needed someone there with him. His father had done and said horrible things to Ben, and you kept him company if that’s what he wanted, but couldn’t admit it.

“I’m sorry.” His hand finds yours on the bed. The gesture surprises you.

“Yeah. But that’s the way it is now, I guess.” You whisper, squeezing it.

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t age. Everyone else does. Means that we’ll always just see everyone else go.”

“But not us.” Ben says it like he’s trying to cheer you up.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

Does that mean it’s always going to be like this? Me waiting for him to come here after a 24 hour non stop orgy or after he’s had one two many? Just because he can’t stand the thought of being alone?

You didn’t want that future. You knew that he wanted to be there with you, but it wasn’t enough and it wasn’t the same thing you wanted.

Maybe getting out of this would be good. Put some distance between me and him, let me try to find me again.

Ben is quiet for a minute, the only sound you hear is the thrum of the blood in his veins and his heart steadily pumping it.

“Do you want me to come?” He says it slowly, his thumb rubs against the back of your hand in a soothing motion. 

The question breaks something inside of you, because you wanted nothing more than to have him there with you, but you didn’t want the version of Ben who was Soldier Boy, the loud, angry, short tempered version who was always high or drunk. The one that you felt that you needed to apologize for.

“Nah. It’ll be okay. I’ll get to see my great nephew. He’s supposed to be walking now.” You try to force cheeriness into your tone, but it doesn’t stick.

“Okay.”

You can’t help but wonder if Ben is hurt by your rejection. You did not often say no to him.

He doesn’t let go of your hand though, in fact he brings it up against his chest while he looks at the ceiling.

"Do you regret it?” Ben says in almost a whisper

"Hmm?”

“Coming with me.”

You pause for a second and think about lying, but finally settle on the truth. “Sometimes."

"Why?” Ben's voice rumbles against where your hand lays against his chest, and for a second you think he sounds almost pained.

"We’ve changed so much than who we were back then. Sometimes I don’t recognize myself.”

You didn’t want to say that it was him you didn’t recognize. Or that it always felt that you were running after the boy he used to be. The one that made you feel safe, comforted, made it feel like home.

"I don’t think change is a bad thing."

Of course you don't.

"It is if it’s in the wrong direction.” You whisper, but know he can hear you.

“So that’s why you want out? Because you don’t recognize yourself? Seems like a shitty reason."

“I just think it might be nice to try something new. I’ve been doing this for such a long time-“

“That’s why the films would be a good idea. If you want I can talk to the director about you being a co-star in the one we start filming next week. He won't say no to me-“ It was the closest you’d ever heard him come to pleading, besides the night he asked you to come with him to get the serum.

But why? Was it his way of keeping me with him? Was it because he didn’t want me to leave because he wanted me here? Or was it because he just wanted someone there to sit with when the silence was too much? The silence that seems to follow when he's not with me.

“Ben I’m okay. It’s okay I just want something different.”

“Like what?” You hand is still clutched in his where it rests over his chest and you can't help but wonder why. It was surprising. Sure Ben tolerated the occasional hug, but holding your hand for this long was unusual. You attributed it to the booze. When Ben got drunk he tended to be more clingy, he never admitted that, but you saw it.

“I don’t know. I just want a family again-“

“You have a family. You said you’re going to see your great nephew-" Ben says it like he doesn't want you to leave and it breaks something inside you.

How can he not admit that he cares about me? That he loves me? He has to after all these years doesn't he?

“I know. I mean I want a family. Someone to come home to every night, someone I love, someone who loves me-“ You fight to keep the frustrated tears from falling. The dream of him and you inhabiting your apartment together washes back over your mind in shades of gray. You wanted that so badly.

“Oh.”

“You don’t want that?” It’s taking everything for you not to tell Ben that you want it to be him, that you always wanted it to be him.

“Maybe.”

The silence grows between the two of you as you lay there and Ben still hasn't let go of your hand.

“Did you want to marry him?” He says after a few minutes.

“What?” You look at him confused. Ben isn't looking at the ceiling like you thought, he's looking at you. He almost looks, sorry. And you wonder again how much he's had to drink.

“That asshole." He clarifies.

"Howard?"

"Yeah."

“It’s been 40 years-“ You sigh as if it doesn’t matter. But it does. You chose Ben that night and you thought that him asking you to come with him meant that he was choosing you as well.

“Come on.” Ben squeezes the hand that rests against his chest.

“Why does it matter?"

“Because you’re saying you wanted a family. Someone to come home to and that pussy would have given it to you.”

You pause for a second trying to read his expression. “I like the idea of marriage. Of saying those vows to someone else.” You say slowly. “But I didn’t want to say them to Howard.” You don’t say that you wanted to say them to Ben, don’t say that the night he told you not to marry Howard you thought he was trying to tell you that he wanted to marry you instead.

“So you want to say them to someone?”

“Yeah. One day.” You frown, turning back to look at the ceiling. “You never want to say them to someone?”

Ben doesn’t answer immediately. “Maybe.”

Probably Liberty.

You sigh to yourself thinking about one of your least favorite supes that you’d come across. She wasn’t terrible, just pushy and into supes being united together. You also didn’t like that she felt that supes deserved to be worshiped, that supes were gods, but you knew you weren't. The powers were not random, the gifts were not given by God, they were given by the devil and all those deals came with a price. Even if you tired to walk away, you wondered if Vought would let you go. You also hated how much time Ben spent with her.

The thought of her leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and despite how good it feels, you pull your hand free from Ben's grasp  and turn your back to him, cuddling into your pillow. Your grip is so tight on fluffy material you wonder how it hasn't ripped, but you need to stop talking to him. Talking to him when he was like this made it harder and right now it was taking everything not to cry again.

And you were just so tired of everything. You wondered if one day it would be different.

“Goodnight Ben.” You whisper.

“Goodnight.”

And just as you drift into a dreamless sleep, you think you feel him put his arm around your waist and pull your back into his chest, but when you wake up the next day you forget and Ben is gone.

*************************************************

n/a: Yeah, this chapter is really sad. And I wish that I could say it gets better, but honestly, it's gonna get a lot worse before it gets better. 😭😭😭

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know :)

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[augustjustice]

Okay, but, imagine.

The encounter between Jason and his lackeys and Eddie at Reefer Rick’s unfolds a bit differently. They catch up to him before Vecna captures Patrick in the boat, get a few pointed blows in until Eddie manages to escape, bloody and bruised by the time he launches the boat into the water.

He still gets away in the chaos following Patrick’s death, the image playing over and over again in his mind as he disappears into the woods.

Eddie is wandering, disoriented, his body sore. He knows, with the way his side aches, his face stings under the dried blood, that he can’t wait til morning. He needs help now.

The problem is, half a year of friendship through Hellfire with Dustin and Mike and Lucas hasn’t exactly afforded the opportunity for any house calls. He doesn’t know where they live beyond a rough idea, and he can’t exactly go around knocking on random doors when he’s a wanted man. And Buckley’s out, too, of course.

Somehow, his feet take him to Loch Nora. He’d been the dealer at enough of the infamous Harrington house parties of yesteryear that he knows exactly where he’s going.

Eddie presses the doorbell, then pounds against the flat surface a couple of times for extra measure, hoping the sound indicates urgency. He’s just about to knock again when the door swings open to reveal Steve Harrington on the other side, brow furrowing as soon as he catches sight of who it is.

“I didn’t know where else to go, man,” Eddie confesses, trembling as he tries to keep holding himself upright.

They stand there in silence for a long enough beat, he begins to wonder if he’s made a mistake. Sure, Dustin sings his praises, and he’s part of the little monster-hunting trope, but how much does he really know about Hawkins High’s fallen king, anyway? 

But then Steve reaches out and cups Eddie’s jaw tenderly, turning his head from side to side to examine the damage. His teeth clench, expression hardening. There’s a sudden fiery ferocity flashing in his eyes that Eddie has never seen before.

“Who did this to you?” Steve demands.

[powderblueblood]

YES, NURSE RATCHED - a hellfire & ice retelling of chapter eight's most pivotal moment, from eddie's pov

a special treat for my love @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth eddie munson x f!reader, reader is nicknamed lacy, reader's last name is also mentioned, this is lore-filled and handsy so if that's not your thing keep it truckin, minors dni i do not like you go away warning for strong language, smut inthe form of public fingeringgggg, drug usage, extremely bad parenting (al munson klaxon), evoking the feeling of a comedown, billy hargrove gets his shit rocked, excuse all typos it's redacted o'clock and i'm a little buzzed word count: 2.6k

The first thing you should know about the following occurrences is that they are preluded by a whole lot of next thing Eddie knows. Things snapping his attention to the left, to the right, knocking him over the head, rearing up on him with little to no warning.

Number one? His dad showing up at Reefer Rick’s, eyes bloodshot and sleep deprived and frantic, putting on a pantomime of being so psyched to see his boy! Rick snapping to attention and falling into his role of affable associate of Munson Senior immediately, despite the apology he’d tried to press against Eddie right when Al crunched the gravel of his driveway. What followed was a bender that Eddie couldn’t help but give into. Al has that effect on people, even him, even Eddie in his angry, angsty resoluteness that he should know better. 

You try knowing better when you're all bewitched, bothered and bewildered and shit.

Cue cut lines and records blaring until daylight broke over Lover's Lake– then Eddie, rising at noon but barely landed from his previous (ill-advised and bad-parentally-supervised) high, got it in his head that he ought to show up for school. At least for a little bit. 

Because they’d tossed your last name around a little last night, Al and Rick. Doevski this, Doevski that, in weird, vague terms that Eddie didn’t all the way understand. And the more weed he smoked and the more Jim Beam that got passed around, the less he remembered.

Which, dumb, right?

You’d tell him that was dumb.

You’d tell him he should have stayed sharp, listened up, gathered information.

He passed out on Rick’s sagging couch, mind searing with nothing but thoughts of you nagging him for intel.

Eddie woke up cotton-mouthed with your name on his lips. 

He needed to see you.

To catch one of your avoidant, barely-there glances as you flit through the hallway or maybe even spy you smoking a cigarette on the outdoor bleachers, reading in silence with Ronnie or Wheeler.

He’d think of what to say to you in the moment; probably spurned on by the sneer you’d give him– which he’d totally have earned, for having the nerve to ignore you for so long. 

Forgive me, he'd say, hands held aloft in Christlike composure, I just couldn't look you in the eye knowing you were getting willingly boinked by some Ivy League sweater monkey.

And then you'd have to admit your little bullshit college boyfriend wasn't Ivy League, and he'd prod you with that for a while, and things would eventually ebb back to whatever shade of normal you two were pretending to be. So? Okay!

But.

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s peeling into the parking lot and the first thing that he sees, bada bing, is you. All however many feet of you, steel true and planted on the hood of Billy Hargrove’s fucking Camaro, wielding a baseball bat like a sword.  

Eddie’s heart stops for the full entirety of a what fresh hell is this filter-focused second before he skids the van to a halt and launches himself from it. 

He advances this helluva scene just in time to hear you holler out, right in front of God and everyone,

“One thing you can say for Eddie Munson, is at least the motherfucker can get hard!” 

Eddie’s tread stutters and he wonders if this is what people mean when they use the expression taken out at the knees. Can he get a fucking encore, please? 

But then there’s the issue of the rabies-ridden Hargrove, the kid who’s snorted so much of Eddie’s dubiously cut supply that it’s no wonder that word has gotten around that he can’t keep his johnson rigid. There’s a thread dangling somewhere that makes Eddie wonder how familiar you are with that concept but. Alas. Digression. 

Hargrove calls you a cunt, and Eddie’s vision is replaced with a swathe of red. 

How ‘bout you try playing it cool, hearing someone talk to your girl like that, after a night of fun family drug-taking? 

Wait. His what? Hold on--

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s side-swiping Hargrove like a dirty bumper car, yak yaks something kind of funny (he hopes) and does not turn to look at you standing backlit like a holy fucking statue. Because he knows you’ll look beautiful up there, white hot with rage, holding a weapon poised for minor automotive destruction. He can’t handle beauty, not right now. Because of that thing from before with his knees. 

“...now her snooty ass is spreading it for half of Hawkins! Desperate! Stringin’ you along like the dumb piece of shortbus shit you a–”

It’s impossible to say whose hair trigger that tugged first, yours or Eddie’s. That’s like chicken vs egg. That’s like Han vs Greedo. That’s like, irrelevant. 

That baseball bat clatters to the pavement, a hearty overture to Eddie’s surge of empowerment, of rage, of insisting that she isn’t, I’m not, she isn’t, I’m not, nobody talks about her like that–

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s sitting beside you. Outside the principal’s office. Hand split open and aching, nose backed up and a little bleeding, coming down like the fucking Hindenberg. Reckoning with the fact that he wouldn’t need to be a little morning-after zipped on coke to throw a punch for you, if it came down to it. If it came down to it, he would have tried caving in Billy Hargrove’s other eye socket. He would have made him look like the Elephant Man if you needed him to. 

He liked that Eraserhead movie you made him watch. 

“He needs an ice pack…”

The soft mumble from you makes Eddie take this breath that makes his chest feel like it might concave. You, you. Reckless, unbuttoned, unlaced, off-kilter you, that still had time to snap at him after he’d tried to freeze you out, that still had eyes that asked him did it hurt? 

Eddie eavesdrops on as much of your grilling with Higgins and the hot guidance counsellor as his damaged eardrums will allow. Temporary insanity. Disgusting prank. He wonders what that’s about… and again, didn’t even think to question what brought you onto the hood of Hargrove’s car. He just saw you. He just acted.

He just keeps doing that. 

And then he hears. College. Application deadlines are within touching distance. 

“I can turn this around.”

Of course. Eddie hadn’t even thought about that, because he’s him. And it was something you were probably worrying yourself sick over, because you’re you– you wanted out of here. To get up, go, be someone great.

“New York, ideally,” you’d said to him once, tightrope walking across the broken bleachers outside; you’d been waiting around for him to give you a ride home, but he had a deal to make first. You were weirdly patient, weirdly pensive that day. “Someplace I can go and burrow in and absorb everything and grow out of a crack in the sidewalk, new.” 

Eddie’d held your hand, helping you step over a gap in the bench, “Not taking Manhattan by storm? Hurricane Lacy?” 

You–and he remembered this–had held onto his hand for a few more minutes, a cigarette dwindling in the other. Your fingers were cold; they clutched at his a little tighter when you spoke again. 

“No. Not Manhattan, not midtown, not big business. I have precipitated a change in my weathervane.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means that someone taught me the difference between being important and being significant.” 

Back in the room. Eddie drawls out some stupid crack to Higgins, who he’s still supplying with enough benzos to take out Jonestown a second time, which is the only reason he hasn’t been booted out of Hawkins High for absolute and final good. And then you’re alone again, the two of you. Together. 

“Wanna get out of here?”

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s spending the last of his energy like it’s burning a hole in his pocket, horsing around on the nurse’s saddle stool while you rifle through her office. You are all edgy and commanding because you have no idea how to say sorry you got wailed on by Hargrove for me.

Good. He likes you better like this, at least for right now. Likes to watch you attempt to pirouette on the razor’s edge of your relationship to one another, mostly because your attempt is more graceful and easier to watch than his is. And he likes to watch you. Watch you do anything, really. 

Watch you snap at him to get on the bed. Fuck. 

Watch you tear and dab at his busted knuckles. Fuckfuck. 

Watch you talk about Cat People and press his hand to his chest and tell him he’s injured and wrong and watch you watch searing, singing alcohol on his split lip dry up. Eddie watches your eyes brighten and darken with curious affection, like those twinkle lights that fade in and out, steady as breathing. His breathing is anything but steady. His knees have come apart, letting you stand between them.

You dab and he lets this broken sound loose from him, because the proximity of your body to his feels like a fresh fucking spring breeze and god, god, the way you’re touching him with such gentle, measured movements, like you’ve choreographed every one–

You’re so exact. You’re so organized. He wants to unexact you.

Eddie uses his good hand, not that either of them are really any good, and presses as much of you into him as he can. The flush of your front, the flush of your mouth, he even has to stop those shorn denim-sheathed legs of his from wrapping around your hips. Eddie’s grip, it travels, hitching tweed up the curve of your ass. 

You don’t push him away like he figured you might, you don’t indignantly demand what is going on?! You don’t. You weave your hand up the line of his thigh, to the hard edge of his crotch where he is straining, a rigidity that’s been building since you went all Nurse Ratched on him. 

A rigidity that’s hard to keep down around you, badum-tsssss. 

Fuck.

Eddie almost knocks the word loose with a low groan that’s pressed into the supple flesh of your cheek, your lovely blushing fucking cheek, a cheek he goes to kiss or bite or something but misses by a hair because you’re straining your neck back. To look at him. Not soberly, he hopes. 

Someone down there is wishing him death by dick.

Not the wettest, wildest, filthiest dreams that he’s had about you (and categorically, there have been many) could have prepared Eddie Munson from the earth-shattering consequences of this tiny gesture. Your tongue, perfect and pink, darts to his lip, stinging and sore and comes away with the tiniest drop of ruby-red blood sitting on its tip. 

And you suck his bottom lip between yours, eyes fluttering closed.

Eddie’s cock jumps as his heart does, not a second out of time, as you clamber up, into his lap– so completely un-Lacylike, so totally… unexact. How, in all the vastness of Heaven and earth and Middle Earth and Hell and the Bookstore and the closet and his bedroom and the van could he be so fucking stupid?

“Just friends, right?” Eddie is deaf to how pained it comes out sounding.

His good hand travels. He finds your thighs, the softness there giving way to easy indents for his fingers and he knows, he knows that this is where his hands should be–unless, higher could be good? Higher, high up past those offending, incriminating lace top stockings that drilled through Eddie’s mind like an ice pick, giving him whatever the opposite of a lobotomy is. Haunting him with a fervour, begging him to snap them, but there’s no fucking time for that, god it hurts but there’s no fucking time for that because you. Two. Are. In. The fucking. Nurse’s. Office. 

But the world has ceased turning. 

Eddie’s mouth opens in a silent attempt at a moan as his fingers push past to the beating, radiating core of you that the throbbing, radiating core of him longs for. 

You’re so wet, and soft and lush and it rings through is head like a fucking hallelujah, you’re wet, you’re wet for him.

More than anything, he needs your encouragement–he needs to know that you want him to keep going. That you want him, that you want him, that–

You nod, frantic and undone, and Eddie kisses you for it just before he realizes he has no idea what he’s doing. But nothing in his body tells him to zoom out–in fact, the only thing he wants is more in. More you, more of you wrapped around him. He moves his hands with a clumsiness usually uncharacteristic of him, fucking guitar guy, fucking painting miniatures and shit guy. But it works, according to you and the way you keen against him with your beautiful, spit-shining lips parted and pulling against his. 

These little noises, chirps and swallowed moans of yours– it’s like music. He wants to choke on them.

Eddie’s voice kind of cracks open again, letting a little air and a touch of begging out. He strains, pained, cock aching against the hitch of denim. “Does he do this? Does anyone do this for you, Lacy?”

Because you’re lonely, and Eddie knows that, with his fingers stroking you deep. You’re lonely, or would be, were it not for him. And it feels like now, in the heady swirl of these few moments that are stretched into an infinity, that he’s using it against you, but he’s not. He should be the one doing this for you, he should be the one making you feel this way, making you tremble even as he clumsily thumbs at your clit, because he thinks knows you and he thinks you want it unmeasured and unshackled and washing over you in a wave of sheer blind devotion and that’s why his tongue is all over your neck. 

That’s why his knuckles are split. 

That’s why there’s no malice in Eddie’s voice when he croaks, “Just friends? Lacy?” as you rock and spasm, hands clutching him around the shoulder and whimpers barely deadened against his lips. He can feel the texture of your pinched brow against his own. 

He wants to clutch you as close as he possibly can, but he’s got one good arm and it’s between your legs.

Between your legs. Jesus fucking Christ. 

Sobriety hits like a tidal wave as your breath returns to its normal rhythm; Eddie’s doesn’t quite have the same rebound. He’s still huffing a little, out of exertion or out of nerves, as he slips his hand out from under you, brushing what was off on his jeans. A small patch of his own bodily fluid collected there too, making sure he’s wearing the both of you like Hester Prynne’s scarlet letter as he walks around for the rest of the day. 

Eddie, throat starting to tighten up, pulls you in for one kiss, to give you one last taste of where he’d been split open for you. Melodrama dances around it; shades of we shouldn’t have, but we did, but we can’t, but now I have to fucking live with the fact I cracked open this Pandora’s box and I’m sorry. 

Or something to that effect. 

And you see right through him, because you always do. Hair in a muss, lips flushed, adjusting your skirt, re-exacting yourself, you clean up any evidence that this had ever happened. At least, on a surface level. 

Eddie dares to look at you once more, and you dare to look back at him. And thank god he’s sitting down, because that look shoots him right through the fucking aorta. You, wide-eyed and small-looking, pupils darting and unsure, are asking him why. Pleading with him, why. Why do this. Why now. Why at all, ever, why did you have to. Even though you know. 

“I–”

“No, I know. I know. I certainly know.”

Because you’re Lacy. You know everything. 

Eddie does think about going after you for a second, after your curt nod and dash through the door but he knows that it’s a zero-sum game. He has nothing good to say. It’s not even you that’s rendered him speechless– funny thing, you usually do the opposite. You always give him something to say. He just has nothing good to say. Nothing worthy of you. 

So he sits there, on the examination table, waiting for the mythical Nurse Lydia to tend to his wounds. 

First he’ll will himself soft, then he’ll will himself sane. 

Famous last words.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Love, and Other Drugs

An Eddie Munson x Female Reader fic

Masterlist

A/N: Boy, I'm excited for this one. Dedicated to @pluvialpoet and a special shout out to her for making that very, very pretty picture above ❤❤

Synopsis: You're curious about getting high.

Warnings: (18+) Recreational drug use (weed), Smut, both characters are over 18, kissing, spit play, choking, clothes ripping, Perv!Eddie, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, boob play, slight panty kink, one single mention of anal play.

You were nervous. Pacing at the door with short strides, waiting and waiting and waiting.

Where was he? Why was he taking so long? Should you call? What if he'd already left home?

You sigh, trying to figure out why you were agonising so much about this.

.

Getting high had been your idea.

You were curious as to why your ex-boyfriend had called it the 'Devil's Lettuce,' and why everyone in Hawkins despised Eddie Munson.

Eddie had been a distant friend at first, but you became much more closer after your split from Jason Carver. Mostly, it had started as a way to piss Jason off, but after actually attending one of Eddie's gigs, you realised that you genuinely enjoyed his company. You hung out with him more now, not for the shock value, but for him.

Eddie...well, Eddie loved that he could piss the head jock off and hang out with his long-time crush all at once. It didn't matter that you were using him to make Jason jealous, as long as you came over after school sometimes and listened to records in his bed, tapping your feet to the music while he weighed out small baggies of weed.

He'd laugh at your jokes and you'd listen to him work through D&D campaigns for sessions and when you'd fallen asleep against him that one time, he'd stayed perfectly still, squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled your vanilla perfume for long minutes.

His mouth had watered when he'd felt your warm pussy against his thigh, your skirt had ridden up, and Eddie had gotten hard with the abundance of terrible thoughts.

Though you'd been close friends for a couple of months, you'd never asked to get high, and he'd never done it in front of you. It had only made you more and more curious about why people were either strongly for, or strongly against it.

.

Two days ago:

"Just let me try it once Eds! And I'll even pay for it if you want."

He laughs, leaning his head back kicking one of his booted legs onto the couch.

"I don't want to be responsible for corrupting you that badly, princess." Which was a lie. All Eddie thought about daily was corrupting you.

You let out an angry huff, not even thinking when you crawl into his lap, straddling his hips with a mean expression on your face. He lifts his head in surprise.

"I'm not a baby, Eddie, I'm a big girl, and if you don't help me, I'll go straight to Reefer Rick." You threaten.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, his expression going stern and sour.

One of his hands reaches out to grip your hip harshly. He straightens till he's at eye level with you.

"Princess," Eddie starts, vice low and haunting, "I don't want you going anywhere near Reefer Rick without me you hear?"

You pout.

"Please Eds." You hum, leaning forward a little, you can feel his erection between your thighs but you ignore it in favour of resting your head on his shoulder.

"Pleaaaaaasssseeeeee?" You beg.

Eddie lets out a swear.

"Fine-" he says, and you let out a little squeal of excitement, "But only once!" He says, cutting off your excited sounds with a single finger over your mouth.

Absentmindedly, you lick the tip of his finger and he grunts, pulling it away, biting down on his lip for a second, before recovering.

"Okay? Happy? We'll do it on Saturday so you can sleep it off."

"It makes you sleepy?" You ask in a small curious voice.

He grunts.

"Sometimes... it could... or it could make you anxious, or it could give you the giggles," he watches your eyes widen, "but don't worry, we'll start small, and I'll take good care of you. Promise."

Automatically, you lift your hand, curling your fingers into a fist and extending your pinky.

He stares at it for a moment before smiling, raising a hand to lock his ringed pinky against yours.

The sight makes you wet.

.

Your parents are out of town on Saturday, visiting a distant relative of your mother's that claims to be engaged, though you're not sure what anyone would find attractive in such a mean-spirited personality.

It means though, that instead of going over to Eddie's place, you call him early on Saturday and ask if he wants to hang out at your place instead.

"What? Don't like my bed? I swear the stains are mostly bong water." Eddie chuckles over the phone.

You loved his bed. Loved the scent of him mixed in with weed and maybe some stains that were definitely not bong water.

"Don't be sour Eddie, I live closer to the pizza place in case we get hungry."

He hums.

"Fair point. I'll see you later." He agrees before you bid him goodbye.

.

Which brings you back to the present. You, pacing back and forth in front of the door waiting for your best friend and his weed stash.

It was getting late, and you didn't know Eddie to ever be late to meet you-

You're interrupted by a knock on the door.

Finally, is what you think as you unlock the door and pull it open.

He's leaning against the doorframe with a bouquet covering the lower half of his face. You know he's got a sweet smile on his face as well.

"Princess." He says from behind the bunch of flowers.

Your stomach flips, a smile grows on your face full of pure unrestrained joy. Flowers? For you? You reach for them excitedly and instead of giving them easily to you, he tugs them back a little so that you're forced to step in close to him to grab them.

You can feel the heat of his body as you lean your side against him, holding the large bouquet of wild flowers in both hands.

"They're gorgeous, Eddie. Thank you."

You feel his hand smooth over your back.

"Picked 'em myself. Wanted to get some pretty flowers for a pretty girl."

You smile, glancing away from him, unable to meet his eyes with such a soft compliment leaving his mouth.

"Come on in." You murmur, inclining your head and stepping back to let him walk past.

He'd been to your house before, and your parents were aware of your odd friendship with Eddie, but you'd never been in your room alone with him like this before. For some reason, when you let him in, you can't help but feel a low hum of arousal as you watch him look around. You find a vase for your delicate bouquet, carefully guiding the stems in as you glance at him every now and then as he looks around your room.

Everything is flowery and pink, with white curtains to accentuate the wallpaper, and similar gauzy drapes at the corners of your four-poster bed.

"You really are a princess huh?" He says looking back at you, and you smile, looking down at your feet.

"I just like pretty things Eddie, no big deal."

.

To Eddie, it was a big deal. That he was in his longtime crushes' room, that the sheets were so soft, that the rug at the centre of the room was so fuzzy that he'd kicked his boots off at the door in fear of dirtying it.

Everywhere he looked, his corrupt thoughts filtered in, until he was almost ashamed from the sick ideas racing through his head. His cock already half-hard in his pants from the scent of your perfume so distinct in the air alone.

.

You watched him watch your things, running his fingers through the dangling necklaces and running a slow hand over the little pillows in your reading nook on the windowsill and you think that you like watching him touch your stuff and maybe you want to just let him explore the entire room with his careful fingers probing through everything, learning things about you that no one else knew, touching things that no one else but you had ever touched.

His contrasting appearance with your room made you ache all the more to find a place for him, settle him among the mauve bedsheets and watch his hair drift in every direction.

You walk to the bed, flopping down and patting the spot beside you.

Eddie hadn't wanted to assume he was welcome in your bed without permission. But as he watched your silent invitation, he finds himself shedding his leather jacket easily, dropping into the spot beside you and watching your body shake with his disruption.

He smiles when you look at him, and his joy is contagious and you break into laughter with no prompt.

He raises his eyebrows.

"Somethin' funny?"

Yeah, you think, I have Eddie Munson in my bed and I'm not fucking him.

"Nothing. Nope." You continue to giggle, rolling toward him to throw a leg over his hip. He takes a deep breath of surprise that has you drawing back a little.

Eddie catches your leg before you can drift too far away, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a small mint tin, flipping the cover open to show you three blunts rolled neatly together.

"Ready?" He asks, plucking one from the tin and replacing it back in his pocket.

He holds the rolled cigarette out for you to look at between his fingers.

"You'll share it with me?" You ask eagerly, his hand smoothing over your leg that's still propped on his hip.

He makes a small hum of agreement.

"If you don't like it, we'll stop, if you don't feel good, you gotta tell me and no one has ever died from having too much of it, so don't worry about an overdose."

Your eyes widen, looking up at his stern face. You can tell he sort of doesn't completely agree with doing this, but he's still here anyway.

"And you'll stay? The whole time?"

He smiles and nods.

"Yeah. Won't leave you. Promise."

The thought alone is enough to relax you.

"Ready." You whisper to him, and he reaches for the lighter in his front pocket.

You watch, mouth going dry as he puts the blunt against his lips, focused on lighting the other end, and taking a shallow pull to get it started. His cheeks hollow a little as he pulls, and you sigh wistfully, admiring his sex appeal.

He tilts his head up to let the smoke leave his lips and you really just want to jump his bones right there.

Instead, he extends the cigarette to you, and you hum for a second, examining it between your pinched fingers before putting it to your mouth.

Your stomach tingles with the knowledge that his lips were just on the same spot, that this is some kind of weakened equivalent to kissing and maybe you really want to feel his soft lips on yours.

You pull on the blunt slowly, being familiar with smoking normal cigarettes on occasion so you sort of know how not to choke on the thick smoke entering your lungs.

You hold it for a second before you let it out, tilting your head back, parting your lips to let the smoke escape in dancing waves before you exhale.

You don't feel much different, looking at Eddie, who's eyes are warm on you. You smile, extending it to him.

He shakes his head, gripping your wrist to guide your hand back to your mouth.

"Again." He says, and you oblige, taking another slow pull from the blunt.

Only then he pulls your hand to his face, you keep the blunt steady so that he can take a long drag.

He blows the smoke into your face and you giggle. The tension in your body slowly leaving, until you're just a boneless little girl beside him.

"I don't feel much different." You whisper to him, taking another drag.

He hums.

"Give it a chance, Princess, it's your first time."

You giggle, but the sound escalates until you're full on laughing, sucking in air on heaving breaths.

"My weed virginity." You try to explain to him, so that he understands what's so funny and he responds with laughter of his own.

It's absolutely silly, but you can't stop laughing. You pause for a second to look into his eyes and you can only laugh harder, leaning in to press your head to his shoulder.

"Oh, sweetheart, you're gone." Eddie says with a laugh and you raise your head, catching hints of his cologne mixed in with the weed in the air.

"Where've I gone?" You ask in leashed horror.

He grins, taking a pull, breathing it into your face and you smile at the warm sensation across your cheeks.

"You're in the clouds, baby."

It makes you laugh, leaning into him more, pressing your nose to his neck to breathe in his scent. You can't resist rubbing your lips against his skin. Your head really feels light, everything feels easy. Unburdened by the weight of your own thoughts, you scooch closer until your body is pressed right against his.

"I'm high?" You ask, your stomach flipping at the proximity to him.

He makes an affirmative hum.

The rolled cigarette is in his hand now, and you reach for it, grabbing his wrist to guide the smoking blunt to your mouth.

Every point of contact between you and him feels so amazing. Your head on the edge of his shoulder, his wrist in your hand, your leg, half-tossed over his hip, leaning into him with enough space between you to breathe.

Your head is hazy with unfiltered thoughts when you reach up to touch his hair.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do I want to touch you all over?"

He swallows, turning his head to look at you, his pupils blown wide.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," you sigh, sliding a finger down the tip of his nose, over his cupid's bow, down his chin and neck to the edge of his shirt, "Why does it feel so good when we touch?"

He lets out a breath of air and you smile up at him.

"It's the weed." He murmurs, "It makes you feel like that."

"No." You argue, "It's not the weed. It's you. You make me feel like this."

He takes a long drag.

"Me?" He asks, and you breathe in lungfuls of his secondhand smoke.

A smile spreads on your face.

"Yeah. You make me want it so bad. You make me so desperate for it."

"Desperate for what?"

You giggle, vision swimming for a moment before it refocuses.

"I feel like I'm floating." You whisper to him, reaching for the last of the blunt, inhaling deeply, feeling your stomach flip when Eddie leans in to pull in the smoke leaving your lips.

It's just so erotic, and you can't help letting out a little moan as you feel him so close, literally breathing in your air.

"You make me so fucking desperate too." He finally says, leaning away.

"Me?" You whisper in surprise.

He bites down on his lip nodding.

"You make me think of the worst things, you give me the nastiest thoughts all because you smile at me sometimes."

You smile at him now, feeling a little confused.

"Like what?"

Eddie swallows, you can tell he's trying not to speak.

"Tell me, Eddie, please."

.

He's never gotten high around you for a good reason. And this was it.

Eddie loses his filter when he's high, and he can't stop himself from voicing his thoughts. It's gotten him into trouble so many times and he never wanted to make things weird for you.

He lets out a long sigh.

Your eyes are wide and curious, and he can't stop those thoughts from filling his head right now.

He wants to touch you, maybe not the ways you want to touch him. Eddie wants to touch all of you, every inch. He wants to drag you into his bed sometimes, and strip you bare- just rip your clothes off- and take his time touching every inch of you. From your instep to your ankles and the back of your knees and the seam of your cunt and the soft of your tummy and he thinks about spreading your legs open and just staring at your pussy, watching your breasts move as you breathe.

But his thoughts are so filthy sometimes, they're the absolute worst when you do something small, innocent. Like straightening your necklace, or twirling a strand of your hair around your fingers when you're deep in thought and Eddie gets hard thinking about your little fingers wrapped around his cock or his cum dripping from your perfect mouth down to your pebbled nipples, rubbing his cum into your skin like it's moisturiser-

He blinks, noting the expression on your face has changed from curiosity to surprise. Your eyes are wide, your lips are parted, your breathing is shallow.

Slowly, Eddie comes to the horrific realisation- that he'd been speaking the entire time.

.

"Oh fuck Princess, I didn't even realise I was talking-" Eddie starts, drawing away from you, sitting up and coming to a stand.

You sit up too, trying to stop him.

"No, Eddie it's okay-"

He moves to stand at your window, looking out.

"No, it's not okay, I'm a fucking creep that gets hard when you touch the back of my neck and it makes me want to bury my tongue in your ass till you cry and fuck I'm so-"

You scramble off the bed, movements a little clumsy and you grab his hands.

He's panicking a little and you're trying to calm him by running your hands over his shoulders.

Truthfully you want to laugh at the absurdity, that Eddie held as much need for you as you did for him. In what world could you ever see this outcome?

"Shh, Eddie, come... sit."

You push at him till he's sitting at the foot of your bed.

"Stay there." You say, reaching into your underwear drawer and grabbing a handful of fabrics before returning to him.

"Here." You say, dropping the handful into his hands.

Eddie gulps.

"Why did you just give me a handful of your panties?"

You shrug a shoulder.

"Pick one."

"Wh-what?"

"To keep. Pick one."

"I'm not following."

You blink at him, your eyebrows drawing together.

"I just thought you'd like to have one."

Eddie breathes, looking right at you.

"Princess- I think you're really high."

You giggle.

"Yeah, but does that mean you don't want one?" You grab a black lacy pair, wiggling it in front of him, "You can take it home with you if you want, cum all over it and give it back to me and I'll give you a new one."

Eddie swears, eyes glazed over, locked on your hand.

You frown, dropping your hand. Maybe he didn't want any.

"I want the ones you're wearing." He interjects.

You gulp, looking up at him with wide eyes.

It was your turn to stutter.

"Wh- But- I- I'm wearing them-"

"Yeah? Well take 'em off baby."

"But they're-"

How were you going to explain the wet spot on them that you'd had since you tossed your leg over his hip?

"They're what? Messy? Think I don't know that?"

You let out a shaky breath.

With your head all foggy, you stand, pushing your shorts down the length of your legs, gripping the edge of your shirt to tug them up a little so he can see them.

"They're my favourite. Promise you'll keep them safe?"

His eyes are glued to your clothed mound.

"Yeah." He says, his lips barely move.

You nod, pushing them down your legs. Your face heats in embarrassment when they cling to your wet pussy. You hear Eddie hiss.

"Oh baby." He says lowly, and your breath catches in your throat.

You look up at him with wide eyes as you lift one leg after the other to get the wet material off you completely.

Your lower half is just barely covered by the length of your shirt as you extend the soft white panties to him.

And then they're in his fist, crushed in his palm as he brings them to his face to get a slow breath of your scent.

You bite down on your bottom lip.

"I can't wait to fuck them while I think about you, baby. All the fucked up shit I wanna do to you while I cum in your panties- fuck-"

You press your thighs together, worried your arousal would start slipping down your leg.

He shoves the damp material into his pocket and fixes his blown pupils on you, standing half nude before him.

"You're gonna give me all the panties I want, right? Anytime I ask?"

You nod quietly, but it's not enough for him, he reaches for you, grabbing your hips and pulling you the few short steps it takes to stand between his legs.

"If we're at school, and I lean over to you, and I ask you to give them to me- you'll do it?"

"Yes, Eddie." You whisper.

"And if you come over, and I'm working on my campaign for Hellfire, and I tell you to give them to me, will you?"

"Yes."

"What about if I cum all over them, and I tell you to put them back on, what will you do?"

"I'll- I'll put them back on." You whisper, aching so bad for him.

"Please Eddie." You finally gasp.

His fingers drag on your skin as he pushes your shirt up your body. Involuntarily, your hands move to hide your lower abdomen from his view.

Eddie pauses, looking up at you.

"S-sorry, it's just- Jason always told me that I wasn't the best to look at naked. I just don't want to disappoint you."

Eddie wants to beat Jason Carver upside the head with a bat.

"You could never disappoint me, baby. You're so soft and sweet and pretty and sometimes I get hard when you roll your eyes at me because you're so fucking hot too and I love it when you boss me around and laugh at my jokes and listen to my music. I always have to crank one out after hanging out with you because you're just so... you and you're perfect."

It's all he has to say, before you're leaning forward to kiss him. You push him back until his back hits the bed and you seal your mouth to his swiftly.

His hands delve into your hair and down your back and you gasp when they grip your ass tightly, his rings leaving indents in your skin.

"How dare you be so nice to me, Eddie Munson." You say between kisses, feeling him laugh into your mouth.

"Now's a bad time to confess I've had a crush on you for a long time, huh?"

You reel back.

He lets out a shy breath, looking up at you with hopeful eyes.

"How long?" You ask.

"Middle school?"

"Middle school." You repeat dumbly.

"Yeah- but you were always too popular for me. You still are."

"I- you-" you make a frustrated sound at the back of your throat, gripping his wrists in your hands and pinning them to either side of his head before leaning in to continue kissing him.

"Fuck you, Munson." You say against his mouth, your dripping pussy grinding against the coarse material of his jeans, soaking it with your arousal.

"Fuck me?" He asks, voice low, almost a grovel and you sigh in appreciation between kisses.

"Yeah, fuck you." You confirm.

"No, fuck you." He argues, pushing you onto your back, gripping your wrists instead of the other way around.

His teeth scrape against your jaw while you let out little giggles, missing the way he moves his hands to grip at the front of your shirt. You gasp in surprise when he's able to tear your sleep shirt open.

You say his name, but Eddie's too busy looking down at your chest with a proud smile on his face.

"Oh yeah, a real wet dream." He confirms, before tugging the shirt from your body and unsnapping your bra.

"You're such a perv, Eddie." You say lightly as he kisses his way over your neck and chest.

He hums in agreement, pulling your bra from your body, leaving you bare beneath him while he's fully clothed above you.

He pauses, looking down at you with a soft expression on his face, and for once, you don't feel like covering up.

He leans forward, pokes his tongue out a little, and you gasp in surprise when he licks over your cheek, and then trails over your lips.

His hands grip your jaw harshly, and then his tongue is shoving its way into your mouth and fuck if his debauchery doesn't make you feel so good.

Up to now he hasn't touched any part of your body other than your ass, hips and face and the lack of sensation is driving you crazy.

"Fucking touch me, Eddie." You say in frustration.

He grins against your cheek.

"You're not in charge right now, baby. I am." His ringed hand moves from your jaw to seal gently around your throat. You moan desperately at the sensation and his smile widens.

"D'you like that?" His hand tightens on your throat and you whimper  nodding and gasping out a yes.

"How cute, cause I was only gonna say that I'd touch you when I'm good and ready, but now I just wanna find out what other dirty things you're into."

You let out a whine of his name.

"Shhh, baby, Eddie's right here." He comforts, tracing the back of his hand over your cheek, down your chest until his hand cups your breast gently.

You sigh, arching your back to press your breast into his hand, appreciating his warm palm and the slightly cooler feel of his rings.

His hand squeezes your breast gently and you gasp.

"Mmm, wanna soak these tits in my come, baby." He murmurs, and you sigh in agreement, reaching to put his other hand on your other breast.

A blissed moan slips out of your mouth, followed by the prolonged sigh of his name.

He answers with a groan of his own, leaning down to pepper kisses over your chest.

His hair traces over your skin, sending dancing tingles over your body, your high making you hypersensitive to his touch.

You almost sob in desperation. Unbelievably, you feel like you could come from his teasing mouth alone.

When he suddenly gives gentle pinches to both your nipples you yelp in surprise.

His smile is predatory, it makes you clench, reach for him to pull his mouth to yours. You kiss him slowly, letting the desire build.

He pulls away, and then he's mouthing at your nipples, delivering thick swipes of his tongue, making them shiny with his spit. When he pulls away to look up at you, you can still catch a sliver of his saliva connecting his mouth to your pebbled nipple.

"I think I'm in love." He murmurs, leaning down to smush your breasts together so that he can lick over both nipples almost simultaneously.

He moans, the sound, his words, his actions, make you desperate in your euphoria.

"Mmmm, Eds, please, you're tormenting me." You beg.

He ignores you, his long tongue flicking over each nipple.

Desperate, you snake a hand down your side, trying to work its way between your legs. You just needed a little bit of friction-

Eddie grabs your wrist, angrily swatting it away from your dripping core.

He unbuckles his belt, the metal jingling sound makes your stomach flutter.

"Don't. That's mine now." He grunts, taking both hands and looping them into his belt, pushing them to rest right above your head.

"Eddie, please," you beg, "Explore me later. I need you now."

He shakes his head slowly, his honey brown eyes are dark.

"I've waited, and dreamed, and wished for too long for this, to just let it be over so quickly." He says.

His fingers swirl over your ribs and you wriggle, letting out a little whine when his gentle touch tickles.

He grins.

"Ticklish princess?" He asks, dancing his fingers over your skin and watching you let out little giggles. He doesn't do it for long, grinning wider as he gauges your reactions.

"Is it wrong that seeing you so helpless under me makes me happy?" He leans down to kiss over your tummy.

"I love every inch of you. Your hair and your smile and your tits and I know I'm going to love this slippery little pussy too."

You groan when he pushes his thumb between your thighs, to nestle it securely against your clit. A high-pitched sound leaves your mouth, you're on edge already from the smallest touch.

When he drifts lower, spreading your thighs to settle between them, you sit up in confusion.

"What are you- what are you doing?" You rush out.

He blinks up at you.

"'M gonna lick you." He says simply.

"Lick me? On-on my-?"

Eddie raises his head.

"Princess, has no one ever put their tongue on you?" He asks in surprise.

"Th- there? No I... I didn't know that was a thing."

Realisation dawns on him.

He smooths his hand over you hips.

"Relax baby, lie back. We'll try it, and if you don't like it, I'll stop. 'Kay?"

You gulp.

"O-kay." You whisper, lying back, keeping your bound hands on your stomach.

He starts by kissing your thighs, and your eyes roll back in your head at the gentle, feeling that works you up.

Eddie Munson was kissing your thighs. He was going to lick between your legs.

You relax a lot easier than you think you would if you were sober. The weed making you suggestible to anything Eddie offers. There's no anxiety thrumming through your system, there's just curiosity and the tingle of his hair on your thighs and the feel of his lips as he kisses your slit sweetly.

Eddie moans.

"Taste better than I'd imagined, princess." He praises.

He'd thought about this? Putting his face between your thighs like this? Imagining the taste of your arousal? You can't help squirming.

His grip on your thighs tighten, holding you in place as his tongue draws between your folds for the first time.

You let out a surprised gasp. His tongue bumps your clit and your hips jerk and he takes the initiative to lick over your swollen bud carelessly.

You let out a delighted whine.

His tongue feels good, you decide, amazing, wandering over your pussy, moving in slow circles over your swollen clit. Your body just relaxes, eyelids fluttering as they close.

.

He could lick your cunt for hours, he decides, can't wait to eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Three square meals of your pussy on his tongue and he'd really become obsessed with you.

Now, he was just falling.

Deeper and deeper with each taste he got, with each moan of his name from your lips, Eddie was in deep and he knew it.

You were his now. Only his.

He wanted to take you on every surface possible, make you so pleasure drunk that you never found the sense to leave him. He wanted to wake you up with his cock, and suck on your pretty tits to fall asleep and he wanted you to fall apart now, for the very first time, on his tongue.

He knows the weed had made you more sensitive to his touch, and he uses that to his advantage, running his hands all over your body and watching your back arch as you approach your high.

You gasp his name and your thighs lock tighter around his head and he focuses all his power on keeping up the fast swiping motion of his tongue over your clit.

One loud, beautifully mindless moan, and he feels your entire body tremble.

He laps at the flood of arousal between your thighs, it drips down his chin and he licks every drop of it his tongue can reach.

.

You gasp, you can't stop shaking as he licks you through your orgasm.

You honestly didn't know that tongues could do that, and honestly, Eddie Munson had become the centre of your universe with one kiss to your lips.

When he raises his head from between your thighs, his mouth and chin slick and wet with.... you, your stomach flutters when he smiles sweetly.

"Damn, baby," he murmurs, licking your arousal from his lips, swiping a finger over his chin to clean it up with his tongue right after, "Best pussy I've ever tasted."

You moan at his words.

He grins, leans forward to kiss you, shoving his tongue into your mouth so that you get a taste of yourself.

His hands cup your breasts, they drift down to your hips and you raise your wrists for him to see.

"Let me go, Eddie, please, I need you inside me so bad."

He nods, obliges, his fingers fumble as he tugs the belt off, tossing it to the side.

You don't wait for his approval, before you're reaching for his shirt, pulling it over his head.

His guitar pick necklace hangs low on his chest. Your mouth waters at your first sight of him. The small patch of hair on his chest and the little trail below his navel makes you absolutely feral for him. The feeling worsens when you take him in fully, his hair, and his tattoos, and the scent of his cologne and the rings on his fingers and you know you need him like never before.

Your hands explore his skin, kissing his neck, biting down on the silver of his chain for a moment before leaning up to kiss his lips.

Your thumbs brush through his happy trail on the way to the button of his jeans, and he groans against your lips.

You push his pants and boxers down at the same time, too impatient now when you can see the thick shaft of his cock peeking out at you.

"Eddie, Eddie, fuck." You murmur as you pull him out, pumping him a little as you use your feet to push his jeans down his legs.

He grins when you get stuck, hopping off the bed to kick everything off, crawling back to you a moment after.

His chain is cold against your right nipple, and you gap as he presses right against you.

Your naked body pressed fully to his. Your hands explore his back, the sharp cut of his biceps, the broad expanse of his shoulders.

His tongue in your mouth and his hair curtained around you and this is all you'd ever hoped for.

"You... feel... soo... good." You gasp between the sweet torment of his mouth.

Eddie hums in reciprocation, one of his hands squirming between your bodies, his rings gliding against your clit before he pushes two fingers into you.

You gasp into his mouth, trying to relax to let him in, but his fingers are broad, and it takes you a minute to grow used to the feeling. His rings resting right against your entrance as he begins pumping into you with minuscule movements.

You make a high pitched sound as he scissors his fingers, your eyes locking on to his in shock at the pleasure he's giving you.

A few more pumps of his fingers, with just the right curl, and you're on edge again, face warm with embarrassment at how fast you reach your peak.

You try to warn him, but the words can only come out in broken gasps.

"I'm gonna-- Ed-Eddie, feels- I'm so close- too soon-" you try to shake your head in resistance.

"Don't fight it." He says against your lips, you take a deep breath in response, "Relax, cum for me."

Him.

All for him.

You sob, your body shaking as you let out a sharp cry. You splinter into a million glowing embers, under the force of his fingers and he takes his time, kissing your trembling cheek, putting you back together.

"Never cum that hard before." You admit on a whisper, looking right at him, watching his lips part in amazement at your words, your chest heaving.

"Get used to it." Eddie says decisively, hovering over you.

"Want me to wear a condom?" He asks, looking down at you.

You gulp, eyes wide, and you shake your head.

He leans down to kiss you softly.

"Fuck baby, want me raw?"

"Mmhmm." You confirm, cupping either side of his face.

"Want you to cum inside me too... please Eddie."

He groans, you feel the head of his cock slip along your slit, and you whine, tilting your hips up, hoping to guide him into you.

His chain bumps your chin, he leans down to kiss you just as he lines his cock up with your entrance, pushing in slowly.

You gasp his name, his tip pushing into you and his hips still.

You look up at him for an explanation when he pauses.

"Fuck. I gotta see." He explains, straightening so that he can see where the thick head of his cock is spreading you open.

"You- shit- you're so tight." He grits out, leaning back until he slips out, only to tease your entrance again and again.

He keeps his cock right there, at your rim, working himself in and out of you, obsessed with the way you stretch for him.

His focus is only broken when you let out a needy sob.

Finally... finally, he pushes his way in.

Deep.

Your mouth falls open as he bottoms out inside you.

Your head is filled with static, and the sensation of Eddie being deeper inside you that you've ever felt before.

You can almost feel him in your throat, thick and long and right where he belongs.

You say his name on a gasping breath.

"Right here baby," he murmurs, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"I'm right here. So deep in your cunt and I can't wait to feel you cum. Can you give me a little squeeze? I just wanna feel how- fuck- oh god fuck- tighter than a fist baby fuck I'm gonna do this a whole lot I promise."

You sob when you feel him move. He slides out, pushing back in and tears spill from the corner of your eyes.

"Crying for me baby?" He leans down to lick at your tears, "God I haven't even started really fucking you yet and you're already crying you're so perfect-" he groans again when you clench around him.

His pace doesn't stay slow for long, he sets a moderate pace that has your hips crashing together loudly.

You can't help letting out a little gasp each time his cock pushes into you and it's easily Eddie's favourite thing.

"God. You're so fucking gorgeous. I can't wait to fill you with my cum. Again and again." He gasps between thrusts.

"I know this is our first time together, but I'm gonna make you my little cum dump. God, you're gonna look so pretty."

You let out a desperate cry of his name, eager to give him everything he wants.

His chain smacks your cheek a couple of times and you groan blissfully. Eddie notices and laughs, leaning closer to stop the distraction.

He mouths at your jaw and neck, pace picking up and you cry out loudly. Your nails sinking into his back.

You're toeing the edge of bliss when he stops suddenly, slipping his cock from you slowly, you raise your head in confusion when he lowers his face to your cunt.

You gasp in surprise when his tongue licks you from entrance to clit a couple of times, he spreads your legs wide, looking up at you, meeting your eyes before he leans forward to spit on your pussy.

He sees you clench when the first bit of his saliva hits your clit, and then he watches your pussy clench a second time when his spit dribbles over your entrance.

Eddie licks his lips, smiling at the sight, knowing that you're just as filthy as him, and you get off on all the filthy things he does to your body.

He leans down again, kissing your clit chastely once, twice, thrice, before he's leaning up to push into you once again.

There's no stopping him this time. Eddie sets a brutal pace, eyes locked on you, your breasts bouncing, your eyes rolling back as you let out a long, desperate cry of his name.

He grips your jaw tightly, turning your face so that you're looking into his dark eyes.

"I can't wait to act out every filthy fantasy I have on you." His hand drops lower, tightening around your throat, "All the fucking nasty stuff I'm gonna do- and you're just gonna beg me for more of it."

You nod, gasping.

"Gonna own this tiny little cunt." He growls.

Your eyes roll back in your head again. You can barely breathe as your orgasm slams into you at full force, your entire body quivering beneath him.

He releases your throat and getting a decent gulp of air encourages the long winded cry that leaves your body.

You grip him tight, pulsing around his cock, his pace unrelenting as he continues fucking you hard through your orgasm.

You have a brief moment of clarity when he groans above you, and you can focus only long enough to watch his eyes squeeze shut and his mouth drop open as he comes, emptying his cum deep inside you.

You let out a satisfied moan, feeling him fill you up, his cock pulsing against your inner walls.

He stays on top of you for a few moments, before slipping out of you and falling into a heap beside you.

His hair clings to his face, and yours probably does the same and he gives you a blissed out smile, and you can't help but return the affection.

You scoot as close as you can to him, leaning on his shoulder, letting out a long sigh.

"Wanna smoke another one?" Eddie asks, eyes half closed, looking down at you.

You smile.

"I gotta say," You start, passing the blunt to him, "This is probably one of the greatest ideas I've ever had."

Eddie laughs, a puff of smoke leaving his lips as he does.

"Yeah, princess, one good idea and you think you got it all."

"To be fair, it was a really good idea. Would you have made a move on me otherwise?" You ask.

Eddie pauses, looking over at you, naked beside him, your breasts on display in the comfort of your own bed.

"You're too pretty for me, baby." Eddie says with a sigh.

"That's not true- like at all." You sit up, leaning over to place several soft kisses on his lips when the doorbell rings.

"Pizzas here." You say excitedly, watching Eddie put out the blunt, standing to pull on some clothes. You do the same, sneaking on a clean pair of underwear to be quickly soiled by Eddie's cum still drpping out of you. You hum, grabbing a tank top as you hear his footsteps on his way back to your room. You can almost smell the pizza- pepperoni- and your mouth waters.

He comes back in with a smile, dropping the pizza onto your desk before scooping you up into his arms.

You squeak, giggling as he grips the back of your neck, pulling your mouth to his. He gives you a little twirl and you giggle.

"What was that?" You ask, out of breath when he puts you down.

He reaches for a slice of pizza.

"Nothing baby, just really happy I finally got you." He says.

You bite down on your bottom lip, fighting back a grin, glad to have finally gotten him too.

.

.

.

[cooliestghouliest]

LOVE ME TWO TIMES, ch. two

(chapter one) (chapter two)

PAIRING: eventual Mungrove x Reader

SUMMARY: Struggling to come to terms with the abrupt abandonment of your father, you’re left with two options – attend an “all girls’ therapeutic boarding academy” that’s really more Bedlam Insane Asylum than trusty reformative school, or move half-way across the country to a small town in Indiana to live with your older brother, Rick. The upheaval of your life in Fresno might just end up being a little star-crossed and a whole lot serendipitous.

WORD COUNT: 8.7k+

SERIES TAGS: angst. some pretty heavy topics in later chapters. just enough fluff to hopefully balance it all out. eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI). not a slow burn; it’s pretty hot and heavy right off the bat. eventual love triangle. neurodiversity. dom/sub undertones (dom!Billy, switch!Eddie, switch!Reader), also bi!Eddie and bi!Reader but confused!Billy. drugs and drug addiction. no use of Y/N (but much use of nicknames and pet names). Reefer Rick is Matthew Lillard circa Senseless. more TBA as the story progresses.

CHAPTER TAGS: unexpected tears. some woeful reminiscing. wisecracking siblings. how Rick and Eddie met. flirting in front of a moody bartender. Eddie has a penchant for being self-deprecating but he tries to be funny about it. oversharing. dehydrated!Eddie 😉 (there’s a tease of f!rec oral here). even more cockblocking. a tinge of tension at the end.

TAG LIST: @babybatlover

—

chapter title: Nobody, That’s My Name

Packing up had actually taken three hours, mostly because you were so undecided on what to bring.

Your stomach was in knots with the realization that you’d have to leave some things behind. You wished you could just transport your entire room as it was to Hawkins.

This had been your sacred space since childhood. You were only two when your family made the move from Chicago to Fresno, so this house was really all you’d ever had memories of.

Your room had grown up and changed alongside you, a non-sentient appendage and an outward expression of every new trend and month-long hobby you’d picked up along the way.

“Bean, you good?” Rick’s voice called out from the other side of your closed door.

You’d been seated on your bed — it could have been for a few minutes or half an hour, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t noticed the wet line that rimmed your bottom lashes until you turned to look at your brother as he stepped inside your room. When you blinked, a tear broke free and rolled down your cheek.

“My face that ugly? You gotta cry when you look at me?”

You choked out a laugh, bringing a hand up to wipe your eyes dry. Leave it to Rick to try and lighten the mood. It’s what he’d been doing his whole life – never taking anything too seriously, refusing to get hung up on any emotion other than those aligned with happy hedonism.

You’d always wondered if there was a secret storm that raged somewhere deep inside of him.

“All my stuff isn't gonna fit inside your stupid van,” you said, not bothering to explain further.

You didn’t need to. Rick could read between the lines.

This was going to be the first time you’d left the only home you’d ever known for longer than a sleepover at a friend’s house.

The residence itself would never win any awards for being the greatest of places, but your bedroom, on the other hand — that had a surefire shot.

It was here where your dad had first read you the The Hobbit, the precursor to your love of fantastical tales.

It was here on the floor where you made your first prank call with Cynthia Toomey, your childhood best friend. It was to a teacher whose number had been written on a stall in the girl’s bathroom. It didn’t strike you as odd then why a twelve-year-old would know a much older male teacher’s phone number, but after the man had gotten arrested a few years back for soliciting a minor at a park, it all started to make sense.

It was here where you’d heard Janis Joplin for the first time, a record Rick had mailed you for your fourteenth birthday. Her deep crooning voice scratched at parts of your soul you didn’t even know were itchy.

It was here where you’d first taught yourself how to sew a patch onto your backpack; where you’d first tried on the lipstick and eyeshadow you’d stolen from the vanity in your parent's bedroom, something that resulted in a week's worth of extra chores (according to your mother, it was to teach you "the consequences of petty theft" or whatever); where you’d first experimented with a girl while watching Happy Days, soft tongues and even softer fingers exploring every inch of uncovered skin as Fonzie’s signature “Ayyyy’s” mixed with her breathy moans and your rapid heartbeat.

“I didn’t think I’d care that much about leaving,” you admitted, voice shakier than you’d hoped it would be.

Rick watched you from the doorframe, giving a knowing smile in an attempt to mollify you. “Y’know, you might not believe it, but I couldn’t sleep the first three nights after I left. Kept thinkin’ about how much I missed my bed and the noise the air conditioner made that I used to think I hated.” He quieted momentarily, observing his surroundings. Overflowing plastic bags and opened suitcases stuffed full of clothes, books, vinyls, and random knickknacks were scattered across the floor. “It’s still home, even if we never really wanted it to be.”

Rick walked over to one of the cases. He bent down to zip it up, having to put a foot on the grip to shut it enough so it closed completely. “But you’re gonna make a fuck ton more memories in Hawkins, Bean,” he pledged, grabbing the handle and pulling it towards the door. “We are. Okay?”

You chewed your lower lip and allowed yourself a few more moments of wallowing before heaving a sigh, slapping your thighs with the palms of your hands as you stood.

“Okay. You sap.” You snatched as many full plastic bags off the ground as you could. “The first memory’s gonna be about how much weaker you are compared to me.” You looked down at the single heavy suitcase he was carrying, scoffing lightheartedly. “Only one, Richard? Really? You have another hand. Use it.”

And he did, by bringing his free one up to flip you the bird.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Although your brother had a spacious purple-painted 1970 Ford Econoline the pair of you could have comfortably slept in, the back of the vehicle was currently filled to the brim with all of your luggage.

Any time the side door had to be slid open for whatever reason, an ample amount of contents came pouring out.

One of your "haunted-as-shit dolls," affectionately dubbed by Rick, had fallen victim to the concrete ground outside of a gas station in Colorado. Its glass eye had popped out and shattered, its arms detaching from its tiny body. You’d gasped in horror at the doll’s demise, smacking Rick on his chest for being so careless.

It was safe to say neither one of you were going to be getting anything from the back of the van until you’d made it to Hawkins to unpack, or else Rick would be forced to face your wrath.

Your possessions were prized, goddammit.

So, one motel stay and thirty-two hours after leaving the WELCOME TO FRESNO sign behind, Rick finally pulled into the driveway of his boathouse.

The orange neon lighting of the van’s dashboard clock read 10:13AM.

You’d been soundlessly sleeping for the last hour of the car ride, having dozed off shortly after Rick had put in a Talking Heads cassette, the G Major melody of This Must Be the Place lulling you into a dreamless nap.

Rick suddenly had the brilliant big brother idea to grant himself the honor of becoming your own personal wake-up alarm.

Putting the car in park, he switched the Talking Heads cassette out for Bad Religion’s How Could Hell Be Any Worse? He skipped to a track titled In the Night, cranked the volume to the max, and started to head-bang and sing along wildly off-key.

You startled awake immediately, arms flailing at nothing as you tried to rapidly blink your eyes open.

When you found Rick performing his solo concert, way too committed to the bit, you refused to laugh at the sight, even if it was your gut reaction. The last thing you wanted to do was encourage him. “Noooo, is this what you’re gonna be like the whole time?” you instead asked with faux abrasiveness, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.

Rick grinned wide, never faltering in his seated moshing, not until the song came to an abrupt end a few seconds later, when you’d finally had enough and reached a hand over to eject the tape.

“I didn’t want you to have an aneurysm,” you told him plainly with a shrug, in response to his offended look. “I could hear your little brain rattling around up there in that thick skull. I got worried.”

Rick shot a hand up to cover his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. “You wound me, little sister. Deeply and completely.”

He pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped outside, hurrying to the passenger side of the van to slide open the back door. He tried with both hands to stop the cascade of your belongings from spilling out, but failed miserably, clothes and books landing in messy heaps on the driveway.

“Hey, what the fuck!” you called out, hopping down from your seat to start picking up what you could from the pavement, pulling your items to your chest. “Don’t you have any grace?”

Rick pretended to ponder this before saying, “Grace, huh. Think I dated that girl in high school. Don’t have her anymore, nope.” That earned a snort and an eye roll from you.

Rick remembered a time when your brattiness would have annoyed him to no end. He knew it would again, and probably soon, but he was surprised by how fond of it he was right now, how much he missed having you around.

“Once we get all this shit inside,” he started, grabbing two suitcases, filling both hands so he didn’t have to hear you comment about his carrying capabilities (or lack thereof) again, “you can unpack, and we can shower and relax. But then I’ve got plans for tonight.”

He’d begun walking to the front door, you trailing off behind him. “So you’re ditching me the first night I’m here?” you scolded, albeit playfully. You honestly wouldn’t have minded some alone time, being able to start decorating and acquainting yourself with your new abode. Still, you wanted to keep playing the part of bitchy baby sister, a role you hadn’t been able to play in so long but a role you fell right back into, as easy as riding a bike. “That’s very rude, Rick. What a horrible host you are.”

“Not a chance, Bean. Plans for us tonight. You’re comin’ with. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

He’d told you that he was taking you to some bar called The Hideout. It sounded sleazy, and you’d told him as much. He didn’t argue that, just said there’d be food and drinks and live music. And some guy there he knew that was in the same grade as you.

You didn’t know this, but Rick had a plan for Eddie Munson. He was going to barter with his young metalhead friend: be the lookout for his little sister when Rick wasn’t around, and he’d heavily discount the bulk weed and other goodies Eddie bought from him for the foreseeable future.

“What’s this guy’s name again?” you asked, moving to kick your feet up on the dashboard before Rick swatted your legs down. Again.

He’d told you several times already that sitting like that was one of the most dangerous positions to be in if he got into an accident. Said that your legs would snap and your bones would jam through your body. You thanked him for the visual, then kept doing it.

“Eddie," he answered.

“And what exactly does this Eddie look like…?”

You tried to breach the question with as much nonchalance as you could muster, but the intent behind your inquiry was still obvious: was Eddie attractive?

“Off-limits.”

“Hmm. That’s a weird physical description of someone.”

“I’m serious, Bean. Don’t.”

It wasn’t that Rick didn’t like Eddie.

It was quite the contrary, actually.

Rick had met Eddie the summer of ‘84, outside one of Al Munson’s many, many court hearings, after the elder Munson had mistakenly asked both of them for a ride home.

As an apology, Al invited both Eddie and Rick over to where he was currently freeloading at some guy’s apartment, to smoke a few bowls (that ended up coming from Rick’s personal supply) and order Chinese (that Eddie ended up paying for).

At some point that night, Al had mentioned to Eddie that Rick was the go-to guy for weed and weed-alike.

“Oh, shit, man – you’re Reefer Rick?” Eddie had asked after a particularly rough coughing excursion, having hit the piece a little too harshly.

“Reefer Rick? That’s what the kids are calling me?”

Eddie nodded, handing the bowl off to his dad. “Yeah, you’re kind of like a celebrity. Or a unicorn?” Rick’s brows furrowed deeply at this. Eddie laughed before explaining, “Meaning I very confidently thought you didn’t exist. Figured you were just who the posers from school said they got their shit from as a red herring, so they didn’t get in too much trouble when Hop took their stash.”

“Hop, like, Hopper? Beer-bellied fucking pig asshole Jim Hopper? That motherfucker knows I sell?”

Hopper had been a thorn in Rick’s side since just about the day he’d moved in.

Jim had been pulling Rick over for minor traffic violations almost weekly by that point, and if Eddie was telling the truth, the hard-on Hopper seemed to have for him now made a hell of a lot more sense. The cop was probably trying to catch him with something on him.

Eddie grinned like he was letting his company in on a joke. “Well, he knows Reefer Rick sells. You're just Rick Lipton, my friend."

From that night on, Eddie would stop by Rick’s house twice a month to re-up on his stock. The pair would sometimes get stoned around the fire pit in Rick’s backyard after they made the deal, and Rick soon found out that Eddie was not at all like the hardcore persona he projected to the world. And he definitely wasn’t a magnet for mayhem like his old man.

At heart, Eddie Munson was a total fucking nerd.

He liked mythology and board games and doodling and passionately debating which conspiracy theories he thought would stand the test of time. He often marveled at Rick’s comic book collection, standing at the shelves for an hour or so at times, just browsing the titles that stood out to him. Eddie’s favorites to flip through were Rick’s copies of Twisted Tales and Creepshow.

Rick had briefly thought a handful of times that you and Eddie would probably get along great if the two of you ever met.

But then the thought of just how great you’d possibly get along would get Rick irritated with Eddie for the non-existent relationship the boy didn’t have with a sister he didn’t even know Rick had.

On their last meet-up, Eddie had told him that he and his bandmates would dress up as pirates and paladins and go to the Ren Faire twice a year.

The band. That was another reason Rick was wary of introducing the two of you.

Being in the scene for as long as he had been now, Rick knew many musicians, and he wouldn’t trust nearly any of them around his baby sister.

They weren’t all like Eddie, though. Rick had to admit that.

Sure, the boy was a little rough around the edges, rowdy and flamboyant, but Rick remembered being kind of the same way as a teenager – and he hadn’t ruined the lives of any girls, had he? Not that he knew of at least, or at least not intentionally.

He’d been a bit of a relationship hopper, just desperate for attention when you got to the bottom of it, but Rick had never been disrespectful of women. He’d never forced himself on anyone, never pleaded to turn a “no” into a “yes,” never verbally or physically accosted any of them. Rick couldn’t bring himself to even imagine doing anything like that. He couldn’t imagine Eddie doing any of that either.

Despite cringing at the idea of you and Eddie maybe catching something more than just friendly feelings for one another, Rick still couldn’t think of another person he’d trust more to keep tabs on you when he himself wasn’t around.

But Rick could still at least try to persuade you to see Eddie in just a platonic light.

“He’s a dork, Bean. His favorite talking point is why Gollum is just a misunderstood victim. Doesn’t shut up about how they do the special effects in those gory B-horror movies, ruins the whole fuckin’ movie yapping. Plays lame board games with his little weirdo degenerate friends.”

“First of all, Rick, did you ever even read Lord of the Rings?” you started, throwing your hands up in disbelief, and Rick was sorry he even opened his mouth. “Sméagol is totally just a misunderstood victim. I mean, sure, whatever, he bit off Frodo’s finger, but he was basically the reason Sauron was defeated! It’s all the Ring’s fault. It was evil. It possessed everyone.” You huffed, settling back against the seat as you watched Rick pull into a parking space at what you assumed was The Hideout. “Also, are these things supposed to make me want to talk to this guy less? 'Cause if that’s the case, you’re really good at doing the exact opposite of what you intend.”

Rick gave a classic you move, rolling his eyes.

“Just don’t flirt with him, Bean, damn. Please. It’s, like, my only rule. He’s my… friend. He’s my friend. So just don’t.”

You pushed your lips to the side, stepping out of the car before Rick turned off the ignition.

Did your brother know nothing about you? Being told you weren’t allowed to flirt with this stranger, to even go as far as saying he was ‘off-limits’? You now knew exactly what your plan was for the rest of the night: try to break Rick’s only rule.

Isn’t that what little sisters were for?

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You knew Rick had said there would be live music, but you definitely weren’t expecting four young men about your age on stage singing nearly spot-on covers of Slayer and Iron Maiden songs.

Rick had gotten the two of you a table towards the back of the bar. He’d bought you a vodka pineapple – which he wasn’t initially intending on doing, at first telling you a Coke was all you were getting, something you were not willing to accept; after a hefty amount of prodding, he moped off to buy you the fruity alcoholic beverage just to get you to stop being so fucking annoying about it.

You were nursing the last few sips, sucking the liquid noisily through the small black straw, when the cute lead singer with the mess of black curls brought his mouth to the microphone.

“You guys have been great, really, all five of you, couldn’t ask for better fans,” he spoke to the sparse crowd. No one clapped or cheered or anything, which made you laugh out loud at the one-sided interaction. “This’ll be our last song for the night – ”

“Freebird!” someone in the audience called out.

“Vince, I tell you every time, we’re not fucking playing Freebird, man — it’s never gonna happen,” tall, dark-haired, and handsome sniped from the stage.

Familiar chords started to echo out from the bassist, the moppy haired drummer hit his wooden drumsticks together in a steady rhythm, and the small-town rockstar began singing Enter Sandman.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Rick had been chatting with a handful of other bar patrons throughout the duration of the band’s setlist. A few of them — older, biker-looking men — occupied your table as the band on stage started to descend, done for the night.

You heard the jukebox start up, playing some Dolly Parton song, a hilarious juxtaposition from the heavy metal music that had just filled the bar.

Your eyes searched for the lead singer, spotting him heading over to the bar alone, the other boys in the band disappearing off backstage with their instruments in tow.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” you announced, but Rick just nodded and waved you off, in a deep conversation with one of the bearded men about something to do with Special K. The cereal? You didn’t know, and you didn’t care to stay long enough to find out.

What you wanted to do was to talk to this Kirk Hammett lookalike that poured his heart out on the stage of a hodunk bar like he was performing in front of hundreds of thousands of people at Madison Square Garden.

His back was to you when you approached, black ringlets of hair falling down past his shoulders, frizzy from the indoor humidity.

You put your now empty drink down on the bar-top, the clinking sound pulling his attention over to you.

Oh, wow.

He was nice to look at from afar, but even nicer to look at up this closely. His face was flushed, likely from the hour-long show he’d just put on, a small smattering of light chestnut freckles peeking out over alabaster skin. His big brown eyes widened as they took you in, as if he couldn’t believe you were staring at him.

“You were great up there,” you started, not able to contain your smile. “Made me forget I was in Hawkins. Thought I was at Whisky a Go Go or something.”

He looked surprised. Whether that was from your compliment or just from you talking to him in general, you weren’t sure. “Yeah?” he prodded, voice deep and raspy, obviously a bit blown out from the seven or eight songs he’d just belted.

You nodded eagerly. He grinned wide, chest puffing out a bit now. Boys plus ego stroking equaled checkmate, one of your favorite mottos.

“Can I, uh, buy you a drink? Whatever you want… whatever that was,” he pointed to your empty glass, “I can buy you another one of those.”

“Nice try, Munson,” came the voice of the bartender. Your new friend — Munson, supposedly — shot him an annoyed look. “I know you’re only twenty. You can have water or a soda. That’s it, kid.”

The raven-haired metalhead turned his attention back to you, face a bit chagrined. “Foiled by the barkeep. Sorry. You want a soda? Best in the Midwest. You’ll never drink another Coca-Cola like this ever again.”

You laughed. “Sure, I’ll take a Best in the Midwest soda. Coke with grenadine, light ice.”

“You heard the lovely lady,” Munson said to the bartender, obviously enjoying that he now got to order the man around a bit. “Coke with grenadine, light ice. Hop to it.”

“Lucky the boss likes you, you little shit,” the bartender was grumbling, but Munson didn’t seem distressed. Amused, if anything.

You watched as his eyes drifted up to the top of your head. “Now those are cool,” he acknowledged, pointing with a ringed finger.

Your brows furrowed in confusion before realization struck. Oh, yeah! You’d forgotten you’d put on a tiny little headband before leaving for the bar. It was black, but had two small red devil horns poking out on either side.

“Why, thank you,” you said, bringing a hand up to touch one of the points. “Although I wasn’t really going for cool. More along the lines of wicked or evil, maybe. Sinful. Be the reason everybody in here’s thinkin’ all those shameful thoughts.”

Had Eddie been anywhere else, or at least not high from the adrenaline he ran on after performing, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to fight off the blush from your comment. That, mixed with the heavy-lidded stare you were currently fixing on him, he’d have been a goner.

Thankfully for him, he was able to continue to false bravado his way through this conversation, as he’d just spent two-ish hours channeling his inner Eric Adams from Manowar. He could act like a big shot for a little longer. “With a face like yours, I don’t think I can call you anything but an angel.” He surprised himself with his flirtatious evenness, but he tried not to let it show on his face.

He watched as your eyes softened a smidge, but the moment was ruined when the bartender shot forward your glass.

“Coke with grenadine, light ice, for the lovely lady,” he mocked, his hard stare never leaving Munson’s face.

When the bartender turned away, Munson glanced at you, then shot a look over his shoulder at the moody man as if to say, What’s this guy’s problem?

You couldn’t help but laugh at his colorful expression before you brought your straw to your lips, taking a sip.

“Oh, fuck!” came the expletive from Munson. “Sorry. Here I am, buying you drinks and calling you an angel, and you don’t even know my name.” He fixed himself into a relaxed pose, leaning his side against the edge of the bar-top. “Hi, there. I’m Eddie.” He offered what he hoped was a beseeching smile.

Eddie… Eddie… where had you heard that name tonight? You knew you’d heard it from somewhere…

Oh! Eddie! As in, Rick’s off-limits, total dork of a friend, Eddie. This had to be him, right?

How lucky you were. You didn’t even have to go searching for your fun for the night. He just strolled off the stage, practically falling right into your lap. He’d even bought you a drink!

Achieving your goal of breaking Rick’s only rule might be a lot easier than you’d intended.

“Ooooh, so you’re Eddie,” you bemused, taking another small drink. “Of course you’re Eddie.”

A worried look overtook his previously collected features. “You’ve heard about me?” he asked. His voice now wasn’t as confident as it had been before. It was tinged with uncertainty, maybe a bit of anticipatory disappointment. “What d'you mean, 'Of course I’m Eddie’?”

“No, no, it’s nothing bad,” you cooed, bringing a hand to rest on his forearm. You could feel the solidity of his muscles beneath your fingers. You fought the urge to squeeze. “All good stuff, actually. Meeting you’s just adding to the intrigue. I promise.”

That seemed to put him more at ease. He nodded slowly, eyes briefly darting down to your hand which was still grazing his arm. You took it away, wondering if he wasn’t appreciative of it.

You’d read it wrong. He was.

“What’s your name?” he asked, finding your stare again.

Should you have told him?

It probably wouldn’t have hurt.

But you were afraid maybe Rick had already gotten to him, told him to steer clear of his little sister. Name dropping yourself might make Eddie back off, and you did not want that.

“You said you can’t call me anything but an angel,” you replied with puckish modesty. “So, let’s stick with that.” You put your free hand out, the one that had previously taken space on his arm. “Hi, Eddie. I’m Angel.”

You were a little bewildering, kind of cryptic, and super fucking hot. Eddie was a big fan of all three. He didn’t want to pressure you into giving an actual name if you didn’t want to. He could live with Angel. It wasn’t like the moniker was inaccurate.

“Okay, angel,” he granted, taking your hand in his. “It’s an honor.” He brought his lips down to press lightly against the skin of your fingers, eyes never leaving yours. He relished in the tiny bite you gave the corner of your lower lip at his action.

The bartender cleared his throat loudly. Both you and Eddie rolled your eyes simultaneously, turning your attention to him again as you pulled your hand back.

“You two mind? No one wants to come up here and drink with the both of you making Fuck Me eyes at each other. Scram.”

“You’re mean,” you admonished.

Eddie laughed at your accusation, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing at it under the heavy weight of his hair.

“You smoke?” he asked.

“Smoke what?” you countered.

Eddie grinned. “I was gonna suggest a cigarette, but maybe you’d be interested in something a little… greener?”

Your brows shot up in intrigue and you nodded, sucking the rest of your soda down in three long sips before slamming the glass back down on the wooden surface of the bar.

“Show me the way, rockstar.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“So, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you around here before,” Eddie started, leading you out the door of The Hideout, heading into the parking lot.

You’d quickly scanned the crowd for Rick before exiting, wanting to make sure he was still otherwise occupied and wouldn’t catch you sneaking out with the one person he most definitely didn’t want you sneaking out with.

No longer was he talking to the biker bros that had basically accosted him at the table. Now he was sitting so close to a pretty purple haired girl that you were sure their foreheads were touching. His hand was on her cheek, and he was smiling goofily at her.

Good. He should be busy for a while now. Thank you, lavender loc’d lovergirl.

“'Cause you’d remember my pretty face if you’d seen it before, is that the rest of your sentence?” you teased.

Eddie grinned a bit bashfully, hand moving to rub at his neck again. You acknowledged it was probably a tell for when he was nervous or bordering on embarrassed. Good to know, perhaps an essential quirk to tuck away for safekeeping.

“Yeah, something like that,” he admitted with a laugh. “But really. You’re not from Hawkins, are you?”

“I am not from Hawkins, no. I actually just moved here today, if you can believe it.”

“Wow,” Eddie said, voice taking on a bantering tone. “Less than 24 hours here and you’re already walking alone at night with some stranger who many have dubbed a sinister cult leader. I may just be Indiana’s very own Satan incarnate. What ever will your parents think?”

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be the offspring of a high-level Duke of Hell,” you countered, fully thinking of your mother when you spoke. “Guess it’s a match made in… Inferno?”

“My favorite kind of match,” Eddie confessed with a grin as you approached the brown and cream Chevy Beauville you figured belonged to him.

You paused for a beat as Eddie pulled open the side door before asking, “Do people really think that? That you’re a cult leader?”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. When he spoke next, he took on a theatrical guise, words laced with performative shock. “When I walk down the street, men can’t help but to scoff and glare; women clutch their purses to their chests; mothers cover their children’s eyes before their children can shriek in horror; dogs bark and wolves howl and the whole Earth opens up beneath my feet.”

You found yourself watching in utter amusement at his sermonizing, your focus unwavering on his expressive hand motions and his demonstrative body language, your ears attuned to every shift in infliction of his voice.

Rick was right.

Eddie was a dork.

But such an endearing dork. A stellar storyteller. A winsome wordsmith. And it was like he wasn’t even trying. Like this ingenuity came to him as easy as taking a breath.

He reminded you a little of your father -- the eagerness to put on a show, the effortless spellbinding nature. The similarities filled your chest with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Too much?” Eddie asked, cringing a little at your silence.

You shook your head slowly, smiling. “Not at all.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Eddie had a multicolor Afghan spread out on the floor in the back of his van, one he informed you was made for him by a past girlfriend of his Uncle’s.

He apologized profusely that the interior wasn’t more appealing, mumbled something about how he should maybe think about getting actual seats installed, but when you sprawled out wordlessly on the blanket, back plush against its scratchy softness, and positively beamed at him, he shut up.

He sat down next to you after finding a half-smoked joint in his middle console, offering it to you for the first hit.

“Where'd you move here from?” he asked after a few moments of peaceful silence, nothing heard but the sizzle from the lit Rizla and the steady stream of cars from the busy street outside.

“Fresno,” you replied, passing the joint to him as you held in your hit until the smoke burned your lungs.

“A California city girl in little ole Hawkins?” he bemused, taking a deep drag. “You must feel pretty out of place here, angel.”

With a shrug, you said, “Dunno yet. It’s only been less than a day, remember?” You took the joint as he extended it out to you, taking a smaller hit this time. “Ask me again after school on Monday.”

“You goin’ to the community college or something?”

“No, I’m still in high school. Senior. I think it’s just called…”

“Hawkins High. Yeah, I uh, I go there too.” That hand rubbing at the back of his neck again. “Um – Paul, y'know, that mean bartender, he… said something about me being twenty? I dunno if you heard. But, yeah. I got held back a few years, so…”

Turns out the hand thing was a sign of embarrassment.

“Eddie, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you told him, moving to position your weight onto one side, leaning against your elbow. “Everybody’s on a different path. Besides, high school is such bullshit. It’s basically hardwired for you to fuck up or fail. Believe me, I know.”

You took another hit, this one bigger, wanting to feel the lightheadedness of the high sooner rather than later, especially breaching this subject. It always warranted a lament from you.

“I’ve had specialized learning plans since forever,” you continued, passing the joint off to him. His brows furrowed in concentration as he listened. “I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was little. Like, five or six. I could never sit still in class, and I always needed way more time to take tests than everybody else, and I'd forget whole chunks of paragraphs that I’d just read the second I finished reading them.” You sighed, slightly frustrated at the memories, but the weed was beginning to work its magic. Your muscles felt like they were relaxing, tension drifting away, and your head felt a very good kind of heavy. “But then I got on medicine, and it helped. Still helps.” As an afterthought, you added, “When I remember to take it.”

Eddie considered this for a few moments before sticking the joint in his mouth, inhaling. “Shit. Maybe I have ADHD,” he surmised, exhaling a thick cloud into the air.

“Maybe,” you suggested. “I’d say you could talk to my mom, 'cause she’s a psychiatrist, but she’s actually a huge fucking bitch, so nevermind.”

Eddie laughed, not expecting you to say that, and he'd been in the middle of another inhale so he ended up choking and coughing hard on the smoke.

“Oh, no!” You hurried into a sitting position. “Are you – are you okay?” you asked, and you felt bad, but you couldn’t help the little laughs that were escaping your lips at his now bright red tomato face. You were stoned. “D'you – do you have water in here, somewhere?”

Eddie nodded, having a brief break in his hacking fit, pointing to the front of his van. “Y-yeah, shit,” cough, cough, cough, “o-over there. Fucking fuck, man.” Cough, cough. That last one sounded like it hurt.

You scurried on your hands and knees to the front of the van, scanning the dashboard for some kind of drink. The high made it seem like your eyes could only move in slow motion. Finally spotting a half-drank bottle of blue Gatorade, you snatched it, crawling hurriedly back over to where Eddie sat hunched over, trying to control his breathing.

He took the drink, spun the cap off, and quickly downed most of the contents in an attempt to soothe his raw throat.

“Goddamn,” he rasped out. He realized he was still holding the joint in his hand. He definitely didn’t want anymore now. He looked to you, offering it silently, but you shook your head, rejecting it. He stubbed it out in an ashtray that was laying at his side. Bringing the Gatorade back to his lips, he dipped his head back, finishing it off.

Without really thinking, and weed always loosening your already pretty loose inhibitions, you brought your hand to rest on his cheek, your thumb stroking a small path back and forth on the smooth skin under his eye. “You good?” you asked, the ghost of a laugh twisting at your words.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat at your touch. He was happy he’d swallowed the Gatorade or else he probably would have started choking on that, too.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a careful caress like the one you were currently giving him. It was simple, but it felt so good. So soft. And – fuck – you were straddling one of his thighs with your legs, and he didn’t even think you noticed. But he definitely did.

Even though his skin was covered by denim, he could still feel the heat from your center warming him. His cock gave an appreciative jerk in the confines of his tight jeans.

Your eyes finally drifted down to the sitting arrangement you found yourselves in. Slowly lifting your gaze to meet his glassy, doe-eyed stare once more, you tilted your head to the side in quandary, hand not dropping from the curve of his face.

“Should I move?” you asked, voice a pitch louder than a whisper.

“Please don't,” Eddie answered, unblinking.

You let your weight rest fully down on his thigh, shifting your hips once, watching as his eyes rolled back at the contact. He was so receptive that it made your cunt clench around nothing, and you took that moment to pull his face closer to yours, pressing your lips to his almost hard enough to bruise.

Eddie groaned at the feel of your mouth, his tongue eagerly and immediately trying to pry open your lips. You grinned into the kiss, giving him what he wanted by allowing his hot tongue access to slide slippery against your own.

He thought you were sweet and citrusy, like sugared oranges, and a little tart, like ripe pomegranate. He thought fleetingly that if he could, he’d bottle you up and drink you with every meal.

You thought he was fresh and sharp, like spearmint gum, and heady, like expensive sativa. Your tongue fought with his for dominance, each moan from either one of you spurring on the other, greedy mouths working hard to stake their claim.

When you finally pulled away, you were a little out of breath. “God, Eddie, you kiss like you’re thirsty.” Your hand moved from its resting place on his face to tangle in the curls at the back of his head.

He groaned when he felt you tug at the roots of his scalp, bringing a hand up to cradle just under your chin, fingers stretching out over the expanse of your neck. A lazy grin curved at his lips.

“You wanna see thirsty?"

With that, he flipped the both of you over so you were on your back, Eddie positioning himself between your spread legs. You were happy for the padding of the Afghan, knowing the cool steel flooring of the van would have pinched your skin unpleasantly.

He wasted no time in pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking quick but harsh at your supple skin.

You moaned wantonly, lolling your head to the side to give him better access. Your legs moved to wrap around his slim waist, your hips moving up to feel as much of him against your center as you could. Eddie couldn’t help but give a thrust down against you, his persistently hardening cock straining taut against his jeans.

“Can I taste you?” he asked against your skin, pressing softer kisses to the tiny marks he’d left just moments ago with his lips and teeth.

A strained whimper escaped your lips at his request. You nodded, feeling more drunk than high, arching your hips up again to try and garner more friction from him.

“Say it,” he demanded, bringing a hand up to grip at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “‘I want you to taste me, Eddie.’ Tell me.”

“I want you to taste me, Eddie,” you repeated lewdly, ad-libbing after with, “please, Eddie, want you to make me feel good.”

His pupils blew dark and wide, and he slid the remainder of the way down your body, burying his head under your skirt. Without removing your underwear or even pushing them to the side, he pressed his mouth to the damp fabric, his open-mouthed kisses continuing there. A desperate sound came from him as he sucked you through your panties, the deliciously honeyed scent of you enveloping him completely.

In this moment, he felt like if he died with his face buried in your heat, it would be a very happy and welcomed death.

“Eddie, take them off,” you demanded, shaking your hips around in a frustrated movement.

He laughed at your impatience, but moved to grant you your wish. He hooked his fingers under the sides of your panties, just about to pull them down… before a loud pounding was heard on the outside of the van.

“Hey, Ed? Hate to interrupt you, dude, but my mom’s gonna be pissed if you don’t get me home by 10.”

Eddie groaned loudly, the noise sounding almost pained. It seemed like it took a lot out of him to have to move his head out from under your skirt. He glanced over his shoulder to the clock on his dash, the LED numbers reading 9:35PM.

“This dream just turned into a real fucking nightmare, angel,” he grumbled, biting down lightly at your inner thigh.

You jolted at the feel of his teeth, and couldn’t help but give a frustrated whine at his sentiment, wholly agreeing. Your entire body was thrumming, wanting so badly to be touched and given a release.

“Eddie…?” came the voice again.

“Yeah, Doug, got it. Give me a minute, man.”

Eddie took one more longing look at your clothed cunt, studying the wet spot made from his spit and your arousal. He gave a salacious lick of his lips before dragging his eyes up to meet yours.

“That’s my bassist,” he begrudgingly informed. “His mom’s like your mom. Huge fucking bitch, but don't ever tell him I said that. I have to drive him home or else she’ll forever forbid him to play another show.”

You offered him a placating smile, moving your hand to brush a few of his longer bangs from around his eyes. “It’s okay. I mean, it really isn’t, 'cause I’m so fucking horny right now, but I get it.” Eddie gave another groan at your admission. He cursed the universe for shit fucking timing, and for totally inconsiderate bassists who didn’t have their licenses.

“Can I see you again?” he asked, voice bordering on timid.

It was shocking to you how he could go from dirty mouthed amateur porn star to red-cheeked virginal teenage boy in the matter of minutes. The duality was enticing. You briefly wondered just how far you could push him to either end of the spectrum.

“I’ll give you my number,” you said, but then remembered, “oh, wait, I don’t know my number yet. Um. You can give me yours?”

Eddie nodded fervently, moving to a kneeling position as he reached over and started looking through a pile of stuff on his passenger seat. He pulled out a pen from the mess and ripped off a small piece of paper from an old report card, quickly scrawling down his digits.

“Here,” he said, moving to hand it to you. He did a quick once over though, realizing you didn’t have pockets, so he slid the folded piece of paper under the front hem of your panties. He patted it with his fingers and gave a pleased grin before saying, “C'mon, I’ll walk you back inside.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

By the time you’d made it back through the front door of The Hideout, Rick was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, obviously in search of you.

“What the fuck, Bean!” he scolded, marching his way up to you when he spotted you walking in, not even glancing at Eddie. “I don’t pay attention for two minutes and you disappear for an hour?!”

“Two minutes, Richard, really?” you laughed out, the sound incredulous. Because, really, Rick’s timeframe was way, way off. You knew he wasn’t the greatest at math, but damn, right now he was straight up delusional. “You’ve been talking to everyone but me since we got here! You weren't paying attention for way longer than two minutes.”

“So not fuckin’ true,” he said, but his tone was quieter now as if he figured that, yeah, it might actually be true.

Rick’s eyes finally drifted to your side, observing Eddie’s presence. You’d taken great care to fix the boy’s hair and his clothing, making sure he didn’t look disheveled for this very reason – you could tell Rick was sizing the younger man up after finding out the two of you were off somewhere together. Alone.

Eddie looked like a lost puppy, glancing between you and Rick, trying to figure out what the fuck the dynamic between the two of you was. You tried your hardest not to look so amused at his sweet, utterly confused expression.

“Oh, yeah, I ran into Eddie while I was outside smoking,” you explained away easily. “He told me you guys are friends. I figured he’s who you brought me here to meet.”

Eddie side eyed you, unsure of where this was heading. He definitely did not tell you that he and Rick were friends. Eddie didn’t even think him and Rick were friends. He hoped they were, he wanted them to be, but he didn’t think it’s how Rick would have classified their relationship.

Rick turned his apprehensive gaze on Eddie. “Is that true?” he asked, eye contact steady and unblinking.

Best go along with it, Eddie thought.

“Couldn’t be truer.”

The older man seemed to consider Eddie’s response for a minute before a familiar silly grin etched itself across his pierced face.

“Cool!” he exclaimed, clapping Eddie on the shoulder.

Rick had been planning on propositioning Eddie tonight about being your watchdog, but after downing a few drinks and having basically driven around for the past four days straight with little sleep, he figured that conversation could wait a little longer. “You wanna come over tomorrow night, Munson? Hang out with me and the little sister for a bit?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, shaking his head slowly in uncertainty. “Sure, but... who’s your little sister?”

Rick’s smile slowly began to fade in skepticism as his attention moved from Eddie and back to you standing beside him.

“Me, silly,” you admonished, bringing a hand down to grab at his, concealing the contact behind your back so Rick didn’t see. You stroked the skin on his thumb in a wordless apology for the whole not-being-totally-honest-about-who-you-were thing.

Eddie’s eyes widened at the reveal, still a little too stoned for the realization that he’d just had one of the hottest make-out sessions of his entire life with… Reefer Rick Lipton's… little sister…

Shit.

“Remember? I told you outside?” you were pleading at him with your eyes, still trying to make it not appear obvious that you were lying your ass off to your older brother.

Eddie indulged, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the rage of Rick if he found out what had just gone one in the back of his Beauville.

“Oh, yeah! Right, right!” Eddie tried to play it off. “Sorry, man, I’m just – totally fucking stoned.” That part was relatively true. This whole interaction was making him feel even higher than he thought he was in the first place, actually. Eddie gave Rick what he prayed was an easy-going grin.

You released Eddie and stepped in between the two of them, forcing out a wide yawn. “Rick, c'mon, I’m getting tired,” you brought your hand to your brother’s arm, starting to tug at him, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go home.” You stressed the last word, hoping that by you referring to his Hawkins residence as that, it would soften and distract him.

It did.

Rick relented, figuring he was probably just looking too deeply into things, understanding his paranoia sometimes got the better of him. Nothing probably happened between you and Eddie. He was probably just being an overbearing older brother. Probably.

“Right. 'Kay. Lemme just go find this one girl and say bye.” He disappeared off into the dwindling crowd, and you assumed he was off to bid adieu to the same purple-haired girl from before.

You took this as your chance to turn to Eddie.

Eddie, who was currently staring at you a little too warily for your liking.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you implored, fingers finding his hand again. He didn’t make a move to pull away, so you took that as a good sign. “Just come over tomorrow night, okay? We can talk about it.”

It kind of freaked you out how much you didn’t want this – whatever this was – between the two of you to be ruined so quickly.

Since your dad left, you knew things in your life had gone a little downhill, and you also knew you’d been acting a bit belligerently in your attempts to try and ignore it. You’d been making irresponsible, rash decisions all over the board – from school, to home, to friendships and relationships. Nothing seemed to be sacrosanct from your newfound self-sabotaging behaviors.

From this, you’d encountered quite a few willing partners, of both the opposite and same sex, to occupy your mind and time since last summer, and not a single one of them was someone you were interested in getting to know more than just carnally.

Eddie was the first person in a long time you felt you actually clicked with on more than just a physical level, and that was evident from your discourse at the bar, your rendezvous in the van, and now with the realization that you may have screwed it all up by not being truthful to him. You were starting to get a stomach ache. This was so not how you’d planned on the night ending.

Across from you, Eddie seemed to weigh the entire situation as you just had, his dark brown eyes studying your face as he did so. Maybe to find a glimmer of further deceit? Of an ulterior motive? He was used to those things. It wasn’t often people wanted him just to want him. It was usually to get something from him.

However, he could find nothing but honest anticipation in your eyes. His fingers squeezed yours briefly before Rick made his way back over, your brother’s heavily tattooed arm sliding around your frame as he pulled you away.

“See ya tomorrow, Munson!” Rick called.

At the last moment you could, right before the door to the bar closed, you looked back over your shoulder at Eddie. He saw you smile at him. Your intention was to silently ask for the possibility of forgiveness, or at the very least, understanding.

Eddie watched the door you’d exited through for a minute or two longer. Blinking back to reality, he realized he was tired, at first thinking it was just from the weed, but then remembering that Corroded Coffin had literally played a show tonight.

That seemed like days ago at this point.

Being in the van with you had felt like a lengthy escapade, definitely more than just roughly sixty minutes spent together.

Eddie’s palms started to sweat.

He hadn’t known you before an hour ago, but now that you weren’t next to him anymore, talking and teasing, he’d felt more alone than he had in a long time.

Exiting the bar, Eddie headed back to his van.

The whole trip to Dougie’s house and then on his ride back to the trailer park, he was fake scenario-ing all the different ways tomorrow night at Rick’s could go.

Maybe he was bound to be screwed over by you eventually, fucked royally in a not-so-fun way.

But Eddie, ever the opportunist, would likely let you as long as that meant he got to go along for the ride.

[jo-harrington]

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 4)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 13.8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, fatphobia (if you squint?), Babysitter Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Too Bad There Isn't Any), Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, brief mention of suicide, self hatred, loss of identity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dry humping

Note: Ok this one...took a while. And after 3 rewrites and me coming to a 3 am epiphany that I'm a better writer than I give myself credit for, here we are. Shout out to @ghost-proofbaby @trashmouth-richie @br0ck-eddie @big-ope-vibes and I'm sure a lot of other people for getting me through this. My computer is currently running like a potato and doesn't want me to add more to this text post.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"What do you guys think he's doing?"

"He seems pretty focused. New lyrics?"

"Nah, he has to be planning something really messed up for Friday's session."

"Or, instead of lurking around and gossiping like old biddies," Steve raised his voice to add to the commentary. He glanced up from his notebook and passed an expectant look at the rest of Corroded Coffin as they hovered a few feet away, lunches in hand, hesitant to join him at the lunch table. "You could just ask. Now are you guys gonna just stand there looking like nerf herders or are you gonna sit?"

The boys immediately jumped and shuffled to the table to take their seats.

"Uh, so...Eddie," Jeff began hesitantly as worked on the latch of his lunchbox. "What, uh, are you writing?"

"Miller wants an essay about the Constitution," Steve explained and scratched his forehead with the worn-down eraser of his pencil.

"Oh shit, and it's due today?" Dave went wide-eyed.

"Nah, not til next week," Steve shrugged, and then looked up to see the dumbstruck expressions on Eddie's friends' faces. "What?"

"You're...doing homework that's due next week?" Gareth laughed. "Who are you and what've you done with Eddie?" The other boys chuckled and Steve couldn't help but crack a secret smile.

If they only knew.

It was another hour, another day, another week in the body of Eddie Munson.

For the most part it had been bearable, and Steve wondered if it was actually getting easier or he was just getting used to it. He really hadn't realized how many plates Eddie kept spinning though, and when he initially questioned how Eddie continued to fail senior year...well he quickly changed his tune.

On top of the Hellfire Club, Corroded Coffin gigs and practices, and the endless parties that he seemed to be invited to deal at, he seemed to take care of everyone.

He made sure the kids and the guys were all protected from bullies, which meant Steve had to perpetuate the whole Satanic facade--he was getting pretty good at the devil horns and tongue. The money he made dealing immediately got split between various stashes around the trailer, then his and Wayne's wallets, which made Steve extremely guilty about the allowance his mother bribed him with gave him. And if that wasn't enough, Eddie was the one who shopped and made meals for Wayne and, surprisingly, Reefer Rick.

Steve had only seen Rick a handful of times over the years before Eddie had taken over as the designated dealer at all the high school and college parties. More recently, Rick would only make a trip into Hawkins to stop by the VFW and then swing by Family Video. He never questioned why...and he almost felt ashamed that he never did before now.

He got too hung up on rumors and jokes. About Rick. And about Eddie.

Steve had promised to play the part though, and he did...but it was really starting to wear him out.

Still...Steve figured that he would make the slightest bit of an effort on Eddie's school work. For all the glory days of high school that Steve had...he was getting pretty sick of Hawkins High. At the very least, he could help Eddie get out of here. And at the most, if he was stuck in Eddie's body forever...well, he didn't want to be a 50-year old high school senior.

Jeff and the guys had mocked Eddie's speech about flipping Higgins off during graduation...and damn if Steve wasn't going to make that happen, come hell or high water.

The younger boys finally took their seats at the table, Dustin practically bursting with frantic energy, as usual, and Mike extra glum.

"What's got you down Wheeler?" Steve asked, throwing a pretzel at Mike's head. "I know it's only Monday but..."

"Someone's keeping my birthday present a secret," Mike groused and Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Here we go. He's been complaining about it all day," he explained. "Lucas and I literally can't have a minute alone to discuss it."

"You know I hate secrets."

"And he tried to bribe Will."

The two of them squabbled back and forth and Steve grinned fondly.

He might've loathed the homework but he was glad he got to see the kids more. More still, he was...almost grateful that Eddie had been there to guide them through the minefield of the first few months of freshman year, since he couldn't.

"Alright, that's it. Shut up!" Steve finally shouted. "You're just gonna have to have a little patience, Wheeler. Just cuz your mommy still says you're special, doesn't mean everyone else is gonna let you walk all over them."

The guys all snickered and made quiet jabs and kissy noises at him, calling him Mama's Boy and the like, as Mike turned red.

"Shut up I don't--hey, how did you know about that?" he narrowed his eyes. Steve's eyebrows jumped in challenge and Mike backed down with a sigh. "Whatever. Fuck you guys...anyway, Eddie, my sister wants to talk to you," he announced in a bored tone.

Now that piqued Steve's interest; he sat up straight and glanced around the cafeteria for her.

As though he didn't know exactly where she and Jonathan Byers sat.

He felt his heart speed up when he met her eyes and she waved him over.

Steve had done his best over the last year-and-a-half to get over Nancy. He'd gone to prom solo, asked new girls out left and right...shit he'd even tried to get her back once or twice. Or at least get her to dump Jonathan. He wasn't entirely proud of it but...Robin had really been the one to set him straight.

He'd faced a lot of bitter realizations but he thought he'd been through the thick of it. Seeing Nancy in passing now and again at school though...well it wasn't doing anything to help that.

And now Nancy wanted to talk to Eddie? Why? They didn't have any classes together--she had practically all Advanced Placement classes and Eddie obviously didn't. Aside from his association with Mike, Nancy steered clear of Eddie.

As Steve got to his feet--ignoring Dustin's cry of "hey can you meet me in the library after school"--a laughable thought struck Steve.

First you had confessed your crush on Eddie. What if Nancy was next in line?

He faltered in his step as he made his way across the cafeteria.

Maybe it wasn't so laughable after all.

Since you had made that little confession to "Eddie," Steve had gotten half-the-idea in his head that...well Eddie wasn't that bad of a guy, what if he could find Eddie a girlfriend or something? He'd tried to ask out a few of the cheerleaders who had approached him about dealing at a party but was promptly laughed at.

And he wasn't gonna even bring up that one girl who was lingering in the theater department last Friday after school, as he went to set up for Hellfire with the kids. He was lucky she didn't just die of fright as he said hi.

What if the answer was Nancy all along?

It almost made him feel a little sick.

Except...

She liked...weird guys like Jonathan...and Eddie was certainly a weird kind of guy. And one of the things Nancy had liked about Steve had been his cool personality. Sure Eddie was sort of a loser...but she was popular now thanks to Steve...what if she liked the cool, bad boy and was getting bored of Jonathan.

As he continued on his journey he mentally calculated the distance between Will and Nancy. Their table was pretty packed--filled with their friends from Newspaper--and there was more distance between them than there had been between him and Nancy right before they broke up.

"Hey, uh, Byers, Wheeler," he greeted awkwardly and crossed his arms over his chest and devoted his attention to Nancy. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah can we..." she got to her feet and motioned toward the door.

Steve's heart pounded in his ears as he followed.

"Listen, Miss O'Donnell was a little worried about your grade and she asked if I could maybe...tutor you," Nancy explained, then paused pensively. "Actually, I asked her for a letter of recommendation for one of my applications and she said she would if I tutored you ahead of the midterm. Sorry. I-I do think she's really concerned about your progress though."

"I think the more accurate statement is that she doesn't wanna see my ugly mug in her class again next year," he joked and she gave him a tight-lipped, sympathetic smile.

"I didn't want to agree if you weren't open to it," Nancy sighed. "But I really need that letter. You'd...you'd really be my hero if you did this."

Steve stared at her for a moment, his thoughts racing at all the possibilities.

It didn't really sound like she was tempted to leave Jonathan in the first place but...that didn't mean he couldn't turn on the old Harrington charm. She had fallen for it once...maybe she enjoyed the charm just in a different package. And yeah, he had you waiting for him if he ever made it back to his body. But...if he didn't...

"Listen, I want out of here as much as the next person," Steve finally replied. "So, uh, I'm game if you are."

"Great!" Nancy placed a hand on his shoulder excitedly and Steve could practically feel the warmth of it despite the layers of denim and leather. "Uh...I have some free time after school today?"

Steve vaguely remembered Dustin wanting to meet him...he was sure it had something to do with the spell and he certainly didn't want Nancy to find out about that.

"I, uh, have a Hellfire thing," he lied. "How about Wednesday? I always study better with a few snacks. We can meet at Benny's? 5 o'clock?"

Nancy nodded and confirmed the time and place. She placed her hand on his shoulder again, then went back into the cafeteria.

It took a second, but Steve suddenly felt like all the wind was knocked out of him.

"Eddie" had a study date with Nancy on Wednesday.

He had a date with Nancy.

Eddie was halfway through his shift before anything exciting happened.

Sorry, halfway through Steve's shift.

He really wasn't trying to be bitter but...

Eddie had spiraled for a few days after the unfortunate mishap while he was trying to...relieve himself. Sure, it started with "Steve's" relationship with you, but it was almost like Pandora's box; once the box was opened, everything flooded out. He couldn't sleep without thinking of it, and every waking moment, he was consumed by the blaring differences in their lives.

He wasn't himself and it was driving him crazy. Making him sick.

The smell of the laundry detergent Mary Harrington used, the taste of the tap water in their hose, the softness of Steve's bed.

He'd tried to get comfortable in someone else's skin but the truth was that he wasn't going to fit in it, even if he wanted to.

However, in order to get back to his own life, he needed to keep playing the part of King Steve Harrington, keep stuffing himself into a place that didn't fit. Ignore the stifling tightness, the bulges, and the stretching at the seams of his very being.

That didn't mean he had to give up everything that made him Eddie.

He'd had a day off last Tuesday, and he'd just...spent it trying to reconnect with himself.

He'd stopped by Rick's for weed--and also to check on him, even though Rick wouldn't realize he was Eddie--drove up to Fort Wayne to get high and walk through the conservatory, buy some concert tees at the second hand shop.

By the time he arrived at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin's gig, he felt almost whole. And then he had one of the best performances of his life.

Only to realize that he couldn’t fully enjoy it.

Which led him to skip out on Benny’s with the guys after the set, because as much as he wanted to see you, he knew he couldn’t stand to witness the way you would be indifferent to “Eddie” only to dote on “Steve.”

This was so fucked up. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

It was as he had that very thought that his beloved van pulled up right outside the store and “Eddie” and the kids piled out, looking frantic and excited.

Dustin caught Eddie’s attention and quickly waved to get him to come outside.

“I thought you were the babysitter Harrington,” Keith sniffed judgmentally from the front of the shop where he was stocking a display. “What’s Munson doing here with your kids?”

“He got custody in the divorce,” Eddie snarled and vaulted over the counter. “I’m taking my lunch.”

“Wh-hey?!” Keith stuttered as Eddie strutted out the door purposefully. “You forgot to clock out!”

Steve and the kids were all talking over one another excitedly by the time he reached the group.

“They wouldn’t tell me shit until we got here,” Steve grinned. “But apparently they figured out how to fix this.”

“What?!” Eddie’s eyes went wide, the prospect of being back in his own body too monumental to not be excited. “That’s great!”

“We’ve translated the passage!” Dustin announced.

“We?” Lucas asked skeptically.

“Lucas translated the passage,” Dustin amended.

Before Eddie knew it, he and Steve were sitting in the back of the van as Dustin, Lucas, and Will went back and forth over their findings.

He felt like he was in an episode of Columbo for a minute. The kids being detectives who solved a great mystery and were reliving their investigation step-by-step. Lucas did most of the Latin translation, but part of it fell on Will’s shoulders. It wasn’t your run-of-the-mill Latin they learned in class but some obscure dialect.

“Which, uh, I coincidentally have a book about because I have actually been coming up with that one-off campaign for Mike’s birthday,” Will confessed and reached up to scratch the back of his neck as he turned red. The other boys whooped and patted him on the back and Eddie couldn’t help but feel proud of him too.

Eddie always said these kids were the future of Hellfire, but truly he couldn't see them having a better DM than Will Byers.

"Anyway," Dustin returned to the topic at hand. "This is what we ended up with." He pulled a crumpled up piece of notebook paper from its place within his backpack and handed it to Eddie.

The page was covered in crossed out words and different scribbles in each of the boys' incredibly distinct handwriting.

"Jeez, you couldn't have at least rewritten it on a fresh piece of paper?" Steve asked critically. Dustin simply rolled his eyes and grumbled something along the lines of "next time you're cursed, you're on your own" as Eddie and Steve leaned together to read the translation.

A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another's eyes. If what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.

Eddie felt his throat tighten as the guilt washed over him.

Sure, he had accepted that the fault lay entirely with him--he already vowed not to use any occult books for future campaigns again--but seeing it there on paper just solidified it.

A prize reflected in another's eyes. You. But you weren't some prize to be won. Sure he...he wanted you to be his but you weren't some object. And to think of you that way...well...he knew enough about magic to know that it didn't happen by accident. He had to believe that you were a prize, at least a little bit, to make something like this happen.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily.

This wasn't what he wanted at all.

"Alright, so what does it mean?" Steve questioned.

"It means you two are jealous of each other," Lucas explained.

Both Steve and Eddie stiffened.

"What?" they exclaimed in tandem. They looked at each other and Eddie laughed while Steve simply looked horrified.

"What do you mean, jealous of each other?" Eddie scoffed.

"Oh, come on Munson," Steve rolled his eyes. "Of course you're jealous of me, this entire predicament we're in is because of you and because--."

"No, no," Eddie held out a hand to stop him from continuing. "Shut up. I'm jealous, alright? Jealous that you seem to get everything handed to you. Anything you want? It's yours. Is that what you wanna hear Stevie?

"But," Eddie paused and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you jealous of me?"

"W-what?" Steve coughed awkwardly. "I'm not--"

"Why did you say that Sinclair?" Eddie jumped to his feet and pointed at Lucas. "Why did you say that we were jealous of each other?"

"Uhhh..." Lucas squirmed a little under the intense scrutiny of the older boys. "W-well...it's about the way the sentences were structured. I'm not...I'm not an expert or anything but it's referring to you in plural. If what you, vōs, seek is what you lack. Not you, tu."

Eddie then turned back to Steve and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well?" Eddie asked expectantly.

Steve was still for a moment before he began fidgeting. He fumbled over his words--a bunch of well-you-sees and you-don't-understands--as he pinched the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his hair. Eddie watched, almost sympathetically knowing how hard it was for him getting used to Steve's unfamiliar body, as Steve faltered with his longer mane.

"It's...I...it doesn't matter!" Steve finally shouted. He jumped to his feet and put his hands on his hips; he began pacing back and forth, one arm occasionally flailing as he gesticulated. "It doesn't matter why I'm jealous of Eddie? So what? We need to figure out how we can fix this.

"Selfless love? For what? For each other?" Steve blew a raspberry childishly. "Fat fucking chance. There has to be another way. I don't care what we need to do. I just want to change back."

"Change back from what?" a light, raspy voice sounded from over their shoulders.

The entire group stiffened and turned toward the voice and, lo and behold, there stood Robin. Shuffling her feet back and forth restlessly, frozen in place as she tugged her family video vest from her backpack. The moment everyone's eyes were on her, she grinned bashfully and waved at them all.

"Well, shit," Steve cursed in the most Eddie-like fashion.

If it had been up to Steve, Robin would never have found out about the whole...switching bodies...curse...spell...thing...

But when did something he wanted ever be taken into account by the universe, huh?

As soon as the group had realized Robin was there, all of the deflection and anger drained from Steve's body. He felt guilty for another one of his friends getting dragged into this mess. Because as much as he was happy to let Eddie take the fall, the fact of the matter was that Steve was just as jealous of Eddie.

As much as Eddie had admitted to being of him.

Steve had wanted to give her an explanation right then and there, and he would have if Keith hadn't chosen that moment to be his usual effervescent self.

"I'm closing the arcade tonight," he opened the door and glared across the parking lot at "Steve" and Robin. "So you need to clock in Buckley, and if your friends are still here by the time I take my break later, your hours are getting cut."

If there was one thing Steve had to choose that he didn't miss about his own life, it would be his boss.

So Steve brought the kids home and then returned to the Family Video parking lot to endure panic-inducing silence as he waited for Eddie and Robin to close the store. He could have listened to one of Eddie's endless tapes or smoked--Eddie's body was constantly craving one thing or another: cigarettes, sugary or salty snacks--to kill the time. He simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

It was a literal out-of-body experience. He watched himself and Robin talk and laugh as they went back and forth, helping customers and cleaning up once the store was empty. He knew his friend, knew that she was stronger and smarter than other people gave her credit for.

But this? This made him feel dizzy sometimes if he thought about it too hard.

He hoped they wouldn't get too far, so he could at least...have a decent conversation with her for the first time in a few weeks. Short of seeing her in passing at school...well...he hadn't gone this long without talking to Robin since they became friends.

And he really needed his best friend right now.

Eventually the lights in the businesses of the strip mall began to click off, one by one, and Steve practically held his breath until Family Video's lights finally shut and Eddie and Robin exited the building.

Eddie slapped a hand on Robin's shoulder and said something that made her roll her eyes before he got into Steve's car and drove away.

Robin made a beeline for the van and silently hopped into the passenger's side. Steve's hands--Eddie's hands--gripped the steering wheel tightly enough that he could feel the rings cutting into the creases of his fingers.

The atmosphere in the van was heavy as he sat under Robin’s scrutinizing gaze.

"I knew something was up," Robin finally announced as she slammed the door closed. Steve looked at her as though she had grown a second head.

"What do you mean ‘you knew?’” Steve asked incredulously.

She sighed and began counting on her fingers.

“You’ve been a real grouch when you’ve picked me up from class lately and I know you’re a morning person. Which sucks, by the way. You asked if I wanted to skip home room and get McDonald’s breakfast with you, you hate McMuffins—”

She went on and on, and Steve melted. Yeah, he could admit they had their squabbles and they didn't always see eye to eye. But at the end of the day, no one really understood them like they did each other.

And it felt really good to be understood as Steve Harrington right now.

"--and then you're always complaining when your mom doesn't cut the crusts off your sandwiches and lately you've just been eating them. Also I mentioned something about Vickie the other day and you just ignored it, so I figured that you were just annoyed with me."

She heaved a little bit at the end, having said the last bit in one go without stopping for air. Steve reached across the console and flicked her ear, causing her to slap at his hand.

"Ow, butthead! What was that for?" she exclaimed.

"Are you fucking kidding me Rob?" Steve burst out laughing and Robin chuckled along with him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"How was I supposed to know you switched bodies?" she slouched into her seat. "Here I was thinking that you just didn't wanna be friends with me anymore. Which, you have to admit, is a more likely explanation."

Steve was about to protest but he stopped mid-word and frowned.

"You know what? You're right."

"I know," she grinned smugly. "Now what have you been up to and how much help do you need with this whole 'switching back' thing? Because Eddie isn't that great at being Steve, which means you must really suck at being Eddie."

They went back and forth as Steve put the van into drive and regaled Robin with stories and mishaps in the short time he'd spent as Eddie Munson, and she laughed at his stupidity.

After he left Family Video, Eddie found himself driving aimlessly through the streets of Hawkins. He thought a weight would have lifted off his shoulders after he explained everything to Robin, but everything was...almost a little worse now.

She'd had questions, like any normal person would. Actually, a normal person would have just had them committed. Robin was special though; her own brand of freak. And she was quick to adapt.

Eventually though...the topic turned to you.

When was Eddie gonna tell you what happened? Did you already know? You deserved to know before you fell too hard for Steve; otherwise, you'd be heartbroken if you ever found out that he was actually Eddie.

Of course, that only fed into all of Eddie's insecurities and self-hatred. All of the doubts he had spent days trying to stuff into the furthest corner of his mind returned with a vengeance.

You wouldn't feel the same thing about him if he was actually Eddie Munson.

Robin didn't know exactly what her words had done to him; she was fully oblivious to his real feelings for you. So he'd done his best to keep those thoughts at bay, and resolved to treat himself to a drive around with the windows rolled down and headband to Metallica as he smoked.

But then Robin opened her big mouth as they locked up for the night and it sent him into another spiral.

"You know...with a little more time, I would have probably figured it out," she chuckled. "You're not as good at being Steve as you think."

At first he wondered if that meant you might figure it out with a little more time. You were sharp, especially when it came to other people; what if one day he did something so inexplicably Eddie that you simply refused to believe he was Steve anymore. Sure, you probably wouldn't be able to guess that he actually was Eddie but...he wouldn't be the Steve you liked anymore.

If he did tell you the truth, would you break up with him? Would you hate him? He'd gotten close many times...but it was just so...ridiculous.

But then Eddie realized that he had been banking on the fact that he was doing all sorts of lovely things with you, had such a deep connection with you--he thought so, at least--and that Steve himself could never live up to it if they switched back.

What if he had you wrong all along? And it wasn't the deep connection that you both built? But just...the fact that he was Steve? You really hadn't had many .boyfriends during school, when you hung around with Mickey's sister. Or any, actually. What if you had a crush on Steve all that time and now...

Eddie felt sick.

Sicker than he was the other night. Sicker than he felt after a bad high. All he wanted was to go back home; not the empty Harrington house, but home. Back to the trailer and his stupid bed and to Wayne, who would give him a stiff hug once he saw Eddie was feeling so down.

But he couldn't.

So he went to the place that felt the next closest to home as he could get right now.

To Benny's.

Benny's had always felt like home to him. When his mom was still alive, waiting tables. She'd pick him up from school and sometimes bring him to work with her. He'd sit at a table in the very, very corner scribbling in his notebook or reading; she'd always scold him to do his homework but Benny would bring him a milkshake and tell Eddie that if he never finished school Eddie didn't need to either.

And to you.

You'd become more home than he ever realized before. Faced with the thought of losing you, he knew he would get over the pain if he absolutely had to. He could move on. But something would always be missing. If none of this had ever happened, the home that you were to him would have stayed cherry pie slices on Tuesday nights and the scribbles in his old notebooks.

But now he knew the taste of your kiss and the weight of your hand in his. He couldn't pretend anymore. He had to know.

Eddie didn't hesitate as he pulled into the gravel parking lot. He was out of the car and headed into the diner as soon as the keys were out of the ignition.

It was almost closing time, so the diner was pretty quiet save for a family finishing up a late supper and Chief Hopper who sat at the counter with a slice of apple pie, chatting with Benny through the serving hatch. You were hunched at a table--the very same table his mom would sit him at--rolling silverware; your eyes darted around the diner every so often to make sure your customers were taken care of, and they immediately sparkled when they landed on him.

The motivation he had to make it into the diner was immediately replaced by those stupid nerves.

"Hey honey," Eddie greeted nervously once you crossed the diner and stood before him. The courage momentarily gone, especially as you made it to the door to greet him. "Uh...table for one?"

"We're about to close," you frowned and glanced over your shoulder. "Uh, but I can ask Benny if--"

"Wait, no," Eddie stopped you before you could go anywhere. "I was just kidding. I really wanted...to see you. I missed you."

"Oh! I missed you too," you grabbed his hand in yours and squeezed. "It looks like you came here straight from work. Everything ok Steve?

His ears started ringing; there it was again.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

The name he had gotten so used to and so sick of. The person he had gotten so sick of being.

"What do you like about me?" he sought suddenly, desperately. "Like...really, why did you agree to go out with me when you could have...dated any other guy?"

Your eyes went wide and you began squirming nervously. He couldn't quite place it but there was something there...something that made him even more nervous.

"Uh, hey Ben, can I take a quick 5?" you asked over your shoulder and Benny poked his head through the window. He narrowed his eyes at "Steve" momentarily but nodded.

"No funny business kid," Benny warned. "She's the best I've got."

You pulled Eddie out the door and to the side of the building, where you took your breaks. Where he had danced with you last week.

"So?" he began impatiently. "Why do you like me?"

"Where is this coming from?" you questioned quickly. "Did...I don't know...did Eddie say something to you?"

"Eddie?" Had you...told him something? Something that would upset "Steve?" What would you tell him? And why hadn't Steve mentioned anything about you talking to him.

Eddie tried to rationalize it. You saw him as a friend, and Steve knew you thought Eddie was a friend. Steve still saw you as his own girlfriend. Maybe you were trying to...Maybe you...Maybe he...

Fuck it was really confusing if he really thought about it. He just needed a straight fucking answer. Otherwise he was gonna go crazy.

"No," Eddie shook his head. He would have to go out on a limb here. "No Eddie didn't say anything but I...I don't know. We've been going out for a little while I guess...even when I first asked you out, I never asked why you said yes. And I just...don't know why you would even want to go out with me."

Your eyes got sad, and took a breath, almost relieved, as your fidgeting stopped.

"I mean, I guess...I've had crushes and stuff before," you began.

Crushes? Oh god, what if you were about to confess you had a crush on Steve. Steve...well he understood, Steve was handsome...not his type...it would hurt but he understood.

"N-no one ever...ever really wanted to ask me out for more than...than a party or something," you chuckled. "I mean they did but...high school right? Everyone kind of sucked. You kinda sucked too Steve.

"And I really wasn't...ok it's funny because I was actually planning to break things off with you." You chuckled and Eddie perked up a little. "You were kind of...self centered, and you...you kept...I don't know. I know you had that breakup with Nancy, so I didn't want to be mean, but you just kept bringing her up!

"But then you...you really surprised me. I told you...you're not...not anything I expected. You don't even seem like you were when you first asked me out. You're...caring and you listen. You're funny, and you like classic horror movies? And then you--"

You went on and on, eyes getting brighter with each word. Eddie felt lighter. Everything you said that you liked about him, well they were all about Eddie. Not Steve.

He was...he was getting in his head for nothing. That's all it was. It was just...nerves and...and...he had nothing to worry about. He could have you, when all was said and done. Hell, he could probably tell you right now once you were finished; tell you the truth about the spell, tell you that he was Eddie, tell you that he...liked you and that you were the thing that kept him going all this time.

You'd probably be...confused. But you knew him. You knew Eddie. It would all make sense in the end. And hopefully, you wouldn't turn him away.

In that moment, however, seeing that pride and confidence take over you as you listed all the reasons you liked him--the way you were so sure of your feelings--made Eddie's own confidence falter. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that telling the truth felt freeing. To you, you were just confessing how much you liked "Steve," and while all of the things you just said made him...so incredibly happy...he couldn't help but wonder...

What if you were angry that he kept this secret from you? What if you...hated him for lying?

Robin said it herself, you deserved to know the truth, before you fell too hard. He should have told you immediately. He shouldn't have acted in his own interest. You were...you deserved so much better.

The doubt you just helped brush away began festering inside of him again.

You deserved to know the truth, but he couldn't hurt you more now. And as much as he wanted you to...to love him, to love Eddie Munson he knew that you would feel too betrayed to ever trust him again if he told you.

"--and it kind of helps that you're really cute too." You finally finished with the brightest, most tender smile he ever saw. "Sorry I guess that's just the long winded way of me saying...I really like you Steve."

And as Eddie ignored the twist in his gut at Steve's name--as he kissed you--he decided that he simply couldn't tell you the truth. Ever.

Eddie felt bad just leaving after he barged into Benny's like that, and to be completely honest, even though the guilt was eating at him he didn't want to leave your side. He convinced you to go out with him for a late night snack and then he followed you home where he gave you another sweet kiss on your front porch.

"You're spoiling me," you giggled as you fiddled with your keys.

"You deserve a lot more than I can give you, Honey," he told you truthfully. "So much better than someone like me."

"Impossible."

It was close to midnight when he pulled into the Harrington's driveway, and Eddie cursed when he noticed the two expensive cars parked beside each other and the lights on in the house.

He hadn't had the misfortune of encountering both of Steve's parents at the same time yet. His dad was usually at work and mom usually just...gone, so the few times he did see them...they were just on their own and he could dodge any questions or conversations.

"Whatever you do, just don't talk to them," Steve had told him. And Eddie had kept up that end of the deal so far. He couldn't be so sure now. He would just have to try his best to get up the stairs and into bed before they noticed their "son" was home.

Eddie turned the key in the lock as quietly as he could, entered the house and closed the door behind him without more than a click. He avoided dropping his keys in the little dish on the table in the hall--

There was chatter coming from the living room, quiet laughter. That was odd. From what Steve made it sound like, his parents always fought.

--but he couldn't avoid running into the table itself. The table wobbled and the other keys in the dish clattered and caused a commotion. The laughter stopped abruptly.

"Steven?" Mary's voice sounded frantic and alarmed.

Shit.

"Yeah mom, it's me." Eddie winced and tried to steady the table.

"I didn't think you'd be home tonight, it's already so late." She was immediately in the hall, eyes darting around, arms crossed over her chest. Her makeup was smeared and hair disheveled. Even her clothes looked in disarray.

Gross. Eddie didn't want to think about the Harringtons fucking on the couch he took a nap on the other day.

"Worked late," Eddie answered dismissively, wanting desperately to get out of this situation. "Just like dad does."

Eddie tried to take a step around her--if they knew he was home, he might as well grab some water or a pop before he went up to bed. Maybe a beer if he had to think of Steve's parents like that. Mary immediately stepped in front of him and blocked his way.

"I was worried," she stated blankly, eyes dead on him now.

"Clearly not, if you thought I wasn't coming home," Eddie snarked, annoyed now that she was making this difficult for him. Here was the bitchy PTA mom Mary Harrington he knew and loved. "I just want to get a snack and go to bed."

"It's late, just go to bed Steven."

"No, I--"

"Now is that really any way to talk to your mother?" a deep voice sounded from behind Mary.

Eddie rolled his eyes, now ready for a fight with Big Papa Harrington--

The thing about the Harringtons was that they looked like something out of a Sears Catalog. Tom was tall with salt-and-pepper hair that coiffed perfectly on his head, bright blue eyes, and a firm, trustworthy voice that always meant business. Mary was a petite brunette with warm hazel eyes, impeccable taste in clothing, and a sweet voice that went shrill when she was upset. And Steve was a good mix of the two; the perfect poster boy for their coveted suburban life.

--only to freeze in surprise when an older man with blond hair stepped out of the living room. His necktie was in his hand, lipstick was smeared across his mouth, and he was shrugging on his suit jacket. The flag pin on his lapel glinted in the hall light, like the unspoken warning in his eyes.

Eddie's mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all.

Steve asked him not to talk to either of his parents very much, to keep their interactions with him short. How he got bitter at even the mention of his parents. The lunches, the calendar, the laundry. The allowance money that she gave him, even though practically everyone knew Steve had been cut off from his dad's wallet. Eddie thought that the allowance money was the secret they were keeping from Tom.

"You can't be mad at me forever, Steve," she had told him the other day.

"It's good to see you again, Steven," he smiled his election-winning smile and put a protective hand on Mary's shoulder. "We were just discussing how the historical society is contributing to the--"

"Larry was just leaving," Mary announced and glared up at Mayor Kline. The Mayor nodded and patted his hand on her shoulder once again before he slunk between them and out the door, Eddie's eyes following him until he was gone.

For all the gruff manner about him, Eddie's uncle Wayne was a bit of a gossip monger. Always had been. He got most of his gossip from the ladies around the trailer park that would offer a cup of coffee in exchange for some handyman repair work that they couldn't do themselves. So Eddie had become quite adept in Hawkins gossip. Rumor around town was that Tom was the one cheating. It was why Mary had the nicest car and the most expensive jewelry. It was why she went on all of his business trips and was treated to lavish weekend getaways.

No one expected that...

"You're cheating on dad," Eddie practically spat at Mary. She heaved a heavy, tired sigh and rolled her eyes a little bit.

"Yes Steven," she agreed. "We've been through this all before. I'm ruining the family, your father is going to be heartbroken, but I don't think I see him here." She waved her arms out and looked around.

"It's past midnight and he's still at the office crunching the numbers," Mary continued. "There are things you just don't understand and you won't until you're grown up and married. But seeing how late you're coming home. Working late. Just like dad.

"So I don't want to hear it from you. I already made you a deal. You got your allowance back. I get to keep my secrets."

She waved her hands dismissively then turned back into the living room, leaving Eddie behind in the hall to process the entire conversation.

He went through the motions as he trudged up the stairs and got ready for bed. As he went to brush his teeth...he stared at his reflection. At Steve's reflection. Stared into tired eyes with purple circles underneath them and a gauntness that hadn't been there earlier.

On top of all the other shit he was feeling...this especially was heavy, and sickening.

Not because Eddie was fond of Mary or Tom or douchebag Mayor Kline.

Not because he was under some illusion that marriages were supposed to be perfect and families were happy.

Not even at his own partial triumph that the perfect Harringtons were truly about as far from perfect as one could get.

But at the realization Steve had to live with the truth that could break up his family.

Steve's visit had you practically floating through the next few days. It was unexpected and so...perfect.

You had gone a few days without seeing him. Not that...you were trying to be clingy or anything. But for the past two weeks he had been consistent in his attention and affection for you...and for it to suddenly stop the day after you tore up your diary and resolved to get over Eddie?

After you told Eddie about your crush in the first place?

It had you in a panic. And, of course, instead of try to communicate and reach out at all, you internalized it and catastrophized.

What if Eddie told Steve? What if Steve hated you now? What if that's why he hadn't called? Or come in with the rest of the guys after their next show?

You thought it all came crashing down when Steve had stopped by and asked you why you went out with him. You thought he was trying to get the truth out of you and for a moment...it felt like the worst thing in the world.

Losing Steve felt like the worst thing that could ever happen to you.

But when he asked again, seeming so lost and insecure. God, it just cut you, because...how could he not see how great he was? Why did he doubt that you liked him?

You relived it after you got home that night. Went over every moment, tried to make sense of it all. Tried to pinpoint anything you had done. And really the only thing you could think of was telling Eddie about your crush.

But...the good definitely outweighed the bad. Your little self-pity and worry over Steve's abandonment of you had vanished and...even now, you were still giggling over him. Over the happiness you felt that you liked him so much, that he liked you back. Liked you enough to worry that you might not like him.

You had to admit that it all felt silly. All of the back-and-forthing, all the doubt. But silliness was good, and it just made the days pass by swiftly. Benny had kept grumbling good-naturedly at your bright smile. He teased you and asked if you needed a quick 5 minute break later and if Steve would be waiting outside for you after close.

Hell, even Lynn's bitterness wouldn't ruin your good mood.

"Alright, Sunshine," she groused at the start of the early dinner rush, just as you came back from your break. "Better hike up that skirt a few inches. Your boyfriend's here, so you gotta look extra cute if you want a good tip. God knows your serving isn't good enough for it."

You felt yourself getting hot from embarrassment; not for Lynn's rude comments but because she said boyfriend, the fact that he was so recognizable now.

God, if Steve was here, Benny would never let you hear the end of it. But how did she know? Steve had work on Wednesdays...

You subconsciously touched your hair and adjusted your uniform before stepping into the dining room. Your eyes swept over the tables, looking for his familiar fluffy head of hair...only to come across another incredibly familiar head.

Your boyfriend. Lynn thought Eddie was your boyfriend.

Eddie's long, curly mane took flight as his head was thrown back, his laughter lost over the din of chattering customers. For a second you assumed he would be there with Jeff or Gareth--hell, he might even be there with Mickey catching up--until you saw the ultra-styled brunette perm that bounced with every motion.

In that moment, you either turned to stone, or you fell into a deep, dark abyss. It was hard to tell. It could have been both. Or neither. But something happened to you and you ceased to exist as you did just seconds before. Benny's little bell in the service hatch sounded flat and distant. The grumpy old man demanding coffee simply melted into the floor. Lynn became a blur in your peripheral vision and phased between tables like a phantom.

And Eddie and Nancy remained in perfect, painful focus.

Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler.

The bell in the window dinged twice and Benny shouted something to Lynn, effectively breaking you from your trance. You wiped your now-clammy hands on your apron and quickly approached the table.

"Hey, how's it going today? Can I get you guys something to drink?" You forced a polite smile onto your face and glanced between them.

This was the closest you'd been to Nancy...possibly ever; she was a year younger than you and aside from your interactions with Steve now, you really never had any business hanging near him when you were still at Hawkins High. She was really pretty. Her blue eyes sparkled, her smile was cute, and her voice was sweet and soft as she asked for coffee, please. Some dark part of you that made you hate yourself though that she was everything you weren't, and you couldn't blame it because Eddie was looking at her like she hung the stars.

"Eddie, are you gonna order?" Nancy's eyebrows jumped expectantly. "It's busy, I'm sure she has other people to help."

"Oh he's a regular he gets--" you started to defend him but Eddie cut you off.

"Just ice water." He didn't even look at you. "Thanks honey."

Your throat got tight and you shot them both a tight smile with a quick "be right back."

How did she do it? How was she...how did she get everyone? She had a boyfriend right? Unless they broke up. But still...she had Steve hung up on her for God-knows-how-long, and now Eddie was like a lovesick puppy.

Your mind raced as you retreated back to the kitchen and went through the motions of your job. Lynn was terrible about starting a fresh pot and you were relieved that you'd have an extra minute of respite to think before you did something stupid like spill hot coffee in Eddie's lap.

What were they doing here? Was this a date? You thought...you saw textbooks on the table. Were they just doing homework or...did they have class together? You'd offered a study session with Eddie once. Not a date. And it was in the library and not Benny's. Fuck. Was it a date? Fuck. And he never looked at anyone like that, let alone you.

Your movements were jerky and full of emotion. Coffee grounds spattered as you scooped them into the brewer, you slammed Eddie's water glass onto the counter, and by the time you were halfway bent inside the ice maker, taking out your frustrations on frozen water, Benny had enough.

"You need a different weapon to stab that ice kid?" Benny chuckled. You stood straight and faced him with, what you were sure was, a pathetic expression.

"I'm sorry Ben I--"

"You just came back from break," he stated matter-of-factly and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's got you all worked up already? Someone out there harassing you? Need me to kick 'em out?"

"I mean, unless you wanna fire me," you replied tiredly, knowing you were more frustrated with yourself than with Eddie or Nancy.

"Ah," he nodded sagely. "I got it. Yeah, I go 8 rounds with myself sometimes too. Wanna talk?"

Did you want to talk to your boss about silly boy trouble? Trouble that you were trying to work through yourself? Because you were supposed to be getting over your crush on Eddie. You were with Steve...and you just needed to remind yourself of that.

Every time you walked out there and saw them talking. If their heads got too close as he whispered something to her over their homework. On the off chance you looked outside and saw them kissing in the parking lot after they left.

You thought...distance from Eddie would work. But you were friends with practically the same people and he always came into Benny's.

Maybe the answer wasn't trying to push Eddie away? Maybe it was just to get closer to Steve?

You ignored the roiling in your stomach and sighed. Either way this wasn't something Benny could help you with.

"Thanks Ben," you responded weakly. "But it's just...I think I have to work it out myself."

Before Eddie knew it, it was Friday and time for Hellfire.

It was weird now, having Robin know the truth about him and Steve. She was having a hard time adjusting to calling him Steve, knowing he was Eddie. Despite the fact that she had been calling him Steve the whole time.

"I'm just going to call you both Dingus," she reasoned. "That way there's no chance of messing it up."

She actually...had been pretty handy the past few days, trying to find the way for the two of them to switch back. She had checked out a bunch of books from the Hawkins Public Library and brought them to Family Video for them to scour through, had apparently taken to sitting with the Hellfire Club at lunch to prevent Steve from making a fool of himself--fat chance--and grilled both Steve and Eddie on every aspect of one another's lives that might be relevant to their switch. More importantly, the switch back.

"What is selfless love? Is it supposed to be...you doing a selfless act for one another? Because I saw this one test Steve took for you last week. He got a B! And you know he's purposefully having tutoring sessions for you? Must suck for him; he aced O'Donnell's class last year."

She had even been a listening ear after Eddie had found out about Steve's mom, and didn't know the best way to get around to talking to him about it.

It had to be eating Steve up inside...hell, Eddie didn't even like the Harringtons and he felt guilty for not telling Tom that his wife was ruining their family and hurting their son by bribing him to keep it all a secret.

Fuck. Were...were he and Steve friends now?

Eddie normally would have shivered at the thought but...actually it was kind of wholesome...to think that King Steve would slum it with the freaks.

But the line would be drawn if he ever had to admit that Steve was a nice guy. Even if it was the only thing that he had to do to get back into his own body...yeah wasn't happening. Guess he would be Steve Harrington forever.

He was currently waiting at the side entrance to the High School for Steve and the others to get back from picking up snacks for their session.

He actually managed to piece together a semi-decent looking outfit. The last few gigs at the Hideout and Hellfire meetings, he had shown up in Steve's signature polo-and-jeans look. But after digging in a box labeled "donate" at the back of Steve's closet, Eddie found what he was pretty sure was Steve's halloween costume a few years back.

A black t-shirt and some...dark grey blazer that Eddie spent his lunch break adding safety pins too--more punk rock than metal but it would do. Pop those on with some black jeans that he also zhuzh'd up...aka cut holes in...perfect Hellfire look.

He wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb at least. Maybe he could ask Steve to bring him an extra shirt next week.

Eddie's van swerved into the parking lot and as soon as it stopped, the back doors swung open and Gareth jumped out with a whoop.

"Harrington, are you ready for carnage tonight?" he shouted at "Steve" and hauled a case of Mountain Dew over his head. The rest of the Hellfire club filtered out and greeted Eddie before helping unload their purchases.

Steve finally joined them and clapped Eddie on the back.

"Glad you could make it, Harrington," Steve winked and looked down at Eddie's clothes. "Slumming it again? What are you wearing?"

"I don't know, Munson," Eddie ran his hands down the front of the blazer. "Just something from the back of the closet."

"The safety pins are pretty cool," Dustin commented with a wink as he and Mike headed in.

Once the guys were inside, Steve hissed in Eddie's ear.

"What did you do to my jacket?"

"Dude you need to stop trusting your mom to buy your clothes," Eddie laughed. "I'm gonna go cross-eyed with all of the stripes."

"You're one to talk," Steve rolled his eyes. "It's a wonder your knees aren't permanently frostbitten. All of your jeans have rips in them."

Eddie shook his head. Asshole.

"Heard you're getting help in O'Donnells," Eddie remarked.

"News travels pretty fast," Steve kicked his feet, spraying the guys with gravel. "Which of you idiots blabbed. Gare?"

"Yeah he's been making kissy faces," Dave coughed and cleared his throat. "I mean...yeah he's been getting special tutoring sessions."

Kissy faces?

"From Nancy Wheeler!"

Wheeler?

"Mike doesn't know his ass from his elbow but even he knows you're crushing on his sister," Gareth teased, earning a high five from the others.

"Lay off," Steve preened in front of the others. "We've only had two study dates."

"Two days in a row!" Jeff protested. "That's your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend...yet."

Eddie felt dizzy; what was even happening. Steve was...Steve was dating you, why the hell was he talking about Nancy like...like he was gonna ask her out. Why was he trying to get him to date Nancy?

He grabbed Steve's arm as the other guys headed in.

"Are you...kidding me Harrington?" Eddie hissed. "I don't need a girlfriend, I just need to be back in my body. Jesus H. Christ."

"You don't...listen Eddie, you don't understand," Steve sighed.

"I think I do, you're obsessed with Nancy and you know she isn't gonna get back with you as yourself so you're trying to get her back as me." Eddie punctuated his words by jamming his finger into Steve's chest.

"She likes bad boys," Steve explained with a shrug. Eddie scoffed.

"Jonathan Byers isn't a bad boy. I'm not a bad boy. You're gonna make me look like an even bigger laughing stock than I already am."

"Well it's a good thing that I'm still you then, you get to enjoy life on top," Steve held out his arms. "It's a win-win. I get Nancy, you get not to be an absolute loser."

"Well what about your girlfriend?" Eddie asked. "You asked me to keep her warm. She's a good one. Don't scare her away."

"You can break up with her if that's your problem," Steve said dismissively. Eddie let out a noise of disbelief. "What? Isn't that it? You're tired of going on lame dates? Listen, we're no closer to switching back than we have been. Why can't you just...accept the inevitable."

"So you just...give up?" Eddie asked. "Because...I dunno, it just sounded like you want to be stuck as me for the rest of time as long as you can be delusional about Nancy."

Eddie realized that he was being thebiggest hypocrite right now.

He just didn't care.

Every day he made himself sick with worry that you were going to find out and hate him. Guilted himself over the fact that he had to lie and deceive you. Every day simply got harder, and as much as he reveled in your affections...he knew it wasn't right.

Eddie had gotten them both into this mess because he couldn't build up the courage to own up to his feelings for you...and now Steve was doing the same thing. Who's to say that if Steve--if "Eddie"--had a chance with Nancy, they might never be able to undo this spell at all.

"I'm not giving up, I'm just..." Steve ran a hand over his face. "Wouldn't it be easier this way?"

There was a second of silence as Eddie connected the dots.

Maybe he wasn't the only one to blame here either. They were both jealous of each other. Eddie jealous because Steve was dating you. But Steve was jealous...because Eddie lived a supposed carefree life. Right? Wasn't that what Steve had said? And...and did Eddie not just find out how un-carefree Steve's life was?

"I get it now," Eddie muttered. "It isn't...it isn't just about Nancy. It's all of it."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"If you're me...then you don't need to worry about keeping mommy and daddy's marriage happy," Eddie explained. "You don't need to...work with Keith. You don't have to worry about living up to expectations when there are none."

"You talked to my mom?" Steve narrowed his eyes, his tone full of betrayal. "What the hell man?"

"I didn't but thanks for the warning man," Eddie scoffed. "Walked in on her and the mayor practically hanging off one another. Ah look at you, see? You look sick to your stomach. Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone. But I bet it's felt good the last few weeks, not having to think about whether or not your dad is gonna find out. That your perfect life is gonna be ruined."

"My life isn't perfect!" Steve exclaimed.

"Neither is mine! If you didn't notice, it's as far from perfect as you can get. Maybe you've just been oblivious to it so far. A few weeks is nothing compared to 20 years man.

"What's gonna happen when the state pen calls on my birthday because dear old dad wants to chat. Or..or when you go to Rick's house to restock your supply and he's having a really bad day. You know how many times I've talked him out of just...ending it? It used to be easier when my mom was around but...guess what Steve? She's dead too.

"My life isn't easy," Eddie concluded. "Isn't perfect. So don't act like everything's easier just cuz you want to get in Nancy Wheeler's pants."

"You don't fucking know what you're talking about," Steve rumbled. "Nancy...shit she's the only person who I've ever loved. Who has ever loved me. Maybe my parents did a long time ago when I was still young enough to be my dad's little buddy and my mom's dress up doll. But not anymore. But Nancy? Nancy got me. She understood me like no one else did."

"What about your friends? What about Robin?"

"What other friends do I have besides Robin?" Steve asked. "They're all gone. They left. Even before graduation."

"And that's what you want now? You want Nancy and my friends too? To help fill your lonely little life?"

"My life is lonely? Please. You're playing a make believe game and wannabe rockstar twice a week with a bunch of kids. All your real friends left you behind too. And I might not know what my future holds but at least I have a future Munson," Steve huffed. "If this spell bullshit hadn't have happened, it isn't hard to guess where you would end up. Still living in that trailer park 20 years from now, fixing toilets, and fucking your fist because who would ever wanna be with someone like you? Who could ever love yo--"

Steve couldn't finish that sentence because Eddie's fist was rocketing into his face. The force of the punch made him fall to the ground.

Eddie felt empowered, filled with righteous anger and self hatred.

There was nothing worse than being faced with the hopelessness of his life, the pointlessness of his future...until those facts came from his own mouth.

"You're on your own Harrington," Eddie shouted as he turned on his heel and walked back to the BMW, not stopping for a second to look back, even as Steve called after him. "You wanna fix my life? You wanna be Eddie Munson? Be Eddie Munson. You don't need my help. Good fucking luck."

“Well here we are, Honey,” Steve announced as he pulled up to the curb in front of your house. “End of the Line. Home Sweet Home.”

It was the perfect date. Again.

Let the record show that Steve was the best at planning dates.

Honestly sometimes...it just seemed too good to be true.

There had been the night when he stopped by Benny's right before closing, and you had that chat outside. Even though you had an early class the next morning, he lured you out to the line of fast food places near the highway on an impromptu date and created ungodly mash ups with different sandwiches.

Or Thursday, he asked if you wanted to have a movie night and you suggested your place since Starcourt was always so packed. He had brought a ton of treats and extra supplies to build a blanket fort in your living room. He stole a few kisses when your hands met in the popcorn bowl. And you had gotten caught making out in the fort by your mom.

Then today--a Saturday of all days--he'd surprised you.

You’d walked outside, running late for your shift, only to find him parked at the curb, leaning against his car with a huge grin on his face. Told you that he had begged Benny to give you the day off to take you for a surprise.

"I have the day off from Family Video," he explained. "Figured I could use a little day out. Thought I could convince you to tag along."

As if a Saturday off wasn't surprising enough in and of itself.

It was honestly like something out of a John Hughes movie.

He had driven you into Indianapolis to go to some outdoor flea market. Played whatever music you wanted on the drive there and back. Got you all the roasted pecans and sweet confections from the vendors at the edge of the market had to offer. Made you fall for him more and more as he talked shop, laughed, and bartered for vintage records and cool sunglasses and a handful of pinback buttons.

"'Get Stoned?'" You laughed and picked out one rather large button.

"Like the Rolling Stones."

"I get it," you laughed. "Just didn't think you were into them enough to get a button."

"Oh...they're the Stones," Steve shrugged. "But, uh, figured...Eddie might be into it."

You really tried not to wince at the mention of Eddie’s name. You smiled and nodded but it just had you thinking back to Eddie and Nancy at Benny's. You knew you had to stop thinking about it...especially in comparison with Steve, and it was getting increasingly more difficult when Steve was the one who brought him up in the first place. Hell, when you stopped at a little drive-in outside of Marion for dinner, Steve even ordered, what you recognized as, Eddie's usual from Benny's.

It honestly threw you for a loop and made you feel a little crazy.

Just weeks ago you would have thought…well you wouldn’t have considered them similar at all.

And now…

Now you weren’t so sure.

You had spilled your heart out to Steve the other night, told him all the things that you liked about him. And it wasn't until you got home from work after seeing Eddie and Nancy together that you realized...a lot of the things you liked about Steve were also things you liked about Eddie.

Sure, Eddie and Steve were hanging out more after all, so they had to have something in common. Maybe hanging around each other brought out the best in one another. The glimpse of Steve you got after that third date…that genuine sweetness…was now only amplified by Eddie’s genuine personality.

Then you had Eddie…his seemingly endless confidence was more of a defense mechanism. Behind closed doors or with your heads leant together over homework he was more vulnerable. Sweeter. But now the confidence had almost made way for cockiness and indifference...which you really had never associated with Eddie before.

So the way he smile and looked at Nancy, the softness he freely gave--

The way you always wanted him to look and smile at you. The way that still devastated you not to be on the receiving end of.

—you rarely saw him show that soft side of himself so freely.

Even if Nancy had a boyfriend…well, it was a hurtful sight to witness and you truly hoped Eddie wouldn’t be hurt if she turned him down.

Huh. Eddie pining after Nancy and Steve being…just a sweetheart. A sweetheart you were falling for. It’s almost like they traded places or something.

You pondered the thought for a second and couldn’t help but laugh at how silly it all was.

“What’s got you laughing?” Steve’s voice broke through your fantastical thoughts and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” you dismissed. “I’m just…just happy.”

Steve smiled that million dollar smile of his--bright and sparkling--and tucked his head into his shoulder a little before glancing back at you.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Yeah.”

“Cuz you had a good time?”

“Well yeah, I always have a good time with you.” You shuffled in your seat a little, tugged at the seatbelt and scuffed your feet against the floor mat. “You, uh...you wanna come in?"

"Uh, is your mom home?" He chuckled nervously. "I don't want a repeat of last time."

No. That was mortifying.

"She's actually out with some coworkers. They got some big contract. Some international account blah," you waved your hand dismissively. "Kinda boring but she doesn't get to go out too much. I dunno.

"But uh...if you did want to come in...we could avoid a play by play. If you catch my drift?" You raised your eyebrows seductively and you thought you made the right reference--he was a sports guy after all. But he just looked like a deer in the headlights.

That was just the natural progression of dating right?

You kiss a little or a lot...and then you make out on your couch...and then...so why did he look shocked. You didn't wanna push him...but he was also Steve Harrington. You honestly thought he would have made a move by now.

Some wicked voice in the back of your head piped up.

Maybe the problem wasn't Steve; maybe you were the problem...

"It's ok if you don't want to," you backtracked, suddenly self-conscious. "Because I know you...you probably work tomorrow or something."

"No!" he shouted, the volume of it a little shocking thanks to the close proximity in the car. "Yes that's...no I...we can go in."

You held back a sigh of relief and smiled shakily.

The walk inside was unremarkable, but every second that passed was filled with more anticipation than the one before. Steve teased you for fumbling with your keys, enough that you dropped them, and he gave your butt a little pat. You grabbed him around the middle and waddled him back from your mother's steam-cleaned carpets so he could kick off his shoes, all the while running your hands over his toned chest. You asked him if he wanted something to drink, like a good hostess would, and he simply quirked a brow and said there was only one thing that could quench his thirst.

But before long it was all just a vague blur because he pushed you up against the wall in the front room and eagerly fused his lips to yours.

Steve was always a little noisy, always humming, but his noises became needier the longer you went. His hands gripped your waist and he thumbed the softness there consistently, as though he needed to prove to himself that you were truly safe within his grasp.

He swallowed the giggles that softly escaped you when his fingers found just the right spot.

"Ticklish?" he broke away and pulled just far enough back to grin through those kiss-swollen lips. You whined impatiently in response. "I think I found my lady's weakness...it's ok. Your secret is safe with me."

A voice echoed in your head, soft and sweet. My lady. Gravelly with sleep in the morning before class, accompanied by a bow, as you passed by Hellfire Club on the way to homeroom

No, no, no. Not again. You were here with Steve. Steve. Not Eddie.

"Mmmh, and what about you?" you muttered petulantly, pushing the thought away. He surged forward for another peck but you kept your hand firm on his chest to hold him back. "Isn't it fair I learn your weakness too?"

"I've gotta have some secrets don't I?" He pulled one of your hands away and pressed feather light kisses to each of your fingers, then the back of your hand.

An image was summoned in your mind's eye, the feeling of lips on your hand as you practiced some sort of Shakespearean reenactment for English class.

Eddie needed to get out of your head. Out of your heart.

You batted Steve's hand away, grabbed his face and mashed your lips to his urgently.

There was a build of anticipation; it was frenzied but it didn't feel rushed. Now that you two had a moment alone--truly alone to explore one another without a nosy neighbor or a potentially wandering police officer or a well-intended parent--it was clear that you both wanted this and wanted to savor every minute of it. Memorize every dip, every curve, every plane. Paint the taste of one another on the canvas of each other's tongues.

He tasted like...

Cherry Pie and Cigarettes and Juicy Fruit Gum.

But he didn't chew Juicy fruit. But he did. But he didn't. Steve didn't. Eddie did.

Steve chewed Big Red. He told you so on your first date when you asked for a stick after the bitter taste of coffee lingered in your mouth.

"I only chew Big Red, is that ok?"

But he had chewed gum in the car after you left the diner. He had his pie, he smoked really quick--a habit you vaguely remembered him saying he was quitting--and he had offered you a piece of Juicy Fruit as he turned the key in the ignition.

You compared Eddie and Steve in the car before, chalked it up to them being friends. But now here he was again and it was driving you crazy. You just wanted to fall for Steve in peace. And you were, you really were, but you were also getting sick of Eddie popping up at the most inopportune times.

You pushed Steve away from you and panted heavily.

"You wanna go to my room?" you asked abruptly. Your eyebrows shot upwards expectantly as Steve stared at you with big, dumb eyes and a shocked expression.

"Yes," he nodded eagerly. "Uh, yeah...yes."

Eddie didn’t know how to feel being in your room.

On the one hand…he doubted whether he should really be here. This was everything he had just condemned Steve for. On the other…it really had been the perfect day with you. You quieted the doubt in his mind. All of Steve’s cutting words about…being alone and never knowing love…they didn’t matter when you held his hand and looked him in the eyes and kissed him.

All of the sweet things you said to him the other night flooded his mind and made him feel like he was underwater. Submerged in your love.

If he closed his eyes and imagined the world was perfect, it did feel like love. He could convince himself that you loved him too. 

The minute your bedroom door was closed behind him, you had grabbed Eddie and pushed him onto your bed. The plush comforter cushioned his fall and your pillows had all bounced around him and he chuckled.

He craned his neck to get a look around your room—white walls decorated with some posters and cutouts from magazines here and there, a small desk, a bookshelf that was so full it was more book than shelf. He’d learned so much about you the past few weeks, more than he had over the past few years of knowing you, but this…aside from the fact that you had crawled onto his lap and we’re nipping at his neck…this was the most intimate he would ever get to know you. Not your body. But your soul, your mind, your light.

If this was his last glimpse of you he ever got in his life, he would die happily. He didn’t need to pretend things were perfect to acknowledge that he was in love with you. It was a fact of his existence at this point. And he needed to show you.

“H-honey?” He asked softly. “Stop.”

“You don’t like this?” You laved at the point where his jaw met his neck before sucking a bruising kiss there. His nerves were alight at the sensation and blood rushed south.

“Where did you learn to do that? Hmm?” He asked teasingly as his hand gripped your waist. You pulled back and grinned like the cat that got the cream. “Oh? You’ve got secrets? Well I’ve got a secret too.”

Something akin to worry flashed behind your eyes and he reached up to caress the side of your face.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured. “It’s not bad. Let me show you.”

Eddie pulled your mouth back to his and you fell into him, obviously enjoying the soft attentions of his kiss. From there he eased you onto your back, happy to hover over you and press his body into yours. He grinned as you made a needy little noise.

More? He could give you more; he was planning on it. More importantly, you were eager to have him take.

You were soft and pliant against him, malleable, as his mouth traveled from yours, down your neck, and further down still. His hands antecedent of his descent, they prepared you for what was to come, gave you every opportunity to push him away, though you never would. He grasped your wrists and pressed them to the soft mattress above your head, rucked up your shirt so he could attend to your breasts.

Fingers deftly peeled away the cups of your bra and as he suckled and venerated, he found that the little strumming motion he liked to do when he played with himself was also one that made you whine deliciously;  calloused pads oscillating over supple fullness and hardened peaks.

Eddie abandoned his paltry devotions to continue onwards. He knelt back and quickly began removing your skirt and underwear, cute little things that would serve no purpose if you were to let him proceed.

“Is this ok Honey? You can tell me to stop,” he assured you. You bit your lip and your bliss-filled face became bashful, but you shook your head anyway. “No? You want me to stop?”

“Don’t stop,” you replied breathily. “Please.”

“I won’t. I’ll give you whatever you want. I promise.”

He ushered you to scoot further up the bed so your head could be cradled by the plush pillows. He couldn’t resist dropping another kiss or two to your lips, to sooth the sting that your teeth were inflicting. Your little needy noises were cute, but you were holding back and he simply couldn’t let that happen. 

“I want to hear you,” he muttered, running his thumb over your lips. “It’s just us. No one will hear. I need to know if I’m doing something you don’t like. Or something you really like. Then I know to do it again next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah…this isn’t some quick romp at a party or outside a concert, sweetheart. I want to make you feel good again.” He pressed a kiss to your lips for emphasis. “And again.” Another kiss to your breast. “And again.” One last kiss against your stomach before he settled himself in the cradle of your thighs, hissing the slightest bit as his hips came in contact with your mattress.

He was throbbing, aching for his own pleasure, eager for a release that he’d been ignoring and denying himself. He shifted and found a little friction, the mattress and his jeans doing just enough to sate him while he took care of another hunger.

Never let it be said that Eddie hadn’t met a pussy that he didn’t think was pretty but you—open for him and wanting--were gorgeous. Tempting. Eddie clicked his tongue as he finally got a good look at you, fluttering with want, dripping with ambrosia.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted more?” He admonished with a smirk, looking up at you with hooded eyes as he settled your leg over his shoulder, nestling in for an extended, more comfortable time. “I wouldn’t have made you wait so long.”

“I didn’t…I…” Your excuse was cut off by your combined moans as he latched onto you, immediately finding the swollen button at the top of your sex. He laved back and forth, teasing you until you whined. The taste of you, the smell of you—the earthy sweetness that bloomed on his tongue and settled at the base of his throat—caused his hips to jerk against the bed and he pulled back a little, eager but ready to let you feel good for as long as he could. He rotated his attention between your clit and your lips and your neglected little hole, kissed and nuzzled and lapped up whatever slick you gifted him. 

Eddie moved his hand from where it was caressing your thigh so he could ramp up the fun. You jumped as he caressed your lips, played with the spit and slick.

“Do you touch yourself honey?” You covered your face. “Didn’t I just tell you that I wanted to hear you? So tell me, do you touch yourself?”

“Yes,” you threw your hands down and grasped the plush comforter.

“Do you think of me?” You nodded. “I can’t hear you. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to touch you? Do you want more?” He blew a soft breath across your thigh and you shivered.

“P-please, more.”

Eddie slid his fingers over you, watched as you shuddered and twitched, basked in your wanton little noises. With his other hand, he shifted slightly and undid his belt and the fly of his jeans, pushing them down just so, so he could rock against the bed, seeking more physical relief. He dove back in with kisses and licks and nips, getting adventurous as he slid a finger into you. You stiffened up for just a moment before he took you to higher heights. 

"Uuhnnnhhh, yes," you moaned breathily. Beautifully. "Right there. Yes!"

The tightness was luxurious and his head spun, imagining what the rest of the night might bring. He could feel you panting, getting closer and closer to your peak. He would get you there. Gladly. Again and again. Over and over until you couldn’t take any more.

“Please!”

“What do you want, honey?”

“Please I’ve—“

“You wanna cum sweetheart.” He grinned against you. “I’ll get you there but you have to beg. Come on.”

"P-please S-Steve!"

Eddie froze.

His ears started ringing. His entire body was numb. He couldn’t…couldn’t breathe. It all came flooding back, the realization, the hatred, the resentment. The want to be with you and the fact that he couldn't.

"W-what's wrong?!" you stammered and pushed yourself onto your elbows to get a better view of him. "What happened?"

Eddie couldn't answer. He could barely look at you.

He pushed your leg off his shoulder, and as he did he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror beside the bed—

The freckled skin, the fluffy hair, the rumpled polo, the hazel eyes staring back at him smugly.

--he couldn't even look at himself.

“Please, talk to me. What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

"I just...I..." he choked at the sound of his voice. But not his voice.

He shook his head and pushed himself off the bed. He ran a hand over his face and ignored the questions that came out of you. He quickly yanked up his jeans and barely fastened them. He ignored the belt.

He quickly turned on his heel and ran out of your room. He jammed his feet into his shoes and fumbled with the jacket he had hung on the coat hook by the door to get his keys. 

Not his keys. 

Steve’s keys. Steve’s car, Steve’s body, Steve’s life, Steve’s love.

Not his.

He let the jacket fall to the floor, abandoned, as he quickly made his escape.

All the while you called and ran after him.

"Steve?! Wait! Steve!!"

Tag List is currently suspended.

Freaky Friday Chapter 5 will be uploaded by Sunday, May 21st at 7pm CST.

[h4rring1on]

hi i love ur stories i was wondering if u could make a story where Eddie breaks up with Y/N because Eddie thinks he is bad influence on u and is afraid that u will turn out like him and when he does Y/N start doing every thing Eddie was afraid of like(smoking,falling school,etc).

hi love!! thank u for requesting! i did change it a bit if that’s okay, i changed it to where he doesn’t tell you why he broke up w you in the beginning, hope that’s okay !! <3

𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦

warnings: angst ig?? fluff in the end, eddie worrying abt u bc he’s a cute sweetheart

pairing: eddie munson x gf!reader, eddie munson x ex!reader

ೃ༄*ੈ✩

eddie sighed as he waited for you to come over, he didn’t know what to think of in this situation

you didn’t know why he wanted you to come over, he just called and asked if you can. you said yes, not really caring why. you didn’t think much of it since he was your boyfriend and you trusted him, so you know he probably just wanted you to come over because he wanted to.

you knocked on the door, waiting for him to open up. once he did, he looked as if he was guilty of something.

“you okay?“ you asked as you walked in, noticing his expression

“i need you to sit down” he said, holding your hand and gently guiding you to the couch. you furrowed your eyebrows, a little concerned.

“what’s…what’s going on?” you asked, he just looked at you, you looked so innocent, so sweet, he didn’t deserve you. he’d just ruin everything. he wasn’t exactly the kid every parent liked, and he was worried you’d start picking up on his bad habits.

“this is gonna be hard to say…but um…” he couldn’t bare to let the words slip from his mouth, he hated this. he loved you. he wanted you. but he cared about you, and he didn’t want you to change for the worse like he did.

“what are you trying to say, eds?” you asked, patience in your tone, how could you be so sweet when he was about to hurt you?

“i think we should break up.” he spat out, you froze in your place. what? what was happening? was this a dream? what.

“what? wha…what are you saying? n—no” you said, a little shakiness in your voice

“this is for the better” he said, he clearly looked like he was trying hard not to show any emotion.

“no it’s not—no—why? what—“

“i’m doing this for you”

“f—for me? what’s for me—i hate this why—did i do something wrong—i’m sorry—eddie please”

“it’s over. we can’t be together anymore.” he said, tears were already streaming down your cheeks, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. why was he hurting you?

you felt like your entire world just shattered right in front of you. eddie was the only one who understood you, he cared about you, he loved you. why was he doing this?

eddie noticed how you were slightly shaking and clearly didn’t look okay, he got closer to you to try and calm you, “hey—hey, y/n—“

“get away—from…me” you said and pushed him away, your voice shaking as you tried to get your breathing back to normal

“hey—“

“i don’t wanna see you again” you said and abruptly got up, tears still streaming down your cheeks as you opened the door and walked out of the trailer. eddie was still following you, your were obviously not okay and he was worried, but you got in your car and drove away, leaving him.

for the next week or so, you weren’t doing okay at all. you were losing your grades and skipping class, you stopped talking to all your friends, you spent almost all your time at school in the forest nearby, sitting there with a joint in your hands.

it was you and eddie’s spot. eddie stopped coming here, but you didn’t. you went everytime, reefer rick was out of jail and was happy to give you the drugs you couldn’t bare to ask from eddie.

it made things a bit better. it made your days pass by like a blur, it made you feel like things weren’t real. because that way, your breakup wasn’t real, right?

eddie noticed everything going on, he stopped seeing you in class, or at lunch, or even with your friends. he asked them about you, and all they said was that they haven’t seen you in quite a while.

he couldn’t find you anywhere, until it occurred to him.

the spot.

he hoped he’d see you there, he was worried really worried.

he got closer and closer to the spot until he finally saw you there. his expression softened at the sight of you

his eyes widened when he saw you take a puff of the joint in your hands. you don’t do drugs. you never do drugs. he knows that.

“y/n?” he spoke up, you froze at the sound of his voice, you couldn’t even turn to see him.

“go away” you said, your voice weak

“not until you drop that joint and talk to me”

“i don’t want to talk to you” you said, still unable to face him

you heard footsteps and felt relieved when he left

“i’ll wait” he said, startling you since his voice was much closer now, turns out he didn’t leave.

he walked in front of you and sat on the ground, his expression turned into a worried one when he finally saw your face, you looked like you haven’t slept in weeks and you clearly weren’t taking care of yourself.

“i’ll wait until you talk to me” he said, his voice lower

you couldn’t even look at him, you looked at the ground and held your hand up to take another puff

he scooted a little closer to you before you could take the puff, “please, y/n. i made a mistake” he said, holding your hand to stop you

you finally looked up at him, you hated this feeling. it hurt just to look at him.

“what do you want” you said, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes

“i’m sorry, im so sorry, y/n. i never wanted to break up with you”

“then why’d you do it!” you yelled, the tears streaming down your cheeks now

“because i was scared!” he yelled, making you go quiet, “i was scared and worried—about you. every—when someone hears about our relationship, the first thing they ask is if you turned or not.”

“what?“ you furrowed your eyebrows

“just—everyone got in my head that if you stay with me—i’ll affect you and i’ll make you do the bad things i do” he sighed, “and i don’t want that” he said, looking down now

“i didn’t want you to be like me—to do drugs and be held back in school and be the town freak. so i thought that—if i left you, you’d stay the good person you are.” he said, sniffling, “but obviously it resulted in the complete opposite and it’s all because of me” he said, his voice cracking in the end

you could swear you saw a tear drop from his eye to the ground, you quickly held his hands, making him look up at you, seeing a tear drop down his cheek, you used your thumb to wipe it away and looked down to both of you twos hands, held together with the blunt still between your fingers

“please don’t take another puff” he said

“don’t worry, i won’t” you said, letting go of one of his hands and throwing the joint somewhere

“i’m sorry” he said

“it’s okay, eddie, i forgive you” you said, lightly smiling at him, you two leaned in closer, and when your lips finally touched, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in closer.

you were at peace again, and safe in his arms.

i feel like this sucked bro :(

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

An Extended Sesh

Pairing: Nara Shikamaru x f!Reader

Summary: Smoking With Shikamaru (fic version). Our lovely reader is going out to her weekly sesh with her pals, but there are a few things about this week that differ from the last.

W/c: 4.4k

Warnings: Fluff. Oui'd. Mary Jo. Reefer. Pot. Cannabis. Shikamaru's got a bit of a dirty mind, but we're all over 18 (RIGHT?), we can take it.

Notes: teehee, i'm a slut for thc and shikamaru - lmk how y'all feel, i implore you - also this fic works as a part 2 if anyone wants a smuttier extension.

Masterlist💿

That smell of the rubbing alcohol as it broke down the thick, black resin that coated your favourite bong permeated the air, putrid and clinging to every inch of your sinus. The down stem and bowl piece were off to the side, soaking in salt and more rubbing alcohol inside of a tied up bag. Gagging, you shook your bong, covering the lip and the mouthpiece.

Nothing was more disgusting. But you had to do it. Not for yourself, you would've been happy just poking holes through the down stem.

It was for that fucking prick.

He always brought his piece to seshes, but lately he'd been bitching about how much of a drag it was to be the only valuable member of the sesh. In all fairness, everyone bought their leaf off of him and you were the only other person in the village to have glass to smoke out of. But that was how you could tell his gripes were targeted.

So, you had to volunteer to bring your piece this week. And, of course, that prick teased you and said that your bong was probably made of glass thinner than a bottle. Like you only had one.

Before he had said that, you had thought to bring Calissa - your thinnest, cheapest bong. But, fuck, the look on his smug, dreamy face, if he were right- you had to bring out the big guns.

Big Bertha was your second-pick, she was a much thicker glass and had strips of crystals blown into her neck. But she was small, and you hated her down stem. Plus, Talia was the prettiest of all - you had to impress Shikamaru.

Letting your chosen piece soak for a second in the bath tub, you moved to shake the bag that the down stem and bowl piece were in. The liquid turned murky as soon as you moved it and you sighed - you thanked the stars for giving you the foresight to scrape them first. You rinsed them out a few times then moved to your bong, that you knew would blow that prick out of the water.

"Alright, Talia," you said to your favourite piece as you dumped the alcohol out of her lip. "Rinse, swish, repeat, then we're outta here."

Once you were finished, you put her down stem and bowl piece back, then wrapped the gorgeous bong in a fluffy towel. It was Talia's designated towel. Her black and gold design stood stark against the white fuzz of the blanket, making you smile a bit as you rolled a corner of the blanket and stuffed it down her neck. You rolled her in the blanket and put her in your bag, the neck peeking out just a tad.

With a deep breath, you threw your grinder, your wallet, a packet of tobacco, and rolling papers into your bag. In the last second, you grabbed one of your nicer decks of cards, just in case, and just to further your position as a valuable member of the sesh.

You left your shabby apartment to meet everyone at the Eastern tree line, just South of Nara Forest.

Standing around was such a drag. Leave it to Kiba to be the one holding everyone up.

"Let's just go, he'll be able to smell us," Choji groaned. Shikamaru had been thinking similarly, but knew he was right in his decision to keep it inside when your frowned deeply.

Mirroring your expression, Ino chided, "That's rude, Choji. Could you imagine how you'd feel if we left you to find us?"

"I'd be fine! I would want you guys to start without me, if I was going to be so inconsiderately late," he argued, crossing his arms.

"We'll wait another minute," Shikamaru interjected derisively. "Kiba will be able to find us."

Though he thought you would be happy with the compromise, you rolled your eyes and went back to talking to Ino and Tenten. Your smile grew as you spoke to them, and Shikamaru watched you gesticulate strangely. The women laughed loudly, and you seemed happy their reactions, until you looked at Shikamaru.

Your eyes glinted with an edge, and your smile faltered for a breath. Quickly, you looked back at Tenten and Ino as they held each other, giggling.

"What's so funny?" Shikamaru asked, trying to seem as casual as possible, striding up to your small group, ignoring the conversation Choji and Shino were trying to loop him into.

"Oh, Y/n was telling us about-" Tenten began, still chuckling.

"Nothing important," you interrupted. The way you avoided his eye piqued his interest.

Ino pushed your shoulder a little and giggled, "We'd leave out the important bits."

"You can't do this to me, Smokey," Shikamaru teased you. Just like he wanted, your eyes snapped to his and he got to see that beautiful bite behind your gaze. He grinned, "C'mon, I know you want to tell me."

Eye twitching, you answered, "Don't call me that."

"Why not, Smokey Bear?"

Oh, you got so deliciously upset every time Shikamaru teased you. He loved poking the proverbial bear, if only to see how your eyes tore him up. You couldn't have been more obvious; he riled you up, and you loved it just as much as he did.

Not taking his bait, you answered his first question, "I was telling the girls about how I spent two whole hours cleaning my bong, because you're such a prick."

Maybe he was hearing things.

"Sounds to me like you put in effort, just to impress me," he asserted confidently, even though he was crumbling on the inside.

Beside you, Tenten and Ino giggled, and Ino leaned into whisper something in your ear, covering her mouth. The three of you got into a whispered conversation, peppered with giggles and scoffs. Shikamaru took a step to the side to digest... your words. Your tone.

Such a prick.

A prick, sure, but such a prick? That seemed unreasonable. How could you think that? Was it the teasing? Shikamaru was in a slight panic, he had always teased you. For years.

"I'm here! I'm here!"

"About fuckin' time!" Choji exclaimed as Kiba ran up to the group. "What took you so long?"

"Akamaru was having an issue with one of Hana's ninken," he explained, trying to catch his breath. Kiba inhaled deeply then smiled at everyone, sparing your group of girls an extra second. "I hope I didn't make you guys wait too long."

"No, no," Ino said kindly, moving to stand nearer to Kiba.

"Yeah, we like watching grass grow," you joked, coming behind the two of them to stand on the other side of Kiba.

Seemly jealous of how closely you and Ino were standing by Kiba, Tenten went to him and took his hand. Kiba looked around at the three women that surrounded him and smiled so broadly that all of his teeth were on display.

Tenten pulled him to her side and started flirting in earnest while taking him into the forest. You walked beside Tenten while Ino walked on the other side of Kiba. His head bounced around to the three of you, clearly getting torn in three different directions.

"I hate him," Shino grumbled.

"Me too," Choji agreed.

"Hatred is an illness," Shikamaru said, beginning to walk into the forest as well.

"Yeah, don't act like you're not one of the afflicted," Choji chided as he and Shino came up on either side of Shikamaru. "We all saw that face you had on after Y/n walked up to Kiba."

"You do psychoanalysis now?"

"Even my bugs saw it," Shino added.

Shikamaru sighed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweat pants. He watched you intensely as you took your bag off your shoulder and gave it to Kiba, thanking him.

Fuck, Shikamaru should've been the one to take your bag. It did look heavy. Maybe he was a prick.

"Perhaps I should sit on this until we're alone-"

"It's not like they're listening," Shikamaru pointed out, immediately interested in what Shino had to say.

"Well," he started, much quieter. Choji leaned over Shikamaru and even Shikamaru leaned in, terribly curious. "I was talking to Kiba the other day at the izakaya... and he said if he were to make a move on one of the girls, it'd be Y/n."

"Grand."

"If he were to, or is he planning to?" Choji asked.

"He's planning on it, if you-" Shino's index found itself in the center of Shikamaru's chest. "-don't step up to bat, soon."

Fuck. And you definitely didn't think Kiba was a prick.

It wasn't even a question in his mind; Shikamaru had to change your opinion of him. As soon as possible.

"Would you rather have sex with a being that has the Fifth Hokage's body and the Third Hokage's head - or... rethatch the entire Academy building?"

"That's disgusting, Kiba!"

"Can I close my eyes in the Fifth-Third situation?" You asked across the circle.

"Nope, eye contact is necessary," Kiba confirmed with a devilish grin. He looked over at Ino pointedly and added, "At least someone understands that we're playing a hypothetical game."

"Okay, who's neck does the being have?" Shikamaru asked, his voice so deep, you could feel the vibration while sitting beside him.

The question made you snicker wildly, having to look away for a second. Kiba repeated, "Neck?"

"Yeah, where's the cut-off," Shikamaru clarified.

You looked back at him and he was smiling so softly that it made you nervous. Cripes, such handsome men were always nerve-wracking. What was he planning?

Shikamaru cleared his throat, looking to Kiba. He shrugged, "It's a fair question."

"Hiruzen-neck," Kiba decided.

"Yeah, give me the roof," the black haired boy yucked. "No amount of tit could distract me from that turkey neck."

As you laughed at his decision, Ino chastised Shikamaru and Kiba for speaking about the Hokages so lewdly. It just made you laugh harder as Tenten blew out her stale smoke.

"I'd say," she coughed. "Give me the being."

"Me too," you agreed with a soft laugh, taking Talia from her. You took up the bowl piece and Shikamaru passed you his grinder before you could pick up yours. You took it hesitantly. "...Thank you."

"No problem," he replied cheerily.

Quickly, you packed a horrifically small bowl and tried to gave him back his grinder.

Shikamaru smiled at you, eyes crinkling so sweetly, as he pushed the grinder back to you. With a beautiful lilt, he chuckled, "Are we rationing?"

"You pack it for me then," you sighed, feeling a little anxious. "I don't want to steal all your weed."

"You could if you wanted to," Shikamaru told you as he took the bowl piece and the grinder from you. By blessing of his grinder being so large, he literally dipped the bowl into the shredded weed and scooped up a lung-buster. With that same sweet smile, he slotted the bowl piece into the down stem and looked deeply into your eyes. "Think you can take it?"

"Y-yeah, I can take it," you exhaled. You snapped back into reality, shaking your head quickly and looking away.

The man sitting beside you couldn't take his eyes off of you as you toked, and your thoughts began bouncing off the walls of your mind.

Oh, something was wrong. Something was off, something had happened.

You just didn't know what.

All you knew was that Shikamaru was suddenly acting all sweet with you.

First, he insisted that he sit with you and Tenten, to help you with Talia. Then, he couldn't stop complimenting Talia. Sure, she was a beautiful piece, but he didn't even make one snide comment, even when you fucking prompted him.

Worse yet, when everyone pooled their money to give to him, Shikamaru had slipped fifty yen back into your pocket without anyone but you noticing. You had tried to give it back, but he argued, and told you that he had overcharged you last week.

What sealed the deal for you was the fact that he wasn't letting you touch your own weed, only his. And no one got to smoke from Shikamaru's personal stash. Ever.

"Everything okay, Smokey?" Shikamaru asked you quietly, everyone else talking about the would you rather question Kiba had posed.

You looked around and remarked how inebriated your friends were. They could never match your tolerance, but Shikamaru could give you a run for your money.

He nudged you, moving a bit closer on the fallen tree that you, he and Tenten were using as a bench. When you looked into his eyes, that glint that boiled your blood was absent, and the corners of his eyes drooped a bit, making Shikamaru look so... kind.

"What's up with you?" You asked finally.

"Me?" He asked, smiling wide. Shikamaru put his hand on his chest and shook his head. "I'm alright, thanks for asking."

"No, you fucking prick," you said. Shikamaru's smile dropped in an instant, where he normally would have laughed. You pointed and asked, "That... why aren't you being my friend right now?"

He seemed at a loss for words. Shaking his head, much more seriously, Shikamaru stuttered, "I- I am... I am your friend. Right?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "You're my friend. So where are the jabs, the taunts? You're so mean, all the time, and it's disconcerting to see you be so nice."

Shikamaru looked down, studying the forest floor. You looked around briefly before you cleared out your stale and passed Talia to Shikamaru.

"Is it Tenten?" You whispered into his ear. Shikamaru gave you a cut eye and you leaned back, nodding. He probably just wanted to make a good impression on her without directly flirting with her. That was fair. Tenten was so pretty. "Okay, I'll keep your secret."

"That's not it," he mumbled, probably thinking of something to deter you from the right track.

"Then what is it?"

Shikamaru looked at you, more emotion on his face than you had ever seen before. And it broke your heart, because he looked so sad.

"Do you wanna know?" He asked. You nodded, and Shikamaru's lip quirked a tad. "Do you really wanna know?" You nodded again. "Do you really really wanna know?"

"Yes, damnit, tell me."

"No," he smirked.

You groaned. What a fucking prick. You knew he was stalling, coming up with something to hide his attraction to Tenten. Stars, he got under your skin so easily, it was like he lived there.

"Let's smoke together, later, just the two of us, and I'll tell you then."

He should invite Tenten to sesh, if he likes her so much, you thought bitterly. You narrowed your eyes at him, but nodded slowly. "Alright, you're on then."

He'd never been so nervous. Never, not once in his life. Jittery, that would have been a great way to describe it. He was absolutely shaking with anticipation. Shikamaru couldn't wait to shake off the others, just to get you alone.

Shino, high as a kite, with a cloud of bugs around him, hung off of Shikamaru's neck as the group made it's way back to the village, walking from the plot of forest just South of the gorgeous Nara woods, then through the Nara compound. Everyone definitely smelled a little, but Shikamaru had brought peppermint oil to mask it. None of his relatives paid his group any real attention, nothing more than a passing glance.

"Let me braid your hair, Y/n," Ino whined at you, running her fingers through your locks.

"It's too short," you weakly argued.

Tenten scoffed on your other side, playing with the ends of your hair, "Shut up."

"Would you let me braid your hair, Y/n?" Kiba asked.

The three of you, having been walking in front, slowed and looked back at the four boys. Shikamaru, not wanting to see how you would smile at Kiba and agree, looked off to one of his aunt's houses.

"Fuck no," you scoffed. Shikamaru looked at you, trying to conceal his joy at your genuinely put-off expression. "Can you even braid hair, Kiba, or are you just putting me on?"

"Ah, I could always learn for you," he flirted.

"I know how to braid," Shikamaru lied. Your eyes shifted to him and softened. Yes.

"What kinds of braids?" You asked. No.

"I- er, the regular one?" Shit, he didn't know there would be a quiz. He thought about his mother, her strange braids, and added, "And... the fish braid?"

"You can fishtail braid?" Tenten questioned, completely disbelieving.

"Like fuck he can," Kiba laughed.

"Show us, Shikamaru!" Ino prompted him.

Fuck sake.

No, he couldn't come clean. He could figure out how to braid right now, with an audience, in front of the woman he'd been pining after for years, even if it seemed like a hard braid. Yeah, sure. Good stars, he needed a miracle.

"Alright, then, I need a model," he said as smugly as possible, looking at you. "Smokey...?"

"Well, this, I have to see," you said, shifting your bag on your shoulder as you walked to a bench on the side of the road.

Shit, he wasn't supposed to let you carry that back. He already neglected to help you with it the first time. Shikamaru was going to carry it back for you, but he took one toke too many to remember, before he was reminded. Cripes, he really was a prick, wasn't he?

Shikamaru stood behind you, sitting Shino down beside you, as Choji and Kiba crowded around him and the girls sat on your other side. Tenten started telling him, "Fishtail is four sections, not-"

"Don't tell him!" Choji cut her off.

Tenten crossed her arms and started watching with everybody as Shikamaru stared at your gorgeous, shining hair. It caught the sun so nicely, it was almost distracting. Slowly, he brought his hands to your hair, gently pulling out a few knots.

"You can be a bit rougher, if you want. I can take it," you said.

Shikamaru bit his tongue and shook his head, though you couldn't see him. Rougher, maybe in the bedroom. Oh, that'd be the day, when he would feel your silken hair and hear you say those same words, but in such a different context.

As carefully and precisely as he could, Shikamaru divided your hair into four sections, like Tenten had said.

Then came the hard part. He hadn't much of a clue what to do.

Well, a braid was just a series of woven plaits, right?

He took the furthest right section and brought it over the center two, then repeated the action with the left. Yeah, okay, that didn't look wrong. Shikamaru pulled it tighter then repeated it, moving the new furthest right second over the two in the middle, then the left. He tightened it, then again, right over two, left over two.

Shit, this wasn't hard at all.

"I should've put money on this," Shikamaru murmured as he neared the ends of your hair.

"I want to put money on the chance that you just learned that on the fly," Tenten laughed, voice full of praise.

Which only made Ino swoon, "Even if he did..."

"Man, I hate you," Kiba said.

There was no music as triumphant to Shikamaru's ear.

But, no one's opinion mattered but yours. As Shikamaru laid the braid over your shoulder, having gone down as far as he could without his fingers fumbling around, he waited with bated breath as you examined it. Seeing you wrap a hair elastic from your wrist around the end made Shikamaru's heart pound in his chest. You ran your fingers up the center, then started pulling at the sides near the top.

Fuck, you hated it.

"What's wrong with it?" Shikamaru asked quickly.

"Nothing," you giggled. Despite your answer, you kept pulling it the braid that Shikamaru was shaking over. "It's really tight, Shikamaru, you did a really good job on this."

He was going to cry. Right in the middle of the Nara compound, in the midst of all of his friends, in front of all of his family.

That sentence alone was like winning the lottery.

"Bet I could do better," Kiba said, trying to steal Shikamaru's moment.

"Well, not on my head, I'm never taking this out," you said to Kiba, standing up from the bench. Shikamaru contained himself, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood. Tenten and Ino both shared your refusal, already having their hair done-up.

The group started moving again, though the order had gotten strange. Kiba and Ino occupied the front, trailed by you and Shino, having been the one to pick him back up, while Choji, Tenten and Shikamaru held the end. Shikamaru was walking right behind you, watching the way your braid- his braid bopped around as you moved.

It was all Shikamaru could do to not steal you away and leave the group. You said you would smoke with him later. Later was now. Shikamaru needed later to be now.

Finally, you gave Shino to Tenten and the two of them peeled away from the group, going in the direction of their neighbourhoods. Choji popped off next, in the direction of the Akimichi compound, and Ino left in the other direction, to the Yamanaka compound.

It left just you, Shikamaru, and Kiba.

"I'm going down to Imanishi in a bit, Y/n," Kiba started boldly. "I'd love it if you came with me."

"Not tonight," you said with a smile. "Shikamaru and I are hanging out."

Kiba looked at Shikamaru over your head. His eyebrow cocked and Shikamaru dipped his head a little, making Kiba smile, but his eyes drooped ever so slightly. He got the message.

"Ah, don't worry about it," he said, speeding up a little. Kiba turned and waved at you and Shikamaru, before saying, much to Shikamaru's chagrin, "If anything ever falls through, you'll know where to find me."

"Whatever you say," you sang, shaking your head with the smallest smile.

Shikamaru gave Kiba a quick two finger salute as he turned back around, continuing on his merry way. Alone at last, Shikamaru took a deep breath, basking in the notes of your fragrance the held in the air around him.

"Your place or mine?"

"My bed's bigger," he murmured, not thinking. Shikamaru's eyes widened as your eyebrows shot up. "I mean for sitting on. Or we could smoke in my living room. My bed doesn't even matter, what?"

"So, your place then."

"Yeah."

"Cool."

"On particularly romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion," you stated, twirling around Shikamaru's open living room.

"And, do answers ever dip you?" He asked, standing from the navy blue couch slowly.

Pattering over with the softest steps, you opened you arms to Shikamaru and he took you in his. He whisked you around the room as if the two of you were standing atop a cloud, though the cold hardwood was tingling your toes. Your eyelids felt heavier as you looked up at him, smiling down at you so gently that you were sure he wasn't aware of the smile.

"Sometimes," you replied. Shikamaru spun you gracefully from the three step, then caught you. He dipped you back lowly, his thick forearm flush to your back, and you giggle, "But they're never real."

"I am," he murmured, pulling you back to your feet. "This is."

"Mhm," you hummed, taking his hand and twirling yourself.

Shikamaru smiled, taking a step to the window while letting his fingers linger, interlocked with yours. When he finally let go, your fingers snapped. Cripes, how could this possibly be real?

"In what flavour does your confusion come?" Shikamaru asked as he sat on the tuffet in front of the window, getting the dab rig ready.

"Rocky Road is my favourite," you answered, your first few dabs clouding the part of your mind that contended with metaphors, sitting on the ground in front of him. "Rum Raisin is pretty good too... ooh, and Pralines and Cream. Mm, can't go wrong."

"Grandmama? Is that you?" He laughed, igniting the torch.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress your laugh as you laid back on the hardwood. Looking at his popcorn ceiling, you sighed, "No one is as big of a hater as you, Shikamaru."

"You should hear what I keep inside," he snorted as he moved the flame around the banger.

"I should, you're right," you said, sitting right back up. Shikamaru smirked at you, eyes glinting playfully, making you feel so warm and welcomed. You grinned, "C'mon then, I know you wanna tell me."

"Do you really think I'm a prick?" He asked suddenly.

You shook your head and shrugged, "Only playfully. Like, I'd trust you to hold my baby, if I had one, but I wouldn't trust you to not draw on my face if I fell asleep first at a party."

"Alright," he nodded, seemingly relieved. "I can't fault you. I'd write my name across your forehead, for sure."

"Cripes, you wanna brand me?" You asked, laughing. Shikamaru bit back a smile, shaking his head and looking at the glass as it started to turn red. You hummed, "That can't be it, I always call you a prick. Tell me what else is inside that big, beautiful brain of yours."

"If this dab goes alright, maybe."

Shikamaru clicked off the torch and quickly gathered up the small pot of butter concentrate the two of you were using. He collected a sizeable pearl and you scoffed, "You plan on keeping your secrets, huh?"

"Just watch the master, sweetheart," he cooed condescendingly.

If you hadn't been so high, that would've sent you on some convoluted diatribe about how mean and prick-ish Shikamaru was. But, as it stood, you had no desire to say anything like that to him. You had no idea how fucking amazing being alone with Shikamaru would be. You had an inkling, but you couldn't have imagined how happy you would be in the moment.

Your previous notion of Tenten being the one he wanted wasn't even a flicker in your mind. That was stupid, wasn't it? Shikamaru wouldn't do all this, just to impress your friend. No, he was trying to impress you.

"Okay, now that I have the floor," you said as Shikamaru started to smoke. He looked at you, lips attached to the dab rig, and quirked his brow. You smiled and continued, "There's totally something up with you. You're being so sweet, and it's not like you're not a good person, or anything like that, but you've got me thinking things that are probably so far from the truth-"

"Like what?" He wheezed, mid-toke, blowing out the first round of smoke before going back to the rig.

You scratched the back of your neck, looking away to one of Shikamaru's book shelves. "Well, y'know, like... you like me. Like, wanna-kiss-me kind of like me."

Shikamaru's face flamed red as he exhaled the second round. You watched as he prolonged his toke, trying to put off his answer.

But he couldn't run out the clock on this one. Putting the dab rig down, Shikamaru looked at you tentatively and asserted slowly,

"I... do... want to kiss you. I've... liked you for... years."

"Well, then..."

"Yeah?"

"Don't be a prick about it," you laughed. "Kiss me."

[dallasgallant]

Tough Slang |

I’ve been watching a lot of delinquent movies (I have recs) lately and I’ve started to collect the slang common in them. This is a “dictionary” that’s useful for writing but I’d still recommend looking up period or group specific slang yourself too, consider this a starting guide.

Primarily 50s-60s , mixed with general slang and relevant words.

Baby: Term of endearment [also used in Gay context]

Backseat bingo: Making out

Beat it: Go away

Belted: Beaten; Hurt

Bent car: Stolen car

Bit: Job; Robbery plan

Blade: Knives [typically switchblade]

Blast: Good time

Bop: Kill

Boss: Liked man of authority

Box job: Safe cracking

Break it up: Stop fighting

Broad: Woman

Bug: Bother

Bugging: Freaking out; Tripping

Bulls: Cops

Bum: To get by asking or begging; Vagrant

Bunk: Sleep with ; Share a prison cell

Candy ass: Coward

Can opener: Tools capable of breaking open safe

Can: Prison

Cheese it: Stop what you’re doing; Look out

Cherry: Good looking/condition [typically a car, sometimes a person]

Chicken: Coward

Cool it: Calm down

Cooler: Prison

Con: Convict; Swindle

Copped: Had the cops called on; Ratted out

Cranked: High; Drunk

Crash: Stay/sleep at someone’s place

Crazy: Deranged ; Enthusiastic about something

Cut the gas: Get to the point; shut up

Deck: Box of ciggerettes; To punch

Dibs: Laying claim on something

Dig: to understand; to like something

Dive: Low down place

Flat: Broke

Flip: Panic

Freak out: Wild/irrational reaction or behavior

Fry: Executed by electric chair

Fuzz: Police

Gas: Fun or cool

Get bent: Get lost; Go fuck yourself

Get lost: Go away

Greaser: Young man with greased hair, usually of lower class , gang affiliation or juvenile delinquent

Hang: Gather together with no expressed purpose

Hang loose: Relax; Take it easy

Happenin’: Exciting/Lively/Busy ; With the times

Heat: Police

Heater: Gun

Headshrinker: Shrink; therapist

Hip: With it; Understand; Cool

Hoodlum/hood: Trouble maker; Criminal

Jam: in trouble; Cram something

JD: Juvenile delinquent

Jive: Agree with someone

Jug: Prison

Jumped: Attacked without warning; Beaten

Keen: Eager; Enthusiastic

Lay off: Leave alone

Lifer: Someone serving a life sentence

Loaded: Drunk; Armed [Depending on context]

Lone it: Do something on ones own

Loiter: Stand or wait around without purpose; hang out

Man: Colloquialism for emphasis or familiarity 

Neato: Neat; Excellent; Exciting

Nance: Efféminent guy/Gay

Pack: Carry some sort of weapon

Pad: Where someone lives

Pansy: Efféminent guy/Gay

Paper shaker: Cheerleader

Pops: Affectionate term for an older man

Punk: Hoodlum

Rat: to tell on

Reefer: Weed; Marijuana

Rod: Gun

Rumble: Organized fight

Scram: Go away

Scum: Despicable person

Shiner: A black eye

Sock: Punch

Skin: Fight with no weapons

Slug: Bullet ; Hit

Stay cool: Remain calm ; control yourself

“Give some skin”: High five or handshake

Spill: Tell information

Split: Leave ; Get out fast

Square: Uninteresting person; Someone never in trouble with law

Stuck: Stabbed [in context]

Sucker : Gullible person; Someone who was conned

Swingin’ : Exciting ; Hip ; throwing punches [in context]

Tanked: Drunk

“The man”: Figure of authority keeping systems in place [Oppressive] ; One who maintains status quo

Turf: Territory

War council: Meeting between organized gangs to work out issues or plan a fight

Waste: Kill

Weed: Cigarette

Whipped: Beaten

[acewritesfics]

Skinny Dipping | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: from anon

Warnings: a small mention of being high. Poor description of getting naked

Word Count: 809

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It was date night for Eddie and Y/N. They had gone out for dinner and a movie, and now Y/N is wrapped in Eddie’s arms in the back of his van on the property of his drug supplier. Reefer Rick was currently in prison, but he didn’t mind Eddie using his home. He had trust in Eddie, his most dependable and reliable dealer. The back doors were opened wide, revealing a stunning view of Lovers Lake. 

The lake is illuminated by the full moon, making the small waves glisten like diamonds. The summer heat had them both hot and sweaty. They’d been silent for the last ten minutes, just soaking up each other’s presence as they came down from their highs, Metallica playing quietly in the background. 

Y/N is staring out at the lake, her hot, sweaty back pressing up against his equally hot, sweaty chest. At this point, the black crystal water was inviting her in. She’s annoyed with herself for not thinking to bring a swimsuit. But then she has a lightbulb moment. It was not something she had considered before, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

She pulls away from Eddie, causing her favorite metal head and Dungeon Master to groan. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, slightly frowning in confusion as she climbs out of the van and away from him. “Where are you going?” 

She smirks and turns to face him as she reaches behind her to unzip her skirt. She responds, letting her skirt drop to the ground and stepping over it, “For a swim.” 

“There’s nothing for us to swim in,” Eddie states the obvious. 

“I know,” she smirks, her top quickly joining her skirt, leaving her in deep red lace underwear and a matching bra. She knows it’s Eddie’s favorite set . While she reaches behind her back to unclip her bra, he raises an eyebrow and licks his top lip like he always does when he’s considering something, as he takes her all in. 

“Are you going to join me or sit there and stare at me like some pervert?” she teases, sliding the bra straps down her arms as she removes the lacy garment. 

“I’m a pervert only for you.” He leaps from the van and pulls her into his arms, kissing her vehemently. “I can’t let my girl go in the water by herself,” he murmurs against her lips. 

She returns his kiss with a giggle and runs her hands under his Iron Maiden shirt, his Hellfire Club one being among the dirty laundry in his room. They break the kiss just long enough for Y/N to lift Eddie’s shirt off him. As soon as his shirt hits the ground with her clothing, he hastily returns his lips to hers. She takes his belt off and undoes his jeans as he kicks off his shoes. She pulls his jeans and underwear away from his hips. He shuffles out of them, brushing his rough hands against her soft skin and hooking his fingers into the side of her underwear, pulling them down her legs. 

She takes a step out of her underwear and kicks them to where their clothes are. She smirks as she ends the kiss. “I’ll race you to the water.” 

She doesn’t give him time to prepare as she sprints for the water. As she steps into the lake, the cold water instantly cools her down. She lets out a surprised gasp and laughs as Eddie lifts her up and carries her deeper into the water. As the water gets deeper, she wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. 

Eddie kisses her again, this time softly, as they both float in the water, wrapped in each other’s arms. She had never looked more beautiful to him. Her eyes glistened like the water around them; a bright smile formed on her lips; her skin was shiny and smooth; and the expression on her face was one of pure happiness. 

“I fucking love you so much,” he says, his voice soft and meaningful, his big beautiful brown eyes locked on hers. He had never felt such love before they started dating. It always surprises him that someone like her could love him back. They started dating in his first senior year, which was also her senior year. He couldn’t understand why she had stayed with him for so long. 

He was a third-year senior, the town’s freak, because he didn’t conform to what society expected of him. He was a drug dealer, a fantasy nerd, and a rebel. He had no idea what she saw in him, despite the fact that she had told him numerous times why she loved him. 

“I love you too, Eddie,” she responds, kissing him. 

The rest of their night was spent in total and utter bliss. 

[multifandombitxh]

Name Calling

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst/Smut

Warnings: Foreplay, teasing, jealous!Eddie, very light smut, caught-in-the-act type shit

A/N: Back story is the reader was friends with Eddie before high school, but became closer with Steve, and Eddie hated his guts for it. Reader was also kinda friends with Reefer Rick, which is a slightly important plot point. Takes place when they find Eddie at Rick's house ✨

Summary: Eddie and the reader really, really fucking hate each other, that was obvious to anyone with eyes. They were friends once upon a time, but when Steve Harrington came into the picture, everything fell apart. Now, as the reader tries to help Eddie hide from cops, she finds an interesting way to keep them entertained.

18+ MINORS DNI

"What the hell is she doing here?"

"Um, saving your dumb ass, obviously? No need to thank me, Munson, really."

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you know what? I have had it with you and your attitude-"

A chorus of groans filled the boathouse, the murky lake water splashing against the boat as Eddie stood. You had taken several steps closer toward him, but was forced to stop when Steve all but threw himself in between you both like a lion tamer. By now Eddie had stepped out of the boat and was making his way toward you, despite the fact that Steve stood directly in the way.

This wasn't going to end well.

"Okay, maybe now isn't the best time to be fighting," Robin said, a worried expression painting her features. "Like, maybe we should focus on what to do next? Something productive?"

"I can think of a few productive things I could be doing right now," You said through your teeth. "Several hundreds of miles away from here, preferably."

"Maybe you should go do them, then," Eddie replied, tilting his head to the side and pointing a finger to Steve's chest. "You can take your little guard dog with you, too."

"Really, dude?" Steve muttered, focusing his eyes on Eddie and shoving his hand away. "That's the best you can come up with? 'Guard dog'? What are you, twelve?"

"Sorry, should I have said 'mutt' instead?" Eddie antagonized, getting up close and personal with Steve. "Or maybe 'bitch' would be more fitting."

"Okay, you're done," Steve said curtly, giving Eddie a slight shove backward. "You really wanna do this right now? I will knock you straight into next year, freak, I swear-"

"Guys, come on, seriously?" Dustin yelled, "No one gives a shit that you hate each other. Y/N, we're here to help Eddie, not make things worse. Eddie, Y/N agreed to help. And Steve, stay out of it. So all of you shut the hell up and get over yourselves! We have bigger problems right now than your stupid love lives."

"Love lives?" You, Eddie, and Steve shrieked in unison as you whipped around to shoot him a look of disgust.

"Okay, bad wording," Dustin corrected, "But my point still stands, you three need to knock. it. off."

After holding a heated stare with Eddie for a few moments, you broke eye contact and spun around, exiting in a huff through the creaky wooden door into the cool night air. Steve followed soon after, hot on your heels. When he finally caught up to you, he grabbed you by the wrist to stop you in your tracks.

"Come on, Y/N," Steve said softly, shaking his head. "Look, I'd love to knock that prick on his ass, but we came here to help, didn't we?"

"I did want to help," You replied, "But he clearly doesn't want it if it's coming from me."

"I don't get it," Steve sighed, "What's his deal? Why do you two hate each other so much? And what the hell is his problem with me?"

"I don't know, Steve, maybe it's because in high school, I started hanging out with you instead of him, and he never wanted to even think about sharing the same air as you," You replied, "Will you just find me when you're ready to leave?"

With that, you pulled away from Steve, making your way back to the car. You leaned against the warm hood and took several deep breaths, watching the lake that shimmered behind the boathouse. It was humid out, enough to make you break out in a sweat as you waited for the others to return. When they finally did, they began piling in the car, and when you tried to join them, Steve stopped you for the second time that night.

"I want you to stay here," He said quietly, his gaze intense.

"You're joking," You scoffed, "You want me to stay here? Are you insane, Harrington? After the shit that he just pulled?"

"You knew this Reefer Rick guy, right?" Steve asked.

"Well, yeah, a little, but-"

"Then you're the only person who can stay behind without it looking suspicious," He explained. "We need someone to keep an eye out for anyone looking for Eddie, and if they find you instead, it'll make sense that you're here. Look, I don't wanna leave you here with the guy, but it's our best chance of keeping people from finding him."

"Don't make me stay here with him, Steve," You almost whined, "Please, don't leave me here."

"We'll be back in the morning, okay?" He reassured, pulling his keys out of his pocket. "I promise."

As Steve climbed in his car and drove off into the night, you stood on the edge of the road, fighting the urge to scream up at the sky.

"I should've stayed home," You sighed before turning heel and walking back to the boathouse. Eddie was waiting for you inside, leaning back against a shelf and staring at the doorway like he'd been expecting you to walk through any minute. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his weight shifted to one side and a scowl on his face.

"Look, I don't wanna be here anymore than you do," You said as you entered, "So I'll make this quick. I'm not doing this because I like you, I'm doing this because they do. I'll be in the house."

"Good, awesome, stay there," Eddie replied, "I don't wanna hear from you again unless it's important."

"Oh, that reminds me, I do have something important to tell you," You said in a mock-cheerful voice. Making your way over to him, you got as close to him as you could without being on top of him. Eddie raised a suspicious eyebrow at you, then you flipped the bird in his face.

"Very mature, Y/N," Eddie said, rolling his eyes. "When are you gonna grow up, huh?"

"I'll grow up when you grow a pair, Munson," You replied with a sickeningly sweet smile.

Turning to make your exit, you left the boathouse in a hurry, walking up the dark driveway to the backdoor and entering the house. Dust kicked off of the door as it opened, making you cough. Stepping inside, you sneezed a few times before finally getting a good look at the place. You'd never actually been inside Rick's house before, just out back to hang out and smoke.

It was kind of a dump.

Walking to the kitchen, you opened several cabinet doors before finding glasses. Plucking one off of the shelf, you rinsed it off in the sink and filled it with water, gulping it down and setting the glass to the side. You took a deep breath in and held it for a moment before releasing it, closing your eyes and praying for this all to end soon.

You made yourself comfortable in the living room, sitting on the old couch and coughing again as a small cloud of dust filled the air. You sat up and dusted the couch off as best as you could before laying down across the cushions and closing your eyes. Within minutes you felt sleep overcoming you, which wasn't much of a surprise given recent events. For the first time in days you allowed yourself a moment to rest.

After a few hours of tossing and turning and waking up to every little noise, the sound of the back door opening made you jolt awake. Eddie walked through the doorway, making eye contact with you and quickly looking away. You watched as he made his way down the hallway nearby, opening a door and closing it loudly behind him. Sighing, you sat up straight and crossed your legs, now wide awake. It was beginning to get light out, a deep blue sky peaking through the windows and illuminating the walls. You reached out to the side table to turn on a lamp, the warm yellow light brightening up the cold room. The sound of running water came from down the hall followed by the sound of the door swinging open and a light switch being flipped.

At least now you knew where the bathroom was.

"Sleep well?" Eddie asked, leaning over the back of the couch to look down at you.

"Would be better with some peace and quiet," You muttered. Eddie rolled his eyes and rounded the corner of the couch, coming to sit beside you and crossing his own legs on the cushions.

A long, uncomfortable silence grew between you, making you toy with the fabric of the couch to try and occupy your mind. Eddie was sitting dangerously close to you, close enough that your knees touched. The longer the silence carried out, the more restless you became.

"Can I ask you something?" Eddie asked, breaking the silence.

You shrugged. "I have a feeling you will anyway even if I say no, so shoot."

"Did you know?" He questioned, his words slow and drawn out. "Did you know about this... Upside Down stuff? I mean, the Demodogs and shit, whatever Dustin called them."

"Yeah, I knew," You sighed, leaning back into the cushions more. "I really wish I didn't, but I knew."

"How do you deal with it?" Eddie asked quietly. When you looked over at him his eyes were fixated on nothing, his lips pursed in a thin line and skin looking paler than normal. "I mean, how do you even sleep at night knowing that shit is out there?"

"I don't," You scoffed, "Or I try not to think about it."

Eddie shook his head. "I just don't get it, man."

"None of us do, welcome to the club," You said, gently slugging him on the back of his shoulder. "Speaking of the club, what the hell was all that back there? You seriously wanted to fight Steve Harrington?"

"I didn't want to," Eddie said, "But I was ready to."

"You are impossible," You sighed, standing from the couch. "I don't get it, Eddie. You were my best friend. What do you have against Steve that made it so hard to be around me anymore?"

"For starters, he's an asshole," He replied with a chuckle, "Secondly, you never heard the way he talked about you when you weren't around. I was stuck in classes with him all the time his Senior year and it was miserable."

"Yeah? What did he say?" You asked, your interest piqued as you turned to face him. You crossed your arms over your chest and chewed on your lower lip, wondering if Eddie was telling the truth, or just trying to get a reaction out of you.

"I don't even want to repeat the things he said about you, Y/N."

Eddie's words hung heavily in the air, making you shift uncomfortably. "Can you at least give me a rough idea?"

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, a somewhat devious look hiding behind his gaze. He stood from his place on the couch, moving closer to you until he was so close you had to start backing up to keep some space between you. His hands were shoved in his front pockets, head cocked to one side as he kept advancing on you.

"You really wanna know?" He asked, his tone low and rough. You nodded as he kept backing you further and further away, swallowing hard. It was becoming more and more difficult to differentiate whether or not you were infuriated with him, or absolutely enchanted by him. Something in the air had shifted the second he stood up, and was ever changing as he closed in on you.

"If you really want to know," Eddie started, wetting his lips. "His favorite thing to talk about was how he couldn't help imagining how cute you would look sitting in his lap. Sometimes he'd talk about your pretty mouth, and how he always wondered if it can do more than just talk too fucking much."

"He did not say that, quit making shit up," You snorted. Your back collided with the wall behind you, gently knocking the air out of your lungs. With nowhere left to go, you watched as Eddie stood before you, placing both hands on either side of you on the wall, trapping you between his arms.

"He didn't, but I'm sure he wondered," Eddie went on, "I mean, who wouldn't? I'm sure he wondered about what you looked like writhing underneath him, too. Or maybe he couldn't stop thinking about what you sounded like while you're riiiight on the edge. I'd bet money that he's gotten off to the idea of you cumming so hard around him that you can't even think straight."

"Are we... still talking about Steve?" You asked in a small voice. Your entire body felt hot, like there was a fire lit under your skin that you couldn't seem to put out. It was hard to convince yourself that you didn't want him to rip your clothes off and have his way with you with the way he was staring you down.

Eddie leaned in, grabbing your chin between his fingers to pull you closer, the tip of his nose touching yours. "What do you think?"

With that, the gap between you closed, your lips meeting in the middle and your bodies melding together. You were basically putty in his hands, which were gripping your waist so tightly you thought your ribs might snap. His mouth moved against yours in a perfect rhythm as he turned his head slightly to the side to deepen the kiss. Your hands had made themselves at home by gripping the front of his jean vest, knuckles going white as he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

The longer he held you up against that wall, the harder it became to slow your breathing. His touch was overwhelmingly intense, leaving you a breathless, gasping mess at his mercy. While one part of you desperately wanted him to have his way with you, another part of you couldn't help thinking back on all of the ways he had hurt you in the past, or made you angry, or treated you like his enemy rather than someone he was once friends with. You decided to use that anger, letting one hand drift up to his tangled hair. Gripping his curls tightly you gave them a harsh tug, eliciting a deep growl from Eddie.

His mouth abandoned yours when you pulled his hair, his eyes drifting open slowly and revealing a look of pure sin that made you shiver. Your mouth hung slack as he stared you down, your breath mingling with his and a jolt of excitement shooting through you. The hands on your waist drifted down to your hips and under your shirt, his fingertips sinking into your skin. You hissed as his rings made contact, the metal cold against your warm flesh.

"That's how it's going to be, huh?" Eddie asked, yanking you forward and grinding your hips into his.

"That's how it's always been, Munson."

Eddie emitted another harsh growl that mingled with soft laughter on its way out. You felt a familiar wetness pool inside your jeans at the sound he made alone, your arousal growing stronger when his lips collided with yours again in a heated, hungry kiss. Everything about the exchange felt intoxicating; the warmth of his hands sliding up your back beneath your shirt, the soft moans he let out through his nose as he kissed you, the way his bangs tickled your face. Everything was overwhelming and you couldn't keep it together anymore.

You wrapped your arms around Eddie's neck, effectively closing any space that remained between your bodies. He sighed into the kiss, pulling you away from the wall and moving you backwards until you found yourself in the hallway. He broke the kiss and grabbed you by the hand, guiding you down the hallway to an empty bedroom. A full-sized bed sat in the middle of the room, white sheets and blankets a mess and the pillows scattered about. It was a staunch reminder that you were in someone else's home.

"Eddie, I don't know about this," You said hesitantly, turning to face him. "I don't think Rick would appreciate us sleeping in his bed."

"Sweetheart, the last thing we'll be doing in this bed is sleeping," Eddie breathed in your ear, "What Rick doesn't know won't hurt him."

With that, Eddie gave you a gentle shove backwards, making you fall onto the disheveled bed. While you were busy finding your bearings, he climbed on top of you, making himself at home between your legs. His large belt buckle- a handcuff, how fitting- gently brushed over your clothed clit, making you gasp softly. You bit your lip to try and stifle the noises you wanted to make as he carefully pressed himself against you, the hardness in his jeans making it very difficult to concentrate on anything else. He let out a soft chuckle above you, making you very aware of the advantage he had over you currently.

"What's the matter?" He asked in a taunting voice, "Having a hard time imagining Steve in my place?"

"Oh for Christ's sake, I never wanted Steve," You snapped, slightly annoyed as you sat up on your elbows. "I don't know where the hell you even got that idea from."

"What do you want, then?" He asked. His eyes were lidded and dark as he stared down at you like he was ready to pounce on you any moment.

"I want you, Eddie."

"Do you... really wanna do this?" He asked, his tone a little more serious this time. You took note of the way his eyebrows turned up at the inner corners, a concerned look flooding his features as if he was realizing for the first time what he was doing.

"Yes," You said with confidence, "Yes, Eddie, I want this."

With the green light, Eddie was on you in moments, capturing your lips in yet another hot kiss as he ground his hips into yours, forcing a long, drawn out moan out of you that was muffled by the kiss. His mouth left yours to trail sloppy, wet kisses down the side of your face, to your jaw, before attaching to your neck. One of his hands was resting on the other side of your neck, his fingertips brushing against your jaw while he worked on marking your throat with his tongue and teeth. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a shaky breath, raising your hips up off of the bed to try and gain some friction where you desperately needed it most.

Eddie took the hint and used his body weight to force you back down into the mattress, his cock pressed flush up against you. Electricity shot up your spine at the sensation, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you threw your head back into the scratchy blanket. Eddie carried on grinding into you as he pushed your shirt up your torso, revealing your bra to him and making you tremble as his fingertips brushed your delicate skin.

"How cute," He said with a small smile, toying with the fabric. "You wear this little number for me?"

"In your dreams, Munson. I didn't even know I'd be seeing you today when I put this on," You shot back, rolling your eyes at him.

"You knew you'd be seeing Steve, though," Eddie said, drawing out his words. "Did you wear this to impress him, sweetheart?"

"God, when are you gonna stop talking about Steve?" You asked impatiently, sitting up on your elbows again to give Eddie a deadly glare.

"I'll stop talking about Steve when you start proving to me you don't want him," Eddie replied, a toothy grin on his face. "So far, I'm not convinced. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you started screaming his name instead of mine when I fuck you senseless here in a minute."

Your breath got caught in your throat. Was his always this... Perverted? You weren't even sure if that was the right word for it. Either way, he had a way with words, and without even knowing it, he had talked you into doing exactly what he wanted. Accepting the challenge, you shoved Eddie off of you, forcing him onto his back and swapping your positions. He sat up straight as you rested your legs on either side of his hips, sitting in his lap and kissing him hard.

Soft laughter echoed in his chest as you took control, all but ripping his vest and leather jacket from his body and tossing them to the floor. Eddie slipped his hands under your shirt again, lifting it over your head and discarding it with his jacket. His hands trailed from your collarbones and over your breasts, still concealed by your bra. You sighed into the kiss as he squeezed hard over the material, grinding down against him and smiling at the choked noise that came from his throat.

By now the sun was beginning to come up, and you guessed it was likely early dawn, maybe around seven. Eddie all but tore his shirt away, tossing it into clothing purgatory. An overwhelming need washed over you as he unhooked your bra then reached out to gently stroke your hardening nipple with the pad of his thumb. His lower lip was pulled between his teeth, a look of pure concentration painting his features, eyes glued to your exposed chest.

"You just gonna stare, or are you gonna do something?" You asked, eyeing him down and flinching when he gently pinched the tip between his thumb and index finger.

"You have no idea what I'm going to do to you, Y/N," Eddie sighed out, tearing his gaze away from your naked chest to look you in the eye. "Not a clue."

"Then maybe you should shut up and do it already," You replied, eliciting a toothy grin from him. As if something inside of him snapped, he was quick to move you out of his lap and onto your back again, harshly pulling your jeans from your legs, leaving you only in your underwear. The cool morning air hit the soaked fabric, making you shiver.

Eddie latched onto one of your nipples with his mouth, his tongue circling the tip softly. You couldn't help moaning and arching your back off the bed, letting your eyes flutter closed to enjoy the sensation. When his ringed fingers slipped past the waistband of your panties and glided over your opening, you whined noisily, your hips moving against your will. He still had yet to touch you where you really, truly wanted him to, and it was going to make you lose your senses.

"Eddie, please," You whispered, twirling a strand of his hair around your finger.

"'Please' what, sweetheart?" Eddie asked teasingly, looking up at you through his lashes. "You're gonna have to do better than that to get what you want."

"Please touch me," You sighed, every ounce of dignity evacuating your body and brain. All you cared about in that moment was Eddie; his hands, his lips, his stupid, shit-eating grin, everything was Eddie. Nothing else mattered, you just wanted him, and nothing else.

"Is that what you want?" He asked, "You want me to do this?"

As he spoke, his finger began circling your clit, egging a groan from you as he finally gave you what you'd been craving. Based on your reaction, Eddie seemed to give in, pressing more firmly against the nerve and spreading around the wetness found there. It was even harder to hold back now as your mouth fell open in a loud, breathy moan. As he kept up a steady pace stroking you, you couldn't seem to stop the noises that came out of your throat, broken curse words high-pitched whines filling the air. A moan of his own found its way out as he touched you, bringing his finger to his lips and sticking it in his mouth. His eyes were locked with yours in a heated glare as he sucked your juices off of his finger. The sight alone was enough to make your jaw drop.

"Oh my god, seriously, you two?"

Steve's voice startled you both, making you instinctively cover your bare torso with the blanket. He was standing in the doorway, a vase in one hand and an annoyed look on his face. Eddie helped cover you up, shooting Steve a look that could kill.

"Steve, what the hell?" You yelled back.

"I told you we would be back, don't give me that shit. I thought someone found you guys," Steve replied, looking anywhere that wasn't at you. "Would you two knuckleheads please just get dressed and meet us outside? Jesus Christ."

With that, Steve slammed the door shut, leaving you and Eddie in silence. You pulled the blanket up over your face, groaning into the fabric and squeezing your eyes shut. Eddie slipped under the blanket as well, trailing kisses up your middle until he reached your face. You opened your eyes and stared up at him, your lower lip stuck out in a soft pout. He smiled down at you and placed a long, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling back. He placed one hand on your cheek, his thumb gently stroking the skin there.

"Harrington can wait another five minutes. I'm not done."