#only the thought of eddie curled around me helps me sleep

[eddiexmunsn]

.

[munsonsmixtapes]

You Can Have Me

virgin!Eddie x fem!reader

summary: Eddie decides that he's finally ready for his first time

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)

part one part two

Rain pattered against Eddie's trailer as the two of you were lying on his bed. He was on top of you, your lips connected in a very messy make out session. His lip swiped along your bottom lip and for once, he actually felt like he was ready to take it to the next level. He was ready to finally sleep with you, knowing that you were the only person who was capable of truly understanding him. Of making him feel the way he deserved for his first time.

He pulled away from you, his eyes glazed over, his hair an absolute mess from where your fingers had been holding onto it, running through it, pulling on it until moans fell from his mouth.

He gave you a look that you were somehow able to decipher, furrowing your eyebrows as if to ask him if he was sure. And even if he wasn't, you were more than happy to stop if he was uncomfortable. You knew how important it was to him and were determined to make it special for him.

"Eddie...are you sure?" You asked, sitting up and he followed, not straddling your waist. You hands then took his, pressing a kiss to each one. "I want you to be sure."

"I am," he nodded. "I'm ready."

He climbed off of you so you could grab a condom from your purse then tossed to the side of the bed before pulling him in for another kiss. You hands moved to the buttons of your cardigan and you slowly unbuttoned them as Eddie removed his shirt.

Your shirt fell onto the bed behind you and Eddie pulled you closer, his hands moved to your back, his fingers undoing your bra as his tongue swirled around yours. It fell between your bodies and you tossed it aside before helping him lie on his back.

Together, you unbuttoned his jeans before he removed them completely so now he was only in his underwear and now you could see his rock hard cock tenting in it. He slowly pushed them down his waist and you could stop staring at his now free cock.

You let your eyes rake over his body, feeling honored that you were the only one that he wanted to see him naked. You never thought you would have been his first, but now it just made sense to you, not that you were expecting it. You were his best friend, the one person who knew him in ways that no one else did.

You rolled the condom onto him before lining yourself up with him before you settled yourself onto his cock. He let out a noise as soon as he was inside you and you couldn't help but think that he was the hottest sound he had ever made. It was hot and breathy and almost sounded like a moan.

Your hands rested on his shoulders as you leaned down, looking him directly in his brown eyes. The were still glazed over, his pupils blown wide as a smile curled up at the corners of his mouth.

"Let me know if I do something you don't like or even if you're not having a good time. This is all about you tonight, okay?"

"Okay," he nodded and his hands moved to your waist as you began to ride him, taking it as slow as you good, wanting him to get comfortable with it before you picked up your pace.

His eyes shut tight as he let out a loud moan, his fingers, curling into your hips. You watched him come undone underneath you, already taking a mental picture of what he looked like, his hair splayed out on the pillow underneath his head, his very pink cheeks, his eyes shut tight, and his mouth wide open as he let out moan after moan.

He was already close, but he didn't want that to be the end of it. He wanted to keep going as long as you would've had him, wanting to go for as many rounds as possible, going into the late night and early morning.

You had barely even done anything and it was already everything he had dreamed of, doing it with someone he cared about who seemed to actually want him in the way he wanted them. It was all perfect and he only had you to thank for it.

You leaned down, pressing your lips to his kiss bitten ones, slowly moving down so that they were right by his ear.

"Look at you, taking me so well. You're doing great."

"Really?" He asked, bucking his hips towards yours and you pulled back to smile at him before moving back to his ear.

"Really," you replied, bringing his earlobe between your teeth and giving it a soft bite before diffusing it with a suck.

He let out another moan and continued to buck his hips against yours, wanting to make you feel as good as you were making him feel. And that was when he had a feeling that he only really got when he was alone. He knew that his orgasm was building and decided that he didn't care how loud he was as he let out a scream, his back arching as he did so.

His hips bucked one more time as everything was getting to him. He was getting tired and the two of you had barely even done anything. He felt dizzy, but that didn't mean he wanted to stop. He wanted to keep going until you weren't able to walk.

"Getting tired, hm?" You asked as you slowed your pace even more.

"No," he slurred. "Not at all."

"I think you're getting tired. How about this? How about we take a nap then we can pick up where he left off? If you want, you can be on top next time."

"Deal," he replied and you climbed off of him before disposing of the condom.

You then helped him get under the covers before getting in beside him, pulling him to your chest then pecking his lips. You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair, knowing that it was the best way to help him fall alseep while you laid there, hoping that he enjoyed his first time just as much as you did.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A family thing

Written for the September pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles blog

Prompt: Anniversary

Rated: T

Tags: Post-Vecna; Everybody lives; Recovery; Disabled Eddie; POV Wayne Munson; Good uncle Wayne Munson; Implied sexual content; Domestic fluff; Found family

The sounds coming from the kitchen pull Wayne from his sleep much earlier than he'd like after a night shift. He lies awake for a while, cursing the government. Sure, they covered Eddie’s medical bills and bought them the new trailer, but would it have killed them to get one with thicker walls? He doesn't need to hear everything the boy gets up to. 

He's almost managed to drift off again when a clatter and a string of swear words make him shoot upright. He barrels out into the corridor that separates the living space from the bedrooms, almost colliding with Steve, who has just barged from Eddie’s room. His eyes are bleary, his hair a tousled mess. He's wearing boxers and a familiar guitar pick necklace, and that is it. 

“Ed?” Wayne asks, ignoring how Steve freezes at the sight of him. “What happened?” 

Eddie, on the kitchen floor in a heap of gangly limbs and fallen crutches, groans. “Wayne! You weren't supposed to wake up.” 

“Yeah, you're making that kinda hard,” Wayne mumbles, eyeing the shattered plates and spilled food on the ground. Toast and bacon and pancakes. There's something stuck in Eddie’s hair that looks like scrambled eggs. 

“What the hell?” Steve mutters, bridging the few steps into the kitchen and dropping into a crouch beside Eddie. Wayne stays where he is and watches. The way Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist to pull him up, careful not to hurt him. How Eddie slings bony arms over Steve’s shoulders, fingers grazing the scars on the boy's back. 

“Why didn't you ask me for help?” Steve asks. The rising sun basks the kitchen in oranges and golds, and for a second, Wayne is overcome by the thought that he mustn't blink, or they'll vanish. “I could've-” 

“What, on this highest of holidays?” Eddie asks, gesturing dramatically as Steve lowers him into one of the kitchen chairs. “Have you no respect for tradition? It is my responsibility and my duty to do this alone.” 

Steve blinks, then looks over at Wayne. 

“Okay? I don't get it.” 

Eddie cackles, gently pushing him aside to beckon Wayne closer. 

“Happy Uncle's Day!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Wayne grumbles, bending at the hip so that Eddie can hug him, but there's an annoying sting behind his eyes. For a moment all he can think is how close he came to losing all of this.

“What the fuck is Uncle's Day?” Steve asks. He's eyeing the calendar on the wall like he's expecting it to spout an extra holiday. 

Eddie scoffs. “Only the most important holiday of the year? You need to stay up to date on-” 

“When Ed was nine years old,” Wayne explains, making his way over to the coffee pot, “he came home one day, seething and spitting venom, ‘cause his teacher had them making Father's Day cards.” 

“Why would I be making that asshole a fucking card?” Eddie grumbles. A pink blush has erupted from the collar of his shirt, but Wayne isn’t sure if it's because of the childhood story or because of the way Steve has pulled out the chair next to his and is finger-combing bits of egg from his curls. “The only thing I should've given him is a kick in-” 

“That's exactly what he said back then,” Wayne says, pouring himself a cup and leaning against the counter. “So we came up with an idea.” 

Steve frowns at Eddie. “Uncle's Day?” 

Eddie beams. “The anniversary of the day Wayne took me in.”

“Dunno if took in is the right term,” Wayne hums around his first sip. “You pretty much let yourself in and refused to leave.” 

Eddie waves him off, as if to say that he won’t argue about the technicalities. Steve’s eyes, meanwhile, have grown large. 

“Wait,” he says. “That's today? Why didn’t- … I’m sorry, I had no idea.” 

Eddie cocks his head at him, smile bright and incredibly fond. It makes a familiar warmth spread behind Wayne’s collarbone, one that has nothing at all to do with the coffee. “Why would you be sorry?” 

Steve gestures awkwardly at the mess that is the kitchen. “This is a family thing. If you’d told me, I’d have left you alone.” 

Eddie laughs. On the tabletop, his fingers find Steve’s. 

“Exactly,” he says. “This is a family thing. You're right where you belong. Ain't he, Wayne?” 

Wayne regards them - two men littered in battle scars, leaning into each other in the hazy morning light - and thinks of a hurt little boy who was too scared to let anyone in. 

“Can't argue with that,” he says. 

Steve's face lights up as if he'd just invited him to spend Christmas morning. 

“I- … thank you,” he stutters, and Wayne gets a feeling that he, too, is still learning to let people in. “Let me clean this up, and then I'll make us new-” 

“Stevie,” Eddie says, and hooks one finger into the necklace to pull him back. His next words are a murmur against the shell of Steve's ear, so low Wayne almost misses them. “Maybe get dressed first, darling.” 

The last thing Wayne sees of Steve as he flees into Eddie’s room is the blush coloring his neck and shoulders. 

“Do you have to tease him like that?” he asks, starting to gather the broken plates off the ground. 

Eddie shrugs. “He can take it. I think that's a basic requirement for joining this family?”  

His eyes find Wayne's, searching for a reaction. 

“Ed,” he says, picking up the crutches and handing them over. “My only requirement ever was for you to be happy. I think your boy has long proven himself in that regard. Now, run over to the Mayfields and ask if we can borrow some eggs, yeah?” 

As Eddie bolts out with a blush matching Steve's, Wayne settles into the newly vacated chair, allowing himself a long sip of coffee and a content sigh. 

It's gonna be a good Uncle's Day. 

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter two ⭐︎ I want you to notice, when I'm not around

Warnings: angst! mean!Steve, unrequited feelings, one sided feelings, mentions of Steve being in love with Nancy, mentions of death, allusions to suicidal thoughts, mentions of weed and alcohol

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 4k

Author's note: I promise, it's gonna get so much better soon, get ready for some much more angst in the next chapter, it's gonna hurt. @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me as always, you're the bestest!!!

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

The living room is crowded, at least it seems that way to you. You aren’t used to being around so many people. You didn’t want to come here, but you had no choice when both Eddie and Robin had showed up at your house earlier today and practically forced you out of the house.

Now you sit here, sinking deeper and deeper into Steve Harrington’s couch, feeling uncomfortable and out of place. You’re playing with the loose string on the hem of your shirt as you look around the room. Robin is snacking on the m&m’s Eddie had brought as she’s looking through the pictures Jonathan had taken of her and Nancy just now. Eddie is out on the patio, smoking a cigarette and talking to Argyle who will leave for California in two days. Jonathan is staring at the screen watching some music video that is playing on the MTV channel, his pupils are blown and his eyes seem heavy, he is high out of his mind and for once, Nancy doesn’t seem to care, with her legs thrown over his thigh, she’s sipping on the beer that Steve handed to her a few minutes back, she is talking to Robin, unaware of the set of eyes on her. 

You restrain the eye roll as you look at him. 

Steve is sitting on the same couch you do, though with a big distance, you sit at one end and he on the other, far far away from you. You know he doesn’t want you here, you saw the look on his face when Eddie had dragged you into his house, a wave of something had washed over his face, something unpleasant, like he wanted to scrunch his face up in disgust at the sight of you – his mind had already erased your little moment at the Sinclair house, last week. Now you are back to normal. He made a comment, you made a comment and now you both sit there, avoiding each other like the plague. 

Secretly, you watch him though. 

Like you always do. 

And what you are seeing now, only fuels your annoyance and your wish to go home. 

The smile on his face that could never be directed at you, is directed at her. The love and the longing in his eyes that always lingers when she is around. She who had stolen his heart from the very first moment they saw each other. She who had always kept his heart even when she left him for the one she is smiling at now. She who will always be the one he will look at. 

You thought that he was over it, you thought that he was over her. But you were a little blind and maybe he was too when he told Robin that he was over her. He never was, he never will be. You saw the way he looked at her when she patched him up after he was attacked. You saw the way he looked at her in the RV. You heard the things he said to her, how he talked about his dreams that he surely saw her in by his side. 

You also heard the things he said about you when he thought that you were sleeping. You still remember how gut wrenching it felt to hear him say things about you to his ex-girlfriend. 

You huff in silence when his lips curl into a smile and his eyes light up when Nancy throws her head back in laughter. 

God, why are you even here? 

Eddie falls into the seat next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. It feels as though a cloud of smoke had followed him because suddenly, the smell of snacks, fresh air and beer is replaced by it, along with the smell of his cologne.

Right. You’re here because of him. You don’t know why he feels the urge to drag you along to every group hang out. No one wants you around, you don’t even think that Robin wants you here, she barely talked to you since you came here. And the longer you sit in Steve’s living room, with an untouched can of coke on the table in front of you, surrounded by people who most likely cannot stand you or your presence, you wish more and more that Jason should have dragged you down with him. 

You don’t belong here, you don’t belong anywhere. 

Eddie takes a look around before he turns to you, the smile still lingering, though turning into a softer one when he notices the frown on your face. 

“What’s wrong, sweets?” 

You shake your head a little, trying to give him a smile, “nothing.” 

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks, whispering. 

You wonder if that is the reason why he always wants you around, so he can keep checking up on you, so he can make sure that you are okay, that you are still alive and not lying in some ditch after pushing yourself a little too hard while still recovering from surgery. 

Does he care so much because he knows that no one else would? 

Or does he feel like he owes you something because you helped him when it wasn’t even asked of you? 

You nod, “yeah, I just don’t know why I’m here,” you whisper to him, subtly gesturing to this tight friend group that you don’t fit into. 

Eddie is new to this as well, but unlike you, he’s open and friendly with everyone. He surely isn’t as cheerful as he was weeks back. Just like you, he is still recovering, hiding his inner scars from the face of the earth but still, he is trying. Trying to fit into this, and for him, it’s working, for you? Not so much. 

“Well, you’re here because of me,” he grins, tapping your shoulder. 

You huff but smile, looking down at your hands. 

Yeah, you wouldn’t be here otherwise. 

Had you not gone on a walk that one afternoon a few weeks back, you would have never ran into him. Eddie who had been a wanted man at that time, Eddie who was hiding at skull rock, in drenched clothes and with clattering teeth as he shivered like crazy. You remember how scared he looked when you saw him, how he thought that you would rat him out because at that time, you were nothing but acquaintances to each other. – You bought from him a few times but that was all. He always tried to make small talk, throw a few jokes at you, but at that time, he barely got you to laugh. 

You didn’t believe the rumors on the news, not even for a second, not even when Chrissy used to be a close friend of yours. 

You decided to help him, not knowing what else you were getting yourself into, not knowing that it wasn’t just him involved in a world you hadn’t known of yet, at that time. You got him dry clothes, food and the walkie talkie he had begged you for. 

You never expected Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson to show up moments later, though. And least of all, you hadn’t expected Max there. It felt like a surreal dream the moment they started explaining everything to you. The moment you found out the truth about Starcourt, about all the deaths in this town, about the lab, about Henry. 

You had only been allowed to be a part of it because of Max, because of your friendship with the girl you had grown protective of, because she let you help. 

The night in the upside down, the night at the Creel house led you here, into this friend group, into Steve’s house where you certainly don’t belong. 

You don’t know what that nagging yet empty feeling in your chest is, if it’s the trauma that is slowly catching up to you or if it’s from watching him watch her, or if you’re just simply having a bad day but it’s making you feel sick and restless, you want the ground to swallow you up. 

You muster up your greatest smile and flash it at Eddie, “yeah, cause you’re my very best friend.”

He snorts at you, hearing the sarcasm in your voice. 

“Your only best friend is Red.” 

You smile at his nickname for Max. 

“Hey Chica, do you wanna smoke this with me?” 

You don’t even pay attention or look up, not until Eddie chuckles and nudges your shoulder, raising his eyebrows at you to look up and when you do, you find Argyle looking at you with a dopey smile on his face as he holds up a blunt to you. 

Without thinking, you get up with a smile on your lips, “is that even a question?” 

It’s been a long time since you have had anything other than medication in your system, you are in dire need of something that will ease your mind and make you feel more than what you are feeling today. 

You fail to notice the disapproving look on Steve’s face, the way he tensely straightens up, slowly getting up as his brows knit together, more and more, watching in disbelief how you make your way over to Argyle. 

“What the hell, Blondie!?” 

His raised voice startles everyone in the room. Robin looks up from the polaroids in her hands, glancing up at her best friend who is staring at you with angry eyes. Nancy and Jonathan turn to look at Steve before they turn to look at what he is glaring at – or who he is glaring at. 

Argyle and Eddie turn to Steve with confusion on their faces. 

And you, you halt in your tracks, and turn back slowly. Caught off guard by the intense look on his face, you freeze. 

“Are you crazy?” 

You open your mouth to speak, though you shut your mouth again when you realize that these words aren’t directed at you, they’re directed at Argyle. 

“She can’t smoke or drink! Her doctor said it loud and clear, and I warned you before!” He points at him. 

You’re taken aback by his anger, by his words. The fact that he remembered when even you, yourself have forgotten about it. You hate the way your heart flutters at that, you hate the way it makes your stomach feel all tingly. You know that it doesn’t mean anything, just because he remembered. 

You see the way Argyle’s face drops and the way he smacks himself on his forehead, “I forgot, I’m sorry, man,” he looks at you, pulling away the blunt he was just about to give to you. “Sorry, he told me… I wasn’t thinking.” He whispers, a little uncomfortably as a funny look takes over his face. 

Steve warned him? 

“Dude, I forgot too, don’t worry about it,” you pat his arm, giving him an apologetic smile. “Don’t mind mother hen over there, he’s overreacting as always.” You say as though you don’t feel your heart racing over Steve’s outburst. 

“And you.” 

You instantly turn to face him, just like everyone else in the room who watches the scene unfold with curiosity and confusion on their faces. 

You meet his hazel eyes, the ones that are still raging. 

“Stop being so fucking careless!” He snaps, pointing his finger at you now. “You’re getting on my goddamn nerves.” 

He places his hands back on his hips, huffing loudly. 

Your cheeks flush under his gaze, you can feel them burning, your heart beating faster and faster. You don’t know how to feel but all you can think about now is the look in his eyes when he realized that he hurt you back at Lucas’s place the other day, the words he had said to you. 

Despite the giddiness inside of you, you hide your feelings behind a smirk. 

“Wow, you do worry about me, Harrington. You weren’t lying.” 

He squints his eyes at you, nodding at your words with another huff. He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. 

Everyone is looking between the two of you, waiting for the bickering to start, the way it always does, but Steve manages to bite his tongue. 

And you surprise the others by holding back your little remarks. 

“And fucking relax, leave Argyle alone, he isn’t responsible for me and neither are you, Lego head. Go and get high, you need to calm down.” 

Jonathan snorts at the nickname, he throws his head back, chuckling loudly as he mumbles ‘Lego head’. Argyle, who already had one too many drags of the blunt he passed around before, is barely holding himself together, threatening to burst into laughter too. 

Steve shoots Jonathan a glare, pointing at him to shut up. 

Nancy looks down, pressing her lips together with an amused look in her eyes. 

Eddie drinks his beer, hiding the smirk behind the can, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Sit your ass down, Blondie and drink your goddamn coke, don’t even think about weed or–”

“No weed, no beer, just fucking coca cola, got it, mom,” you roll your eyes at him and slump back in your previous seat, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He sighs loudly, sitting back down as well, he crosses his legs, giving you the side eye. 

“Goddamn brat,” he mumbles under his breath. 

“I heard that.” 

“Good,” he snaps at you. 

There is no tension in the room, not even awkwardness after this weird moment. If anything, everyone is still amused. 

“Always bickering like an old married couple,” Eddie snickers. 

Steve glares at him, and you, you would have dug your elbow into his side, but he is wounded and still healing. The band aids on his neck are the evidence that they are still bad. He is hiding him, and you wonder if he always will, you ask yourself if he will hide his pain the way you hide yours. 

You don’t even notice that Robin left the room, only when everyone moves on from what just happened and chatter fills the space again, do you take a look around. You furrow your brows when you find her spot empty. 

Argyle and Jonathan leave the room, stepping out into the garden with Nancy following close behind. 

“Are you still in for tomorrow?” You hear Eddie, directing his question at Steve. 

“Yeah, sure.”

You don’t bother to ask and find out what their plans are. 

Robin walks back into her room, with something in her hand. Her eyes are aimed at you, a smile on her lips when she walks towards you. She hands you a drink, a diet pepsi. 

“Here.” 

Your lips part as you stare at the can for a long moment, blinking. You tilt your chin up, looking up at her with big eyes. 

Her smile falls and a frown takes over, “shit, I thought you liked diet pepsi? Was it original?” 

You shake your head at her, taking the can from her hand, “n-no, it’s diet pepsi.” 

She paid attention to you. 

She smiles at you. 

She felt bad watching you sit there and being unable to drink beer or smoke weed with the others. And she remembers that you always asked for pepsi when you were still in the hospital, you hated the teas there and despised the fact that you were only allowed water. 

“I thought you liked coke, Blondie.”

Robin rolls her eyes at Steve. 

“It’s not my favorite,” you shrug, turning to look at him. “I prefer pepsi.” 

He squints his eyes at you, “so when you stole my coke the other day, you did it just to–”

“Get back at you, yeah. Cause you stole my coffee.” 

“When did he steal your coffee?” Robin asks. 

“When I came to family video to rent a movie–”

“Oh, you little liar,” Steve scoffs at you, “she did not rent a movie, she didn’t even come to look for one.”

A smirk tugs at your lips, if there’s something that you love more than the drink in your hand, it’s to get on his nerves. 

“Says who? I really wanted one but the customer service sucks when this one isn’t around,” you point at Robin. 

Eddie chuckles, turning to look at Steve who is glaring at you, before a smirk appears on his face, his hazel eyes twinkling with smugness. 

“You and I both know that you didn’t want to rent a movie, honey. You were there because you wanted to see me,” he says, cockily as he lets his eyes move from your face, down to your body and back up to meet your eyes. 

Your breath gets caught in your throat at the way he just looked at you. You don’t squirm in your seat, but you surely would if the others weren’t around. You grow flustered beneath his stare but you have come to learn how to hide it – Steve Harrington will never see you blushing over him. 

Maybe he was right, maybe you did just want to see him, because you always do, you always want to see him. No matter how much he hates you, no matter how much he despises you, you can’t help but want him, even if you continue to lie about it to yourself to stay sane. 

Steve Harrington had always been your demise – from the first glance. 

You couldn’t help but grow fascinated with him, watching him from afar with eyes the shape of your favorite sunglasses. You couldn’t help but care for him, even when he couldn’t stand you. 

Sometimes you feel like a creep, watching him and adoring everything about him, from his sun kissed skin, to his beautiful eyes, to his perfect hair, to that one smile that he blesses only those around him that he cares about – something that you will never get. 

Sometimes it’s hard to look into his eyes because every time you do look for a little too long, you feel like dying because suddenly, you see the world with different eyes, you see something beautiful, because he is in it and when you look away, when he is gone, it feels anything but.

Steve wouldn’t even bat an eye if you were gone. He wouldn’t even notice if you weren’t around. 

Suddenly, you feel overwhelmed by the way he looks at you, by his presence, by all of this. You are in his space, you are invading, his home, his friend group, his safe place. The reminder of it, that you don’t belong here, lies heavy on your heart and you feel the urge to run away but you cannot give yourself away so easily, knowing that it would be awfully noticeable if you suddenly left after what he just said. 

So you put on a mask, the way you always do. 

“If that helps you sleep at night,” you smirk, tilting your head at him, “I mean no one else would come to see you, I took pity on you.” 

He clenches his jaw, his smirk falling into a frown. 

“Keep your pity to yourself, Blondie. I’d rather never see you again than see you when I don’t have to.”

You know how he feels about you, you know what he thinks of you, yet every single insult, every jab at you feels like a punch to your gut. But this, this was a punch to your heart. 

You know he wouldn’t grieve you if you died at the Creel house, but to know that he might have felt relieved to never having to see you again, hurts you more than you want to admit. 

“What the hell, man?” Eddie snaps at him as his brown eyes fill with anger at his words. 

Robin rolls her eyes, shaking her head at Steve in disappointment. 

But he keeps his eyes on you, struggling to read you, struggling to look past that smirk that is still going strong. 

“Well, I’ll put you out of your misery, Lego head,” you say as you place the drink on the table before you get up. 

Robin furrows her brows, looking you up and down, “what are you doing?” 

“I’m leaving.” You try not to sound bitter or hurt. “I’m getting tired and I forgot my meds at home.” 

Steve looks away from you, feeling a rush of guilt. 

“I’ll drive you–”

You cut Eddie off, shaking your head at him, “no, I’m gonna walk, I need some fresh air.”

Eddie looks at you worriedly, “sweets, I don’t want you to walk by yourself.”

“Eddie, I’m okay, I don’t get dizzy anymore,” you say, trying to smile at him. “I promise, I’ll call you later tonight.” 

He still looks unsure, not wanting to let you go like this. 

But he can tell that you want to be alone, right now, so despite his worry, he leans back again and nods begrudgingly. 

“Okay..” 

You walk out of the room, biting back the bitterness on your tongue, trying to swallow down the pain. You rush through the hallway and open the door, you only manage to take one step out before you hear footsteps behind you. 

You roll your eyes, knowing that Eddie being the stubborn guy that he is will try to convince you to stay, but when you turn around, it’s not Eddie’s brown eyes that you find yourself looking into, it’s Steve’s and it catches you off guard a little. 

He stops in front of you, his eyes scan your face and he huffs a little when he runs his fingers through his hair. 

If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’s guilt and worry in his eyes. 

You hold onto the door, ready to escape whatever pain he will put you through again.

“Listen uh, that was mean,” he starts, now struggling to look into your eyes. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, tugging at his hair. “I shouldn’t have said that.” 

You blink.

You swallow as you keep on looking at him with smugness, to hide the pain. 

“It’s okay, no need to hide the truth from me, you were just saying what you were feeling, right?” 

He opens his eyes and when he faces you again, he looks at you, really looks at you. He tries to find a hint of pain in your features or hurt in your eyes, but there is nothing. All he can see is the coldness in them. 

Nothing he could ever do or say would hurt you – at least, that is what he believes, what he always believed. 

“Right.” 

You bite the insides of your cheeks. 

“Good,” you nod and you tear your eyes away from him, unable to look at him any longer as you feel your heart cracking more and more.

“Y-You don’t have to go, Blondie.” He stops you once again, holding himself back from taking your hand. 

You slowly turn around and he still struggles to read you, even when you stop smirking, even when you only look at him with a straight face, not saying anything back. 

“But if you want to leave, no one’s gonna stop you.”

You see the indifference in his eyes, the coldness that is only there when he looks at you. 

Yeah, you know no one would. 

How can you care so much about someone that cares so little about you? 

How can you want him so bad when all he wants for you is to disappear? 

How can he worry one second and hate you in the other? 

How can you long for him after every hurtful thing that he said to you? 

You take a step away from him, blinking as you feel your eyes starting to burn. 

“Bye, Steve.” 

You turn around before he can even open his mouth, and you slam the door shut behind you because you don’t want to hear his voice. 

You walk away with tears in your eyes. 

You wish you didn’t come here today, every moment spent with him makes you want him even more, makes you hate yourself even more. 

You don’t go home, no, you can’t stand to be in a house that resembles nothing but loss. 

You turn the other way, towards Hawkins cemetery. 

You just need to vent. 

Even if only into the void. 

♡

tagging only friends & mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @livosssblog

[munson-blurbs]

Best friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend gets a lot more than he bargained for when he walks in on you wearing only your Hellfire Club t-shirt.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), dry humping, thigh riding, cumming in pants

WC: 1.2k

A/N: Reader is described as wearing an oversized Hellfire t-shirt. This is her shirt, not Eddie's. There is no indication of her size whatsoever.

--

Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Your toothbrush is clenched in your hand, but instead of cleaning your teeth, it serves as a microphone while you dance around your bedroom. The stereo is playing loudly; you can’t even hear the creaking staircase floorboards over the music. 

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love’s gone be—AAAAH!

Your palm flies to your chest when you see Eddie standing in your doorway, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. 

“And here I thought I was the rockstar in this friendship,” he smirks, arms folded across his chest. 

Your heart rate slowly returns back to a pace that won’t send you to an early grave. “Jesus, Eddie! What are you doing here?”

“Figured I’d stop by,” he replies nonchalantly. “Y’know, you probably shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked while your folks aren’t home. Anyone could walk in off the street.” He flops onto your bed with an exaggerated exhale, looking pointedly in your direction. “Nice pants, by the way.”

Nice pants? You’re ready to sleep; an oversized Hellfire tee serving as your pajamas. You’re not even wearing—oh. 

You tug at the hem, but even after years of wear, it doesn’t stretch below your thighs. Heat blooms in your face. “Yeah, well,” you sputter, “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Eddie pouts. “You mean you didn’t wear that ‘specially for little ol’ me?” He ducks as you hurl your toothbrush at his head. He opens his mouth to say something before quickly clamping it shut, but not before you notice. 

“What?”

“N-Nothing.”

You cross your arms, more firm this time. “What?!”

“When you, uh, threw the toothbrush…your shirt…” His face turns bright red as he scrambles to explain. “…it, uh, kinda rode up.” His Adam’s apple bobs nervously. 

“It’s just underwear. You’ve seen me in a swimsuit before.” You try to hide your own embarrassment, playing it off coolly, but all you can think about is the fact that Eddie Munson saw your panties. 

He nods, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Right, yeah. Totally the same thing.” He clears his throat. “Well, I should get going.” He pushes on his knees, starting to stand up, but abruptly stops. “Actually, um, maybe I’ll hang out here for a bit, if you wanna maybe put…put something else on.” Pink embarrassment blooms in his cheeks, spreading down his neck. 

“No, I’m going to bed, and you’re leaving. We can get breakfast tomorrow morning or something.” You sigh when he doesn’t move, making your way to where he’s sitting. “C’mon, time to—”

Eddie attempts to hunch himself over, but there’s no hiding the hardening bulge straining behind his zipper. 

It’s only natural, you tell yourself. He’s a twenty-year-old guy; he’ll get a boner if the wind blows the wrong way. It doesn’t mean he’s into you. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. This is super weird, and I shouldn’t have come in without knocking.” He buries his head in his hands. “Just…give me a sec, okay?”

“Okay.” Now’s your chance. If there’s any time to find out if he’s into you, it’s when he’s sporting a stiffie in your bedroom. “Or…I could help you with it?”

His head whips around so fast that his curls are a blur of brown. “Wh-What? Like, help me…?” He’s desperate for you to finish his sentence, not wanting to say something that makes the situation even more awkward. 

“I can help you get off. If you want. Or you can just use my bathroom and, I dunno, rub one out.” You cringe at the phrasing. “No pressure.”

“Um, yeah. No pressure.” His thumbs circle each other, an anxious habit he’s had for years. “So if you were gonna help me out, what would that look like?”

You shrug, a half-smile gracing your lips. “I guess I’d do this first.” You place one hand on each of his shoulders, straddling his waist with your bare thighs. “And then I’d kiss you?”

“Mhm, please.” Eddie grips your hips as you lean in, mouths finding one another in unhurried splendor. He tastes like stale Camels and spearmint gum, only breaking the connection to trail his lips down your neck. 

It’s your favorite spot to be kissed, and the way his teeth nip at your flesh, tongue gliding over the mark as though sealing it in, has you grinding down on him. 

“Christ, honey,” he breathes, “you look so goddamn perfect like this.” His fingertips dig into your asscheeks possessively before one hand snakes its way up your shirt. You expect him to lift it above your head to expose your breasts, but he doesn’t. 

“Y-You can take it off,” you stammer, feeling silly as you say it aloud. 

Eddie shakes his head in refusal. “Next time.” Next time. It’s a promise you hope he’ll keep. “I just love the way you look in this shirt.” And nothing but this shirt, he thinks to himself. 

The friction of your cotton panties on his denim pants is delectable, providing just enough pressure to your aching clit. You’re greedy in your movements but make sure to give him what he needs, too. Your pussy rubs against his clothed cock; Eddie uses the hand on your ass to help guide your hips. 

“Thassit, oh, fuck,” he grunts, teased with the beginnings of an orgasm. “Right there, baby. Ohmygod, I’m gonna cum in my fuckin’ pants.”

“S’okay,” you murmur into his ear, gently biting the lobe, “‘m close, too. So close, holy shit.”

Sweat beads along his upper lip, his groans more needy and guttural. “‘M coming, ‘m coming, ‘m coming.” He babbles pathetically as sticky, wet warmth floods his boxers. You follow his lead, finishing on his somehow still-hard cock. 

The immediate aftermath is filled with panting breaths and sporadic giggles as the pleasure high fades and reality sets in. 

“Did we just—” Eddie starts, eyes wide in disbelief. 

You laugh, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “Mhm. We sure did.”

He rakes a hand through his curls, frizzy from perspiration and activity. “So, um, what do we do now?” There are many unspoken questions woven into it. What does this mean for our friendship? Do we even have a friendship anymore? Was it as good for you as it was for me?

“Well…” You sit up a bit straighter, toying with the chain of his guitar pick necklace. “We can throw your stuff in the wash, and maybe while we’re waiting, we can get started on that next time you’d mentioned earlier?”

Eddie grins, kissing you with a fervor like you’ve never seen. “What are we waiting for?” He tugs off his pants and boxers, unashamed of the way he’s painted them with cum. When he notices you staring, he winks. “‘S a lot, isn’t it? Imagine how much it’ll be when I’m actually inside you.”

It doesn’t take long for either of you to find out.  

--

[gloomweed]

Metal as Fuck

a/n: was having a bad period last month and my only cure was to fantasize about Eddie taking care of me. here's this little blurb I came up with so all of us with a period can cope.

warning: discussions of menstruation and blood, but nothing graphic wc: 1500~

It was that time of the month again, and it was positively aggressive this time around. Despite wearing a pad to bed, you wake in the early hours of the morning to a wet feeling in your nether regions. You pull your comforter back in a panic to see you’ve bled through your pajama pants and onto your sheets. “Goddamn it,” you swore under your breath at the sight of the mess. After cleaning up, soiled sheets and clothes in the wash and body freshly showered, you began to feel that familiar ache between your hips. Not only was it the muscles in your back at the base of your spine, but also just below your stomach. Kneading the flesh of your lower back with a grimace, you make your way to the medicine cabinet for some pain killers. 

It’s only when you notice it’s missing that you remember that you used the last of it last month. Pills clatter as you search for any alternative you might have, but ultimately you find none. Giving up with a huff, head thrown back towards the ceiling, your brows furrow in annoyance as you run through your options. You really didn’t feel like going to the store right now, not when you feel like absolute shit. At the same time, if you don’t go you’re only going to continue to feel like shit for the rest of the evening. The pain in your abdomen is distracting you to the point you struggle to make a decision. Waking up so much earlier than usual was also not helping your thought process. Instead of choosing either choice, you curl up on the couch, laying under a throw blanket telling yourself you’ll go to the store later. 

An hour later, you’re awoken by the sound of the front door opening. Eddie makes his way in with the clatter of keys and heavy steps in his work boots. He toes them off at the door before turning to see you laying on the couch instead of sleeping soundly in your bed. Seeing your messy hair and sleepy squinted eyes, Eddie frowns apologetically. “Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He keeps his voice soft, not wanting to wake you up any further. After hanging his jacket on the coat hook, he strides over to place a kiss on the crown of your head as he snuggles up next to you. He puts his arms around you in a loose hug, simply holding you, as he huffs out a quiet yawn. “What are you doing out here?” 

Picking the crust out from the corner of your eye, you sigh with frustration. “I’m just having a shitty day.”

Eddie eyebrows pinch together, a small smirk on his face as he sits up. “It’s only,” he pauses to take a look at his watch, “6am. How is your day already shitty?” 

You mindlessly pick at a loose thread on your shirt as you recall your morning. “I bled through my pants and onto the bed, so I had to clean all that up, and even though I threw it all in the wash as soon as possible, I'm still worried that my underwear is gonna be stained.” You sigh, “And I just bought that pair.”

The nonchalance with which you shrug it off makes Eddie feel crazy. He knows that if he were in your shoes, he'd be unfathomably pissed if not terrified of the impromptu blood loss, but to you it's just another day. “Anyways, then I started having these horrible cramps. Like in my stomach and in my back at the same time. I would’ve taken some pain meds but we’re all out and I felt too shitty to go and get some more, so I just curled up on the couch hoping it would go away on its own which I know is not really productive, but-“ Eddie cuts off your tired rambling with another kiss to your head before pushing off of his knees with a groan, standing from the couch. “Wait- Where are you going?” 

He begins to slip his shoes on, not even bothering to look up at you as he answers. “Going to the store.”

You feel a sharp pang of fear that Eddie interpreted your venting as you demanding he fix it. “Oh, baby you don’t have to do that. You just got home from work, let me go and get it later. It’s not an emergency or anything.”  

Eddie smiles as he puts his jacket on. “You act like I’m gonna be pushing a rock up a mountain or something.” He faces you and shrugs, hands in his pockets. “I’ll be back in like 15 minutes, tops.” 

“Well I just… I don’t want to annoy you with it.” You shyly fiddle with the blanket in your lap. The little pout on your lips has Eddie smiling.

“Why not? You annoy me with plenty of other stuff.” His playful smirk brightens at the sight of your offended face. Eddie flinches away from the decorative pillow you lob at him from the couch. “I'm kidding, obviously,” he laughs. “Besides, you can't annoy me, sweetheart. As someone who actually is annoying, I pretty much have built up a tolerance for it. I’m unannoyable.” He rolls his shoulders back, boasting his self described title.

You smile at the sentiment. “I just mean, I don't want you to feel like you have to fix things for me. I was only venting, you know? I've dealt with a bad period before and I know I'll deal with a bad period again.” You shrug, “I'm used to it.”

Eddie's arms fall to his sides with a thump, looking at you in disbelief and partly sorrow. “Just because you're used to it doesn't mean I can't make it better.” 

His words leave you feeling a little stunned. “Oh.” Eddie makes it sound so simple, and really you knew that, but it was as if you never applied the concept to this situation before. When you think about bettering your life, it's usually things that are more tangible. Like reorganizing the closet, or giving that old dresser a fresh coat of paint, or sewing up a rip in a hoodie. Letting yourself be taken care of wasn’t something you had in mind.

From the beginning of first dealing with the burden of having a period, you were always told to just suck it up and accept it. After all, it was something nearly half of the Earth's population has to deal with. It wasn't like you were different and deserving of special treatment. There was also the matter of feeling like it was something you couldn’t bring up, not to mention the embarrassment of having an uncontrollable bodily function. Periods were something to be ashamed of and never openly discussed. At least, that’s how you were raised. It felt like a forbidden topic, so how were you ever meant to seek any kind of help for it? Seeing people take care of their loved ones who are on their period is something you didn't grow up seeing, so it never even occurred to you.

Eddie takes a step closer to hold your hands. When your spaced out expression focuses on his intense button eyes, he tilts his head to his shoulder with a closed lip smile. “I want to take care of you, sweetheart. Even if you think you don't need it because you're super fuckin’ metal.” Despite the scoff that brushes passed your lips, you're still smiling. “I'm serious!” Eddie insists. “You woke up in a puddle of blood and you brushed it off like it was nothing. That's metal as fuck.” 

The way he stares with so much genuine love and admiration makes you blush. As is your way, you try to downplay the compliment anyways. “I don't think that counts as metal, Eds.”

“Well it does to me.” Still holding your hands, he swings them from side to side with a childlike smirk before dipping down for a kiss. Eddie hums contentedly against your lips as you snake your arms around each other. When your hands reach up to tangle at the hairs on the nape of his neck, his hands cradle your face, the rough pads of his thumbs brushing over the apples of your cheeks. Eventually, you separate with a quiet smack, Eddie walking backwards towards the door once again. He nearly trips on the pillow you threw earlier as he keeps his eyes intently on you. “I'll be back with some pain reliever and some of that candy you like. Okay?” 

Your face feels hot as you reply in a small voice. “Okay. Thank you, Eddie.” It's only when he's got a foot out the door that you find the courage to shout after him, “I love you!” Eddie is quick to turn around and shout back, “loveyoumore!” his urgency stringing his words into one. He tucks his chin in to give you a pointed look, as if shutting down all arguments about it before closing the door. All you can do is stare after him, your knight in dull black leather, and grin, hopelessly in love.

[dangerpronebuddie]

Buddie ““Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”

For you, lovely!

“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?” Buck fumbles the spatula he’s washing, dropping it back into the sink with a splash that gets his shirt wet. “Uh… what?” He can’t possibly have heard that correctly. Eddie only repeats the question. Buck can feel his eyes on him, sees from his periphery how Eddie props his hip against the counter and tilts his head just a little. Buck knows that head tilt way too well. Eddie has always had the ability to see right through him, and that head tilt only tells Buck there’s no use trying to hide it. And he’s been so careful about it. For years. He thought maybe Eddie knew all this time and just didn’t say anything. Didn’t think it meant anything. But it did. It does. Buck doesn’t even know how it started happening. That in itself is a lie. He’ll never forget how it started. He’ll never forget watching Eddie sleep in a dim hospital room after thirty feet of freezing mud tried to steal him away. How he couldn’t quite believe that Eddie was still there, with him, snoring softly beneath a truly impressive mountain of blankets. He’ll never forget how he leaned over, pressing a featherlight kiss to Eddie’s temple, not willing to admit he just needed a little more proof Eddie was still here. He’ll never forget the little sigh Eddie let out in sleep, the furrow in his brow smoothing out. And he didn’t mean to do it again, a matter of months later, when he and Eddie ended up sharing his bed through quarantine. But they were both missing Christopher, Eddie most of all, and each night after their facetime with the best kid in the world, Eddie would fall asleep with that furrow in his brow again. Buck’s heart ached, watching Eddie drift into a fitful sleep those first few nights. He just didn’t know how to help him. So, he’d wait for Eddie to fall asleep, their legs entangled, and press a kiss to his forehead. Eddie would let out that little sigh, and the furrow would smooth out, and he’d wind himself tighter around Buck. It made Buck feel selfish, despite telling himself each night that it was for Eddie. And it just kept happening. It became almost habit, if Buck was being honest with himself (which he more often than not wasn’t). It just became another act of affection, just for them. As familiar and comforting as Eddie’s hand on his hip or his back or his shoulder. Any time Buck found Eddie asleep, he’d bend to press the softest kiss to Eddie’s temple, his forehead, on the rare occasion his cheek. Eddie never brought it up. Buck never mentioned it. Until now. “I…” Buck doesn’t even know how to answer. He feels like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He tries to think of an explanation that would sound somewhere in the range of platonic, but all that comes out is “that’s the only time I’m allowed to kiss you.” “Buck,” Eddie says in that voice that never fails to bring him to his knees. Buck stares at the suds in the sink, not willing to face whatever Eddie's about to say. “Buck,” Eddie says again, much closer than before. His chest brushes Buck's arm. “Baby, look at me.” Buck's heart stutters in his chest. He has no choice but to look at Eddie, turning fully to face him. “You're allowed to kiss me anytime you want to,” Eddie says, his voice as soft as his eyes. Buck cups Eddie's cheek, but instead of giving in to the temptation that is Eddie's lips curled into a smile, he presses a kiss- as delicate and featherlight as the hundreds, maybe thousands before- to Eddie's forehead. Instead of the little sigh that usually accompanies it, Eddie’s breath catches. He looks up at Buck in awe, though from the kiss or Buck's stupidity, he doesn't know. “Buck,” he says again as he cups the back of Buck’s neck. “Be selfish with me.” Buck's been selfish with Eddie since that first kiss. And still, somehow, Eddie wants him to take more. Buck can't help but lean down and press their lips together, something inside him finally settling as Eddie lets out that little sigh.

Send me a drabble prompt!

[xhoneygirlxx]

We’re Not Friends

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?

warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.

*if I miss anything plz lmk*

a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.

And that's why friends should sleep in other beds

And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do

And I know that there's a limit to everything

But my friends won't love me like you do

The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.

Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.

So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.

Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.

"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.

Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.

"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.

Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.

He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.

He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.

"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."

Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.

You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.

However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.

You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.

"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.

Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.

Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."

He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.

"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.

His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.

"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.

Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."

Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.

"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.

Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.

It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.

The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.

Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.

The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.

Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.

"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.

Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.

Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.

Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"

The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.

"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.

The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.

You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.

The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.

Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.

Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.

Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.

The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.

The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.

Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.

Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.

Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.

"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.

The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.

You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.

Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.

"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.

A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.

The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.

Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.

Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."

The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.

Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."

He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.

That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.

"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.

Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.

While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.

"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.

"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"

"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.

Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.

Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.

"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.

Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.

Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."

It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.

"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."

Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.

"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."

Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.

"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.

You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.

"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."

Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.

Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.

Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.

It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.

The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.

Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.

You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.

Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.

It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.

This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.

Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?

Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.

Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.

You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.

You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.

Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.

But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.

-

Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.

On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.

While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.

You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.

Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.

"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.

You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."

Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.

"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.

Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.

Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.

Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.

"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.

"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.

The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.

Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.

A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.

God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.

Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.

The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.

"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.

You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.

Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.

"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.

"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.

"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.

In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.

The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.

It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.

Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.

Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.

It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.

The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.

You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.

You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.

Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.

Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.

Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.

This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.

"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.

His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.

Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.

Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.

"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.

Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.

Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.

"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.

A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.

"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.

Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.

"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.

"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."

Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.

Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.

Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.

"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."

"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."

Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.

The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.

"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."

Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.

"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.

Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.

Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.

"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.

The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.

A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.

You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.

All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.

The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.

To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.

So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.

Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.

You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.

He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.

Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.

You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.

"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.

"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.

Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."

That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."

Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.

Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.

You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.

He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.

"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.

Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.

Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."

"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.

"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.

"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.

Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.

The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.

"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.

His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.

"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.

Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.

"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."

It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.

"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.

"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."

You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.

"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.

His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.

You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.

"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.

"Thought you'd never ask."

thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3

-

-

-

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

Eddie’s sobbing is a muffled, haunting sound in your ears. You swear you can feel your heart pounding out of your chest. The weight of feeling invisible, hurt, and utterly worthless presses down on you. The urge to reach out to him, to comfort him as you’ve always done, is overwhelming, but you’re powerless to act.

“Fuck, it’s all my fault, fuck!” Eddie’s cries are raw, filled with guilt and desperation. You thought you understood why he was crying, but now the confusion and fear make you question everything. “Eddie, what’s wrong?” you ask timidly, your voice trembling, afraid he might lash out at you again. His head snaps in your direction, eyes wide with panic.

“I—I put you in this position, baby! You’re fucking dying because of me!” Eddie’s voice is frantic, his tears mingling with snot streaming down his face. “I can’t—I can’t stop the bleeding. What the fuck, baby, I’m sorry! I’m trying, I’m trying so hard, just hold on for me, please!” He’s pleading, his sobs wracking his body as he reaches for the radio on his hip, hoping Wayne will know what to do. As he speaks, he sees the bright red blood staining his hands, realizing it's yours.

You can only assume it’s your blood causing his panic, but you need him to know it’s not his fault. “Eddie, baby, stop. It’s not your fault. I swear, it’s not your fault—”

“No?!” Eddie interrupts, his voice cracking. “Then how did this happen, huh? How did you end up like this? Was it some mysterious god I don’t even believe in? Shit, baby, yes, it’s my fault. I’m sorry.” He clutches the radio, his hands shaking violently as he cries out for Wayne. The radio crackles before Wayne’s calming voice comes through.

“Wayne, please, please help me. Y/N is bleeding out, I don’t know what to do, Wayne, please,” Eddie sobs, his voice breaking. You can no longer speak, too weak to form coherent sentences. Your vision blurs, the darkness encroaching upon you. You can feel the coldness wrapping around you like a heavy, suffocating blanket. In the distance, Wayne’s voice tries to soothe Eddie.

“Eddie, put pressure on her wounds. Eddie, Eddie, calm down.” Wayne’s voice grows stern and darker. “Eddie, this is your fault.”

Eddie’s eyes drop to you, seeing your lifeless form, your eyes shut and mouth slightly open. The realization hits him hard: you’re dead, and it’s because of him. The sky outside reflects his turmoil—red and angry with lightning flashing ominously. He kneels, holding you close, desperately praying this isn’t real, questioning why he pursued the bats instead of staying with you and Dustin. It’s his fault you’re gone.

Your dream of Steve and Robin dancing in Scoops Ahoy outfits is shattered by a loud whine from across the room. You sit up, squinting in the dim light from the TV, now showing static. As you look around, you see Max and Lucas on the lazy boy, Max’s glasses slipping off her nose and Lucas’s arm draped loosely around her waist. On the sectional couch, El and Mike are sleeping, El’s mouth slightly open and Mike snoring close to her face. Dustin and Will are sprawled on the floor, covered in thick comforters. Nancy and Jonathan are in the guest room upstairs, and Robin is sharing a bed with Steve.

Eddie is curled up in a ball on the pull-out bed, his blanket strewn on the floor. His bangs are matted to his forehead, and his body shakes violently. You quietly get up from the air mattress Steve gave you, careful not to wake anyone else, and tiptoe to Eddie.

“Eddie, Eddie, wake up,” you whisper, shaking his shoulder gently. “Eddie, Eds, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” Your voice is soothing, trying to offer comfort without startling him. “What’s wrong with him?” a voice asks suddenly, making you jump. You turn to see El, her hair messy, looking concerned.

“He’s having a nightmare, babe. I was just trying to wake him up,” you explain. “Oh,” El replies. You give Eddie another gentle shake, and his eyes snap open. He looks at you and El with a startled expression and immediately curls up tighter, burying his head in his knees. You and El move in sync, wrapping your arms around him to offer comfort. El’s arms encircle him, while you gently cradle his face and shoulders, trying to lift his gaze.

Eddie finally looks up at you, his eyes bloodshot and red, his face streaked with tears. Your heart aches at the sight of your best friend in such distress. “Eddie, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare,” El says softly. Eddie nods, thanking her and placing a kiss on her forehead, telling her to go back to sleep. She hesitates but leaves when you give her a reassuring look.

“Eddie, let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, leading him to the bathroom. He follows silently, his pinky linked with yours, his tall frame towering over you. You gesture for him to sit on the toilet.

“I didn’t know you were having nightmares, Eddie. Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, washing your hands in the sink. “I didn’t want to worry you,” he replies, his voice hoarse.

“Worry me? Eddie, you worried me when you almost died a few months ago. You worry me when you close off. I just want to take care of you. You’re my best friend. I wish it had been me instead of you. It should have been m—”

“Don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence, Y/N. Don’t. It’s not your fault; it’s mine. I’m responsible for keeping myself safe, not you,” Eddie’s voice cracks.

“Yeah? Then why are you pushing me away? You’re sure acting like it’s my fault.” Tears well up in your eyes, your voice choked with emotion. “Listen, angel, sit.” Eddie guides you to sit on the edge of the bathtub, taking both your hands in his. He brings them to his mouth, holding them close as he speaks through sobs. “I never told you because the dreams are too painful. It’s not your fault. I keep dreaming of you dying in my arms. It’s unbearable to see your face, not when all I see is your soul leaving your eyes.”

“Eddie, you could have told me. I’ve always been here. I’ve been here, I’ve been right here, Eddie. I thought—I thought I lost you. I thought you hated me. I couldn’t handle that, not when I love you more than anything. I’m so in love with you, and you put me through so much pain, baby. I just needed you to talk to me,” you say, your head hanging low, tears streaming down your face. The pain of his distance and silence becomes clearer to you, and you finally understand why he was so distant and why he left you in the dark.

Eddie lifts your chin to meet his gaze, his eyes reflecting your own anguish. “Fuck, I love you too, baby. I love you so much. Why do you think this was so hard for me, huh? I thought I kept losing the love of my life. Baby, I couldn’t handle that.” He presses his forehead to yours, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, his voice filled with regret.

“Look at me, baby,” Eddie pleads. You lift your gaze to his eyes and then down to his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly.

“Yes,” you reply. His mouth finds yours in a fervent kiss, his tongue sliding past your lips to meet yours in a grateful and passionate embrace. After what feels like hours, you finally pull away, both of you breathless and teary.

“I love you, baby,” Eddie says, his voice tender and filled with relief.

“I love you too, Eds,” you respond, your heart aching but full.

After cleaning his face and him cleaning yours, you walk hand in hand back to Steve’s living room. Eddie heads towards the pull-out bed, while you make your way back to your air mattress.

“Eddie,” you call softly.

“Yeah, baby?” he replies.

“Come lay with me.”

“Ugh, thank fuck. I don’t think I could sleep without you, even if I wanted to,” he says with a sigh of relief.

He immediately bounces onto the air mattress and buries his face in your chest. Your fingers find their way into his curls as he kisses your stomach and rests his hands gently on your sides.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your belly.

“Goodnight, angel. I love you too,” you respond softly.

That time , Eddie falls into a dreamless sleep, comforted by your presence and the reassurance of your shared love. not caring what looms the corner of his mind. you love him with his scars with his imperfections. thats all eddie cares about.

[hippiegoth97]

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by Me :)

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Description:  It's late at night, you're sleeping in bed with Eddie. He wakes up due to some strange noises you're making in your sleep. At first, he thinks it's a nightmare, until you moan his name. He decides to have some fun waking you up...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Smut, female reader, swearing, sexual dreams, praise, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.1k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

Eddie's hands caress your body as you lay naked beneath him. His lips leave marks all over your neck, causing you to moan. Your nails drag down his back, trailing deep red marks into his skin. He groans, biting your throat roughly. His right hand wanders down your chest, stomach, all the way to your core. He swipes his fingers over your clit, and your hips buck off the bed. Eddie continues to rub you, looking deep into your eyes to watch how you react to his touch. You can't help but stare back, seeing how hungry and full of lust your boyfriend is. He inserts two fingers into you, curling them rapidly inside your pussy. You moan his name loudly.

Eddie's woken up from his sleep when he hears you moan out his name. He's been holding you close in bed, arms wrapped around you to keep you safe. He lifts his head to look at you, concerned that you're having a bad dream. But your face doesn't show fear, it's something else he can't quite decipher. He decides to wait to see if you say or do anything else, just in case you need him to wake you.

"You like it when I finger your pussy, darling?" He asks as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, working your clit with his thumb. You feel so close to the edge, and his words keep drawing you closer. You can't quite form the words, so you just nod at him. "You're so wet for me, love. I can tell you're close." His hand moves even faster, pushing you further and further. You're just about to lose it, and you moan for him again.

"Eddie." He hears you moan again, and he realizes what's going on. You're dreaming about him. But not just about him, about him fucking you. Eddie feels himself start to get an erection, the thought of you dreaming about him like this drives him wild. He decides to make your dream a reality, a large smirk forming on his lips. He lays you down on your back, positioning himself above you. He starts slowly, wanting to wake you up before going too far. He doesn't want to take advantage of you in any way. His head lowers to your neck, slowly making work of kissing your flesh. He begins to leave marks on you, branding you as his.

You're slowly drifting out of sleep when Eddie bites down on your neck. You realize you're not dreaming anymore, your eyes snapping open to see him on top of you. You tense slightly in surprise, and Eddie takes notice. He brings his head away from your neck to look at you. "Hey there, sweetheart. Were you having pleasant dreams?" He asks with a knowing grin. You blush at his question, you must have moaned his name aloud. How embarrassing. Eddie shakes his head at your shame. "Love, there's nothing to be shy about. It's pretty sexy, actually. I imagine you didn't get to finish, though, huh?"

"No, I never do. And then I end up with whatever the female equivalent of blue balls is." You both chuckle at that idea. His hand strokes your cheek, and you notice his lips are dangerously close to yours. You're still reeling from your dream, desperate for his touch."You may be insanely hot in my dreams, but nothing compares to the real thing. And I can't begin to tell you how much I need the real thing." You grope his cock through his boxers with the last sentence, squeezing his length gently to emphasize your point. He moans quietly, swallowing hard. He glances down at your hand, then back up to you. A fire has been set behind his eyes, but he holds back, awaiting your next move. "You wanna help me, big boy? I'm already so wet for you."

"Fuck, you're so filthy when you're needy, aren't you? Your wish is my command, Y/N." Eddie smashes his lips onto yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth. You've already wound him up considerably, and he has no intention of hiding it. Your tongue dances with his, letting him lead. You're still groping at Eddie's dick, making him let out little moans as you rub him. He moves your hand away, pulling his boxers off while he keeps kissing you. Once they're discarded you grip him again. Eddie breaks the kiss, breathing out shakily. "Take it easy, princess. I won't last much longer if you keep up like that." You let go of him, pouting slightly. "Don't be a brat, Y/N. You'll get what you want, all in good time. Let me please you completely, princess. Just be a good girl for me. Can you do that?"

"Yes, please just touch me, fuck me, do something. I can't take it, Eddie." Frustrated tears begin stinging your eyes. You feel silly crying like this, but you're just about ready to burst. Your dream turned you on so much, and you got so close to cumming. But as always, your brain and body denied you of it, leaving you unsatisfied. You need release so badly, it almost hurts.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry." Eddie coos at you, stroking your face again. "I didn't realize just how wound up you are. Just relax, and I'll take care of you, okay?" He kisses you gently, before moving his lips down your body. He trails kisses down your neck, to your tits, your stomach. He goes all the way down until he reaches the place where you need him most. He wastes no time in licking a stripe from your clit to your entrance.

"Oh, fuck, Eddie!" You whine, your hips lifting off the mattress. Eddie uses his hands to grip your waist, holding you in place. He continues to eat you out, working his tongue expertly against your sensitive bud. Juices drip from your pussy, and moans and curses drop haphazardly from your lips. Your hands tangle in Eddie's hair, holding him close to your core. You're already so close to the edge, each stroke of Eddie's tongue pushing you further. It really doesn't take much time at all until you're screaming his name, cumming onto his face. You let his head go as your legs begin to shake. You feel your walls clamp down onto nothing, causing more fluid to spill out of you. His tongue continues to lick you as your high subsides, making you twitch from overstimulation. You push his head away, needing to breathe. "Too much, Eddie. Too much." You whimper at him, and he stops immediately. He brings himself back to his original position above you, kissing you deeply. You moan as your arousal touches your tongue.

"Sorry, babe. You just taste so good, I can't help myself." He brushes your sweat-slicked hair behind your ear, looking into your eyes lovingly. "Do you still want me to fuck you, princess? We don't have to if it's too much." He always shows so much care for your feelings, never wanting to push you past your limit. His genuine affection for you makes your heart melt. And while his mouth works wonders on you, you can't help feeling like you need more.

"I need more, Eddie. I need you." You pull his head down to connect your lips again. You bite Eddie's lip roughly, making him moan. He slowly drags his hard cock between your slick folds, teasing the both of you. You keep going like this for what feels like hours, just kissing and grinding together, setting yourselves on fire with sensation. He kneads your tits with his hands, tweaking your nipples between his fingers. Muffled moans fill the room with every motion. Your hands scratch Eddie's back roughly, almost drawing blood. He groans into your mouth, and stops massaging your breasts. He grips his length in his hand, and guides it to your entrance. He stops kissing you to make sure you're ready for him.

"Can I be inside you now, darling?" He asks quietly. You nod at him, and he slowly pushes into you. You gasp loudly, gripping his back even harder. Eddie gives you a moment to adjust to him, and you kiss him again to signal the 'OK' for him to move. He starts to thrust in and out of you at a gentle pace, wanting to take his time with you. You wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to bring him closer to you, to go deeper inside of you. He takes the hint and snaps his hips once, your eyes roll back into your skull as he hits your g spot perfectly.

"Jesus, fuck. Keep doing that." You plead, and he obeys your request. Eddie begins hammering into you mercilessly, making you cry out so loud. You worry the neighbors might hear you through the thin walls of your apartment, but you decide it doesn't matter. You just want to enjoy making love to your beautiful boyfriend. The rest of the world can go to hell as long as Eddie can fuck you into oblivion. You feel a familiar knot building inside you, burning brighter than the sun. You and Eddie are slick with sweat, clinging to one another as he continues to pound you into next week.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're so fucking wet, I'm getting close already." Eddie says before attacking your neck and tits with his teeth. You moan as he adds more marks to your skin, you'll look like a leopard by the time he's done with you. You can't wait to look in the mirror in the morning, admiring every last blue and purple spot Eddie gives you. There's something about him giving you hickies that drives you mad. It stirs a primal feeling in you, reminding you that you belong to him. And you couldn't have picked a better man to belong to.

"I'm close too, love. Keep going, cum with me." You practically beg him, feeling the knot winding tighter and tighter. Eddie keeps up the pace, tricky as it is with how slippery you both are. His hand reaches down between you to circle your clit, his thumb moving rapidly. He's chasing your high as much as he's after his. He loves cumming with you, it feels so special to him. You truly become one, even if just for a moment or two. Eddie loves you so much, more than he ever thought he could love anyone. And he knows you feel exactly the same.

As he feels his own high start to overtake him, he gently pinches your clit. The knot inside you finally snaps, and your cunt clamps down on his dick. You moan simultaneously, practically screaming. Once again your legs tremble, hips thrusting upwards out of habit. Eddie chokes out another moan as his cum fills you up. You can feel it spilling into you, mixing with your own release. He collapses onto you, holding you close as your orgasms fade away. Your shared sweat turns cold, making you shiver. Eddie pulls out of you, taking a moment to look in awe as your mixed arousal drips out of you and onto the bed. He stands, getting a damp towel from the bathroom to clean you up. He also goes over to the closet to give you one of his Hellfire shirts. You slip it over your head, warming back up again. He tosses the towel into the hamper across the room. You hold your arms out to him, making grabby hands to signal you want him to cuddle you.

He nods, slipping on some fresh boxers. He climbs back into bed with you, pulling the covers up to your chests. You lay on your side, facing him. "I love you, Eddie. You make me so unbelievably happy." Your fingers gently play with the small amount of hair on his chest.

"I love you too, Y/N. I'm the luckiest man in the world to have landed a woman like you." His hand covers yours, flattening them together over his heart. You feel it beating rapidly, still excited from your previous activities. He pulls you closer to him, tangling his legs with yours. Eddie kisses you passionately, and you return the kiss with the same equal devotion. Your heart swells with how loved you feel right now. The kiss is eventually broken by both of you yawning. You giggle at how wide Eddie's mouth gets, he looks like a lion when he yawns. "What's so funny, princess?" He asks, his eyes lidded with sleepiness.

"Nothing, love. You're just cute when you're sleepy." You turn away from him, and he pulls you backwards to spoon you.

"So are you, babe. The cutest sleepyhead there ever was." He chuckles as his eyes drift closed. He keeps himself awake long enough to say one last thing. "Goodnight, my princess."

"Goodnight, my prince." You reply, and shortly after you join him in deep, restful sleep.

The end.

[starrystevie]

18+ | cw: somno, smut | crossposted on twitter

eddie's loud, he can't help it. in everything he does, he's big & dramatic & commands the attention of the room. it's one of the reasons steve falls for him in the first place. when they're fucking in a tiny trailer with thin walls however it becomes a problem.

it only takes getting caught once with wayne's all knowing stare the next day when steve comes to pick eddie up for a date. he snuck out the window that morning to avoid being found but it turns out eddie's loud mouth did the work for them the night before.

if anything, steve's proud that he can fuck eddie enough that he can't keep his mouth shut. turn his brain and limbs to mush as he rattles out curse after curse, praise after praise. proud that he can get eddie so thoroughly fucked that his name is echoing off the walls.

at first it was cute, bending down to smother eddie's mouth with a kiss to swallow yet another too loud moan. at first they'd giggle when eddie would shout steve's name as he hit his favorite spot that set his nerves on fire. at first steve would whisper filth in his ear hoping he'd take the hint and quiet down to his level, slowing his hips to roll in an agonizing pace. but nothing worked. steve would still pound into him and eddie would still yell like they had the world all to themselves.

"you should just fuck me when i'm passed out," eddie moaned as they took advantage of wayne's overnight shift. "it'll -fuck- it'll be like the best wet dream i could ever have."

steve's hips stuttered as he thought about it, and then picked up even harder when he pictured it. "yeah? want me to keep you quiet, baby?"

it didn't take long for them to finish, took even less time to start round two after they got hard again while planning out the details. turns out they both are a little too into the idea of steve taking him apart when he's asleep.

the first time, eddie wakes up halfway through while steve is blowing him and is too excited to go back to sleep so he resorts to biting into a pillow to keep quiet. the second time, steve's too afraid of eddie waking up again so he settles with fucking into his own fist and then coming all over his bare ass. eddie wakes up while the sun rises to the sheets stuck to him with his cock hard and red which gets them both going again.

they finally hit the sweet spot after a while of trial and error.

they fall asleep curled around each other like they always do, only this time eddie's ass has been thoroughly stretched and steve falls asleep with his half hard cock nestled between his cheeks. when steve inevitably wakes up, skin sweaty where the two are pressed together, the fun can begin.

it doesn't take too long for him to get hard again, it doesn't take too long for him to slip his freshly lubed fingers into his ass, it doesn't take too long for him to get his cock fully surrounded by heat as he slides fully into eddie.

eddie snuffles against the pillow and steve freezes, an excited panic thrumming through his veins, until his boyfriend quiets back down with one final small whimper. he rolls his hips slowly, listens to the ambient noise in the trailer for any signs of someone else being awake and gently brings his hand up to cover eddie's mouth. just in case. just like eddie asked for however many times ago.

fucking into eddie when he's pliant is everything steve could have dreamed up. nothing will compare to being able to fuck exactly how they like to, loud and electric and fast and perfect, but this? grinding his hips with his nose pressed into the back of eddie's head, every inch of him on edge as he waits to either get caught or succeed, is a thrill in and of itself.

he comes probably too fast, too turned on by the whole thing. he comes buried deep in eddie, twitching out every last drop, keeping his hips pressed close. he comes with his mouth wide open on eddie's neck, teeth skimming over sensitive skin, whispering out curses that even the best ears couldn't hear because they're only meant for eddie's.

steve pulls out, sleepy & sated, reaching down to run his fingers through the mess of come & lube that follows. eddie whimpers something quiet & sweet so steve gives him his fingers against his lips like a reward for being good. for being quiet. for trusting steve like he does.

eddie's sore when he wakes up in the morning. he grimaces against the pull in his ass as he goes to stand until he realizes what happens. reaches between his legs to feel how tender his hole his. looks on the sheets and sees where he came against them in his sleep.

he wakes steve up with his mouth. considers it a much deserved payback until he's squirming against the mattress & whines out eddie's name.

"you fucked me?" eddie asks as he pops off with a grin. it's not a question that needs to be answered nor is the next one. "did it work?"

steve groans as he tangles his fingers in eddie's hair, bringing his mouth back where he wants it. mutters out a few curse words as eddie trails his fingers over his balls. "what do you think?"

"i think you need to shut up before i'm the one who has to keep you quiet now."

they have wayne's schedule memorized and eddie uses his standard early saturday morning shift that day as an excuse to make steve get as loud as he can, his name echoing off the walls this time around, driving him crazy with his lips and tongue and fingers.

little do they know that wayne now has his fingers plugging his ears with a grimace, wishing he hadn't swapped shifts with gary for the day, contemplating going in to work anyway to escape his loud ass nephew and his loud ass boyfriend.

[diazsdimples]

Fuck It Friday!

Sharing a little bit of my Bucktommy spinoff of my Bathena Ranch AU, featuring baby Alfie. This wip and Alfie in particular have been my guilty pleasure over the past couple of months and I'm so happy that I've finally had some beans to write them.

Buck hurries over to his son. “What’s wrong, is he okay?” he asks, holding his arms out. Eddie surrenders the baby to his father, looking a little regretful as he passes a hand through Alfie’s soft curls. “He’s fine, just getting tired.” Eddie tickles Alfie’s cheek and the baby gives another hiccup, his lip trembling. “Too much socialising for you, huh bud! I won’t take it personally.” Buck smiles softly at his best friend’s tenderness towards his son – ever since Alfie’s birth, Eddie had been by his and Tommy’s side, helping them with cooking and cleaning, and even taking Alfie for talks around the block when Buck and Tommy were in desperate need of a nap. Alfie whimpers again before his face splits into a huge yawn. “Ohhhh, yeah, that’s a sleepy baby if I ever saw one.” Tommy smiles as he walks up behind his husband, wrapping his arms around Buck’s waist. He presses a feather-light kiss to Buck’s neck and gazes adoringly at his son over Buck’s shoulder. “Want me to take him?” “Nah, it’s okay. I’ve got it.” Buck gently bounces Alfie as he makes his way back to his chair beside Bobby. The fire captain gives Buck a fond look and stretches out a hand to gently brush against the back of Alfie’s onesie, before returning to his conversation with Karen. The volume levels are still quite loud, aided by Jee, Christopher and Denny’s animated conversation about which Disney film is the best. Jee seems firmly stuck on Moana and will not accept Christopher and Denny’s suggestion of Mulan. Alfie can’t seem to settle, wriggling in Buck’s arms until he lets out a frustrated cry. “Shhh sweetheart, it’s okay,” Buck soothes, adjusting Alfie so he’s lying on Buck’s shoulder. “Daddy’s here.”

Bonus: Tommy introducing Alfie to the horses & tags under the cut

The horses trot towards Tommy as he runs his hand along the fence of their paddock, hopeful he’ll slip them an apple slice or some sugar cubes. Clover tosses her mane, the long silky strands flowing behind her like finely spun gold. Ranger – Bobby’s grey gelding – snorts and paws at the ground, nudging Tommy’s arm with his blunt nose. Tommy chuckles and rubs Ranger’s nose, enjoying the velvety feeling beneath his fingers. “Hey boy,” he says as he scratches along Ranger’s jaw. Clover seems content to let him get all the attention, nosing instead at the small bundle strapped to Tommy’s front. She huffs out a breath of air and gives Tommy an almost quizzical look. Tommy smiles. “That’s right, you haven’t met this little guy yet, have you?” He opens the wrap, revealing the top of Alfie’s head which he supports with his hand. Alfie’s mouth hangs wide open as he sleeps and there’s a patch of drool on Tommy’s shirt. “This is my little boy, Alfie. He's only a couple of weeks old, but he's the most precious thing in my life, aside from Evan.” The horses toss their heads at the small, weird looking thing in Tommy’s arms, but Clover takes a step forward and nudges him with her nose, gentler than she would do to Tommy. Alfie stirs in Tommy’s arms but doesn’t wake.  “I never thought I'd have a son, so this is kind of surreal to me you know?” Tommy continues. “He's so small and precious, and he relies on me or Evan for everything and it's nice? To be needed?” Tommy finds that he doesn’t struggle to say this to the horses. He’s been thinking it for weeks, how he never thought he’d find a man who would love him enough to want to start a family with him, and he never dreamed he’d have a baby as perfect as his son. He’s biased, of course, but every word he says to the horses is founded in truth. It all still feels like a dream to him. Tommy clears his throat, pushing aside the emotion threatening to well up.  “Anyways, this is him, you can sniff his head if you like.” He moves closer and Ranger snuffles at Alfie’s head. The fine hairs on Alfie’s head swirl as Ranger breathes out. “He smells really good, which apparently is common for newborns,” Tommy continues with a grin. He scratches behind Ranger’s ears before letting out a long sigh. “I should probably take him back inside or Evan will worry. He's a little clingy of Alfie right now, but don't tell him I said that.” He gives Ranger one last pat and rubs Clover’s nose fondly before turning around and making his way back to the house.

NP tagging friends/mutuals (feel free to ignore) @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @buckera @watchyourbuck

@bidisasterevankinard @babybibuck @bibuckbuckgoose @actuallyitsellie @bucks-daddy-issues

@wikiangela @loveyouanyway @spotsandsocks @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @thekristen999

@tommysdaddykink @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss @monsterrae1 @bigfootsmom

@perfectlysunny02 @inell @agenttommykinard @buckevantommy @bucksbignaturals (lmk if you want adding or removing for this wip)

[munsonsmixtapes]

lmao i’m a lil embarrassed for asking but i can’t help it now that i saw you said to send in a request. can we have more virgin!eddie x experienced!reader? maybe she’s teaching him how to eat her out properly and she’s surprised by how into he is and how eager he is to please? with some cute puppy eddie fluff pleeeease 😇 lol doesn’t have to be this at all tbh, just anything with that pairing fr 😅

No need to be embarrassed, lovely! I absolutely love this request and pairing! I was actually thinking about writing more about them, if people are interested!

virgin!Eddie x experienced!reader

cw: oral (f receiving)

This is a continuation of this post!

After your first time with Eddie, you had made it a very regular thing. It didn’t matter whose place you ended up at, but you’d always end up in bed together. You’d be tangled up in the sheets either until the early morning or until you couldn’t walk, whichever came first.

And there was never any foreplay or much kissing involved either. You’d just get straight into the act, desperate to have Eddie’s dick inside you every single time. And you were addicted to the feeling, loving how confident he was becoming after you had been sleeping together for a while.

He was now shameless about the noises he made and it almost seemed like he was making them supper loud because he knew just how wet it always made you. He was getting really good, almost better than you which you didn’t think was possible.

There was something about being with him that felt so different from being with anyone else. He actually seemed to want to enjoy his time with you as opposed to the others who were just looking to take whatever it was that they wanted from you. Eddie was actually concerned about making you feel good and wanted to be sure that you were enjoying it just as much as him.

You and Eddie were in your bed for the third time that week and but found yourselves only making out. No clothes had been removed and the two of you seemed pretty content with just kissing while sensual music played in the background.

His lips moved with yours and your mind started to wonder what his mouth would feel like on your cunt. You knew he hadn’t eaten anyone out, but maybe you could have taught him. Maybe if he told him exactly what to do, he’d be able to do it, making you feel so much pleasure.

You pulled away from him and looked at his face. His pupils were blown and his lips were pink and swollen from all the kisses you had shared. He was so adorable that it hurt with his big brown eyes that were always filled with so much love and his hair that was always messy even after he had just brushed it.

“I did something wrong, didn’t I?” He was always asking that and it made you feel bad that that was always a thought in the back of his head. Even if he did do something “wrong” you would tell him nicely and help him correct it.

“No, no,” you shook your head and moved your hand up to wrap one of his curls around your finger, twirling it around the digit. “I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to…eat me out?”

Eddie nodded his head vigorously and his eyes went wide. He was definitely more up for it than you had anticipated and that made you feel better about the whole thing.

“I can definitely do that,” he nodded again. “But…I don’t know how.”

“I could coach you through it,” you told him, a small smile kicked up at the corner of his mouth.

“You’d do that?” Of course you would have.

“Mhm,” you replied. “Do you want to?” He wanted nothing more and was getting so hard thinking about having his head between your thighs.

“So bad, baby,” his hands squeezed your hips. “You have no idea.”

You both sat up and Eddie got off of you, unsure where to place himself and you took him by the hands, wanting to have a discussion before anything started. You wanted to make sure that he knew that he could back out at any point and that he didn’t have to do it just to please you if he wasn’t enjoying it.

He nodded along as you spoke, taking in every single word as if they were very important to him. All of the talks you had had about consent were just as important to him to listen as they were to you to speak them.

“Alright, um, you’re going to want to get on your knees at the foot of the bed.” He listened and quickly got off the bed and lowered himself to his knees on the rug underneath him. You followed and placed yourself in front of him and took him by the hands.

You guided them up to the band of your panties and he slowly pulled them down your legs before setting them on the floor. He then slowly rested his hands on your knees and spread your legs, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time to make sure that it was okay. His eyes then drifted to your sopping wet pussy and you could see his cheeks blush.

“You’re soaked,” he let out a chuckle.

“Mhm,” you bit your bottom lip. “And it’s all for you, baby.” His cheeks flushed even more and you thought it was funny that you could make him do that just form a little comment. “Whenever you’re ready, drape a leg over each shoulder.

He did the action so quickly so you could tell that he was eager to get to it. He had definitely wanted it just as much as you did and that made you even more wet.

“Now when you get your face into it, use your tongue and lick back and forth to start.” He buried his face into your pussy and you let out a gasp as his nose brushed the sensitive skin.

He licked back and forth and you clutched the blanket underneath you as pleasure rolled through you. He kept going and you told him to suck on the spot which he did, eliciting a moan from you. He licked and sucked and you gripped the blanket even harder as your back arched in euphoria.

“You taste so good,” he told you before diving back in and you felt his teeth graze the sensitive spot, wondering where the hell he had learned that, but before you could ask, another moan fell from your lips.

“Sh-shit, Eddie.”

“You like that?” He laughed, loving that he was able to make you come undone for a change.

“Fuck, do that again.” He was quick to oblige and shoved his face back into your cunt, grazing it with his teeth once more and you reached your climax, letting out what Eddie thought was the loudest moan he had ever heard and was eager to hear it again.

“Could eat you all night, darling. Swear to god. Taste so fucking good.” He then replaced his teeth with his tongue, shoving as much of the muscle as he could inside of you and your back arched again as your knees pressed against his head.

Your moans has been muffled by your knees, but he could still hear them clearly as he continued to lick, suck, and graze it with his teeth. You had been eaten out more time than you could count, but this one was definitely the best out of them all. First off, he seemed so eager to please you, wanting to make you feel good. And he also loved the way you tasted, making sure to let you know while others didn’t seem to care enough to.

That was the difference. Eddie cared. He cared so much and always felt the need to tell you how much he was enjoying himself while making sure that you felt the same. It was all so important to him and that made you feel special even though you knew he would have done the same for anyone else.

Eddie removed his face from your cunt and you sat up, your breathing still labored as you looked down at him. You noticed slick dripping from his chin and just as you were about to let him know, he made direct eye contact with you and ran his tongue along his chin, getting every last drop before pulling his tongue back into his mouth.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you told him and pushed him to the ground before pressing your lips to his in a bruising kiss before licking into his mouth. “And by the way, you can eat me out anytime you want.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he grinned and you pulled him into another kiss, neither of you bothering to get back into the bed as you removed your clothes for the first fuck of the night, knowing that Eddie could please you just as much as you pleased him.

[solarmorrigan]

Requested by @westifer-dead (I think?? I hope that was directed at me)

This probably wasn't what you had in mind, but in my defense, it absolutely was not what I planned on writing. It sorta snuck up on me. I hope this is okay, though <3

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

Prompt from this post

Tags/CW: transmasc Steve, fairly explicit depiction of menstruation, resulting mentions of blood, mentions of dysphoria, Steve's internal dialogue is rather unkind to himself in this one (soft ending, though??)

-

Steve’s first, horrified thought when he wakes feeling an uncomfortable amount of damp sticking his boxers to his skin is that he’s somehow managed to piss the bed.

The immediate wakefulness caused by that thought, however, is enough to give him a second one – particularly when he feels the ache low in his gut and spreading down his hips as he rolls over to toss the covers back and reveal the red stain on both his underwear and the sheets.

Fuck.

He’s early.

His period shouldn’t have been along for another couple of days, at least, and Steve hadn’t even thought about putting on a pad before getting into bed—he glances at the clock—two hours ago.

“Motherfucker,” Steve hisses.

He’d gotten home from the world’s most frustrating late shift sometime after midnight and had actually managed to get to sleep by one, and now his body is pulling this shit on him – waking him with pain and mess at three in the goddamn morning, days before it had any right to. And now his boxers are probably toast, and the sheets might be salvageable but he’s going to have to get up and change them right now, and he’s so fucking tired, and it’s three in the morning, and when he shifts to sit up, he’s caught for a moment by the sticky-slick feeling of blood drying against his skin.

He does his best to swallow back the feeling of nausea that creeps up on him at the sensation,  but it’s something he hasn’t had the stomach for since being covered in Eddie’s blood after hauling him out of the Upside Down, and the cramps really aren’t helping.

It’s for all these reasons that he’s probably less gentle than he could be when he reaches over to shake Eddie awake.

“Eddie, wake up.”

Eddie groans and rolls over, curling up with his back to Steve.

Steve huffs and gives him a shove. “Eddie.”

“S’early,” Eddie grumbles. “G’way.”

Normally, Steve doesn’t mind Eddie’s steadfast refusal to wake up for anything less than three alarms and the promise of coffee. Sometimes he even has fun with it, seeing how quickly he can rouse Eddie with other sorts of promises. Right now, though, he has less than no patience, and he grabs his pillow and whacks Eddie in the side with it.

“Wake up!”

“Whatthefuck,” Eddie gasps, bolting upright and glancing around the room for his assailant.

Later, Steve might feel bad; for now, he only drawls, “You awake now?”

“Did you hit me with a pillow?” Eddie demands, eyeing the weapon in Steve’s hands.

“You wouldn’t wake up,” Steve says. “I need you to get up for a minute.”

“What? Why, what’s– oh.” Eddie much catch sight of the mess as Steve twists to shove the pillow back behind himself. “Shit.”

Steve’s face heats with embarrassment. “Shut up,” he snaps. “Just get out of the bed.”

Clumsily, Eddie moves to obey. “I didn’t mean–”

“It’s– never mind, I shouldn’t have snapped, sorry, just–” Steve sighs. “Just let me change the sheets.

He strips the comforter from the bed and rolls it up to toss it into the chair in the corner of the room to be put back on when he’s done, but he doesn’t make it much farther before his body betrays him with another wave of squeezing cramps and a dribble of blood sliding down the inside of his thigh from under the loose leg of his boxers.

He swears and lunges for the tissue box on his bedside table to catch the drip before it can hit the floor, and he can hear Eddie hiss a breath in through his teeth – it’s probably in sympathy, Steve recognizes distantly, but in the moment he still feels like he might die of shame.

“Let me– let me get cleaned up. Just a minute,” Steve mutters, balling the tissue up in his fist and making for the dresser. “Then I’ll finish with the sheets.”

“Why don’t you go take a quick shower?” Eddie suggests quietly. “I can finish the sheets.”

Yanking a pair of briefs out of the dresser, Steve slams the drawer shut. “I can clean up my own damn mess, Eddie.”

“I know you can, but you don’t have to,” Eddie says, much more patiently than Steve probably deserves. “I’m betting you’ll feel ten times better if you get the chance to rinse off, so go ahead. You know how much I love wrestling with the fitted sheet.”

Steve should probably say no. It’s stupid to make Eddie clean up after him when he’s perfectly capable of doing it himself.

He should say no, but he doesn’t want to.

He glances back at Eddie, who looks nothing but sincere in his offer, and nods. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and Eddie gives him a little smile and a nod in return.

In the bathroom, Steve makes the water as hot as he can stand it and pops two Advil before stripping and shoving his boxers straight into the trash. If he tried hard enough, he might be able to get the stain out, but he doesn’t have the mental fortitude to contemplate doing that right now. His t-shirt has been spared any blood, but he puts it in the hamper to be washed, anyway. It just feels dirty now.

There are some months where Steve’s period comes and goes without any fuss; it’s an inconvenience and a bit of a drain, but hardly worth comment. Then there are some months that shove Steve headfirst into ten different stages of dysphoria and various neuroses for no apparent reason.

This one feels like it’s going to be the latter.

Even once he’s standing under the shower spray, the blood already sluiced down the drain, Steve doesn’t feel like he’s ever going to be clean again. He knows it’s his shitty brain lying to him, he knows that the feeling will go away in a few days—a week, at most—but that doesn’t help him now.

He wastes an extra ten minutes in the shower, trying to convince himself he’s only staying in because the hot water is helping his cramps (only partially true; he’s so tense that they haven’t really abated, and in fact have crawled up his sides now, seizing on the scar tissue from his bat bites and yanking his whole abdomen in tight, but he’s hoping it will help with his cramps), but he does eventually manage to force himself out and dry off.

With the fuck-off-biggest pad he owns shoved into his underwear, Steve heads back to the bedroom and stops short inside the door.

The lights are still dim, and Eddie is waiting up for him, sitting against the pillows with his book. He’s not only changed the sheets and fixed the comforter, but he’s laid out a pair of pajamas for Steve – the exact pair he prefers when he’s having a particularly bad day. And for some reason, that’s it for Steve.

The tears hit before he can even try to choke them off, and Eddie must not be very immersed in his book, because the first ragged breath is enough to alert him to the fact that something is wrong.

He looks almost wounded when he catches sight of Steve standing in the doorway like a weepy idiot, and Steve would feel bad, but Eddie’s already up and out of the bed and coming towards Steve with his arms open in offering.

And with anyone else, Steve would shy away; this isn’t a part of him that anyone needs to see, this weakness and inability to cope. But from Eddie– even as stupid as Steve feels right now, he knows he doesn’t have much that he needs to hide from a man who will help him clean up his own blood and then offer to hold him while he cries about it.

He accepts the hug, allows himself to be led back over to the bed and sat down, and then lets himself be held.

Eddie presses his lips to Steve’s forehead and then swipes his thumbs over Steve’s cheeks, wiping away whatever tears fall and kissing him there, too, like he can replace the evidence of his distress with love.

And hell, maybe he can.

In a while, Steve will want to get dressed and they’ll both need some actual rest, but for now, Steve thinks he’s more than willing to sit and let Eddie try.

[spookykoolkat]

eddie munson blurb | after work

idk wat this is i just thought about it cus why not lol

tw // 18+ only, smut blurb, fingering, touching,

_____

eddie loved seeing you asleep in bed when he got home from work. a long day of standing and talking to customers about his favorite records wasn't the worst, but coming home to see you snuggled into his sheets and pillows made it worth it.

he was also very pleased when you decided to change out the style of panties you wore. he didn't mind the skimpy ones you liked to wear, he loved them, but something short circuited in his brain when he came home to see you in your usual sleeping position, in fetal position with no blanket covering you because you were snuggling it like a pillow.

the curve of your ass was steep, and all he could see where the boy shorts you decided to throw on after your shower.

he didn't know you could look any sexier sleeping, but like this? the fabric of the tiny boy shorts was stuck between your ass, riding up enough to bite into the curve of your waist so he could see your bare hip.

and still in his uniform, he practically wiggles into bed with you and snuggles into your back. his hand liked to play explorer as he rubbed the dip of your waist down to the curve of your ass, ghosting his fingers up and down the crack of your ass through your underwear.

"baby," he whispered in your ear, letting his fingers lift the waistband up and tease the fat of your cunt.

"mmmm," you hummed, slowly gaining consciousness as you became aware of the feeling. you slowly shift to face him, making his touch pull away from you just to be connected again as he threw his arm over your waist to pull you in.

"you're home," you smiled sleepily into his chest.

"i am, baby, you miss me?" he asked, letting his hands go down to grab your ass.

"a lot," you answered and kissed the shirt that was on his chest, your hands sliding up under it and resting them on his bare chest. your hands were so cold compared to his, and he loved it.

his hands on your body didn't help the wetness that grew between your legs, especially since you did touch yourself before he came home. all you could think about was him, and when he was going to fill you again.

"like a lot," you whimpered and tugged at the belt on his jeans, unbuckling it and doing your best to wiggle your hand in his pants.

he lets you, nothing but a smile on his face as he feels you reach inside his underwear to palm his soft skin. you always loved feeling eddie.

"i missed you more," he bantered, his hands still gripping at the fat of your ass and thighs, "let me treat my baby right, looked so pretty for me sleeping like this,"

he moved his hips into your hand, letting you start to stroke his hardening cock. his hands traveled down your ass and into your underwear to spread your ass cheeks, teasing both if your holes from behind with you pressed into his chest.

"gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy? or do you wanna make me cum in my pants before i can cum in you?" he asked and you smiled, looking up at him. you felt his fingers start to rub your hole and you hummed in satisfaction, never getting used to the feeling of when eddie fingered you.

"why can't you do both?" you suggested innocently. his fingers were curled inside of you as you pulled his cock out of his underwear, stroking the tip with his precum.

"you're a bad influence," he teased, sinking his fingers all the way inside of you to watch your face curl into pleasure.

"maybe you shouldn't be around me then," you sighed in a moan, eddie's fingers never failing to fill you up. he enjoyed feeling you squeeze his fingers the way you did, he loved knowing he'd be the only one to feel you like this.

"where's the fun in that?"

-

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-

-

check out my kinktober masterlist! going 2 try to post daily :p thank u for reading and all of the reblogs and likes! 🩷🖤🩷🖤

[munson-blurbs]

hii 🫶🏻 i've had this idea of the reader and eddie being at a halloween party and her drink getting spiked (roofied or wtv) and like eddie comes to the rescue and takes care of her - enemies to slight lovers pls!! have a good day/night :))

Hi! I changed it a bit so that her drink was spiked with extra booze, but I kept it enemies-to-lovers!

Warnings: underage drinking (everyone is over 18 but under 21), reader's drink gets spiked, drunkenness, brief mention of Eddie dealing, Billy Hargrove needs his own warning tbh, enemies-to-lovers, idiots in love

WC: 2.5k

Thank you so much to @corroded-hellfire @lofaewrites and @manda-panda-monium for their help! Y'all made this fic much stronger, and I am indebted to you.

--

A brief, incomplete list of activities you enjoy: grabbing coffee with a few friends, walks down by Lover’s Lake powered by whatever cassette you’ve jammed into your WalkMan, reading a good book and curling up in the sunlight streaming through your bedroom window.

A brief, incomplete list of activities you despise: Steve Harrington’s house parties.

The bass from the stereo has the entire downstairs shaking, and you wince as you pass by it and make your way to Nancy. She’s the reason why you’ve started coming to these stupid things, and although Steve isn’t as big of a tool as you’d previously thought, it doesn’t make other people more tolerable.

“You having a good time?” Nancy asks now, bouncing along with the music. Her eyes are hazy with booze; her half-filled cup of the jungle juice concoction is clearly far from her first of the evening.

You shrug, hitching your bag close to your shoulder as a beast of a man in a letterman jacket pushes his way through the crowd. “Not really.”

“Cool, awesome!” Nancy chirps, senses compromised by the constant flow of alcohol and the blasting music. 

Steve has his arm around her waist, pressing chaste kisses to her neck. He looks up at you for just a second and frowns. “Where’s your drink?”

You jingle the car keys you’ve had clenched in your fist the whole night, ready to make a getaway as early as you can. “Designated driver. Unless you want José Cuervo behind the wheel tonight,” you raise your brows as you motion to your friend.

Steve shakes his head. “Nance is gonna stay here with me tonight,” he tells you, taking Nancy’s cup from her hand and placing it in yours. “She’s had enough, anyway. So, uh, go crazy.”

Go crazy. It’s tempting to dull the roar of the dozen or so conversations worming their way into your consciousness. And no doubt it’ll be easier to slap a fake smile on your face and even join one of them. But you still have to get home somehow, and the thought of asking either of your overbearing parents for a ride home from a party has your stomach in knots, especially considering you’d told them you were going to the library and sleeping at the Wheeler’s. 

Instead of going crazy, you toss the couple a frustrated eye roll, but they’re both too enmeshed in their puppy love for each other to catch it. Home. You just need to get home, snug in your own bed, away from–

“Hey, Goody Two-Shoes!” Billy Hargrove flings his muscular arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him despite your clear lack of interest. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s bad etiquette to bring down the party vibe?”

 “Get offa me,” you grumble, but his strength easily overpowers yours. 

“What you need,” he continues, stifling a beer-scented belch, “is to fuckin’ loosen up.” He punctuates his statement by placing one beefy hand on each of your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. He stumbles a bit in his drunken state, and you seize the opportunity to step away from him.

The entire encounter makes the drink in your hand even more tempting, and you throw it back without another thought. Your throat burns with the sting of alcohol, and you wince reflexively. Jeez, if this is what Nancy’s been drinking all night, no wonder she’s wasted, you think, grateful that you only had half of the cup.

Eddie Munson arrives when the party is in full swing, lunch box of illicit substances gripped tight in his hands. He hates spending time with these jockstraps outside of school, but parties are a great way to make some extra cash, and rich douchebags like King Steve practically throw the money at him, too drunk and lazy to actually count it out.

He sees you out of the corner of his eye, swaying to the music alongside Billy Hargrove. You’re leaning into him, with his hand around your waist pulling you into him. You laugh loudly, though it doesn’t appear that Billy’s said anything.

What a weird pair, Eddie muses, comparing your usual type-A, pain-in-the-ass, teacher’s pet personality with Billy’s thoughtlessness and indifference. He watches as Billy nonchalantly refills your drink and grabs your backside.

When Billy notices Eddie, he props you against the counter and murmurs something before staggering over to buy something. “What do you have tonight, Munson?”

“The usual,” Eddie replies casually, placing the tin box on the kitchen table and flipping it open. “So, uh, looks like Goody-Two Shoes is having a good time.”

Billy chuckles, twirling a toothpick across his lips. It’s a menacing laugh, and Eddie doesn’t care for the sound of it. “Yeah, she needed a little help, but I took care of it.”

He really doesn’t like that. “What do you mean?”

“Slipped a little extra in her drink when she wasn’t looking,” Billy whispers, flashing Eddie a now-empty mini bottle of tequila. “Shit was pretty strong to begin with, but she’s definitely feeling it now.”

“You spiked her drink?” Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and he snaps the lunch box shut. When Billy just laughs again, Eddie shoves him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Billy holds his hands up in defense. “Hey, man, you can’t blame a guy for doing what he has to do to get laid. Especially when it’s someone as uptight as her.”

Rage pounds in Eddie’s ears, and he barely hears anything after that. He marches towards you, fists clenched. You weren’t his favorite person, and he wasn’t yours–not after what happened in health last year–but he’d be damned if he let you get taken advantage of.

“Hey,” he says softly, tapping your shoulder to grab your attention. “Let me get you home.”

You sloppily shake your head, jungle juice sloshing over the side of the cup. “‘M fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He’s insistent, tone much harsher than his usual carelessness. “You’re absolutely plastered, and I’m taking you home.” He extends his hand, and you reluctantly take it, letting him lead you to his van. Your feet are bricks beneath you, and you giggle involuntarily as you trip over them.

“Munson, what the fuck?” Billy calls out, charging over. His own stride isn’t much more graceful than yours; the Keg Stand Champion having reclaimed his title earlier in the evening. “Get your own girl.” He reaches for your bicep to tug you away, but Eddie’s faster, which only makes the jock’s eyes stonier. “Fucking freak!” he calls out, quickly downing another plastic cup of beer.

Your eyelids begin to close, and slurred words leave your lips. “Whas’ goin’ on? Why’s Billy shhh-so mad?”

Eddie ignores your question, not wanting to slow down and risk Billy catching up to you. Once he’s safely got you in the passenger seat, he starts the ignition and glances at where you’re leaning against the window. “Where to?”

“Home.”

“Right, and, uh…where might that be?”

You shrug, body heavier with sleep by the second. “Dunno.”

“Like an address, or a general direction…anything?” Eddie drums his ringed fingers against the steering wheel. He sighs and throws the van in reverse when you shake your head. “All right, looks like you’re staying at mine.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, stealing a peek at you every minute or so. You’re sleeping, soft snores punctuating the otherwise silent ride. He winces as he goes over a bump and puts his arm out to prevent you from falling against the dashboard. 

Twenty minutes later—it would have been fifteen, but he drove slowly to prevent jostling you too much—he’s pulling up to his trailer. “Welcome to Casa Munson.” He opens his door with a dramatic grunt and shuffles around to your side. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.” If any of the neighbors see him, they’ll assume the worst, but it’s either that or have you sleep in the van. 

The last thing you remember is mumbling about needing a bed and Eddie leading you to his with an offhand comment about not knowing where the stains are from. When you wake the next morning, a jackhammer has replaced your brain and your throat is filled with bile. 

“Ugh, fuck,” you groan, pulling your sheet up over your eyes to shield them from the sun. Except this isn’t the baby pink set your mom bought you from Wal-Mart. These sheets are white and smell like cigarettes, weed, and drugstore cologne. The realization that this isn’t your room has you jolting up in bed despite your body’s protests. “What the hell?”

“Good morning to you, too,” a voice grumbles from below. You look down to see Eddie Munson laying on the floor, a towel rolled below his head in a makeshift pillow. A throw blanket covers from his shoulders to just above his ankles, leaving his sweat sock-clad feet exposed. “There’s some water and pretzels next to you, and I can grab Advil if you need.”

You nod, squeezing your eyelids together at the pain the slight head movement causes. “Yes, please.” He returns with the medicine, and you eagerly swallow it with a gulp of water. A quick assessment assures you that your clothes are still on, but you still have to ask, “did we…”

“Nope. No way. Not even a little.” He takes a seat next to you, offering the pretzel canister. Though your stomach is churning, you need something to absorb the medicine, so you take a handful and carefully munch on them. “But you had quite the offer last night.”

“Wha—?”

“Hargrove spiked your drink to get you in bed,” he explains. His mop of curls is disheveled from tossing and turning, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “And, uh, not to sleep.”

“Yeah, I gathered that,” you mutter. A fresh wave of nausea washes over you, and it’s not from the hangover. Your memories are muddled, but you can vaguely piece the night together: Nancy and Steve, the unfinished drink, Billy’s arm around you… “We left before he could do anything, right?”

Eddie nods, stealing the plastic water bottle from your grasp and taking a swig. He swishes it around his mouth before answering. “Got you outta there before he could even cop a feel.”

You grimace at his brazen response. “Well, um, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” You start to stand up, fumbling for your keys in your bag when you remember. “Fuck, my car’s still at Steve’s.”

“I can take you,” Eddie offers, grabbing the jeans he’d haphazardly flung over his desk chair. 

“Nah, s’okay. I can walk.”

“Seriously?” He throws his hands in the air, utterly exasperated with you. “You’d rather walk three miles back to Harrington’s—hungover as shit…looking like that,” he gestures vaguely at your smeared makeup and bloodshot eyes, “than take a ride from me?”

You remain quiet, so he proceeds with his rant. 

“Y’know, when you ditched me last year, I figured you weren’t, like, into me or whatever. But, Christ, what did I do to make you hate my guts?”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “I ditched you?” The thunderous headache makes it difficult to wrack your brain for the memory, but you definitely would recall ditching Eddie Munson. “I never did that.”

“Last April,” he begins, tone clipped and direct, “the night we were supposed to finish our health project—”

“You ditched me.”

He shakes his head. “Uh, no. I invited you to see my band play and then we would finish the project after—which you agreed to—and then you never showed.”

“No, you told me, and I quote, ‘Corroded Coffin has a gig at The Hideout at 8, and we can put the poster together after we play.”

“Exactly!”

“Exactly what?” It hurts to roll your eyes, but you do it anyway just to emphasize the absurdity of the situation. “That wasn’t an invitation; that was just you telling me what time the show starts.”

“What time it starts,” he says slowly, as though explaining it to a child. “If I just wanted to meet up for the project, I would’ve told you what time it ends.” His eyes narrow. “Do you really think I spent all that time doing research with you just to flake when we got to do the creative part?”

The missing pieces shift into the puzzle. You’d been thrown off when Eddie had failed to show that night; you’d genuinely thought the two of you had forged some kind of friendship during your evenings at the Hawkins Library. But when midnight had rolled around, you’d given up altogether, gathered your notes, and made the poster alone. 

“I…I didn’t know…” you muse, mouth drier than it was before you’d drank water. “I thought you forgot, or didn’t care…” You press a tooth into your bottom lip and gnaw at the chapped skin. “Trust me, I never would’ve ditched the guy I—”

You’d tried to cut yourself off before Eddie catches what you’d inadvertently implied, but it’s too late. “The guy you…” he gently goads. When you don’t answer, he sits on the bed next to you and knocks his knee against yours. “Would it help if I told you that you’re the girl I…” He tilts his head and peers at you through his deep brown eyes.

“Me?!” There’s no way he’s serious; you brace yourself for the ‘gotcha’ or some other punchline he’ll inevitably toss your way.

To your surprise, there is none. “What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m a total sucker for a goody-two shoes.” He stands up again, crossing his arms over his chest and pacing back and forth in the tiny room. “So, since I’m the guy that you…and you’re the girl that I…can I interest you in some of the finest hangover food this town has to offer?”

“Can I brush my teeth first?” You grimace at the tang of last night’s tequila that sticks to your molars. “Unless you also happen to be into girls with wicked morning breath.”

He chuckles, a true and hearty laugh, and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. “Spare toothbrush is in the top drawer,” he says, pointing towards the bathroom. 

Once minty freshness has replaced stale booze, you wash the remnants of your makeup off of your face. You look a bit better; tired and hungover, but better.

Eddie’s dressed in ripped jeans and a faded concert tee, keys clenched in his palm. “Ready?” he asks, leaning against the bedroom doorway.

“Mhm.” You feel his hand ghost the small of your back as he leads you towards the front door, sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

“Hey, by the way?” 

When you turn around, his lips are on yours. It’s soft and sweet, just a bit more than a peck, but you can tell it took every ounce of courage for him to do it. You both take a small step back, swapping shy grins.  

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

You take his empty hand and lace your fingers with his. “Does Corroded Coffin still play at the Hideout?”

“Every Tuesday at 8.”

“I’ll be there.”

--