#scarlet hawkins
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shinyboomboom · 17 hours ago
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Scarlett Hawkins
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"You’ve been buried alive in a glass coffin with a sleeping cobra on your chest. Oxygen is running out. If you try to break the coffin, you’ll wake the cobra. What do you do?’”
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ex-cult-member · 5 months ago
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Human lie detector.
@tooemotionalhere - Micheal a full blown alcoholic. Who doesn't do anything right except read emotions.
@cqssiehobbesx - Cassie.
@the-deanredding - Dean aka the way too overprotective older brother.
@sloanetownstavish - Sloane your should give her coffee for the best results coffee.
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hiscrimsonangel · 9 days ago
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If anyone is looking for something to do tonight, Eddie and Corroded Coffin will be headlining the New Year’s party at the Hideout at 11! Dustin’s band ‘ThE Party’ will be going on at 10 and of course there will be free pizza courtesy of Surfer Boy Pizza, champagne toast at midnight and party favors! Best of all it’s FREE! Any donations, cash or canned goods, accepted at the door to go to the Hawkins Helps food pantry! I’ll be there taking pictures of the night but will be happy to do a personal portrait for a small donation to the food pantry so just ask!
Happy New Year Hawkins! We will see you there!
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scarlet-bitch · 5 months ago
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You'd Have to Stop the World...
11.5k words, FWB Eddie X afab!reader, 18+ Explicit Content - MDNI, use of "baby" as a nickname, no use of y/n, little to no description of reader, set in Hawkins 1990 so everyone's aged up accordingly, no mention of upside down - could sorta be canon if you pretend vecna was defeated and eddie never got attacked by the bats but reader wouldn't know it ever existed. * fair amount of smut in this especially the beginning - it's a fwb plot so... but yes, there is plot. lots of angst and some fluff*
a/n: most of my ideas are usually inspired by a song - the concept for this came entirely through a playlist I made, so l added the track list! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading and as always, I hope you enjoy! xo, scarlet 💋
Struggling through a dry spell, an ideas comes to you when your attractive friend Eddie vents about his recent disappointing hookups. What starts as casual fun gradually complicates as physical and emotional boundaries begin to blur.
“I keep recalling things we never did / Messy top lip kiss / How I long for our trysts / Without ever touching his skin / How can I be guilty as sin?”
A few years ago, you met Eddie Munson, thanks to an introduction from your then coworkers, Robin and Steve. What began as a casual acquaintance in a larger group quickly evolved into a genuine friendship.
But as with many great friendships, a new romance - this time with Matt - changed the dynamics. As your relationship with Matt grew, so did the distance between you and Eddie. Matt didn’t like him, his dislike fueled by a few key grievances: he accused Eddie of overcharging for weed, could barely tolerate Eddie’s metal music - and was visibly irritated by the number of times you dragged him to Eddie’s shows. Yet, beneath it all, Matt’s discomfort had a more personal edge. He was convinced there was something more to your friendship, despite your insistence on its platonic nature.
“Okay, sure, whatever you say,” Matt insisted, his tone dripping with frustration. “But I’m telling you, he definitely wants to fuck you.”
Matt’s reasoning included:
• “He never makes you pay for weed.” 
⁃ Ah, the classic move of the charming drug dealer - Robin and Steve are also lucky recipients of Eddie's personal stash. Generosity? Sure. A sign of deeper feelings? Unlikely. 
• “He flirts with you.”
⁃ Eddie flirts with everyone. This isn’t a private act of seduction - it’s his default setting. And sure, before you dated Matt maybe you’d indulge in Eddie’s flirty nature but it was just all in good fun. 
• "He call's you - Baby." 
⁃ The nickname was not some romantic gesture, Eddie's just a menace. It all started after a shift at Family Video, you and Robin went back to Steve's house. Eddie made an entrance, a blunt was passed, and you started rambling about the ridiculousness of the name "Baby" in Dirty Dancing. "You know, it's funny you hate it because 'Baby' suits you perfectly," Eddie quipped. You shot him a look of annoyance, but Eddie, with that trademark grin, decided it was a keeper and has called you it ever since. 
• “The way he fucking looks at you.” 
⁃ This is where the plot thickens. While the other signs are easily explained, you didn't quite see what Matt was ever referring to. 
Yet, every time Matt voiced his theories, your mind couldn’t help but drift to thoughts of Eddie in bed. He had quite the reputation as a good fuck and it was undeniable that he was incredibly attractive. But the guilt of entertaining these thoughts, especially while with Matt, was crushing. So, you shoved them aside.
In December of '89, Matt accepted a job that meant relocating out of state. By then, your relationship had lost its spark, of course, except for the one area where it still managed to flicker - the bedroom. You both knew it was time to let go, the idea of a long distance romance wasn't practical when the only thing holding you together required physical proximity you would no longer share.
Despite it being the obvious choice - the end of nearly two years together was tough, but as the saying goes, when one door closes, another opens. With Matt no longer in the picture, your calendar quickly filled with late nights and laughter, surrounded by Robin, Steve, Eddie, and your ever expanding social circle. It was the start of a new era, as you entered the new decade. 
"These fatal fantasies / Giving way to labored breath / Taking all of me / We've already done it in my head / If it's make believe / Why does it feel like a vow / We'll both uphold somehow?"
Four months into being single, and the dry spell was becoming a cruel joke. Every date you'd been on had left much to be desired, as none of them ever ended with you on your back. Ultimately a waste of your time. 
It was an added frustration to be out with Eddie and watch him glide from one partner to the next with such ease. You even found yourself feeling a bit envious of his conquests, because the more time you began spending with him, the more you understood why Matt had his suspicions. 
On quite a few occasions, you caught Eddie's gaze lingering on you. The stolen glances and charged looks sent your heart racing. Gone were the days of pushing these thoughts away. Now, you found yourself indulging in them, late at night, hand between your thighs, wondering if the fantasies might ever become reality. 
“Don’t play dumb, I know you fantasize. You could have me on my back every night.”
One night, after having your friends over for dinner, Eddie decided to stay and chill after Robin and Steve had left. He sprawled on your couch, legs draped over the coffee table, grumbling about the monotony of his recent casual encounters and the lack of sexual chemistry he'd been experiencing.
Eddie looked at you, cutting himself off mid rant, his fingers deftly rolling a blunt. "It's cool if I smoke in here, right? Or d'ya want me to go on the balcony?" 
You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I don't usually love it, but why not for tonight?"
With a grin, Eddie continued on his ranting as he finished rolling. Lighting the blunt and taking a long drag when he finished his complaint. 
"Okay, but bad sex is more often than not, still enjoyable," you said, in response to his last comment. 
Eddie held out the blunt offering you to take a hit and while normally you’re pretty weary to cross fade, you were feeling adventurous as you grabbed it from his fingers taking a hit. 
"I get what you're saying, but nothing's been like, mind-blowing. I was getting head the other day, and I was literally counting the minutes until it was over. I think it would've been more enjoyable if I'd just taken care of myself." 
You let out a laugh, the smoke escaping in a light cloud. "You think counting maybe prolonged the experience a bit, bud?" Passing the blunt back to Eddie. 
"No, baby, the counting's what got me there." He smirked before taking another hit. 
You rolled your eyes playfully, but his words sparked thoughts of your own dissatisfaction.
The two of you sat there listening to the soft sounds of The Cure album you had on, as you took turns with the blunt. Eddie's gaze didn't leave you, his eyes focused on your lips - the movements of your mouth. The subtle way your lips parted and closed around the blunt had him entranced. 
You were too lost in your own thoughts to notice his staring. "I think this is one of those grass is greener situations. l'd take the bad sex. There's only so much I can satisfy myself, and sometimes I- well, I just want to get railed." The words slipped out before you could fully think them through but as soon as they did, you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks.
Eddie's eyes widened slightly, a blush of his own creeping onto his face as he exhaled smoke. "Oh sure." You'd always been open about discussing sex, but this was a new level of candor for you and it caught him by surprise. It also made his cock twitch.  
You weren't sure what it was - the alcohol, the pot, the adrenaline from your embarrassment, - but Eddie's complaints mixed with your own dissatisfaction sparked an idea. You set your wine glass down, turned to face him, and criss-crossed your legs on the couch.
Passing what was left of the blunt back, you asked the question that's been on your mind for weeks.
”Eddie… are you attracted to me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.
"What?" He asked as he put the blunt out.
"Eddie," you pressed. 
He chuckled, the sound a bit shaky. "Everyone thinks you're pretty, you know that."
"That's not what I asked," you countered. "I'm asking if you think I'm like, hot - not just pretty."
A smirk played on Eddie's lips as his eyes scanned over your figure, nodding. “Yeah, you’re hot,” he said, taking a sip of his beer and letting his eyes linger on how the soft fabric of your clothes hugged your chest. Truth be told, he thought you were fucking heaven sent. 
"So why haven't you made a move? I've been single for months." 
"You know me, baby. No attachments. Couldn't have you falling in love with me."
You scoffed. "Really, that's your excuse?"
His gaze met yours, a touch of defensiveness in his eyes. "It's not an excuse. It's just how I am. I don't hook up with friends, it can get messy." 
"Got it," you replied, considering letting it go, but curiosity had taken hold. "Do you ever fantasize about them, though?”
A wry smile appeared on his lips. "Depends on the friend, I guess.”
"Cut the shit, Munson.”
His smile grew. "Alright, yeah. A lot more than I probably should have.”
You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "If it's any consolation, I've fantasized about you a fair bit too.”
"Oh, yeah?" he breathed, his voice huskier than before.
"Mmm-hmm." You shook your head slowly, maintaining eye contact. You noticed the way Eddie's eyes darted down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. 
"What about?" he asked.
"I could tell you," you whispered, "or I could show you.”
Eddie's laughter was shaky as he looked away, running his hand through his hair. "Tempting," he whispered, leaning back and trying to create some distance. His arousal, however, was unmistakable. 
The room fell silent. You could see the inner conflict in his eyes: the struggle between desire and his self imposed boundaries. The sight of Eddie's hard cock straining against his jeans had your pulse quickening more than the conversation had. You felt yourself growing wet, the heat between your thighs demanding attention.
"So even though it's clear we both want this, you're willing to just let it go because of some vague principle?" you asked, frustration tinging your voice.
Eddie's expression grew serious. "I wouldn't want to complicate our friendship just to get off.”
"And if I promised you it wouldn't complicate anything, that nothing would have to change - it would just be a good time?”
His breath hitched at your words, his eyes soaking in your presence. "Then... maybe I’d rethink some things."
You sighed, acknowledging his hesitation but also feeling the urgency of your own desire whether Eddie joined you or not.
“Well, you think about that,” you said, standing up and heading toward your bedroom. “You’re welcome to join me if you decide you’re in. If you decide to leave, the spare key is by the door. Just lock up and I’ll get it next time.” You closed the door behind you
Eddie sat on the couch contemplating for all of 5 minutes before his decision was made. Of course he wasn't going to let this moment pass him by. He stood up, his mind racing as he walked toward your room.   
When Eddie opened the door, he found you lying in bed, bathed in the amber glow of your lamp, only in your panties. You were lost in your own pleasure, hand moving beneath the fabric, eyes closed tight as breathy moans escaped your lips. 
"Fuck," Eddie muttered under his breath, his gaze locked on the scene before him. He froze, taking in every detail. The gentle, desperate movements of your fingers, the soft sway of your breasts, and the way your lips formed an O with every soft whimper. He was mesmerized.
He moved closer, cautious not to disrupt the moment. You whispered his name, soft and needy. "Eddie..."
The sound of your voice, so vulnerable and inviting, was nearly enough to push him over the edge. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that came from the very core of his being. As he stood at the end of the bed, your eyes fluttered open, taking in his presence.
You kept your eyes locked on him, focusing on his face, the way his gaze was fixed on you.
Looking at you like this, made him feel as if he was witnessing the eighth wonder of the world. "What are you thinking of?" Eddie asked, needing to understand what was driving you.
"That this is your hand instead of mine, just like l've been imagining for weeks," you admitted, voice trembling slightly.
Eddie's breath hitched. "Can I see all of you?" he asked, desperation lacing his voice as he sat on the edge of the bed. 
You nodded, slowly sliding your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, revealing your glistening cunt. You returned your hand, teasing yourself gently. Eddie's eyes were fixed on you, the sight almost too much for him to bear, a low whimper escaping his lips.
"How would you touch me, if it were your fingers?" you asked, voice a seductive whisper.
Eddie slid up from his spot on the edge of the bed, closer to your side, as he began directing you on how he would pleasure you, eyes glued to your movements. "I'd start by gently tracing my fingers, just like you are now."
You whimpered as he continued his instructions, caught between the fantasy he was describing and the reality of your own touch. His guidance was driving you wild, but the need for his direct touch was growing unbearable. Breathlessly, you said, "Eddie, please."
“Tell me what you need,” he rasped, his eyes locked on yours. 
“Touch me,” you pleaded.
Eddie knew what you meant; you wanted him to replace your fingers - but he needed to kiss you and at the vague request for his touch he couldn't help but use that as his cue. He leaned in, his body hovering over yours, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was rough, and raw as if years of restrained longing were unleashed in that heated moment. His lips were demanding, his tongue wrestled with yours, the taste of beer mixing with moscato. You bit his lip and Eddie’s groan was deep. 
His free hand found its way to your thigh, gripping it tightly, driving you further into your own touch. The intensity of his actions only heightened your pleasure. You gasped into his mouth as your climax hit. Eddie’s grip on your thigh never letting up as you clung to him, struggling to steady yourself through your orgasm. 
As the waves began to subside, you whispered raggedly, “I need you.”
Eddie trailed his hand from your thigh to your cunt, only for you to stop his hand. “No. I need more, I need you inside of me. Now.” 
Eddie groaned at your desperate plea for him to fill you. Without a word, he began undressing. His breathing was labored as he quickly removed his shirt, tossing it aside. He fumbled with his jeans, eager and clumsy in his haste to free his hard cock. When he finally did, you let out an audible gasp, taking in the sight of him. He was so fucking perfect.
“How do you want it, baby?” He asked, eager to give you anything you’d ask for. 
“What have you fantasized about?”
Eddie hesitated, “We don’t have to -”
“Tell me,” you demanded. 
“You, um, you’ve got great tits,” he all about moaned. “I think about you riding me a lot.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before you pushed him back to lean against the pillows, a sly smile on your lips. You reached for a condom from the nightstand, tearing open the wrapper with a quick, practiced motion, and rolled it over his throbbing cock. Eddie’s eyes followed your every move, sighing at your touch. 
With a deep, steadying breath, you positioned yourself above him. Your hands rested on the headboard while his hands gripped your thighs, his fingers digging in as he watched you. Slowly, you began to lower yourself, the initial contact making both of you gasp. The incredible stretch of his cock stung as you lowered yourself down inch by inch. It was almost overwhelming, but so perfectly pleasurable. Eddie’s eyes widened, his breath coming in quick, ragged bursts. 
“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth. His hands tightened on your thighs, reminding you just how much he wants this.
You continued to sink down, savoring the sensation of being filled. Once fully seated, you paused to adjust, getting accustomed to his size. Eddie wasn’t the longest you’d ever had, but by no means was he small. Close to 7 inches if you had to guess. He was however, the thickest not by an absurd amount but enough to notice the  difference. He felt phenomenal. 
You began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down. The room began filling with the sound of your mingled moans. As you established a steady rhythm, Eddie’s moans grew more frequent, his grip sure to leave bruises. “Fuuuuuck,” he repeated, his voice rough with pleasure.
You shifted from leaning forward to putting your full weight on him, arching your back slightly as you moved your hands from the headboard to behind you, resting them on his thighs. In this position, you had better control and began to increase your pace.
“Aghh - just like that,” Eddie groaned. “Show me how much you want it." Eddie’s eyes were locked on you, taking in every detail - the bounce of your breasts, the flush on your cheeks, the intense pleasure on your face. You looked stunning.
He moved his hands to your breasts, groaning as he squeezed them gently. He adjusted himself so he was sitting up, his hands moving to roam over the rest of your body as he began kissing your skin. He started at your collarbone and moved along your chest until he reached your left breast. Kissing and nipping at the soft skin before enveloping your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. You shuddered at the added stimulation, moving to rest your hands on his shoulder for better stability as he moved his mouth to your right nipple. 
You were finding it hard to keep quiet, biting your lip to stifle your moans as the combination of his mouth and the fullness of his cock drove you closer to ecstasy.
Eddie, however, was having none of that. Removing his mouth from you chest, “Don’t hold back," he rasped. "Let the whole fucking building know how good it feels to have my cock inside you.”
You let yourself moan freely, the sounds echoing in the room as you quickened your pace.
"Ooooohhh god,” you cried out as your orgasm began to build. 
You swirled your hips, adding a tantalizing motion that made Eddie mumble curses of pleasure. His hands moved to your hips, gripping firmly as he reclined against the pillows. You leaned forward with him, placing your arms on his chest for support as you rode him with increased intensity.
“Such a good girl,” Eddie said in awe, his eyes locked on you as you chased your orgasm. The praise spurred you on, and you let out a loud cry. Eddie’s lips curled into a wry smile as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you.
“You like that, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
You whimpered a feeble “yes,” your voice barely audible as you tried to keep up with the intense pleasure.
“Thought you might,” he chuckled. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me,” Eddie instructed.
That was all it took. Your hips began to falter as your orgasm ripped through you, sending your body into a shuddering climax. Eddie’s groans of satisfaction grew louder as he watched you come undone on top of him. He gripped your hips tightly, taking over control and thrusting into you with a fierce rhythm, pushing you seamlessly into another orgasm.
As you came down, your body collapsed against Eddie's, still trembling from the aftermath of your third orgasm. Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, the intensity of the pleasure overwhelming you. Eddie, sensing your exhaustion, slowed his thrusts, his hands gently tangling in your hair as he lifted your face to look at him.
“Shit Eds” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I can come again.” 
Eddie’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Sure you can, baby. You haven’t even gotten what you wanted yet,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before repositioning you both.
The sudden loss of him inside you made you whimper, the emptiness leaving you desperate to be filled again. Eddie lifted you, placing you on your knees, and then knelt behind you. His hands took hold of your hips, and he lined himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you with a forceful, deep motion. The immediate fullness made you moan, the new position allowing him to penetrate you more deeply and hit your g-spot perfectly with every thrust.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” you cried out, your voice raw with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless rhythm.
“This is what you wanted, right baby? To get railed?” Eddie asked, his voice a deep, gravelly whisper. His hands squeezed the flesh of your ass as he drove into you.
“Yes!” you cried out. “Please Eddie, harder,” tears streaming down your face.  He responded by pounding into you just as you asked. 
Leaning forward, Eddie kissed the skin along your back, his teeth grazing your flesh with gentle bites, adding another layer of sensation. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles white from the strain, as desperate cries of pleasure fell from your lips. His left hand slipped between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it frantically.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need. Eddie’s fingers worked your clit with determined precision, the added stimulation making it clear you were about to lose it.
As the pleasure built to its peak, you screamed his name, your body shaking uncontrollably as you came. Eddie’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts never faltering as he felt you clenching around him.
“There it is,” he moaned, his voice filled with satisfaction as he felt you coming undone. Your mascara ran down your cheeks in streaks, merging with your tears as you reached the height of your pleasure. Eddie continued to pound into you as your orgasm subsided, savoring the way you responded to him.
He was relentless, driven by his own need to reach his climax. He removed his hand from your clit,  gripping your hips firmly as he thrusted into you with increased force. “I want you to cum with me,” he growled.
You cried out, your voice filled with desperation. "I-I ahhh..." Your words were swallowed by your moans as Eddie kept thrusting. 
"You can do it," he encouraged, his voice low and steady. "I know you can."
Eddie's thrusts grew more intense, his rhythm never faltering as he drove you toward another climax. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his own breath coming in ragged bursts as he neared his release.
"Atta girl," Eddie growled. His thrusts grew sloppy, driven by the raw intensity of the moment. You clenched around him, surrendering to the pleasure as euphoria washed over you. The sensation was all consuming, a final, powerful climax that left you gasping.
Eddie's own climax hit hard. He let out a string of moans, his body shuddering as it hit. His thrusts became erratic, his grip on your ass tightening as he rode out his release.
Eddie collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, basking in the afterglow. The intensity of the night had left you feeling dizzy and euphoric, your body still tingling from multiple orgasms - five mind blowing orgasms, to be exact. The most you’d ever had with a partner before was three - and while still sensational it was nothing compared to this. Making it clear that Eddie Munson was the best fuck you’ve ever had.
As you started to come down, you glanced over at Eddie. He was staring at the ceiling, his face a mix of disbelief and deep thought. "Eddie, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
"Can I level with you?" he asked, his voice serious.
"Of course," you replied.
"It's pretty obvious that what we just had was too good to be a one-off," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "And it's not going to be easy to just go back like this never happened. I mean, I can't just pretend I don't know you've got a praise kink." He teased. 
"Eddie!" You laughed, giving him a playful nudge.
"I'm only half kidding. I clocked that shit when I tried to teach you guitar, this just confirmed it," he admitted with a grin.
You rolled your eyes, a smirk on your lips. “So, what's your point?"
He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow and looking at you seriously. “If you can handle keeping it casual, I think we should do this again.”
“Fucking hell, Munson didn't we address this on the couch? I wanted to fuck you, I'm not in love."
Eddie laughed. “Right, I know. But sometimes it can lead to that, and I just want to make sure you understand if we continue to hook up it will never be anything but physical. I can never offer you more, is that clear?" 
You grinned. “Crystal."
"So, friends with benefits?” He asked. 
You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as your eyes locked with his. 
"It's a Sexually Explicit Kind of Love Affair" 
Two months had passed since you and Eddie established your friends-with-benefits arrangement, and you had both adhered to a set of rules: open communication, no exclusivity, and keeping things private. Your frequent hookups had become a thrilling part of your routine, each encounter more intense than the last, and quite a few that were unforgettable. 
Fucked You in the Bathroom When We Went to Dinner:  The two of you went to dinner with your friends to celebrate Vicky’s birthday. Amid the celebrations, you and Eddie shared knowing glances across the table and when the opportunity arose, you both slipped away, heading towards the restaurant's bathroom.
As soon as the door closed behind you, Eddie's hands were on you, pulling you close. He pressed your back against the wall, as his lips found yours in a rough kiss. His mouth began trailing along your jaw as you you reached down to unbuckle his belt. Eddie's pants were down around his knees, his hands hiking your dress up, growling when he saw you had no panties on. You lifted your leg, resting it on the sink, back still pressed to the wall as Eddie wasted no time before guiding himself into you. Your hands immediately threading through his hair as he sunk in. 
Eddie's thrusts were urgent and desperate. "Fuck, can’t get enough of you," Eddie gasped, his breath hot against your neck. 
You could only respond with a series of breathless moans. The pleasure building rapidly as Eddie's movements grew more intense. His hands gripped your hips firmly,  holding you in place as he drove into you. 
Your climax was approaching quickly, and you couldn't help but let out shrieks of pleasure. Eddie's hand reluctantly coming to cover your mouth to stifle the sounds. He loved hearing you, but not here. 
“Shh, baby. I know," he whispered feeling you beginning to clench around him. You bit the palm of his hand to stop the scream that was desperate to escape you as your climax hit. His thrusts growing erratic as he came with you, burying his face in your neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
As you both caught your breath, you quickly adjusted your clothes, and you fixed Eddie's hair. You walked out first heading back to the table. Eddie arrived a few minutes later, drink in his hand as if he had been at bar the whole time, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he sat down.  
Knee Deep in the Passenger Seat: It'd been a lively evening out at the bar playing pool with Chrissy, Eddie and his bandmates. You were keenly aware of the effect your outfit was having on Eddie as you'd chosen a particularly short skirt that barely covered your lacy black panties if you moved too much. So each time you bent over to take a shot, your underwear was tantalizingly visible. 
As you lined up for another shot, Eddie approached, leaning in close.  To any onlookers it would seem like he was giving you a tip to make your shot. "You're such a fucking tease," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
You turned your head slightly, catching his eye with a sly grin. "I know, but you love it," you whispered back. 
Eddie's gaze was fixed on you as he walked back to his spot against the wall. As you knelt over the table to take your shot, a smirk tugged at your lips knowing he was clearly struggling to focus on anything other than the view you were providing. 
If Eddie could have had his way, he would have sunk to his knees right there and ate you out while you were bent over that pool table. But patience is a virtue. 
As you turned to face him after landing your shot, you knew he was trying to maintain his composure.
When it was time to leave, Eddie offered to take you home.  "Chris, I’ve got her. I pass her apartment on my way home anyway.” While that was true, you knew that wasn't his plan.
As you walked out, Eddie's eyes never left you, his gaze focused on the way your hips swayed with each step. When you reached the van, he opened the passenger door for you and you slid into the seat, feeling his intense gaze on you. 
As you settled in your seat, you looked at Eddie who was still standing next to you. A sly grin pulling at his lips, as he stepped in. You were confused until he knelt down on the floor in front of you, shutting the door. His expression one of eagerness.
With his hands now gripping your thighs, he pushed your skirt up, his fingers brushing against your skin. "I've been wanting to taste you all fucking night," he hummed, his voice low and filled with need. 
You looked down at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. "Aw look at you, did I tease you so much that you can't even wait?"
Eddie’s big doe eyes, looked a lot less innocent in this position, darkening at your words. Hunger written all over his face. 
In an instant he pulled your panties to the side, leaning forward so his head was nestled between your thighs. His tongue making contact with your bare slit, with a tantalizing slow lick. You gasped at the feeling. Eddie moaned against your pussy, "You taste so goddamn good,” his voice vibrating through your core. 
The moment his tongue touched your clit, he was relentless, alternating between licking and sucking. Your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he savored you. 
Within just a few short minutes you were a moaning mess, hands tangled in his hair, breath ragged, eyes screwed tight as you could feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm. Then suddenly, Eddie pulled away. Your release immediately ripped away from you. 
His face flushed and glistening with your essence, looked up at you with a smirk. “Look at that, I can be just as much of a tease as you," he rasped.
You whined at the loss of contact. "Please, Eddie.” 
“You’ll have to wait, baby.” He said, readjusting your underwear and skirt, wiping his mouth as he dipped out of the van and walked to the drivers side.
Truth be told, this was just as upsetting for him as it was for you. You were intoxicating and if he was being honest he’d love nothing more than to continue to devour your sweet cunt until you came all over his tongue - multiple times. But he thought it only fair that you feel the same strain that he had all night. He’d make it worth the wait when he got you to his trailer. 
You're on your knees, I'm on the case: You had the day off, so what better way than to spend it in Eddie's bed. When you arrived at his trailer, he answered the door shirtless, wearing only boxers with a towel draped over his shoulder.
"I'm about to shower," Eddie said, ushering you inside and closing the door behind you. "I'll be out soon. Feel free to watch TV, the remote's on the table."
As Eddie went to shower, you settled on his couch, finishing up the episode of Seinfeld that was on. After about ten minutes, you began to get restless.
You could hear the shower running, steam cascading into the hall because Eddie didn't shut the door completely. You made your way to the bathroom, knocking on the door to let him know you were there as you walked in. 
"Be out in a second, just gotta rinse my hair."
"Mind if I join ya instead?" 
There was a brief pause before he responded, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Sure, come on in."
You quickly undressed and slipped into the shower the steam enveloping you. You were facing Eddie as the water was cascading down his hair. Some droplets hitting your body, as Eddie glanced over you with a grin. 
You gave him a playful smirk before immediately dropping to your knees, positioning yourself in front of his hardening cock. Eddie's eyes locked onto you, filled with anticipation.
Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, the warmth of the water mingling with the heat of your breath. Eddie's response was immediate. His breath hitched, at the feeling. "Ahhh," he grunted, his voice thick with pleasure. 
You began to move, sliding your lips up and down his length with practiced ease. Eddie's hands gripped the shower bar for support, his fingers tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.
"Holy Shit," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "You're so good, that feels so fucking good." 
You continued your rhythm, your mouth and tongue working him expertly. Eddie's groans grew louder, the pleasure clearly overwhelming him. "Oh god, yes," he panted, his hips thrusting gently to match your movements. 
The water continued to cascade around you both, mingling with the sounds of Eddie's pleasure as you pushed him closer to the edge. "Don't stop, baby" he urged, his voice breaking. "I'm gonna cum."
With a final, deep stroke, Eddie came hard. You kept your mouth on him, sucking every drop as he moaned and gasped, his hands gripping the shower wall for dear life bracing himself.
His face was flushed, a mix of steam and sweat glistening on his skin. He looked down at you with awe and satisfaction. "You're fucking amazing," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
You stood up, and Eddie cupped your face, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. As your mouths moved together ,his cock began hardening again, ready for round two in his room.
"I know, "Baby, No Attachment!"
As the months passed the frequency of your encounters with Eddie had evolved beyond merely getting off. At first you considered that it was just your friendship deepening, but as time went on, you couldn't help but feel that these interactions between you were teetering the line of something more. 
Eddie's band practices had effortlessly blended into your weekly routine. “Want to come to practice again?” he’d ask, flashing a grin. The first time he invited you, you joked about whether he had a fantasy of hooking up in Gareth’s garage or something. Eddie only laughed and said, “Nah, I just figured you might enjoy hearing us play and I thought it’d be nice to have you there.” Of course you went, and enjoyed every second of it, maybe even more than the shows. Seeing Eddie perform offstage, goof around with his bandmates, and brainstorm new arrangements was incredibly fun to witness.
By the third week into attending practice, Eddie offered another invitation. “Want to come with me to visit Wayne this Sunday?” he asked one afternoon. You hadn’t seen Wayne since he left Eddie the trailer, and although the invite surprised you, you agreed. Wayne’s warm hospitality was a delight, and seeing Eddie with his uncle gave you a new insight into his life - it felt special that he shared it with you. 
You began noticing more changes in your own habits. Instead of going to social events alone, you often opted to ride with Eddie. Your weekend hookups had bloomed into near everyday occurrences, leading you to spend a lot more time at his trailer, as it offered much more privacy than your apartment - Eddie and you were rather loud. Eddie's loud anyway, but when he's inside you he doesn't shut up. Always talking you through it, telling you how good you're making him feel and he loves hearing what he does to you, so you never hold back. 
On more than a few occasions you’d accidentally fallen asleep over there, and eventually Eddie just began inviting you to stay the night in the first place. Gradually, your personal items like a toothbrush, a few changes of clothes, and your favorite books made their way over. You were there so often that it was shifting from a convenient arrangement to something that felt more like a shared space.
The boundaries you’d set were being tested, and it was becoming harder to maintain the pretense that this was purely physical. The line between attraction and emotional connection was blurring, and although Eddie had always insisted that this arrangement was meant to stay casual, his actions seemed to contradict that. In those soft moments with him, at practice or Wayne's, or when you were lying in his bed wrapped up in his arms after another incredible fuck, you found yourself dreaming of more and every time you did you'd think back to Matt's insistence that there was something between you and Eddie. Back then you thought it was Matt's jealously, eventually giving way that it was underlying attraction but now like this you can't help but think maybe there has always been more simmering between you both. 
You didn't dare say it though, you wanted to remain the “chill girl” who didn’t push. But the more time that passed the more you felt caught between holding your tongue and addressing the growing complexity of the situation.  
"It's fine, it's cool, you can say that we're nothing but you know the truth." 
The summer heat was beginning to wane as you and Eddie arrived at Steve’s Labor Day party. 
You were enjoying yourself, chatting with Nancy when you overheard a conversation nearby. Eddie was talking to Chrissy, who had just referred to you and he as a couple. 
“Oh, no, we’re not together,” Eddie said, a dismissive edge in his voice as he responded. The words hit you like a slap. You knew what you had signed up for, but it still stung, especially when the lines had been blurring for months. 
You attempted to shake it off, focusing on the friends around you. However, as the evening wore on, the frustration you felt was hard to ignore. Eddie’s behavior had been increasingly confusing. And this comment felt like the final straw - if your friends could see it, why couldn't he? 
When the party ended, Eddie drove you back to his trailer with Metallica blasting through the speakers. The music did little to ease the anger you were feeling. 
Once inside the trailer, Eddie reached out his hands gripping your waist, as his lips found yours. The kiss felt good, almost intoxicating, but your anger quickly reclaimed its hold as the words "we're not together" echoed in your mind.
You pulled back, needing a moment to regain your composure. Eddie’s eyes searched yours, confusion in his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked softly.
"I'm not really feeling it right now,” you said firmly, pulling away from his touch. "I think I'm going to head home actually." 
Eddie’s face fell for a moment before a small smile played at his lips. "You don't need to go, stay the night. We can watch a movie."
A few months ago, this invitation would have felt like a friendly gesture. After all, the beauty of a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement is that it starts with a foundation of friendship. But tonight it was just a bitter reminder of how these nights have morphed into something much more complex. At the start of your arrangement, movie nights often transitioned from watching the film to fucking until the credits rolled. This felt natural, expected. But now the dynamic of movie nights has grown significantly more intimate; cuddling on the couch, Eddie softly playing with your hair, and gentle kisses between scenes. All gestures that are only typical in, well - relationships. You've had enough. 
"Eddie, are you being avoidant or are you truly oblivious to what's going on?" 
Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?"
"Us. This," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "It feels different, and it has for a while now." You took a deep breath, struggling to steady your voice. "Eddie, even our friends notice it."
"This is about Chrissy's comment?" he asked, annoyance seeping into his voice.
"You were so quick to dismiss it."
"We're not a couple, so that probably has something to do with it," he said, with a laugh. "What was I supposed to say?"
You gave him a short nod, as you began to gather your things. "It's not even about what you said, it's about what you're not saying." 
The frustration was evident on Eddie's face. "I thought we were both on the same page about this," he said, following you.
"Dammit, Eddie," you turned towards him, your voice rising. "We were, but it’s hard to feel like we’re still casual when my favorite bra lives in your dresser!"
Eddie’s expression shifted, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but he still held his ground. "From the start, I told you I don’t do relationships. I never promised you anything more than what we agreed on."
You scoffed. “I know, and that’s exactly why I’ve kept my mouth shut for so long. But you’ve pulled me into every aspect of your life, and it’s not the same anymore. If you weren’t so hung up on that concept, maybe you’d admit what you’re feeling.”
“Don’t," he said sternly. "Don't try and make me out to be the bad guy because you couldn't keep your own feelings in check.”
His words felt like a punch in your gut. You could feel the lump take perch in your throat, trying to swallow it back but the tears were coming. 
Eddie’s expression softened as he noticed your your eyes glistening. He watched helplessly as you continued to pack, his frustration morphing into anguish as tears streamed down your face.
"Wait,” he pleaded. "Let's talk, we can take a step back."
Your hands shook as you stuffed your clothes into your bag, sobs coming in ragged, painful gasps. “A step? We'd have to take twenty," you choked out, your voice breaking. 
Eddie looked away, struggling to reconcile your pain with his own fears. "I just, I'm sorry I confused you. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea."
"Maybe you didn't intend for things to change, but they did. We both let them. I did because I liked it, why did you Eddie?" 
His stomach twisted at that.
 “Every rule we set, you broke," you continued, bitterness lacing your voice. "It was all ‘let’s keep it discreet’ until you kissed me between songs at practice. What the fuck was that?! ‘We need open communication,’ but you never talked about any line we crossed." Your voice rose despite your sobs. "For fucks's sake Eddie, we haven't been exclusive yet for six months, you’ve called after me! Going as far as turning down others because you want me in your bed. Whether we fuck or we don't."
Eddie stood still, motionless, as the weight of your words sunk in.
"You can try to downplay this all you want, but deep down you know. And it's why your past hookups could never satisfy you the way I do.” Tears streamed down your face as you glared at Eddie.
The silence grew heavy between you as Eddie struggled to find a response.
"I don't know what you want me to say. I can’t just flip a switch and become something I’m not. I made my stance clear from the beginning," his voice wavering as he spoke. 
You shook your head in disappointment. "Got it." Your tears fell harder, and Eddie’s own eyes were on the verge of tears as he watched you zip up your bag.
“Baby,” he started, his voice trembling as he reached out a hand towards you. 
“Don’t, Eddie,” you scolded, your voice a harsh whisper. “You don't wanna call it love, fine. But it's done." 
Eddie’s face twisted in confusion and frustration as you finished speaking. He seemed to get only a fraction of what you were saying. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice cracking with desperation. "We'll just go back to how it was before. I mean, we can just forget about all this..." 
"You're not getting it, Eds" you replied, your voice steady despite the tears. "I can’t be your friend.” 
Eddie’s face contorted with panic. "No, don’t say that," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "I’m sorry I led you on. We can go back - just like it was. We can fix this." Tears welling up as he tries to grasp what you're saying. 
"Eddie, it wasn't just that. This whole thing between us has made me realize that maybe… maybe I had feelings for you long before we hooked up."
Eddie's face pales, his panic escalating as he struggles to process what you've just admitted. "What the fuck is happening right now?" he says, his voice rising in distress. He collapses onto the couch, his body shaking as the gravity of the situation hits him full force.
"Before we, before this, you said you didn't," he mutters, almost to himself, as he tries to reconcile your words with his memories. 
"I didn’t realize it then," you admit, your voice breaking. 
Eddie’s face was wet with his own tears now, his hands trembling as he held his face, listening to you explain.  
"I never would’ve let anyone else call me a nickname I hated. Anyone else’s persistence would’ve been stopped but it just sounded so pretty coming from your mouth..." Your voice was choked with emotion. “And I think being honest with myself about that, along with everything we’ve been doing... I've realized that maybe I was  being a fool to think it was ever just attraction."
Eddie breaks down, his tears flowing freely. "Goddammit" he chokes out, his voice thick with regret.  “I can't-"
You cut him off knowing what he was going to say. "I know Eds, you've made it clear," your voiced cracked, sobs breaking through the words. "You were right to worry this would get messy, I'm sorry I told you I could handle it." You took a deep breath and looked at him one last time, the ache in your chest almost unbearable. You slung your bag over your shoulder, heading for the door.  "I'd probably do it again though."
"I don't want to lose you,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper as he tried to hold back his emotions.
Your heart broke at his words but you knew this was the choice you had to make, even if it wasn't what you wanted.
"I have to go," you said as you turned and walked out of the trailer.
“You just need a better life than this / You need somethin' I can never give”
Eddie’s tears fell uncontrollably as you left.  Watching you walk away was like a rift tearing through time and space, an unbearable ache that pierced his soul. 
His mind spiraled in a loop, like a broken record that kept repeating the same line: It was a mistake. He knew better, he knew better than to get involved with you, but he had, and now you were gone. Eddie had wanted to believe that you could handle something casual, he risked it because he had an insatiable hunger that only you had satiated. His own denial ran so deep he hadn’t even fully accepted the magnitude of what was happening between the two of you until your words hit him like a freight train tonight. But as Eddie sat there, drenched in regret, his mind wandered to all things you. 
Eddie had always been branded the freak for being a little outside the box, and while he stayed true to himself it was always a bit toned down when he met new people. However when he met you, he knew he didn't have to do that.  While you could fit neatly into the box, you didn't care to. Eddie was instantly captivated by you, and it wasn't just because you were stunning - it was your wit, and charm that pulled him in. 
He could never forget the first day he realized he wanted to kiss you. It was one of the early times you hung out - that night you were complaining about "Dirty Dancing." You just kept rambling - so comically irritated, he found it hilarious and he wanted to just shut you up with his lips. He couldn't help himself coining, "Baby" for you. It had felt right rolling off his tongue, and even though you shot him an annoyed look, he could’ve sworn he saw a hint of a smile. Eddie then proceeded to try and get you to reenact the lift scene from the movie, but you refused with a firm “Fuck no, Munson.” Robin wouldn't either, but Steve, high as a kite, agreed. Of course it ended with them flat on the floor and the four of you laughing your asses off. For whatever reason that night marked a turning point for your friendship - the two of you began spending time together outside of your shared circle. It was always a little touchy, a little flirty and Eddie was constantly having to push the urge to kiss you outside of his mind. 
Steve was always trying to persuade Eddie to just go for it, but Eddie wasn’t interested. He typically only hooked up with the same person three times - if ever more than once. He feared that if he ever got involved with you he wouldn’t be able to go back, and commitment was something he wasn't into. Fast forward three years and nothing's changed. Still, one night around two years ago he nearly let his guard down. 
A group of you had gathered at a nearby bar before Corroded Coffin’s first paid show at The Hideout.
“Let me buy a round for you guys, a little liquid courage before tonight!" you insisted. Gareth joked that it wasn't necessary when they had Eddie's good luck charm - You. “Is that why you keep me around, Munson?” you teased, planting a playful kiss on his cheek. “For a little extra luck,” you said with a wink and a smile before heading to the bar. In that moment, Eddie was certain he had to kiss you. 
When you returned with a round of tequila shots, your cheeks flushed and your smile bright, you explained that the handsome guy at the bar; Matt - asked you out and then proceeded to buy the round of shots for you when you'd said yes.
As Jeff raised his shot and toasted, "To Matt!" Eddie looked at you, realizing that it was better this way. It would have been foolish to kiss you. You deserved someone who could offer you more. 
Eddie’s mind whirled, jumping from that almost kiss to the fateful night on your couch. He should've went home because from that moment everything changed. You were sensational, the way your body responded to him, the way you sounded, the way you made him feel. He was right to know himself, that after a taste, he would never want to go without. He was selfish for this.
The past 6 months together Eddie had recognized little shifts, but he'd ignored them. Looking back it was probably June when things first began to change from the raw thrill of a good time to something that hinted at a little more intimacy. Your presence had turned his bed into a sacred oasis, where he felt truly seen and understood. The laughter, the warmth, the touch - it was all part of a connection he cherished. Yet, every time it felt like it was too much, he would push it out his head, trying to drown out the truth that he felt something more. Even if he wanted to risk all for you, he couldn’t. He wasn’t good enough to make you his.
This painful realization was a truth he had to face. His fear of inadequacy and his belief that he couldn’t sustain a meaningful relationship had driven a wedge between you. And now, with you gone, he was left grappling with the reality that he had pushed away the one person who had made him question his own defenses. Sitting on his couch, a headache pounding from his tears, he tried to sleep, searching for some sort of peace.
In the weeks that followed, Eddie rarely visited his bedroom. It was a space tainted by your absence. His home felt hollow, so he picked up extra shifts at the diner, and crashed at Gareth’s when he could. He thought about reaching out to you, admitting you were right, that he loved you too, but he knew it wouldn’t change a fucking thing. He still couldn’t give you what you wanted. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, not when he didn’t believe he was enough.
You deserved the best, and Eddie was convinced he wasn't that - he was stil a pot dealer, bussing tables to make ends meet and for some free food, just dreaming of a future with his band. How could he be the right person for you when he didn't have much to offer.
Eddie had been so absorbed in the band that he had drifted from the usual social circle. The only time he’d seen Steve and Robin since your departure was after one of his show the last weekend in September. They had approached him, and Eddie, looking weary and regretful, had apologized for not being around much. He wanted desperately to ask about you - God, he did - but he struggled to find the right words.
When Steve and Robin happened to mention they hadn’t heard from you either, Eddie’s heart sank. You were probably avoiding them, likely to keep from running into him. Steve, with a knowing look, asked if the two of you had gotten involved. Eddie gave a brief, vague answer that painted a picture of your arrangement without exposing too much. 
“Maybe try reaching out to her though," he suggested. 
 Robin nodded solemnly. “Of course,” she replied, understanding the complexity of the situation without needing more.
The days blurred into weeks as Eddie threw himself into his band, trying to escape the gnawing emptiness and the haunting memory of you. Each gig was an escape, but it never lasted. The real struggle was coming back to an empty space, a home without the one person who had made everything feel right. 
“Back when we were still changin' for the better / Wanting was enough / For me, it was enough" 
It was the kind of night that makes you want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over your head, except you weren’t in bed. You were behind the wheel of your car, heading home after leaving the man that you loved. 
As the tears flowed freely, your mind drifted to the most serious relationships you’d had; you college boyfriend, your relationship with Matt - both seemed like mere practice compared to what you shared with Eddie. He wasn’t just the best fuck you’d ever had, he was the best person you’d ever known. The thought of never being around him again was agonizing.
Returning to your apartment felt like a warm welcome from an old friend. You had spent nearly all of August entwined in Eddie’s bedsheets, living for the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have a future together. You uncorked a fresh bottle of Riesling, not even bothering with a glass as you tried to drown out the fact that Eddie was never truly yours.
Weeks after leaving Eddie, the silence was deafening. The ache of not hearing from him, of not knowing how he was, ate at you incessantly. You knew that this was your choice, yet you'd expected some sign - any sign - that he was still there, still thinking of you.
You threw yourself into work, hoping that staying busy would numb the pain. But this came at a price - you isolated yourself from your friends, avoided their calls, and shut yourself off from the world that might remind you of Eddie.
When Robin buzzed your intercom one evening, her arrival was a welcome disruption to your self-imposed exile. She stood at your door with pizza and ice cream in hand, a silent understanding in her eyes.
"Hey," she said softly, a warm smile breaking through her concern. "I thought you could use some company."
You invited her in, your heart heavy as you tried to muster a smile. You sat in your living room, as you finally let your emotions spill out. 
Between sobs, you managed to ask, "How is he?"
Robin took a deep breath, clearly choosing her words carefully. "He hasn't been around either, but Steve and I saw him last weekend, he's been busy with the band. They're doing really well - they’re working hard to catch the eye of an A&R rep to help develop them. When we told him we hadn’t heard from you, he briefly explained why that might be, and not that I wouldn't have anyway - but he was one that suggested this." 
He had thought of you. That was enough to make you break down again. Robin wrapped her arms around you.
“It’s okay," she whispered.
Robin comforted you the rest of the night. Reassuring you that in time it will get better. As Robin was on her way out you told her that while you missed everyone it was just too hard right now, and you needed more time. 
She nodded, understanding. "We’ll be here whenever you’re ready."
As she left, you felt hope amidst the sadness. But even with that hope, you found it difficult to move forward. You almost mustered the courage to attend Jonathan and Nancy’s Halloween party, but after getting dressed, you couldn’t bring yourself to go. A week later, you had plans for lunch with Steve and Chrissy but the nausea of confronting your emotions kept you from following through. It was still too soon to be around the people who reminded you of Eddie, so you stayed away, in your cocoon of sorrow, hoping that someday the pain would ease enough to allow you to step back into your life.
“And from the outside / It looks like you're tryin' lives on / I miss the old ways / You didn't have to change/ But I guess I don't have a say / Now that we don't talk"
It was the second week of November, and you’d decided to go out for drinks with some colleagues. You were at a bar you’d never been to before, located on the other side of town - quite far from the usual spots you and your friends frequented. With the slim chance of running into anyone you knew, you let your guard down and enjoyed the evening. 
You were so engrossed in your conversation that you almost missed it. At first, you thought you’d imagined it, but then you heard it again. Your stomach dropped, and a wave of heat washed over you as you recognized Eddie’s unmistakable voice. Looking around, it was Gareth you spotted first, and as you looked for Eddie, your heart sank. He looked drastically different - his once long hair was now a buzz cut, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, while dressed in a navy striped button-down. His signature leather jacket draped over the back of his chair the only remnant of the man you remembered.
Despite your attempts to refocus on your colleagues, your attention kept drifting back to Eddie and the band. They were celebrating with a round of shots, and you wondered if they were marking a milestone. Since the round of drinks you’d suggested for their first paid gig, you knew they had a tradition of celebrating this way. Your heart sank as you overheard Eddie’s toast: the local station had agreed to start playing their music, and they were promised a small tour around neighboring states in the new year.
Watching the band’s journey over the past three years -  early gigs at house shows to paid gigs at dive bars - you knew you had to say something, not just to Eddie but to all of them. You were proud of their progress, and after witnessing their hard work at countless practices this year, it felt right to acknowledge their accomplishments. You couldn't deny that it almost felt kismet, that you were here tonight.
As your coworkers began wrapping up their night, you excused yourself. You made your way over to the band’s table, your heart racing. As you approached their table, Gareth’s eyes lit up as he saw you.
“Well, look who it is!” Gareth exclaimed.
Eddie turned, his smile dropped as he took in your presence. 
“Of all the gin joints, you walk into the one I’m in?” you joked, attempting to ease the awkwardness. The band chuckled, and you continued, “I couldn’t help but overhear you guys. I just wanted to come over and say congratulations. I know how hard you’ve all worked."
The band echoed their gratitude before Gareth suggested you join them. A sudden, overwhelming discomfort gripped you. This was a mistake. Every lingering feeling you had for Eddie rushed back, and you struggled to maintain composure. "Oh thank you, but I need to get home," you said, attempting to mask the unease. "But I'm really happy for you all."
As you started to walk away, Eddie rose from his seat. "Baby, wait," he called out.
There it was, the nickname only he called you. The one you'd been desperate to hear.
You stopped, turning slightly to face him as he reached you. "I, um, just wanted to say thanks for that. I really appreciated you coming to the table."
"Of course," you said softly.
His eyes roamed over your figure as he took in the way your dress fit, and a low, almost involuntary groan escaped him. "Wow, that dress, you... you look incredible."
You gave him a thankful nod. It hurt you to hear him say that, knowing you'd bought this dress months ago solely with the intention of him taking it off.
"Me? Look at you. You look so... I don't know. Refined, maybe?"
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Is that good or...?"
"Oh, y'know you always look good," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "But I'd be lying if I said the hair didn't shock me a bit at first," you admitted.
Eddie's eyes softened, and he responded with a chuckle. "It's weird for me, still. I haven't had a buzz cut since middle school. But I just needed... a change."
His words hit you harder than expected, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as shook your head in acknowledgement.
He smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "I want you to know I thought about reaching out, but I wasn't sure..." he trailed off.
You nodded again, appreciating the sentiment, a small smile on your lips as you tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. "I really should go, but I am truly so proud of you, Eddie," you said, your voice wavering. "Ever since I met you, I've seen how hard you've worked for what you want, and I'm so happy that it's paying off."
The words seemed to break something in him. Instinctively, he reached out, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. "I've missed you," he breathed into your hair.
You hugged him tightly, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I've missed you too," you whispered back, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped, and you wished you could stay there forever. But as much as you wanted to linger, you knew you had to go. You slowly pulled away, forcing a smile through the tears. "I'm really glad I got to see you," you said softly.
Eddie looked at you, his gaze lingering as if he were on the verge of saying something more, but he simply nodded. "Me too," he said quietly.
“And I’d give up forever to touch you / ‘cause I know that you feel me somehow / you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be / and I don’t want to go home right now”
The ride home felt like déjà vu. Another teary-eyed drive to your apartment after walking away from the man you loved.
Once you were home, you sank into the couch. Wrapped in a blanket, tears streamed down your face as The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead album played on the record player. For the 17th of November, the weather was a bit of a mess. It honestly felt poetic, the thunderstorm mirroring the emotions you were feeling. Every crack of thunder echoed your sobs.
About an hour into your pity party, you were starting to regain some composure when the buzz of the intercom startled you. You figured it was your neighbor, who often used the wrong buzzer, so you hit the button to let them in. Just as you were about to lay back in your spot on the couch, you heard a knock at your apartment door. Curious and a bit irritated, you peered through the peephole and froze. It was Eddie, drenched from the rain, with tears streaming down his face. Your heart raced as you swung the door open, and he walked in, shutting the door behind him.
"Eddie, what-" Before you could utter another word, he started rambling.
“What are the fucking odds you’d be at that bar tonight?” he began, his voice breaking. “On a night that was supposed to be a highlight in my life, and all I wanted was to share it with you.” His words came out in fractured gasps, his tears mixing with the rain on his face.
“When you said I fought for everything I wanted, it felt like a knife twisting in my chest because... it’s a lie. it's a fucking lie when I let you leave.” His voice cracked, and he struggled to steady himself.
“I should’ve told you this at the bar,” he choked, his tears falling harder now. “It felt like fucking fate that you were there tonight, and I still let you walk away. Again! I'm so sorry for the way things turned out. I should've fought for us. I should've fought for you. I let you go because I couldn’t admit I loved you. Even though you knew - of course fucking you knew - because you see me, all of me. And you’ve loved me through it, even when I didn’t think it was possible.” He buried his face in his hands, wiping his tears and catching his breath.
“I was convinced I wasn’t enough for you,” he continued. “But you wanted me all the same. I’m so sorry that I didn't call you weeks ago. I’m sorry for being so scared that I'm not what you deserve, that I let you walk out of my life because every day without you has been fucking hell.” His breaths came in jagged, broken waves. “I thought I could move on, try to forget it, but the goddamn world would have to stop before I could ever stop feeling this for you... It’s always been you.”
“Eddie,” you breathed.
Eddie stepped forward, his hands cupping your face. “I'm still not sure if I'm the man you deserve, but I'd like to try if you’ll have me.”
You nodded at his words, tears streaming down your face. Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his in a kiss that began tenderly but quickly deepened, fueled by a desperate need to reconnect and erase the distance that had come between you. Your moans mingled as your tongues met, and Eddie's hands tangled in your hair. When you finally pulled apart, both of you breathless, you rested your foreheads together.
“I love you, Eddie Munson,” you whispered.
“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your forehead.
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j2hoes · 3 months ago
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All Your Fault (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader)
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Word Count: 12.5K
Summary: In no world could Y/N like Steve Harrington, that's what she kept telling herself despite everybody's insistence that he was a good guy. They couldn't possibly be right, could they?
Warnings - Mature Language, Suicide, Mentions Of Sex, Death, Injuries, Bullying, Drug Use
A/N: This is my longest fic yet and of course it's for the one and only Steve Harrington! Just wanted to say that I know this doesn't follow the exact plot and I have changed some things so it fits in with the storyline. Also I am not condoning bullying in any way, shape or form!! Not proofread so forgive me.
“Hey, dingus, we need a ride!”
My bedroom door swings open, just about slamming against the wall before the irritating voice of my younger brother reverberates throughout my bedroom. Startled by the noise, my head snaps in Dustin’s direction. Not expecting to see his little group of friends in tow or for them to be in the company of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. Who I know them to spend a lot of time with nowadays despite my incessant complaints about Harrington being quite possibly the worst person on planet.
“Dude! Knock much?” I groan, swiftly closing the notebook that I had previously been writing in, in order to avoid any wandering eyes. “I was in the middle of something!”
“What? Making out with your stuffed toys?” Dustin jokes, resulting in a few snickers from his friends and a roll of their eyes from the older teens.
“I’d be happy to make out with you.” Mike comments, my brother throwing a small tap to the back of his head in disapproval.
“Ew gross. Get out of my bedroom you little perverts!” 
“Listen dickhead, mom and dad have gone to the movies and if I’m remembering correctly they said you have to drive me places when they’re not here. So, we’ll be taking that ride now please.” 
“Fuck’s sake.” I grumble, combing my fingers through my hair in annoyance. “Doesn’t your new best friend Steve drive?”
My voice is laced with malice, eyes fixated on the older boy with a glare, eyebrows raised as I await his response. Not that I needed any confirmation, everybody in Hawkins knows that Steve drives. God, he never shuts up about his deep red BMW, it’s one of his more insufferable qualities.
“Yeah, my car is kind of in the garage right now. It’s gonna be out of action for a while.” He admits, cheeks flushing a soft scarlet indicating his embarrassment. 
“So that makes you our designated driver.” Dustin tells me, a smug look on his face as he knows that I have no option but to accept defeat. “Plus, your truck is a lot bigger than Steve’s car. You won’t even have to speak to us because we’ll sit in the bed!”
“Fine! But I am not giving you a ride home because I’ve got a shift at the roller rink tonight and I cannot afford to take another night off!” I state, reluctantly grabbing my keys and throwing my fur coat over my shoulders.
Making my way towards the group, they’re quick to make their way down the staircase, scurrying out the front door as though afraid I may change my mind at any given second. I take my time locking up the house, wanting to delay the inevitability of having Steve Harrington in my truck for as long as I physically can. Sure, it’s annoying having to cart my brother and his friends around the town of Hawkins at their will, but the kids, I can deal with. One of my childhood bullies, not so much. 
Strolling over to the garage, it’s hard to miss the way Steve and Robin stand close to one another, giggling like school girl’s at whatever they were discussing. With furrowed brows, I can’t help but wonder when they became friends. Not only is Robin a year younger than Steve and I, but she’s also the complete opposite of Steve’s normal company. After all, he is friends with cheerleaders and jocks, Buckley is in the school band and spends most of her free time studying other languages. There is no world in which they could possibly be friends and yet here they are.
“Steve and Robin are gonna ride up front with you.” Dustin speaks, clambering into the bed of the truck with very little grace.
“What? No, you can all get in the back!” I argue, offering Max a hand as she struggles to pull herself up.
“Sorry but eight of us back here is too much of a squeeze, guess you’ll just have to make do.” Lucas remarks, arguing my brother’s case for him, forcing me to plaster on a fake smile as if I couldn’t be happier.
“Okay. Let’s just hope I don’t crash on the way, I’d hate to see a six body pile up on the side of the road.” My tone is ominous and I catch the slight gleam of fear in each and every one of the kid’s eyes. “Where am I taking you assholes?”
“Starcourt please Y/N.” Max hastily replies, hand clutching the side of the truck so tight her knuckles are turning white and I smirk to myself as I close the tailgate, pleased I have managed to instill a sense of panic in the usually overly confident group.
Hopping up into the driver’s seat, I’m about to turn on the ignition when out of the corner of my eye, I register that Steve has taken it upon himself to choose the middle seat. Situating himself comfortably between Robin and I.
“Uh no. Not happening. You two need to switch sides.” 
“What why?” Steve questions and I could be wrong but I’m almost positive there is a twinge of hurt in his tone.
“Because I don’t mind Robin.” I smile sweetly at the girl, before replacing it with a scowl as my eyes lay on the chestnut haired doofus. “You, on the other hand, I’d rather take a knife to the eye, than sit besides you.”
As much as it feels like a punch to the gut when I spot the pained expression wash over Harrington’s face, it is completely overshadowed by the sense of pride that I feel at being able to make him feel small, the same way him and his posse of imbeciles did to me for years. I know, deep down, that I should be the bigger person, that just because he treated me poorly throughout our school years that I shouldn’t do the same to him. Yet, I’m resentful. I’m resentful and having accepted the cruelty of this world, I’m also bitter. No longer the sweet and optimistic young girl that I once was.
“Yeah, I actually can’t take the middle seat.” Robin confesses, an awkward smile resting on her face. “I get real bad claustrophobia.” 
With an exasperated huff, I focus my eyes on the road as we begin the drive, doing my best to ignore the passenger sitting beside me. Even if I am trying to distract myself, I’m unable to hide my annoyance, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard, I’m afraid it may shatter beneath me.
Fortunately it’s only a short ten minute drive to the Starcourt Mall, as long as traffic is in my favor, I should even shave off a couple of minutes. Though the silence within the small space is deafening, frustrating me even more. Before I can stop myself, I’m reaching over to turn on the radio, hoping the joyful melodies of Joe Jackson’s Steppin’ Out will boost my mood before my shift.
Unluckily for me, as I reach to grab the steering wheel once again, my hand lightly brushes over Steve’s hand, causing me to flinch away with such force it feels as though I have been electrocuted. 
“Sorry.” Steve mumbles, tucking his hands away into his pockets to avoid any more uncomfortable interactions.
“So, I’m sensing a teeny bit of tension here.” Robin comments, stating the obvious.
“Yeah, no shit Robin.” I snap, feeling my entire body go stiff at her teasing.
Glancing over at the two teens, I take note of the way Robin slumps down into the seat at my words. Folding her arms over her chest as if she’s a child that has just been scolded by their parents. 
“Why are the kids so desperate to go to Starcourt anyway?” I ask, not directing the question at either of them in particular in an attempt to change the subject, feeling slightly guilty at my previous outburst.
“Oh um, we’re meeting Eddie, just thought it’d be nice to take that bunch of losers out for the day you know. Nancy and Jonathan might even be joining us later too!” Robin explains, smiling to herself as she peers out the back window to make sure the kids are doing fine.
“Besides, they deserves a break with everything that’s been-”
“What Steve means to say is that they’ve had a lot on at the moment, what with school. We think they’re getting a little stressed.” Robin interrupts, doing her best to subtly elbow Steve’s stomach, though I’m able to spot it, mostly because his body jerks into mine as she does so.
“Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” I ask, slyly peering over at them from the corner of my mouth.
“Nope, we’re not hiding anything.” Robin asserts, turning away from me to gaze out of the window.
“Yeah, nothing to tell. Definitely nothing going on.” Steve agrees, the haste in which they both answered only raising my suspicions.
Before I can question them even further, I realize I’m pulling into the Starcourt parking lot. Quickly finding a space and turning off the ignition, I don’t give the duo any time to get out of the car before I’m turning the child lock on, forcing them to remain in the vehicle with me.
“I swear to God, if my baby brother is in any sort of trouble and you haven’t told me, I’ll kill the pair of you, okay?” I ask, both of them nodding their heads furiously at my threat and leaping out of the passenger door the moment that I unlock it.
Rolling down my window, I can hear the kids hopping over the side of the truck, eagerly chattering amongst themselves at the plans they have made for the day. Tiny smile forming on my face as I light a cigarette, watching Dustin jokingly fight with Steve. The interaction holds no maliciousness, I can see no sign of the older boy deliberately trying to hurt him and for a split second I find myself questioning whether it could be possible that the great King Steve has changed in his ways. However, I’m quick to shake that thought away.
“Do my eyes deceive me or is that Y/N Henderson?” Eddie Munson’s voice calls from a mere few feet away.
“Oh shit.” I whisper, taking a long drag of my cigarette before jumping out of the truck and resting my back against the door, waiting for him to approach.
It’s safe to say Eddie and I have a complicated relationship. What started out as him simply being nothing more than my dealer, blossomed into a somewhat beautiful friendship. Considering we’re an unlikely duo, we have a lot in common. Sharing similar taste in films, books and sense of humor.
I suppose it was inevitable that we’d end up sleeping together. Fuelled by our drug induced state, we shared a very hot and very exciting night of passion together. Following with me sneaking out of his trailer first thing the next morning after I had slowly come to my senses and discerned that our relationship should remain just friends. Not wanting to pursue anything at this moment in time.
“Hey Eddie, it’s been a while.” I comment, flicking the ash from my cigarette onto the ground as he places an arm beside my head, caging me between his body and the truck.
“I never heard from you.” He speaks quietly, doing his best to avoid the attention of the group standing not too far from us.
“I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot going on.” I mumble, looking anywhere but the boy in front of me.
As my gaze finds the group, my eyes instantly fall upon Steve Harrington. He’s speaking to Max, clearly in some sort of debate with her that looks like it may be about to explode into a full blown argument, yet his attention is solely focused on me. Observing the close proximity between me and the metalhead. His eyes falling to my lips as I allow the smoke to exhale from my mouth.
“You know, you could at least look at me when I’m talking to you.” Eddie chuckles, attempting to hide the hurt undertone in his voice, head rotating to follow the direction of my eyeline.
“Sorry, I just don’t get what Harrington’s problem is. He’s been staring over here this entire time.” I tell him, finally staring up at the tall boy.
“Isn’t it obvious?” He asks, teasing smile resting upon his lips. I shake my head slowly, dropping the cigarette to the ground. “He thinks you’re hot.”
My hands slap against his chest instinctively, the idea being completely and utterly absurd to me that I have to laugh. 
“I’m serious! Look at you, you’re a fucking smoke show.” Eddie asserts, pushing his argument even more as he sneaks another glance over to the topic of our conversation. “Want me to prove it?”
The idea of Steve Harrington finding me even remotely attractive is so far off the table that I find myself entertained by the idea of proving Eddie wrong. I’m sure he’s simply intrigued by the idea of me and the freak being friends, nothing more. 
With a small nod, Eddie’s hands drop to my waist, touch as light as a feather to not push any boundaries that I may not be comfortable with. Playing along with his antics, I take the lapels of his leather jacket in my hands, pulling his body impossibly closer to mine. The hard expression on Steve’s face is difficult to miss as Eddie’s head rests in the crook of my neck, peppering gentle kisses along the base.
“Ew Eddie, come on man!  That’s my sister!” Dustin’s whines pull us back to reality and Eddie takes a dramatic step away from me to please the curly haired young boy.
Although we now stand with plenty of space between the two of us, Harrington’s face remains in the same cold expression as before. Jaw clenched tightly as his eyes flick between Eddie and I. Leaving me more confused than ever at what his problem is.
“Alright, see you later kids.” I shout, climbing back into my truck and leaving them in the capable hands of their babysitters. “Don’t be causing any trouble!”
***
Steve could think of nothing other than the mean girl that had reluctantly drove them to the mall. It didn’t matter how many stores they went in, or arcade games they played, he just couldn’t get her off his mind. Wondering why she had such a huge vendetta against him. What could he possibly have done to this girl, that he is almost certain he has never met before, to cause her to act in such an unpleasant way towards him.
He knew he hadn’t been the nicest of guys throughout high school, caring more about his popularity and how his friends perceived him than being a decent person. However, he was sure he’d remember if he had been rude to her. He was sure he wouldn’t have been rude to a girl like her. Hell, he was wondering why he hadn’t pursued her sooner. Her beauty indescribable and more radiant than any other girl he had seen before.
“Steve, what’s going on? I’m regretting picking you to be on my team!” Dustin exclaims, frustrated at the loss of yet another game due to Steve’s lack of focus.
“That was your sister?” He asks in disbelief, still completely overwhelmed by the limited interaction they had shared hours prior.
“Yeah, she’s a full on bitch right?” Dustin comments, unaware of his friend’s infatuation.
“Has she always been that unkind?” Steve asks, causing Dustin to look up at him with a questioning glint in his eye.
“Oh you got to face her wrath did you?” The younger boy laughs, amused at the thought of his normally cool and charming friend being bitched out by his older sister. “Yeah, she still hates you dude, never shuts up about you actually.”
“Wait, she talks about me?” His tone is hopeful, feeling pleased to know that he’s on her mind. I mean, that’s got to be a good sign, right?
“Calm down loverboy. It’s not a good thing.” Dustin smirks, though when he sees the downcast look on his friend's face, he can’t but sigh, patting him on the shoulder lightly. “Look, I think you’re cool, smart, charming, and some would say classically handsome but my sister usually refers to you as a no good, shit for brains, wank stain. Amongst other things, that’s usually her preferred term.”
Steve sighs at his words, combing his fingers through his hair awkwardly as he comes to terms with the fact that he quite possibly has a zero percent chance of becoming romantically involved with the intriguing girl. He knew that since leaving high school his luck with the ladies had severely dwindled, struggling to maintain a relationship that didn’t solely focus on sex, and yet, his heart sank a little lower knowing that the one girl that had truly piqued his interest was the one girl he would never stand a chance with.
Dustin, on the other hand, took pity on the boy he looked up to. Despite the countless tales of torture and misery that he knew Steve had put his sister through during their school years, he knew that the boy had changed. Sure, he’d felt sympathy towards Steve when he ended up working at Scoops Ahoy following his graduation, knowing how much it took a hit to his ego that he’d lost his King Steve title and was now serving children scoops of ice cream every passing day. However, he knew that the shitty job was a good thing for his friend, alongside his role as the unofficial group babysitter and assisting in their pursuit to save Hawkins, Dustin knew deep down that taking such a low blow was Steve’s saving grace. Reminding him that he wasn’t in fact above everybody else and truly changing him for the better. The young boy had seen it, but he also couldn’t blame his sister for being blind to it.
“Look Steve, I know that you’re a good person and I know that you’ve changed but you put Y/N through hell. She struggled a lot at the hands of you and your friends and I know she’d kill me for telling you this but she’s been in therapy since she was fourteen years old because of what you guys did to her. We were really worried about her actually.” Dustin admits, Steve’s breath catching in his throat as he hears the shakiness in the boy’s voice. “My parents still are. She didn’t even bother applying to college, and now she spends most of her time hiding herself away in her room or getting high with Eddie.”
“Dustin I’m so sorry, I don’t even remember her.” Steve states, struggling to get over the sinking feeling in his stomach that seems to be consuming him.
“Of course you don’t remember her, you only thought about yourself and your stupid friends back then.” Those words hit Steve like a ton of bricks, never had anybody truly called him out on his former behavior, not to this extent anyway. “Look, you just need to show her you’re a good guy, I’m not gonna say it’ll be easy because if I know Y/N, then I know she can be a cruel, heartless bitch, but I also know that she has a good heart and as long as you can prove to her that you’re sorry and that you’ve changed then she’ll come around. Maybe just wait until after we’ve destroyed the Mind Flayer.”
***
Monday nights at the roller rink are always notoriously quiet, only a couple of people passing through our doors for the majority of the night. I’ve argued with my manager on numerous occasions, pleading with him to change our closing time from eleven to nine, but to no avail, I fail every single time. As a punishment for doing so, I’m placed on almost every monday night shift alone, which wouldn’t be too bad, had I something to do. Instead I stand at the counter, lazily snacking on some popcorn that I most definitely didn’t pay for, awaiting any customers that may wander into the building.
Hearing the large doors squeak open, I immediately straighten my posture, my best winning smile slapped on my face as I prepare to serve the group that just strolled through the doors. That is until I see the group just so happens to be the same group that I dropped off at the mall earlier in the day. Smile dropping from my face almost instantly.
“What do you want?” 
“Don’t you mean, welcome to Paradise Skate World, how can I be of assistance?” Eddie jokes, leaning against the countertop.
“No, I mean what do you want?”
Wasting no time, the group excitedly shout their shoe sizes at me, a flurry of words and numbers that I struggle to understand. After swapping a few pairs multiple times, I finally manage to line nine pairs of rollerskates along the countertop, the kids frantically grabbing at them and discarding their personal shoes all over the floor. Not caring to use the cubby holes provided.
“That’ll be twenty seven dollars please.” My voice is monotonous, not caring to be pleasant with them, not that they seem to care.
Steve doesn’t speak as he hands over thirty dollars, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ as I hand him his change. He sits beside Robin on one of the dirty old benches, helping her to lace up the boots before slowly escorting her over to the rink where she is left in the capable hands of the younger teens. Who, for whatever reason, all seem to be incredibly confident on eight wheels.
Having lost sight of Steve as my attention was fixed on the kids gleefully skating around the rink, I round the counter preparing to pick up all of their discarded shoes, only to see the boy already on the floor matching pairs of shoes together.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” I tell him, joining him on the carpet to gather together the rest of the shoes.
If I didn’t dislike him so much, I’d think his actions were sweet. Paying for the entire group and cleaning up after them, he’s a customer service worker's dream, yet I still can’t help but feel resentful. Why couldn’t he have been like this in high school?
“I know, but those guys make so much mess that it’s not fair to leave it all for you to clean up.” Steve comments, placing the last pair of shoes in one of the cubby holes. He rises to his feet slowly before offering his hand to help me up. However, I choose not to accept his help, rising to my feet without his assistance.
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
He smiles softly at me, returning to the bench to remove his own shoes and placing the rollerskates on. When he rises from the bench, I can’t help but giggle at the shakiness in his legs, standing like a baby deer, he just about makes it to the countertop before needing to grab hold of it in order to keep himself upright. Resulting in a loud laugh from me, finding much amusement in the situation.
“Need some help Harrington?” I ask through my roars of laughter, having to cover my mouth to keep my volume down as he looks at me with sheer panic in his eyes.
“You sure you don’t wanna just stand there and laugh at me in my time of need?” He questions, flashing a cheesy smile my way to ensure I know that he is joking.
With a small sigh, I make my way over to him, taking his hands in mine, forcing him to let go of the countertop that he was clutching onto. 
“I may not like you Steve Harrington, but I’m not gonna let you fall on your ass like an idiot, not with the kids watching.” I state, walking backwards at a snail’s pace to allow him to find his feet. “Besides, it’s company policy to offer a hand when needed.”
Steve laughs at my words, a deep chuckle that causes my mouth to quirk upwards. Am I actually smiling in the presence of Steve Harrington? Shaking my head, I rid myself of the contentment on my face. 
“I’m going to embarrass myself aren’t I?” He asks, staring over my shoulder towards the rink with worry. “I don’t know why they thought this was a good idea, I’ve never skated in my life.”
“That’s probably exactly why they wanted to come here. They get to embarrass you and they also get to annoy the fuck out of me at the same time.” 
“I’ll try my best to keep them from annoying you, it’s the least I can do after ruining your peaceful evening.” His voice is soft, and I find myself unable to look away from his face.
It comes as no shock that the boy is attractive, he had girls falling over their feet for him since the moment he hit puberty. I’d never understood the obsession with King Steve, though I suppose I’d never been this close to him before. Never able to see how boyishly handsome he was. 
Chestnut brown hair that falls lazily over his forehead, coffee coloured eyes that hold a deep softness and a cheeky twinkle. His nose falls in a perfect slope, lips plump in a gorgeous salmon color with a sprinkling of light freckles scattered across his face. He truly is the epitome of beauty, it’s just such a shame that his personality is completely lacking.
I’m snapped out of my trance when I feel the hardwood of the rink beneath my feet, hesitantly letting go of Steve’s hands as he pushes himself forward ever so slowly. Testing the waters as to how far he can go without falling flat on his face.
“Well you did it. Now you just have to show that pack of dickheads that their ploy to embarrass you isn’t going to work.” 
He smiles at my comment, opening his mouth to say something in return, however, I spin myself around and hastily walk back to my position at the counter before he can say anything. Muttering a small ‘have fun’ as I do so. Not wanting to be entranced by him further and not wanting to forget about all the shit he put me through just because we had a fairly nice interaction for all of ten minutes.
In an effort to distract myself, I busy myself with cleaning any and every surface behind the counter. Very unusual behavior for me, but at this point, I would do anything to get the thought of Steve possibly being a good person out of my mind. Even if I have to spend my time cleaning to do so. Though, I guess anything is better than gazing longingly over at the boy in the rink and trying to ignore the racing of my heart.
“You know, I used to think Steve was a bad guy too.”
Robin’s voice startles me as I don’t notice her standing by the counter, she’s smirking playfully at me. 
“How the fuck are you and him friends? I mean, no offense but you’re exactly the type of person whose life he would’ve ruined in high school.” I don’t mean to come across as rude but my tone definitely says otherwise, Robin raising her eyebrows at my statement, clearly taking offense.
“Steve has a good heart, he’s doing his best. I know it’s not my place to say anything and I have no idea what went down between the two of you but what I do know is that if he can reconcile with Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie then perhaps that’s a sign you should give him a chance.” Robin remarks and against my best judgment, my eyes instantly find him out on the floor of the rink. Max and El hold his hands as they drag him around, all proudly displaying their delight.
“He did a lot of fucked up shit to me Robs.” I sigh, knowing that no matter how much I want to forgive him, I’ll most likely take my hatred to the grave. “They all did.”
The girl follows my lead and releases her own sigh, reaching across the countertop to take my hands in her’s. Thumbs gently stroking the backs of my palms.
“I know, I’m not going to excuse his behavior. He was a complete asshole, even when I first met him, I thought he was an asshole but he proved me wrong. Trust me, I never thought I’d be over here vouching for Steve Harrington of all people.” Robin’s gaze never leaves mine as she speaks, asserting just how much she truly means the words she’s saying. “Just maybe try to let go of that grudge you’re holding, I reckon you two would actually make pretty good friends.”
***
Regardless of how much I tossed and turned, Robin’s words kept me awake for hours. Unable to sleep and with no sign of tiring myself out anytime soon, I decided to do the next best thing. Hence why I am now sitting on one of the many docks stretching out into the depths of Lovers Lake. Joint in hand as I try to process all the emotions I had managed to bury deep within me for so long.
The joint does nothing to soothe my shaking body, though I’m unsure of whether it’s from the frosty fall air or the recent events that seem to have dredged up everything in my past that I had tried to forget, either way, I wrap my fur coat tighter around myself as a weak attempt to ease the shaking. God, if only Dustin hadn’t gone and befriended the one person that caused me so much pain.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize anybody would be here.” The voice from behind catches me by surprise, not expecting anybody else to be down here at two am. Glancing over my shoulder, I can’t help but laugh at the world’s cruel sense of humor as the person racing through my mind stands only mere feet away. “Wait, are you crying?”
Raising a trembling hand to my face, I feel the dampness of my cheeks, clearly too high to discern that I had in fact been crying. The fact causing me to laugh once more and Steve’s face floods with one of worry, hesitantly trudging towards me and taking a seat beside me, swinging his feet over the side of the dock in the same manner as mine.
“Are you okay?” Steve asks, genuinely seeming to care about the reason for my tears, tone soft with no evidence of an ulterior motive.
“No.” I admit, offering him a weak smile whilst quickly wiping the tears away that roll down my face. “No, I’m not okay and I haven’t been for such a long time and I don’t even know why I’m telling you this because it’s all your fault.”
Steve’s mouth opens to speak and yet no words come out. Guilt scrawled across his face as he attempts to come up with the words to comfort me. Once again, I can’t help but laugh at the humorous nature of the situation. I’ve never opened up to anybody about how I’m truly feeling, hell, even my therapist doesn’t know the half of it but who feels comfortable enough to voice their darkest thoughts to a complete stranger in a very clinical setting? I’m going to blame the joint for my willingness to open up to the one person who I’d rather never speak to again.
“It’s probably really shitty of me and you probably don’t want to hear it but I am so sorry Y/N. Truly, I can’t even begin to describe how sorry I am.” Steve tells me, voice shaking and almost catching in his throat, however, he never once looks away from me. Forcing himself to own up to what he did. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Taking a drag of the joint, we remain in silence for a few moments, the only sounds to be heard are that of my repeated sniffles. It’s almost comforting in a way that the boy doesn’t speak, not rushing me nor pressuring me to accept his apology. 
“It’s funny you know, I thought I would’ve moved on from it by now. I thought that as soon as I graduated I would’ve been able to forget everything that you and your friends did to me and leave it all in the past.” I state, not even knowing where to start. I never expected to be in this position, never thought I’d get the chance to confront the monsters from my childhood but as he sits before me, he doesn’t seem to be much of a monster. “You and Carol and Tommy, you guys destroyed me. You hated me so much that I began to hate myself and I’ve never recovered from that.”
Steve lets out a sharp exhale, causing me to look over at him and what I see shocks me deeply. Although he’s trying his best to hide it, I don’t miss the tears that fall slowly down his cheeks. Guilt consuming him as he comes to terms with his actions and the direct consequences they had as a result.
“I almost killed myself, Steve.”
My words hit him like a knife to the chest and his head is snapping to face me so fast, I fear he may have given himself whiplash. Mouth slightly open in shock as he processes what I just confessed.
“You, you wh-”
“You’re not to blame for that. I could never blame you for that.” I whisper, feeling lighter as I open myself up more and more for the very first time.
“How, how did-” Steve stops himself before he speaks, this time it’s him that’s wiping away tears. “What happened?”
I know Steve is questioning whether it’s appropriate to ask. Unsure of whether I’m willing to talk about the most traumatic most of my life thus far, especially with him. With nerves coursing through my veins, I shakily offer him the joint, he accepts with a small smile, slowly taking a long drag, allowing the weed to flood through his body.
“Junior year. I think I’d been planning it for a while, or at least thinking about it. That day, I think you must’ve been at a basketball game or something, Carol and Tommy they-” I sob hysterically, feeling so much shame as I explain everything to him. “They cornered me in an alley as I was walking home. It was just the usual insults, but when I didn’t react they got angry. I don’t really remember it all, I think I’ve tried to black it out but I woke up unconscious in that alley, and I just remember feeling so at peace when I laid there.
So I went home, ran straight up to my room because I didn’t want anybody to see me. As soon as I looked in the mirror, I just felt disgusting. My eye was all swollen and my face was just covered in bruises and scratches. Not that I felt beautiful before, but I felt hideous. 
I’d been hoarding my pills for weeks at that point and I just began to take them. Handfuls at a time, I think I got about halfway through my stockpile before my mom walked in. She was screaming and crying and I couldn’t do anything, I just passed out.”
“Fuck.” Steve whispers, trying to suppress his own sniffles.
“I was in the hospital for about a week, apparently they pumped my stomach and I only have very minor damage to my internal organs. I had to practically beg them not to take me to the psych ward though.” I chuckle at the memory, pleading with the doctors that I was fine and it was all just a mistake, even though that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
“I had no idea that Carol and Tommy did that to you.” Steve admits, dropping the joint into the lake as he clenches his fists tightly at the thought of what took place in that alleyway. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I could spend my life apologizing to you and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
I’ve never seen Steve so emotional before, candidly breaking down in the most vulnerable way as he allows his sobs to be released. Face flushed scarlet and throat raw from how much he is wailing. I thought I would feel better if I made him feel the same as he made me feel. If I made him cry so hard that he thought he would never feel happiness again. However, seeing him in this state doesn’t even make me the tiniest bit happier. It doesn’t bring me an ounce of joy to see the boy this way no matter how much I thought I would.
In all honesty, it hurts more so knowing that my words are the cause of the pain and turmoil that Steve is in right now. As much as I had built up such a cold and callous exterior trying desperately to protect myself from the harshness of this world, I know deep down that internally, I’m nothing like I portray myself to be.
Once he gains his composure, Steve manages to speak through deep breaths, “Do you know what’s funny?”
His question throws me off guard, tilting my head and raising a brow, alerting him of my piqued interest.
“I’ve also tried to block out most of high school. I didn’t even recognise you today and couldn’t understand why you were acting the way you were. Which I now realize makes me sound like even more of a dickhead.” He laughs quietly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck to relieve the tension within him. “As soon as I got home, I spent hours, staring at your pictures in the yearbook, remembering everything that we put you through. I’ve never felt more guilty about something in my life and I felt disgusted with myself that I would treat such a beautiful person as though they were anything but.”
“You’re just saying that.” I retort, not wanting to believe that he would spend so long staring at the photos of me that I hated so much. Not only that but not wanting to believe he could find such photos of me to be beautiful.
“I mean it! I was a stupid, pathetic little boy that just wanted to prove myself to the people that I thought were cool. I never thought about the effect my actions were having on people and now that high school’s over, none of that popularity shit matters.” He states, wishing that he could take back all of the cruel things he did to his peers. “None of it matters. I’m a fucking loser now. I work at an ice cream store in the mall where I have to wear a stupid sailor’s outfit, I have no college prospects, no girlfriend and I hang out with a bunch of sixteen year olds in my spare time. All that high school shit, it means nothing now.”
“You’re not a loser Steve Harrington.” I giggle, nudging his shoulder gently with my own. “You’ve just made some very poor decisions that are now biting you on the ass.”
“Hey, why aren’t you at college? If the yearbook is anything to go by you were one of the smartest people in our grade.”
I try not to feel upset by the boy’s question, knowing he means no harm. However, I also know that as much as Steve has made poor decisions, so have I. Decisions that directly affected my path to college and resulted in me working at the roller rink.
“Didn’t study those yearbooks well enough clearly.” I joke, believing that if I’m able to laugh about my situation then perhaps I won’t burst into tears yet again. “Last year I kind of gave up with school. After what happened junior year, I just didn’t see the point in trying anymore. Started skipping classes and when I was there I was too high to learn anything. My grades dropped and so did my chances at college.”
“I really fucked things up for you didn’t I?” Steve asks, tone suggesting it’s more of a statement rather than I question.
“The roller rink isn’t so bad, I mean I get to skate for free and the pay is pretty good.” 
I can tell he doesn’t quite believe me, he knows I’m bothered about not going to college, despite this, he doesn’t push me. Doesn’t force me to admit the truth. For that, I’m thankful.
Casting my gaze over the lake, the first light of the sun shines bright through the treeline. A warm amber glow, illuminating the still water beneath my feet. Birds wake from their slumber and their faint chirps echo across the lake. There’s something so peaceful within this moment and for the first time in years I feel as though a weight has been lifted from my chest. One that I was unaware had been weighing me down.
“I should probably be getting home before my parents wake up. Really don’t need to be giving my parents another reason to worry about me.” I state, steadily rising to my feet, the warmth instantly escaping my body as the sharp breeze nips at the full length of my body.
“Yeah, I should get back too, I should at least try to get some sleep before work.” Steve comments, walking in step with me along the dock.
We walk in silence, the sound of the dark oak creaking beneath our feet. A solemn cloud follows us as we head back to reality, most likely never to speak of this night again. Neither one of us wanting to reflect on the distress we shared at Lovers Lake.
“I think maybe people are right about you.” I declare upon reaching my truck, much to the shock of the boy standing opposite.
“What?” He asks, in disbelief at the confession I had just made.
“I think that maybe you are a good guy.” 
***
“Have you taken your pills today?” My mom checks, shaking the little orange pill bottle on my desk as though she can feel if it is lighter than yesterday.
“Of course I have.” I mumble, dragging my hands across my face, exhausted from the late night I had endured.
“I’m only checking sweetheart, you know I worry about you.” She wraps her arms around me from behind as she speaks, squeezing me tightly, more so for her own comfort rather than mine. “Now, your dad and I are leaving town for a few nights. He has a meeting up in Indianapolis, but if you don’t feel like you’re well enough to stay here alone with Dusty then I am more than happy to stay behind.”
“Mom, I’ll be fine, honestly.” I whine, feeling guilty that she dwells on my wellbeing so much. “I promise.”
I love my parents. I really and truly do, more than anything on this earth. Nevertheless our relationship has been somewhat strained since the events of sophomore year. My mom treats me like I’m made of glass, one wrong move and I’ll shatter into one million tiny pieces. My dad is arguably even worse, refusing to even acknowledge what took place nor speaking on the topic of my mental stability. Dustin tries his hardest to make things feel normal, but there’s only so much a sixteen year old can do to try and hold their family in place.
Not only do I feel guilty about the way I make my parents stress about me, but I also feel guilty for the way this has affected Dustin. Our parents are often so preoccupied with ensuring that I’m well and doing fine, that they often forget about their other child. Sometimes, it feels as if I’m the only person that notices Dustin’s presence. Or lack thereof, what with him spending more and more time with his friends and Steve. Frequently returning home stressed, anxious or just generally in a bad mood and in all honesty his behavior has started to concern me. Though it appears that I may have been the only one to notice.
“I need a ride to Starcourt.” As if on cue, Dustin’s head pops around my bedroom door, demanding yet another ride.
“Your manners really could use some work kid.” I tell him, to which he shrugs and I find myself grabbing my keys with less reluctance than I had the previous day.
The drive to the mall passes by a lot faster than it had on the uncomfortable journey the day before. Filled with Dustin singing at the top of his lungs to whatever cheesy pop song was playing on the radio and me secretly hoping deep down that I’ll catch a glimpse, or even better a chance to talk to Steve again. 
My former bully had somehow managed to penetrate my thoughts ever since we departed ways in the early hours of the morning. Consumed by the thoughts of where we go from here, was our emotional conversation reserved for that one night only or would we develop a casual friendship? As much as I was pretending like nothing had happened, I was itching to know how Steve was feeling.
Before I know it, I’m turning off the ignition and the boy in question is directly in my eyeline. Lazily smoking a cigarette against the side of the entrance to the mall. Presumably waiting for my little brother in order to escort him into Scoops Ahoy, so he is unable to cause any mischief on his way to the store.
Steve spots my truck almost instantly and I could be mistaken, but it certainly looks as though his eyes lock on mine straight away. I hardly register Dustin jumping out of the truck as Steve flicks the cigarette butt to the ground, strolling towards the truck and before I can stop myself I’m climbing out of my seat. Much to the surprise of my brother.
“Hi.” Steve mumbles nervously, a soft rose tint settling upon his cheeks.
“Hi.” I reply just as awkwardly, my face no doubt the same shade as his.
“Okay, this is weird. I’m just gonna-” Dustin uncomfortably points towards the main doors before hurrying off in that direction, eager to get away from whatever is happening between Steve and I.
“So about last night-”
“I want to forgive you.”
We both speak at the same time, sharing anxious smiles as neither of us dares to make the first move. Though after taking a deep breath, I find myself being the one to break the tension.
“I want to forgive you. I meant what I said, that I think you’re a good guy.” I state, timidly picking at my fingers as I try to look anywhere other than the dark haired boy. “I don’t think I’m fully there yet, I think I’ve still got some shit that I need to work through but I’d like to. You don’t deserve to be hated for the stuff you did as a kid, especially when I can see how hard you’re trying to be a better person.”
I’ve barely finished speaking when Steve’s arms are wrapped firmly around my shoulders, pulling me into a firm hug and for whatever strange reason, I hug him back. Cautiously sliding my arms around his toned waist and allowing my head to rest against his chest. Inhaling his scent deeply, an intense sandalwood with a hint of cigarette smoke and despite all of my logic within me screaming to snap out of it, I can’t resist his musk, finding myself strongly intoxicated by it.
“I swear you won’t regret it, I’m going to spend every day making it up to you for as long as I live.” Steve mutters into my hair, gently pulling away from me once he stops speaking.
“How about we start with a free ice cream and go from there?” I ask cheekily, causing him to beam cheerfully at me with a swift nod.
“I’m sure I can manage that.” He laughs, before we make our way into the mall, joining the group of kids inside Scoops Ahoy, much to Dustin’s disapproval at my presence.
Sliding into the booth besides Max, I’m acutely aware of the way the group huddles closer together, voices lowering to no louder than a whisper. Even Eddie Munson, who’s voice can usually be heard for miles, speaks in a hushed voice. 
Narrowing my eyes, I try to pick up any of the conversation, only able to hear certain words here and there. Their side of the table is scattered with papers and I’m able to make out what looks like a map of Starcourt. Although I am completely baffled, if not slightly annoyed at their secrecy, I can only assume that this has something to do with one of their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.
“You and Harrington made up then?” Robin inquires when I join her at the counter, resting my elbows against the cool marble.
“Kind of. I don’t know, we talked for hours last night and as much as I want to hate him, I just can’t.”
Robin can sense how difficult it is for me to acknowledge my willingness to believe her friend has changed. She knows that it’ll be a long road going forward, and yet she’s unable to hide her pride. Not only at her friend for accepting the suffering he caused, but also at my openness to trust that somehow Steve isn��t such a bad guy.
“Yeah I’ve heard, he hasn’t been able to talk about anything else other than the heart to heart you two shared last night. I’m really proud of him, he’s come a long way.” Robin explains, busying herself with preparing a milkshake that she smoothly slides my way with a knowing wink. “Consider that on me, you deserve it, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to make my childhood bullies confront their own actions the same way you did. It took real guts.”
“As much as I would like to take credit, I think the weed was probably more to thank.” I disclose, taking a short sip of the strawberry treat in front of me. “I have a tendency to get real honest when I’m high.”
“Don’t I know it sweetheart.” Eddie chortles, dipping his finger into the cream atop my milkshake and licking it off dramatically.
“Ew get your own!” I groan, pulling the glass away from the metalhead as he tries to swipe some more cream.
“Where’s Harrington anyway? Those little dickheads are going over our game plan and apparently he is a pivotal part in their plan and is needed right away.” The boy asks Robin, eyes scanning the room as if Steve is hiding in one of the red leather booths.
“He’s in the back, apparently he wanted to make Y/N’s ice cream extra special.” Robin speaks, nodding her head towards the staff only door.
“What’s he gonna do? Jizz on it?” The moment the words leave his mouth, Robin and I are both groaning, disgusted by the question.
“Do you have to be so repulsive all of the time?” I ask, hearing the squeak of a door followed by rapid footsteps.
“I didn’t hear any complaints when my mouth was between your legs!”
“That’s because you can’t speak whilst you're down there!”
So caught up in our current argument, I fail to spot Steve uneasily standing at the other side of the counter. A large scoop of cherry ice cream sits in a tub before him, decorated elegantly with a large helping of sprinkles, pieces of chocolate and a singular maraschino cherry placed neatly on top.
“Is this a bad time?” He questions hesitantly, carefully observing Eddie and I, a twinge of what I can only perceive as jealousy flashes across his face. However, it disappears before I analyze it any further. 
“No, no. Not a bad time at all.” The words tumble out of my mouth with haste, Robin struggling to hide the amused expression on her face as she witnesses the tension between us.
“One scoop of cherry swirl, with all the toppings. On me, as promised.” He announces gleefully, pushing it towards me with a small plastic spoon, which I am more than happy to accept.
“Thank you.”
I delicately place the cherry between my lips, pulling it from the stem which I then twist between my fingers absentmindedly. Though, I feel the warmth rising to my cheeks as I catch sight of the three of them staring at me, eyes trained on my mouth.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that can make eating fruit look so hot.” Eddie comments, pupils blown out causing me to grimace.
“Hey Steve! We need to go over the plan!” Lucas’ yell, alleviates the awkwardness of the current situation.
“Always the goddamn babysitter.” He mutters under his breath, offering me an apologetic glance before meandering over to the group of youths, Eddie Munson in tow.
“Now I don’t want to alarm you, especially not with how fresh your reconciliation with Steve is but I think he may have a teeny tiny crush on you.” Robin whispers, moving her head closer to mine in an effort to remain inconspicuous. 
“What? No, no, he’s just being nice is all.” I shut down her theory quickly, fixating my gaze on the melting ice cream so as not to reveal the bashfulness slapped across my face. “Anyway, what’s that all about? New campaign? I didn’t think D&D would be the sort of things you and Steve would be into.”
“I see what you’re doing and I’m just going to go along with it.” Robin says, referencing the fact that I am so obviously trying to change the subject. She turns away from, as she continues to speak, occupying herself with refilling the toppings station. “It’s just a stupid thing they’re planning, some big quest. Steve and I just kind of got roped into it I guess, but it’s not so bad.”
Her response is vague and leaves me with more questions than I previously had, not entirely believing that her and Steve could possibly be lame enough to enjoy the fictional realms of Dungeons and Dragons. I let it slide though, thankful that she didn’t push me to discuss the possibility of Steve Harrington liking me and so I return the favor. Accepting that there is a very probable, most likely embarrassing reason that they’re not telling me about their secret activities.
***
Most young people would kill for the opportunity to have an empty house. It’s the time to throw wild parties or hook up with a guy without having to sneak around or risk being caught by nose parents. Or even worse, younger siblings. Had I been a normal eighteen year old girl, there was no doubt in my mind that I would be doing exactly that.
Instead, I’m lounging on my bed, recapping the events of the past couple of days to my diary as I try to fill the deafening sound of silence with the beautiful vocals of Stevie Nicks. I’d never truly realized just how eerie and isolating our home could be without the usual noise of my family. No football game broadcast on the television, or the clattering of pots in the kitchen, not even the sound of Dustin screaming down his walkie talkie. It fills me with a sense of unease that I can’t seem to shake.
Just as I’m about to try and fill the void by running the bathtub to take a relaxing soak, I become distracted by the high pitched shrill of the phone on my bedside table. Curiosity engulfing me and I wonder who could be calling me at such a late hour. Better yet, who has got the phone number that is usually only reserved for Eddie or my parents.
“Y/N, I don’t have much time so you have to listen to me carefully!” Steve’s voice is full of panic as he hurriedly speaks down the line, my body instantly going stiff at the urgency of his tone. “I’m so sorry and I should’ve told you sooner but Dustin was adamant that he wanted to keep you out of it.”
“Out of what? What’s going on? Is Dustin okay?” 
“I can’t explain other the phone, you’d never believe me anyway, but we really need your help. Just get to the Starcourt as soon as you can, please. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” Steve spits out, the uproar of what sounds like wind almost drowning him out. “And bring a weapon!”
With that, the line cuts off. I remain still, nostrils flared as my hands continue to hold on to the phone, knuckles white. My heart feels like it is about to burst violently out of my chest and I struggle to gain my composure with such short, rapid breaths.
“Okay, it’s gonna be okay. I’m sure it’s nothing, they probably just need a ride again.” I mumble to myself, grabbing my keys and racing down the stairs. “Yeah, that makes total sense, I mean a girl should always carry a weapon when alone at night.”
Hands trembling furiously, I stand opposite my dad’s rifle cabinet, staring at the gun through the sheer glass. Questioning whether I’m truly about to take his property. I’ve only shot a gun once, I was twelve and my dad took me hunting. It didn’t become a regular thing, my dad refusing to take me again after I burst into tears upon shooting a deer.
Despite the fear racing through my body, before I can even think about what I’m doing, I’m grabbing a vase off one of the shelves. Using all of my strength to smash it straight into the glass, thousands of miniscule shards flying everywhere. Flinching as it hits me with force, ripping open small wounds across the exposed skin of my face, neck and arms. Though I only really register the injuries on my hand, the flesh of my knuckles shredded brutally from where my hand made contact with the pane. Vase doing little to take the extent of the collision.
A shaky exhale escapes my throat, grabbing the rifle despite my second thoughts. Sticky, crimson liquid dripping against the heel of the gun, staining the burnt mahogany. 
“Sorry dad.” I speak quietly, frowning slightly upon seeing the mess of broken glass across the lounge.
In my hurry to leave, I don’t even bother to lock the doors of our house. Focusing on nothing other than getting to Starcourt as quickly as I physically can. Throwing the gun carelessly on my passenger seat, I’m in autopilot as I start the engine. My driving being much more reckless than usual, ignoring speed limits and stop signs in my race to get to the mall. 
The closer I get, the more I start to question what type of danger I am just about to get myself into. Sky above the large building an array of violet and sapphire amidst the dark black of the night. Wind whirling harshly around my truck, the closer I get. It feels reminiscent of a tornado, a ruthless storm that holds no mercy.
Arriving in the parking lot, I’m able to see a singular car parked by the entry doors. Nancy, Jonathan, Will and Lucas scurry around the vehicle, clearly in search of something and don’t seem to care at all about the volatile weather that Hawkins is experiencing.
“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s Dustin?” I shout, rifle in hand as I sprint towards the burgundy car. The group ignoring my arrival and instead climbing into the vehicle’s interior.
Squeezing myself in besides Will and Lucas, it’s only at that moment that they acknowledge me. Faces ranging from confusion, to shock, to anger. Not a single one of them displays any positive emotion at my being there.
“What are you doing here?” Jonathan asks, voice raised and tone harsh, wounding me more so than I thought possible.
“Where the fuck is Dustin?” I spit, solely caring about ensuring the safety of my baby brother. Knowing that if anything happened to him I would never forgive myself. “Where the fuck is my brother?”
‘I don’t know, okay Y/N. He’s with Erica!” Nancy yells, preoccupied with pulling open the glove compartment and rooting around urgently.
“Erica? Erica as in your ten year old sister?” I snap, attention diverted towards Lucas who stares at me with worry, afraid of how I am about to react. “What the actual fuck?”
“Look I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re kind of in the middle of something and you really shouldn’t be here.” Nancy tells me, finally turning herself to look at me from the passenger seat.
I’ve never seen her look so troubled, face free of makeup and stress lines prominent. She’s too young to look as agonized as she does, asserting to me that whatever is currently taking place is far beyond what I could have ever imagined. Far more threatening than anything I could dream up. 
“I think I’ve got it.” Jonathan announces, a chorus of relieved sighs escaping the group. 
“Get it started then.” Nancy pushes, watching anxiously as Jonathan begins to fiddle with the car wires, hands clammy from the stress of the current circumstances.
“Guys, we could have a problem.” Will mutters, eyes trained out of the window to the otherside of the parking lot.
A car sits ominously, headlights pointing directly towards us. Nancy and Jonathan both curse under their breath, and despite having no knowledge about what is taking place, even I can understand that this is clearly not a good sign. Even worse when the vehicle begins to drive slowly straight at us.
Unaware of my own actions and unable to stop myself, I’m rounding the car confidently. Standing right in the path of the oncoming vehicle, I raise the rifle, releasing the safety and pointing directly towards what I can assume is the driver’s seat. Struggling to see effectively against the bright beam of the headlights.
My move seems to threaten the driver, the car gaining speed and barrelling at us with no sign of stopping. Despite the fear that has overcome me since receiving Steve’s call, whilst standing in the path of immediate peril, I feel weirdly at ease. Unbothered by the potential risk of death that I am face to face with. 
“What are you doing?” I hear Nancy scream, her voice sounds as though it is miles away when I know in reality she is almost right behind me, tucked away inside the automobile.
Steadying my breath, I squint my eyes in an attempt to better my aim, before releasing the trigger. Having no time to think about the consequences of my actions nor the moral implications of shooting at a living being that formerly plagued my mind, releasing bullet after bullet as the driver steps on the gas. Accelerating at such an extreme pace that I can only fire so much before having to accept my twisted fate.
With the car only mere feet away, I drop the gun, fearing that no matter how well I shoot, there is no winning this fight. Grabbing my head, in a weak attempt to protect myself, I drop to the ground, eyes closed tightly as I prepare to face the impact. 
I’ve never been a religious person, but the only thoughts flying around my brain are prayers of protecting my family. Prayers of Dustin’s safety as he faces whatever is coming for him. Prayers that my passing is swift and painless. Prayers that this is all over quickly.
And yet, nothing comes. 
Warily, I open my eyes, removing my hands from my cautiously, only to see none other than Steve Harrington, reeling from the impact of smashing his car straight into the one headed my way. His eyes find mine and my heart stops, the look of sheer relief on his face is indescribable. 
Rising to my feet, Steve’s hurriedly climbing out of the vehicle and by my side in a second. Face bloodied and bruised, despite that, he’s solely focused on me, scanning over me intently, worriedly taking in all the minor wounds I obtained from shattering the rifle cabinet.
“What happened to your hand?” He’s asking breathlessly, my mind preoccupied with the knowledge that he just put himself in harm's way to save my life. 
I can’t find the words to say anything as I take in the sight of his swollen eye and the stains of dried blood coating the lower half of his face. My mouth opens to speak and no words seem to slip out, mesmerized by Steve’s beauty in spite of his unsightly injuries.
Blaming the adrenaline, I find myself throwing my arms around the boy’s neck, pulling him into me and squeezing tightly. His hands settle on my hips, touch firm, fearing that if he were to let go that I would simply disappear. Absentmindedly, my fingers delicately thread through the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck. Needing to be close to him.
“You just saved my life.”
My voice is no louder than a whisper, breath hot against his neck as I nuzzle myself closer to him. Feeling safe and secure in his embrace. Desperately needing the comfort right now, even if it is coming from the most unexpected of places.
“Uh guys! We should be getting out of here! Like now!” I hear Robin shout, releasing myself from Steve’s hold to see that not only has Jonathan managed to get their car started but also that Billy Hargrove is now stumbling out of his vehicle and has his sights set on us once again.
Neither of us need to say a word, abandoning my truck in the Starcourt parking lot and speeding away from the mall and ultimately the danger that lies in wait there. 
***
The Battle of Starcourt resulted in the mall burning to the ground. Dustin and I reunited later that night at Steve’s house, the pair of them, alongside Robin, explained everything to me over a much needed pot of tea. El’s powers, demogorgons, Russian soldiers and the Mind Flayer. It was certainly a lot to take in and I could only apologize to my brother for not being there for him throughout all of this taking place. Wishing I could have helped him from the start.
It’s been a struggle adjusting to my daily life for the past couple of days. Dustin’s been staying at the Byers’ household, wanting the comfort of his friends and with a lack of parental presence in our home, the place feels cold. I can understand his decision completely, yet I can’t help but feel alone in such a big house.
I spend my nights awake, unable to sleep, and when I do manage to drift off, I’m plagued by nightmares of that car barreling towards me. My days aren’t any better. Alone with my thoughts at the roller rink, dreaming up all of the ways that the events of the night could have gone differently, most resulting in the deaths of either Dustin and I. And if I’m not at work, I lounge around my home, hopelessly trying to occupy my mind from the swirling images of Starcourt. 
Steve and I haven't spoke since that night, more so my fault than his. I’d closed myself off again, become a recluse and struggled to leave the house with the exception of work. I believed that my mind had been playing tricks on me that night when I found myself enamored by his beauty. Or that it was simply the adrenaline and the intensity of the circumstances that I needed his embrace. However, the more I think about it, the more I believe that it was a decision of the heart rather than caused by the stress of the night.
Standing outside the Harrington household, I wonder if I am making a huge mistake. I hadn’t intended to come here, only leaving my house to take a brisk walk and yet here I find myself, fist raised in preparation to knock. Though making no effort to do so. In all honesty, I think I just need to talk to somebody about what transpired and Steve is the only person that I can willingly open up to.
“Y/N?” The boy’s voice startles me, he’s standing in the doorway dressed in plaid pajama pants and a loose black sweater. The wounds on his face are still prominent, though evidently more healed than the last time I had seen him.
“I’m sorry, I was going for a walk but I guess I just instinctively came here. My house is too quiet and I just really need to talk to somebody.” I confess, staring down at my bandaged hand so as to not make eye contact with Steve.
“You walked here?” He’s shocked by my admission, not that I’m surprised. Living on the other side of town, the walk to his house is easily an hour long, if not more.
“Well my truck kind of went down with the mall.” I laugh softly, though it sounds more forced than I intended. 
“You should’ve called, I would’ve picked you up.” He tells me, voice gentle as he opens the door for me to enter his home, following me through to the lounge where we collapse onto the couch.
He has a small fire crackling away, the orange embers lighting up the room and subsequently offering a toastiness in comparison to the chilly night air.
“What’s going on? Are you?” There’s a tenderness to his voice, speaking to me the way you would speak to a timid animal so as not to frighten them. It’s sweet.
“Do you get nightmares from that night?” I ask shyly, not wanting him to view me as weak for struggling with the things that occurred.
Steve sighs, settling further into the couch as he takes his time figuring out how to say what he wants to get across. Part of him wanting to lie and pretend that everything is fine, the other part of him knowing that he should just be honest and recognize his feelings.
“Yeah.” Steve settles on the one word reply, deciding it may be the better option rather than confessing the truth as to what occurs in these nightmares.
“I haven’t been sleeping much, everytime I do, all I see is that car. Or Dustin’s lifeless body and it’s horrible. Waking up alone, hyperventilating, nobody there to tell me it’ll be okay. I don’t know how I can keep going like this.” I admit, daring to look at the boy and noticing the pained expression on his face.
“Can I be honest?” He whispers, words so quiet I almost don’t hear them. Nodding nervously, his eyes fall to his lap as he speaks. “Everytime I shut my eyes, I can only think about what would’ve happened had I not got to you in time.”
“But you did-”
“You would’ve died, you would’ve died and it would’ve been my fault because I was the one who asked you to come.” He’s crying as he talks, recounting that night and what could have been.
“Steve, you did save me. You’re the entire reason that I’m sitting here right here now. You’re a hero Steve Harrington.” I tell him, shuffling closer and taking his hands in mine. To which he brushes his fingers over my bandaged knuckles. “A very stupid, idiotic, reckless hero. But a hero nonetheless.”
“I would’ve never forgiven myself if I’d let you die. Fuck, I can’t even forgive myself for the way I treated you in school.” He states, gazing over my face and taking in the handful of miniscule cuts scattered across my cheeks from the shattering of the cabinet.
“Would it help if I told you that I forgive you?” I ask, soft smile settled upon my lips.
“Are you sure? I know I hurt you and I don’t want you to feel like you have to forgive me because of what happened and-”
“Steve, I forgive you.” I cut him off, squeezing his hands as I do so. “Not just because of what happened. I mean I’d probably be a shitty person if I didn’t forgive you when you deliberately put your own life at risk to save mine but, you’re a good person. I can see that now. You’re a really good person with a really good heart and in all honesty I think-”
My heart jumps to my throat as I realize what I’m about to confess. Questioning how I even got myself into this mess. If you told sixteen year old me that only two years later I would be sitting on the couch of my nemesis about to own up to the feelings that I may or may not have for him, she would’ve laughed in your face.
“Can I kiss you?” Steve asks softly, before I am able to finish what I’m saying, thankful that I no longer have to find the words.
“I’d really like that.”
The boy’s hand is gentle as he cups my cheek, apprehensively bringing his face to my own and brushing his lips lightly over mine. He’s cautious at first, testing out the waters to ensure that I am truly comfortable. Though, when I push myself closer, fisting his sweater in my hands, he exerts the passion that he had been holding black. Lips moving in sync with mine and bringing his free hand to caress my waist delicately. As the heat grows and any nerves wash away, he effortlessly slides his tongue into my mouth. Shy whimper escaping my mouth as he does so.
When he pulls away, I don’t miss the string of saliva that connects our lips to one another and can’t help but smile. Heart fluttering as Steve’s eyes focus on me adoringly.
“I guess all the rumors were right.” I tease as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, tilting his head slightly at my words. “You really are good at that, King Steve.”
“Oh ha ha.” He replies sarcastically, pulling me into his side and allowing me to rest my head on his chest. Listening intently to the steady beat of his heart.
“Can I stay here tonight? I can’t face another night alone.” I ask, tracing circles across his stomach, his hands stroking my hair lightly.
“I’d like that.”
Whilst I lay in the arms of Steve Harrington, I couldn’t help but feel as though things were starting to look up for me. Sure, it didn’t happen in the way that I was expecting or perhaps wanted. I certainly could have done without the monsters but right now, I finally felt at peace. Even if it was only for a little bit.
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joequiinn · 7 months ago
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 9
[chap eight] | [all chapters here] | [chap ten]
Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
Warnings & Notes | fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
Author's Note | Me?? Taking another unexpected writing hiatus?? Never. But forreal, you all know how life gets. So, as a treat here's a longer chapter (that may or may not be a bit rambly) to make up for my absence. As I wrote, this just kept going and going, so I hope you all enjoy the extra few thousand words lmao
WC | 8.6k
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Chapter Nine
The rest of Monday was absolute shit following your fight with Eddie. After spending the entirety of lunch break hiding out under the bleachers in an attempt to pull yourself together, facing your peers for the rest of the day was the last thing you wanted. The trek to your fifth period class was like some walk of shame, as if you were wearing some damned scarlet letter; it felt as if the entire school was watching you, waiting to see if you’d make yourself look like an idiot again or if you’d erupt. You had never felt so scrutinized before, so susceptible to judgment, but you fought tooth and nail not to give people the reaction they were hoping for.
The next day wasn’t any better. Once again, you felt the weight of everyone’s attention, you felt the pressure of all their judgment. Was this how it felt to be in Eddie’s shoes, how it felt to be a total social outcast? It was even shittier than you could have predicted, and you found yourself questioning the stupid little plan you and Eddie had been hatching that led to this.
It only grew worse as the day went on. Third period was arguably the most frustrating - you were stuck sitting next to Eddie for a whole damn hour, and he didn’t speak a single word to you. You didn’t even think it was possible for that boy to go quiet for longer than a few minutes, yet he proved you wrong, keeping his mouth zipped tight and his eyes on anything but you. Being ignored by Eddie caused your anger to flare, and if you had less self control you would’ve said something about it, would’ve given him a piece of your mind, but your frustrations had kept you, too, surprisingly silent. Or maybe it was the fear of looking stupid again.
Wednesday continued much the same way, although you felt less frustrated by everyone’s critical glances and Eddie’s willful ignorance of your existence. You thought maybe you were starting to get your shit together, that you had finally combatted all your pent up emotions and pushed them all the way down to the pit of your heart, where you'd just ignore them like you did with any challenging feelings. Hell, you were even beginning to fool yourself into thinking that you were feeling better, though deep down you knew that wasn’t true.
The worst that the week had to offer came during lunch that day, though, when you foolishly tried to approach Duncan and demand to know what the hell his deal was. You thought you had pulled yourself together well enough - you spoke with a sharp tone and a cool demeanor, but he and his gang of friends simply mocked your attempts at an argument. They did everything they could to make you feel small, but you kept it together, retreating from their harsh words with all the poise you could muster, hoping that your anger wasn’t too obvious. Their laughter and whispers wouldn't get to you, or at least you'd never show it - the whole school already saw you vulnerable once, it was not about to happen again.
 Consider your reputation officially fucking ruined. 
The thing that hurt more than any of their insults and derogatory words, however, was the look on Eddie’s face as you two met eyes across the lunch room, the way he watched you as you tried to march away from Duncan with your pride still intact. Eddie had been witness to the entire shitty interaction, you realized as you kept your eyes locked on his; the worry and concern so clear on his face caused a crack in your otherwise icy exterior, and you had to rip your gaze away so he couldn't see the hurt in your expression. You nearly broke down the very moment you were out of the cafeteria, the look on Eddie’s face burned into your mind.
The rest of the day was a fucking blur, and you were so emotionally worked up that you were grateful to leave school and go to the one place that could normally calm you down - the ice rink. Wednesday was always your skating day, and today you felt like you needed it more desperately than usual, thankful to spend a few hours on the ice after school. In all your moments of frustration, skating always did wonders to even you out, reminding you why you still enjoyed it after all these years - it helped calm your nerves, clear your head, and relax your heart. It helped to de-escalate your emotions, to make you think straight, and after how hard the past couple of days were, you desperately needed that.
Your anger at Duncan was still burning hot as ever, and even as you slowly relaxed you were still desperate to get back at him, not above stooping to his level. You’d have to corner him when he was alone, without his posse to back him up - then you could really hurt him with your scathing words. You also couldn’t help but wonder just how involved Amelia and Janet were in all this shit - if anything, this stunt was Amelia’s idea, but Janet? She couldn’t have been this cold and heartless; or maybe you just desperately hoped she wasn't.
As you looped around the ice far less elegantly than you normally would, you tried your damnedest not to think about Eddie, as if ignoring the thought of him would somehow remove you from fault. Now that you’ve actually had time to think about it, you knew you’d been mean to him just for the sake of it, just to let your frustrations out on someone. A younger you wouldn't have cared that you mistreated someone, would've just waved it off like a brat and moved on with your life. Hell, only a few months ago, you probably would've still found it comical to talk down to someone like Eddie the way that you did.
But you were not that girl anymore, although you also weren't emotionally ready to acknowledge that Eddie didn’t deserve your vitriol; after all, you were mean to just about everyone, what made him any different? You knew that you’d treated him badly simply because it was easy, because he was the only person there and you needed to let it out. The less prideful part of you knew that you were wrong for that, but that side of you had thus far been outweighed by your own stubbornness. Now, however, you were starting to think maybe you needed to do something about it.
On the one hand, you considered that you had no obligation to make things right with Eddie, and yet, something about that upset you. Were you really so terrible and bitchy that you’d avoid apologizing to him? Were you going to simply ignore him, if not treat him even worse than you’d already had been? That’s certainly something you would have done in the past, but somehow Eddie fucking Munson had made you a little less harsh than you once were.
No, you didn’t need to make this right, but you wanted to. Somehow, Eddie had undeniably grown on you, and at this rate he was virtually the only person you had on your side (that is, of course, if you don’t take into account his ignoring you the past two days). If anyone had even suggested a month ago that you’d be getting along so well with Eddie Munson, you probably would have gagged. What could you and a guy like him possibly have in common, what could you two possibly bond over? These were questions that you were still seeking answers to, even as you drove home after hours of skating at the rink.
Perhaps it was your sense of humor, so much more aligned with his than either of you had expected. Or maybe it was the effortlessness with which you could talk to one another, like you’d already known each other far longer than a few weeks. Hell, maybe it was that Eddie challenged you without even being mean about it, how he so simply gave you new perspectives to take into account and made you reconsider things you thought you knew.
It was strange to realize that, in your own way, you two had become almost-friends quite rapidly. Was that normal? Did other people feel so at ease with someone they’d known for only a few short weeks? You couldn’t remember what it was like when you became friends with Amelia or Janet or anyone else that ran in your former circle - had you bonded with them just as easily as you had with Eddie? Something in you suspected no.
But you tried to avoid thinking about that too much, because you certainly weren’t going to dig into it any deeper.
As you walked through the front door of your home, the silence of the house confirmed to you that your father was still, supposedly, at work. The only time you heard the buzz of electronics throughout the house was when he was around, because your mom never left a television or radio on unnecessarily. You’d bet that she was probably in the kitchen with the radio down low, just a bit of background noise to keep her company as she prepped for dinner. Or maybe she was on the phone in the home office, chatting away with one of her friends about the latest gossip in town.
You hated to admit it, but you and your mom were both used to your father not being around often - most days, he was gone before you left for school and didn’t return home until well into the evening. This had been the family’s routine for years now, so your father’s lack of interest in spending time at home no longer phased you. His absence was just as routine as your school schedule or your mom’s biweekly nail appointments.
You found it far more surprising when he was around - in fact, it almost dared to make you suspicious of him. Because you figured he never seemed interested in spending time with you or your mom, you couldn’t help but speculate what would prompt him to suddenly spend every night at the dinner table for a couple weeks, or to even suggest the family go out together on the weekend. You assumed it was some form of guilt - for a while now, you had yourself convinced that he was having an affair, so perhaps his brief bouts of attentiveness were his measly efforts to reconcile his infidelity with himself.
Of course, you’d never dare even imply this suspicion to your mother, for all you knew it could send her spiraling. And a part of you was convinced that perhaps she’d had her suspicions as well.
As you closed the front door behind you and slid out of your sneakers, you had every intention of running off to your room to avoid your mom entirely. After the week you’d had thus far, you’d rather be left alone, you didn’t want to get caught up in her usual superficial conversations. But before you could even take a step towards the staircase, your mom zipped out of the kitchen towards you, an eager shine in her eyes that almost made her appear younger. You gave her a quizzical look, taking a step back as she got just a little closer than you cared for; even with your parents, you preferred people stay at arm’s length.
“How was your day, hon?” She asked as if in anticipation of something. Your face twisted with even more confusion - what the hell was she so excited about? Was she really that oblivious to the funk you’d been in the past three days?
You stepped around your mom, intending to end this conversation quickly so you could disappear to your room. Your tone was dismissive as you replied coldly, “Not great.”
Her joy seemed to falter a little as she followed just a step behind you; clearly, whatever she wanted to talk about seemed to be important to her, “What do you mean?”
You paused to look back at her again, your agitation clear on your face as you studied her. You weren’t certain, but it seemed as if she were expecting a different response - a particular response. What exactly was she fishing for?
“Today sucked. Just like the rest of this shitty week.” Your tone was cold as you raised your brow, hoping that your attitude may deter her from asking anymore questions. Your callous word choice caused her to pull a face, studying your expression as if she were seeing you for the first time in a long time. For a moment, you thought maybe she’d actually act like your mother, you thought maybe she’d ask you what was wrong and offer a shoulder to cry on.
“I figured it’d be good,” she started with concern in her voice, putting on something of an encouraging smile, “considering the assembly on Monday.”
Dread immediately washed over you, her words causing your heart to drop into your stomach - how did she know about the assembly? The school wouldn’t have called the parents about it, they didn’t care that much. Maybe one of her friends had heard from their kid and then told her? Possibly, but not the most likely. So, how did she know?
All you could do was stare for a few tense moments, fighting to keep in all the feelings you’d just worked through on the ice rink. Your jaw tightened as you swallowed hard, attempting to quiet your mind and take a deep breath. Your intense eyes burned into your mother, who seemed to recognize that what she’d just said may have been a mistake.
“How do you know about that?” You probed with an edge to your voice, feeling as if all your emotions were going to come spilling out of you at any minute.
Although she appeared hesitant, your mom kept her composure, persisting to act bright in the foolish hopes that it would help you relax, “Amelia called while you were out.”
If your heart could drop any further, it would have. You began to feel almost out of body as you started to piece it all together, already realizing Amelia’s fucking game. She knew you wouldn’t have mentioned your dissolved friendship to your mother because of your distant relationship with your parents, and now she was using it against you. To what end? Simply to torment you more?
Receiving no response from you, your mother smiled encouragingly, still trying her hardest to keep things chipper as she continued, “She wanted to know if I’d like to be a chaperone for homecoming. She seemed so excited that both of you were nominated for homecoming queen!”
Your jaw clenched in anger, eyes growing harsher as they burnt into your mother. You had no reason to be mad at her, but at that moment your rage was coming back up, clawing its way out of you. It took everything in your power not to shout expletives in her face.
So, you turned away from her, trying to collect yourself by taking a few deep breaths. From over your shoulder, your mom continued, trying in vain to understand what was going on with you, “Honey, what’s wrong? This should be exciting news.”
You whipped around angrily, but bit your tongue as you two stared at one another, you in vexation and your mom in concern. You took one more deep breath while rolling your eyes, looking away again.
“Did Amelia tell you who I was nominated with? Or that we haven’t spoken a word to each other in nearly two weeks?” As your frustration bubbled, you met her eyes again, “Or that I was only nominated as some shitty prank? Did she mention that I ran out of the gym like a fucking coward because of how humiliated I felt?”
Your mother’s face was awash with concern as she looked between your eyes, and for a moment you really did think she’d comfort you, in fact, you were almost hoping for it. But that was quickly squashed, “Will you please watch your language? You don’t have to get so worked up.”
The upset on your face only increased - despite everything else you said, your language was the thing that concerned her most? You scoffed with frustration, shaking your head in disbelief as you all but shoved past her, keeping your wild eyes away from hers.
“You don’t even care!” You said venomously, stomping back towards your belongings left by the front door. Haphazardly, you shoved your feet into your shoes and dug around for your keys, “I’m not good right now, mom, and all you’re worried about is my fucking language! Do you care how I’m feeling?”
With a flustered look, your mom approached you, “Of course I care, but I can’t even understand you anymore! You’ve been so different recently, so much more distant. How am I supposed to know what’s going on if you won’t tell me?”
You simply shook your head, throwing your bag back on your shoulder once you had your keys. As you swung open the front door, it bounced off the wall, causing your mother to gasp at the aggressive act.
“Where are you going!?” She insisted while following you outside. You didn’t dare look back, marching towards your car as your anger continued to bubble over.
“Anywhere but here!” As you whipped around to the driver side door, you finally looked at your mother, who lingered on the front steps with a disappointed and confused expression. You were sure you looked absolutely wild and irate as you flung open the car door, carelessly tossing your bag inside and holding your mother’s gaze.
You could see that she was trying to make sense of the chaos happening right now, trying her best to keep it together as if that would calm you down now after everything that just happened. She wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so emotional and out of control - she’d seen you angrier these past couple weeks than you’d been your entire fucking life.
“Please just come back inside.” She tried earnestly, but you were too far gone to hear any of it. You ripped your gaze from hers and slammed the car door once you were settled into the seat, zipping out of the driveway fast enough that you nearly hit the mailbox.
You didn’t make it far, though, having to pull over only a minute later because you realized you were on the verge of crying. Fuck, when was the last time that had happened? You were never the type to get emotional like this, but shit, you’d had a stressful week. You had to catch your breath, to hold back your tears of anger, slamming your fists on the steering wheel a few times as if that could make everything better. You didn’t dare let a single tear roll down your face, but they were so welled up in your eyes that you could barely see, forcing you to blink and wipe them away.
What the hell were you doing? Where did you expect to go? These melodramatics felt fucking ridiculous, and you tried to convince yourself you were freaking out over nothing, although your emotions were clearly telling you otherwise. You couldn’t keep acting like this, you wouldn’t allow it - it wasn’t you, and it made you feel weak.
But shit, you felt like your world had been crashing down around you all week, and it was impossible to keep it together right now. So, you pounded your fists against the dashboard, hissing foul words while continuing to fight back everything that was swirling in your chest. You were certain that if any of your neighbors walked by your haphazardly parked car, they’d think you were having a total mental break. And maybe you were; fuck if you knew. You weren’t exactly thinking clearly right now.
After what felt like an eternity, you’d exhausted all your rage, dejectedly catching your breath and attempting to regain your composure. Shit, what were you going to do now? There’s no way in hell you’d go back home - you weren’t ready to deal with your mother again so soon. Or worse, your father, whose temper would simply set you off again.
As you swallowed down the lump in your throat, you couldn’t help but think of your fight with Eddie, and without any hesitation you accepted that right now you missed him. If you weren't so emotional, you'd have stopped to consider how strange that was. Maybe the past few days wouldn’t have been such shit if you’d just been nicer to him; maybe this was karma at work, making you miserable for how you treated him.
You had to apologize to Eddie. Right fucking now.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
As you drove through Forest Hills, you realized you’d never once set foot in a trailer park before. Looking out your windshield at the dark street, you were certain that one trailer home would maybe fill only two bedrooms of your own home. How people lived in such close quarters was something you couldn’t even comprehend, and on a normal night maybe you would’ve lingered on that thought. But considering that you came here on a mission, you were unable to become distracted; no, the anxiety that was rapidly growing in your chest kept you laser focused on the task you set out on.
It wasn’t until you reached this side of Hawkins that your fear began to mount - should you really be showing up to Eddie’s place unannounced? Is this terrible timing? What if his uncle was home? The further into Forest Hills you drove, the more worried you became. For all you knew, Eddie would slam the door in your face, tell you to fuck off and leave him alone. And after all the shit you’d dealt with this week, you couldn’t handle any more rejection.
Maybe you should just turn around and get out of here while you still have the chance.
But as that thought crossed your mind, you spotted Eddie’s van in front of one of the trailers, and your heart rate sped up to a frankly concerning pace. Shit, it was now or never. Turn back around and head home or face Eddie and his possible rejection. Frankly, both options sounded fucking awful.
For a few long moments, you simply lingered on the road, staring at Eddie’s trailer as your heart drummed in your chest; your eyes roved over the illuminated windows, half expecting to see Eddie’s silhouette appear in one of them any second now. But when no visual indicator of him appeared, you shook yourself back to the present, pulling up alongside his van with the brief thought that maybe he saw your headlights. You hesitated at that, waiting yet again to see if he’d appear in the window or at the door. Fuck, if you were going to be this nervous, you might as well just get out of here.
But you knew you couldn’t do that. You knew you had to talk to Eddie again, you had to have at least one decent relationship in your life right now. Considering that he was the closest thing you had to a friend at the moment, you had to make amends with him. Not that Eddie owed you any forgiveness, of course - again, the fear that he’d want nothing to do with you came creeping back up, even as you pulled the keys from the ignition and slowly stepped out of the car.
Fuck, what were you going to do if Eddie didn’t want to talk? You didn’t think you could manage to survive the rest of the week if he didn’t forgive you. Despite trying to ignore the thought, in a way you realized that right now you needed Eddie.
This shit better work.
You felt almost shaky as you approached the front door, hearing thrashing metal music reverberating inside the trailer. You had to take another pause at the door to collect yourself - you were not nervous like this, and you refused to appear this nervous in front of anyone. You were here to apologize, not to be vulnerable. So, you pulled yourself together with a few deep breaths, marching up to the door and knocking strongly before you could think to hesitate any longer. Considering how loud the music was, you realized Eddie probably didn't hear you, so you roughly pounded your fist against the door once again. You put on a brave face, taking one more deep breath as the music quieted and someone approached the door.
Of course, once you and Eddie locked eyes, you suddenly froze. All the things you’d rehearsed on the way over here momentarily left your head as you took in his surprised expression, the look in his eyes that suggested you were the last person he expected to see on his doorstep. For what felt like hours, the two of you stared at one another as you attempted to collect your thoughts, attempted to keep all your hurt from showing on your face.
You eventually had to rip your eyes away from Eddie, maybe then you could finally find your voice again. As you stared at his feet, you straightened out your back and clenched your jaw, trying to quiet your mind and get out at least one coherent thought. With a deep breath, you flicked your gaze back to his face.
“Can we talk?” Your voice came out strong, if not a little cold - good, at least you didn’t sound as weak as you’d been feeling recently.
Eddie’s expression was still a little taken aback, even as he tried to put on a calm, collected air. Had you not caught him so off guard, perhaps you would’ve been fooled by the lazy smirk he gave you or his seemingly relaxed posture. But given the look of near astonishment that was on his face only a moment prior, you knew he was probably just as unprepared for this conversation as you were.
“Well, since you drove all the way here…” Eddie trailed off in what was meant to be a casual tone, stepping to the side and nodding his head towards the trailer behind him. You looked between his eyes and the entryway for a moment before stepping up into his home, immediately taking it all in attentively - it was easier to focus on your surroundings than to focus on him and your emotions.
You weren’t sure what you had expected of Eddie’s home, but as you stood in his small living room, everything appeared exactly as it should have - the place was cozy, decorated with items that were clearly personal, reflecting the taste of someone so unlike your own family. Back in your own home, the art on the wall was perfectly curated by your mother, the only photos being staged family portraits; the furniture was also meticulously decided on, meant to look cohesive and clean and modern.
Here in the Munson trailer, the space actually felt lived in - the coffee table was stacked with car magazines and western paperbacks, the walls adorned with collections of hats and mugs. The furniture was worn from years of use, the kitchen was cluttered, a fold out bed was pushed off to one side - yes, this home actually had life to it, unlike the stale living environment you were so used to. Without having met the man, you already had a strong sense of Eddie’s uncle just by looking around the place.
The more you looked at the Munson home, the more your curiosity grew - you wanted to ask more about Eddie and his uncle and all the little details that made them a family. But before you could get to know any more about Eddie, first you had to actually make things right with him. So, you turned your attention back to him, briefly catching the self-conscious look on his face that he very quickly corrected - did he feel judged, having you in his home like this? Was he worried what you’d think now that you had this more intimate glimpse at his life?
The two of you stared at one another for a few long moments; Eddie was clearly anticipating what you’d say next, and you were still trying to decide where exactly to start. You raised a brow as you let out a breath, forcing yourself to look away again so you could actually speak - looking Eddie in the eye like this made it harder to apologize.
“I shouldn’t have acted like that.” You started, letting your gaze continue to roam over trinkets and decor in the living room. Off to your side, you heard Eddie hum in acknowledgement instead of saying anything, which seemed to be your cue to continue. You sighed a little, forcing yourself to be honest, hard as it may be; your voice was a touch quieter as you added, “You didn’t deserve that shit.”
“No, I didn’t.” Eddie responded with a hint of harshness to his tone, but considering the circumstances, he didn’t sound nearly as mad as you’d expected. You slowly spun around, looking anywhere but his direction so your words would come more easily.
“I… like having you around.” The sentence sounded juvenile to your ears, but you simply continued, “I know all I wanted was to stir shit up and be left alone, but the past couple days--”
You had to cut yourself off, suddenly feeling a sadness well up in your throat - you were not about to break, not right now, not in front of Eddie. So, you swallowed hard and tried to calm down before he could see the chink in your armor.
“Not so fun being on the other side of things, huh?” Eddie chimed in, saving you from yourself with his comment. You turned to him with a nod, hoping your eyes didn’t give too much away.
“Fucking sucks, actually.” You managed a small, sad smile. It looked as if Eddie, too, wanted to mirror the expression, but he kept it to himself. You took in his posture, his crossed arms and guarded look, hoping that you were getting through to him.
You let out a sigh, your gaze drifting down to the floor as you struggled to find your words. God, being sincere shouldn’t be so damn hard, but you were never one to admit your faults, never the type to open up easily. Despite your usual confidence and brashness, you couldn’t even seem to form proper sentences right now.
“I forgive you.” Those three simple words drew a surprised look from you, to which Eddie shrugged as he continued, looking away with a coolness that surely had to be for show, “Your apology could use some work, seeing as you couldn’t even say ‘sorry,’ but you were forgiven the second I opened that door.”
That last statement was shockingly honest and somehow a touch too vulnerable for your liking - it made you nervous, and you couldn’t say why. Was Eddie just being hyperbolic, saying that to make you feel better? Or was it the truth, could he have possibly been willing to forgive you just like that simply because you showed up on his doorstep? Both of those ideas made you apprehensive in vastly different ways.
With a quick shake of your head, you tried to pull yourself together, straightening your shoulders and wiping the vulnerable look from your face. You met Eddie’s kind eyes with as much coolness as you could muster, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that you were relieved with how this conversation had gone. There was a glint of amusement in Eddie’s face as he watched you, as if he knew exactly what was going through your head, as if he knew your calm demeanor was all for show.
Eddie looked down, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, “So long as you don’t drag me to that stupid homecoming, we’ll be alright.”
You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at the suggestion, thankful that Eddie made the effort to break the tension in the room - you were done trying to be vulnerable, and it seemed that he could sense that, too.
“As if I’d let myself be the Carrie White of their shitty joke.” You gave Eddie a playful glance, catching the way his brow furrowed.
“Carrie, huh?”
You also gave him a look, “Yeah, you know - telekinetic chick who killed everyone at prom?”
The smile that graced Eddie’s lips was nearly infectious as he laughed with a shake of his head, “Oh, I know Carrie, I’m just surprised that you do - you don’t seem the horror type.”
You cross your arms teasingly - it was so easy to fall back into this pattern with Eddie, easy to bounce off each other. Admittedly, you missed it.
“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” You counter with a small smirk, to which Eddie gave you a challenging look.
“Well, it would help if you opened up a little more, princess.” The nickname rolled off Eddie’s tongue with ease, and it was a relief to hear it - that had to mean you really were forgiven, that he hadn't just said so to make you feel better. Even still, you narrowed your eyes, prompting Eddie to continue in his defense, “I know nothing about your hobbies, but you know practically all of mine.”
You looked him up and down once, “You know that I skate.”
Eddie rolled his eyes teasingly, although he sounded deathly serious as he said, “There’s clearly more to you than that.”
The sincerity in Eddie’s tone juxtaposed his playful look, giving you pause, making you nervous. You answered simply and with a dismissive shrug, hoping it didn't lead into some deeper conversation, “Guess that makes you the first person to notice.”
You turned away from Eddie to continue looking around, taking in the room as you debated whether or not you’d elaborate on your interests. Considering that Eddie made a good point about not knowing you well, you caved - after all, did you want him as a friend or not?
“I love horror movies.” You take a few steps towards a shelf filled with videos and cassettes, your eyes slowly looking over the titles, “Books, too, but the movies are way scarier, so they’re more fun.”
A few familiar horror titles sat on the shelf, causing you to grin and glance back at Eddie, who seemed to be watching you attentively. Realizing he was caught staring, he quickly righted himself and met your gaze, his curious smile growing. You could see in his face that questions were forming, that he probably wanted to ask what you liked about horror or what movie was your favorite. Expectantly, you turned to face him with an eager raise of your brow.
Eddie looked between your eyes for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what to say first, finally nudging his chin towards the VHS collection on the shelf, “You pick a movie, I’ll order us a pizza?”
You couldn’t help but be surprised at the suggestion - for two days you didn’t speak a word to each other, but again you were reminded of just how effortless it was to go back to the way things were. You smiled in appreciation for Eddie’s ability to make anything easy like this.
As much as you loved the idea, you hesitated, “It’s getting kinda late…”
Eddie waved it off before you could say anything else, “So? My uncle won’t be back for hours, and I don’t think either of us has anything better going on.”
So, you nodded, eagerly turning your attention back to the small collection of movies on the shelf - you wondered which ones were Eddie’s and which were his uncle’s. Quickly, you settled on a movie that you were excited to see there, grabbing it from the shelf and spinning to face Eddie as he dialed the nearest pizza place. You felt like an excited child as you held up Videodrome for him to see. Again, Eddie appeared surprised, but didn’t get the chance to comment as he was greeted by someone on the other end of the call. He probably wouldn’t have guessed Cronenberg to be your taste in horror.
With the pizza ordered and the movie loaded into the VCR, you and Eddie settled on opposite ends of the couch. Within a minute of the movie starting, however, you couldn’t help yourself as you began to eagerly go on and on about how technically impressive the effects in this movie were. You weren’t sure how long you went on for, but after a while you realized you were going on a tangent, cutting yourself off as you looked at Eddie for the inevitable judgment to come. You’d grown used to your friends rolling their eyes or your mom telling you to stop talking about disgusting horror movies, but Eddie looked so… attentive? So interested to listen to what you were saying?
You looked back at the screen almost sheepishly, but you could still feel the burn of Eddie’s eyes watching you.
“You’re kind of a nerd.” He said with far too much glee, causing you to whip your mean gaze back to him; Eddie was smiling from ear-to-ear, clearly pleased with himself and his discovery of your hidden interest.
“I am not.” You scoff, trying not to grin back at him. Eddie leaned across the couch as if to emphasize his taunting, his eyes challenging as he stared at you.
“You just spent five minutes talking about how much you love to watch a fake head blow up - seems kinda nerdy.”
It felt as if no rift had ever formed between you two, as if you hadn’t just been awkwardly trying to apologize to him some fifteen minutes ago. Eddie just made it ridiculously easy to relax, to forget all the bullshit from the past few days.
You gave Eddie’s shoulder a playful shove, so he sat back up in his seat, that wicked grin still on his face, “What, don’t want to be lumped in with the rest of us?”
Despite trying to give Eddie a threatening look, you knew your eyes were betraying you - all of the menace in your expression was destroyed by the way your eyes blatantly shone with amusement. You had to look away again, otherwise you feared you might laugh.
“Liking horror doesn’t make me a nerd.” You insisted.
“No, but considering you made a whole speech about how impactful Cronenberg’s use of gore is, I wouldn’t call you a casual fan.” Eddie teased, and even without looking you knew just how big his grin was.
So, you kept your eyes trained on the screen, hoping to become absorbed in the movie as you tried to ignore the way Eddie was studying you. And it worked for at least a few minutes - you began to smile at the familiar film, attentively following the story development, all the while slowly forgetting about the eyes practically burning a hole in your skull.
But in his typical fashion, Eddie couldn’t stay quiet for too long.
“Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers?”
Without missing a beat, you looked back at Eddie, unable to hold your tongue on the debate. Your tone was perhaps a little snobby as you answered, “Michael, obviously.”
Again, Eddie grinned largely with a challenge in his eye, “‘Obviously?’”
Of course, you knew what he was doing - he was clearly trying to poke at you, but damn it, it was working. You couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk about movie slashers to a captive audience, even if said audience was likely going to keep egging you on.
You rolled your eyes, folding your legs up on the couch as you turned your body towards Eddie, “Jason isn’t scary.”
“Not scary? He and Michael are basically the same guy.” You pulled a face at the comment, noticing that Eddie seemed pleased with himself for getting you going on the subject.
“And I guess you think they’re also just like Bubba?” Eddie grinned wickedly, so you quickly reached over to smack his shoulder, “Don’t you dare say it.”
“Say what?”
You narrowed your eyes, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to debate your point. You took a deep breath before looking back towards the movie, “Michael is better, end of conversation.”
“I’m more of a Freddy guy myself.” Eddie taunts, clearly not done tormenting you. You shot him a look from the corner of your eye, but didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of a response, trying to keep your attention on the movie instead. A minute later, Eddie chimed up again, “The Exorcist or the Omen?”
To that, you didn’t have as quick an answer, mulling it over for a moment before replying - when you answered with the Exorcist, Eddie couldn’t help but say that response was predictable.
So, it led you down the rabbit hole, Videodrome being totally forgotten in favor of debating your horror opinions. For every answer to Eddie’s questions, he had a counterargument - it didn’t matter whether or not you two agreed on something, he clearly just wanted to get you riled up. Maybe he enjoyed seeing you get excited about something, maybe he enjoyed the way you’d argue your case on characters you loved and hated.
When the pizza arrived, you raced Eddie to the door, paying for the food despite his protests, the pair of you clearly annoying the delivery driver who didn’t give a shit where the money came from so long as he got it. All through your meal, you two continued talking over the movie, which eventually reached its end and prompted Eddie to start playing another that you also wouldn’t pay any attention to.
As the night wore on, your debates eventually died down; your seat on the couch became increasingly more comfortable, and the shitty horror movie you had on was beginning to lull you to sleep. Considering how long your day - no, your whole week - had been, you were surprised it took this long for your exhaustion to set in. So, you slowly settled into the couch, progressively slumping into the cushions.
Seeing the tired look on your face, Eddie nudged you and insisted you lie down, and you were tired enough not to argue, resting on your side so you can continue watching the movie. You keep your legs curled up to avoid getting in Eddie’s space, but nonetheless your knees rest comfortable against his thigh. At some point between half awake and half asleep, you thought that maybe you felt his hand resting comfortably on your leg, but you were too tired to say for sure.
As the night wore on, you must have inevitably fallen asleep, because next thing you knew, you were being pulled out of a dream, a hand gently shaking your shoulder and Eddie’s far off voice encouraging you to wake up. You figured at first that the voice was just a part of your dream, but as the tone grew more clear and insistent, you were brought back to reality. Groggily, you blinked your eyes open with a confused glare - how long had you been out for? And what time was it?
Catching your eyes with his, the corner of Eddie’s mouth pulled back in a small grin, “Jesus, you sleep like the dead.”
A tired moan rumbled in your throat as your eyes narrowed. You tried to roll onto your other side as if you could somehow avoid Eddie that way, your words nonthreatening and heavy with sleep, “Fuck off…”
As Eddie sighed with annoyance, an unfamiliar huff of a laugh met your ears, but you weren’t nearly awake enough to even wonder who it belonged to. Eddie pulled at your shoulder so you couldn’t turn away from him, to which you whined again.
“No, you’re not sleeping on the couch, it’ll ruin your back.” Eddie insisted, teasingly pulling at your arm - if you weren’t still half asleep, it wouldn’t have annoyed you nearly as much as it did, “Come on, get up.”
You opened your harsh eyes again, knowing Eddie wouldn’t allow himself to be ignored. As your eyes adjusted, his face slowly came into focus, his hair haloed by the light of the TV; kneeling beside you, he was clearly trying to hide the amusement he found in your sleepy attitude.
The two of you stared at one another for a long minute as the fog slowly lifted from your brain, making you more and more aware of your surroundings. Your gaze drifted away from Eddie, noticing movement in the corner of your eye; turning in the direction of it, you made eye contact with a man who had to have been Eddie’s uncle. He quickly turned away, pretending to be preoccupied with something in the kitchen, as if that would give you and Eddie a measly sense of privacy.
With a deep yawn, you looked at Eddie again, begrudgingly accepting that you had to get up. You slowly rose into a seated position, your feet brushing Eddie’s leg as you moved to set them on the ground; he rose and took a step back to give you a little more space. Stretching your arms above your head and popping your neck, you looked between the two men, noticing that Eddie seemed to be somewhat sheepish, which made you curious. Was he embarrassed that this was how you and his uncle were meeting? Was it because he felt like you two were caught doing something wrong? Or was it something else entirely that influenced that expression on his face?
You sighed heavily as you rose to your feet, your face scrunching up a little as you looked around the room; your voice was still heavy with sleep as you asked, “What time is it? I have to go home.”
Eddie shook his head at the same moment that his uncle silently disappeared to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running drifting out from under the door; maybe he was trying to give you two a bit more privacy.
“You don’t have to go.” Eddie says in a surprisingly gentle tone, to which you furrow your brow, “It’s late and you're exhausted - just stay here tonight.”
You weakly tried to protest, although you were so tired that it was a relief to hear that Eddie wasn’t kicking you out in the wee hours of the morning, “I really shouldn’t.”
“You really should.” Eddie insisted, clearly not open to argument. Luckily for him, you accepted the response instantly, your head still too foggy to find a good enough reason to leave. So, you nod smally while trying to stifle another yawn.
Eddie points his hand in the direction of the bedroom, and you immediately accept the invitation, confidently heading that way as if you owned the damn place. You didn’t catch the tug of a smile that graced Eddie’s lips as he followed just a step behind you.
You entered the dark bedroom and all but collapsed onto the bed, hearing a slight laugh leave Eddie’s lips; at least he found it funny instead of rude, not that you were terribly concerned with that right now. No, the only thing on your mind at the moment was curling into the mattress and sleeping undisturbed for the rest of the night. You comfortably wrapped your arms around one of Eddie’s pillows, inhaling his lingering scent without considering what you were doing. 
“You gonna sleep in that?” Eddie teased, reminding you that you were still in the workout clothes that you wore for skating. Like a stubborn child unwilling to do a task, you grunted, sitting back up and trying to find Eddie in the dark. You caught his silhouette digging through what you assumed to be a pile of clothes, eventually pulling something out and tossing it in your direction. The t-shirt weakly hit you in the chest before falling into your lap, so you started to pull off your own soiled shirt, letting it fall forgotten somewhere on the floor.
Light still filtered into the room through the gap in the door, so you caught the way Eddie spun around to give you privacy just as you started to tug at your bra; you couldn’t help but smile, finding it funny as he pushed the door closed. After all, it was dark enough that he probably couldn’t see anything; and even if he could, it didn’t matter. Right?
Eddie kept himself preoccupied, returning his attention to the stack of clothes as you pulled his scratchy t-shirt over your head; thanks to the darkness of the room, you didn’t catch the way he glanced back at you curiously. Once you were comfortable, you lied back down and began to burrow in the blankets, pulling them over your head as you listened to Eddie strip out of his own clothes.
A few moments later, one of the blankets was being yanked from the bed; you greedily tried to grab it before it was gone, but to no avail, which prompted you to poke your head out from the cocoon you’d built. You couldn’t quite find Eddie in the dark, but you nonetheless furrowed your brow in the direction you figured he was in.
“What are you doing?” You questioned groggily as your eyes began to adjust; you could now make out Eddie’s shadow as he appeared to turn to you.
“Sleeping on the floor.” He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, nudging things aside with his foot before dropping the blanket to the ground. As he leaned over the bed to grab a pillow, you rolled your eyes and reached out to nudge him, making contact with bare skin before shuffling over to make room on the small bed.
“Like hell you are.” You attempted to snuggle into your new position, but seeing Eddie awkwardly lingering prompted you to reach over and give his arm a quick tug, “Get the fuck in the bed, Munson.”
Eddie hesitated a moment longer, and although he couldn’t see it, you stared at him in amused scrutiny. With a huff, you threw aside the blankets and hit the mattress once for emphasis, “Don’t tell me you’re nervous to share a bed with a girl.”
You readjusted to face away from Eddie, wrapping your arms around your pillow again and burying your face in it, getting cozy almost instantly. Behind you, he sighed before his weight shifted the mattress; just from the feel of his movements, you knew Eddie was awkwardly trying to stay as close to the edge of the bed as possible. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a smile at how stiff he was - at this rate, he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep.
“Stop worrying about it, Eddie.” You muttered gently, curling up in the blankets as if you were a cat lying in the sun. A big yawn escaped you as you felt Eddie shift a little, and you knew you’d be out like a light any minute now, “Try to get some sleep, okay?”Eddie hummed in acknowledgement, and despite his best efforts to keep his distance, you could still feel his body heat radiating near you. Smiling comfortably to yourself, you quickly began to doze off, barely catching Eddie’s whispered “Night, princess…” before you fell back into a deep sleep.
.
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addt. Author's Note | I couldn't keep these two apart for even an entire chapter, so I hope their lil reconciliation was worth the wait!
Taglist | @3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson
@daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @em0220
@frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @graciehams @kthomps914
@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili
@miaajaade @mmmunson @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive
@rcailleachcola @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year ago
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I once had to pose in a ton of photos for a friend's AP photography final back in high school so may I present to you:
Steve Harrington, who gave in to Robin's begging that he act as her weird art model for her senior year portfolio (the same one her teacher is encouraging her to bat out of the ballpark and enter into contests.) 
She's doing a whole thing on fashion, subcultures and sexuality using photos and collaged poetry, a project that has Steve trying on different outfits and posing in different places. 
"This might help me land a scholarship, Dingus." She hisses while she's got him bent over her bathtub, spraying parts of his hair blue with wash-out dye.
Steve, soulmate and best friend extraordinaire, goes through it all with minimal (for him) bitching, even if the goth outfit feels absolutely ridiculous, and the 'geek' photoshoot downright laughable.
He starts to have fun when she has him mimic Nancy's straight laced, all A's good girl aura, and equally has a blast with the country look (he has no idea where Robin got a miniature horse but it conned him for every piece of food he had on him and then some.) 
The final piece is the one they're struggling with, the one Robin's now (fake) dying his hair partially blue for. 
A few hours later and he's dressed up once again in a studded leather jacket, the tightest jeans he owns ringed with belts, and combat boots.
 Robin had even talked him into letting her use eyelash glue to attach a few metal studs on his face--two acting as an eyebrow piercing and one on his nose. 
The looks he drew took a minute to get used too when all was said and done, Robin dragging him around Hawkins while she tried to find the 'perfect backdrop' but he's not gonna lie. 
He kinda enjoys being punk Steve.
That is, until Robin has him posing in an alleyway and Eddie Munson comes around the corner, jaw right about falling to the floor.
Even better? 
Eddie doesn't recognize him. 
Not at first, when he siddles up to Steve, nodding to the handkerchief in Steve's back pocket and then flicking the pink triangle pin on his jacket with a finger. 
Steve owes Jonathan a bottle of his father's best alcohol for giving him enough knowledge to get through the music razing Eddie subjects him too, and Steve's all too happy to play the part of punk asshole to Munson's music-snob metalhead.
It's not until Eddies playing with his hair and Robin gives in to letting him have a quick break from the shoot that he gives up the ghost, leaning in to whisper in Eddie's ear. 
"Gotta say, Munson," Steve all but purrs."I wasn't expecting you to fall for the Harrington Charm that fast."
"What?" Eddie asks, jerking his head back to look at him with wide eyes. 
Maybe it's the outfit giving him the extra ounce of courage, but Steve likes to think more that it gives him the freedom to lean forward and brush their lips together. 
Eddie doesn't return it, but that's alright. 
Steve's played this game enough to know that it was merely a hook for a real kiss. 
"Okay." Robin says, annoyed, camera at her side. "Steve, I'm happy that you're finally exploring that repressed as fuck homosexuality we keep arguing about, I really am, but I have to get this last photo!" 
He ignores her, instead nudging Eddie's shoulders.
"Care to pose with me?" Steve asks, grinning. He can tell Eddie still isn't sure if this is a joke, that he's seconds from running, and reaches out to tug on his black handkerchief. "Get Robin her photo, and then talk about this after, Mr. S&M."
Eddie flushes scarlet, but after some reassurance (and wheelding) from Robin, finally agrees. 
(Later, he agrees to a date, which Steve also credits the outfit for.
Even if Robin demands half the credit.) 
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lavenderstobins · 6 months ago
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Random Robin Headcanons
She was named by her parents putting their names together (Robert and Ingrid)
Her paternal grandmother is French
She's allergic to shellfish
She had a secret 'relationship' with Carol Perkins the summer of '85
Her gender is lesbian
She always smells faintly of lavender
Her birthday is November 10th (she's a Scorpio)
She's like catnip to the sapphics of Hawkins but she is painfully oblivious to it
She has a tiny pinprick scar on her neck from where the Russians injected her (Steve has a matching one)
She also has faint scars around her neck and wrists from the vines in the upside down
When she has nightmares, she wakes up in a panic and needs to call Steve to hear he's alive
She spends most of her time at Steve's house rather than her own
She's an only child
She goes to Stanford for college and double-majors in film and linguistics
She'd be a college professor when she's older
She's terrified of being forgotten and being nobody to anyone
Her parents had a baby because it "made sense" for their relationship but quickly discovered they had no actual interest in parenting. She has a bad relationship with her mom and an okay relationship with her dad
Both her parents are nurses. Her father dies in an attack on the hospital post-s4
Her middle name is Josephine, picked by her grandmother Jocelyn (in Josieverse, this is where she gets the name)
She has freckles all over her body
She has AuDHD
She's read the entirety of the Lord of the Rings series but refuses to let any of the party find out because she thinks it's funny to annoy them by deliberately getting things wrong (she calls Bilbo "Dildo" once and Dustin gets so heated trying to correct her that he turns scarlet)
She has poor circulation so her hands and feet are always freezing. She uses this to be a menace 100% of the time
After Starcourt, she's afraid of being high
She's made friendship bracelets for everyone
She wears only silver jewellery
She's a great cook but gets distracted easily so Steve and Nancy usually keep her company
While Steve has his nailbat, Robin tends to use either a crowbar or a machete
Her favourite Christmas song is 'Stop the Cavalry' because of the trumpets
She and Steve have necklaces with each other's initial on them
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medievalandfantasymelee · 3 months ago
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The First Round of Contest Has now Concluded.
This Round began with 148 Contenders - Now 74 remain.
All polls in this round (as well as summaries of each day's results) may be found here
The 10 Closest Tilts in the First Round (in Reverse Order) were
10. The Sheriff of Nottingham [Alan Rickman] Def. Kili [Aiden Turner]
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9. King Marke of Cornwall [Rufus Sewell] Def. Prince Prospero [Vincent Price]
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8. Sir Guy of Gisbourne [Basil Rathbone] Def. Finan [Mark Rowley]
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7. Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert [Ciaran Hinds] Def. Robert the Bruce [Chris Pine]
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6. Hugh Beringar [Sean Pertwee] Def. Father Beocca [Ian Hart]
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5. Bard the Bowman [Luke Evans] Def. Will Scarlet O'Hara [Matthew Porretta]
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4. Lin Shu [Hu Ge] Def. Arman [Matvey Lykov]
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3. Meriadoc "Merry" Brandybuck [Dominic Monaghan] Def. Geoffrey Chaucer [Paul Bettany]
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2. Saladin [Milind Soman] Def. Jon Snow [Kit Harrington]
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1. Rodrigo Borgia [Jeremy Irons] Def. Lord Tywin Lannister [Charles Dance]
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And the 10 Tilts with the widest margins of victory were (in reverse order):
10. Inigo Montoya [Mandy Patinkin] Def. Corlys Velaryon [Steve Toussaint]
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9. Frodo Baggins [Elijah Wood] Def. Prince Chauncley [Daniel Radcliffe]
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8. Aragorn Elessar [Viggo Mortensen] Def. Ahmad [Mahesh Jadu]
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7. King Henry II [Peter O'Toole] Def. Thomas Becket [Richard Burton]
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6. Thorin Oakenshield [Richard Armitage] Def. King Edward IV [Max Irons]
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5. Gawain [Dev Patel] Def. Matrim "Mat" Cauthon [Donal Finn]
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4. Éomer, Son of Éomund [Karl Urban] Def. King Arthur [Sean Connery]
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3. William Thatcher [Heath Ledger] VS. King Vortigern [Jude Law]
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2. Boromir, Son of Denethor [Sean Bean] Def. Alessandro Farnese [Diarmuid Noyes]
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1. Faramir, Son of Denethor [David Wenham] Def. Uther Pendragon [Gabriel Byrne]
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The Tilt with the most votes (by far) at 5,177 Votes was Geralt of Rivia [Henry Cavill] Vs. Sir Gary Galavant [Joshua Sasse] Which Galavant won with 57.7% of the Vote
It was an exodus of two-by-twos this round with both of our Ewan Mitchells [Aemond Targaryen and Osferth], both of our Henry Cavills [Geralt of Rivia and Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk], AND both of our Iain Glens [Ser Jorah Mormont and Prince Hamlet] losing their respective tilts to Erik Thurgilson [Christian Hillborg], Fili [Dean O'Gorman], Galavant [Joshua Sasse], Prince John [Oscar Isaac], "The Player" [Richard Dreyfuss] and Ned Stark [Sean Bean]. Even both of our Laurence Oliviers [Prince Hamlet and Henry V] were sent scurrying to the vents in disgrace, losing their tilts against Cesare Borgia [Francois Arnaud] and Elrond Half-elven [Hugo Weaving].
In fact, nearly of of the men of Middle Earth fared uncommon well in this round, with only three losing their matches. Haldir [Craig Parker] was unable to best the charms of that most magnificent of minstrels, Hubert Hawkins [Danny Kaye]. Kili [Aiden Turner] had a strong start against George, the Sheriff of Nottingham [Alan Rickman], but the race tightened about halfway through, and the Sheriff was able to pull through a stunning last-minute victory. Despite his brutal focus and discipline and grim sense of humor, Uglúk [Nathaniel Lees] suffered a crushing defeat under the cloven hoof of a greater and sexier evil, Darkness [Tim Curry]. The Sons of Denethor, Boromir [Sean Bean] and Faramir [David Wenham] truly dominated their oppositions (Alessandro Farnese [Diarmuid Noyes] and Uther Pendragon [Gabriel Byrne]) and were the only competitors to achieve margins of victory exceeding 90% in this round.
The Men of Westeros did not fare so well. Of their 14 remaining competitors only four now stand:
Lord Eddard "Ned" Stark [Sean Bean]
Ser Bronn of the Blackwater [Jerome Flynn]
Khal Drogo [Jason Momoa]
Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish [Aiden Gillen]
Ser Davos Seaworth [Liam Cunningham]
Ser Jorah Mormont [Iain Glen]
Prince Oberyn Martell [Pedro Pascal]
Ser Criston Cole [Fabien Frankel]
Lord Corlys Velaryon [Steve Toussaint]
Sandor "The Hound" Celgane [Rory McCann]
Jon Snow [Kit Harrington]
Gendry [Joe Dempsie]
Aemond Targaryen [Ewan Mitchell]
Tywin Lannister [Charles Dance]
But what of our Robins and Arthurs?
We began the Round with 3 of Each, but only one of each survived the round.
While Beowulf [Gerard Butler] bested King Arthur [Richard Harris] with a handy but respectful margin of 56.8%, Sean Connery's Arthur was unhorsed by Eomer [Karl Urban] in what can only be termed a crushing defeat, with a margin of 84.4% of the Vote. Only Bradley James's incarnation was able to defeat his opposition, Prince Henry [Dougray Scott], who, though strong contender, proved no match for Arthur's winning smile.
On the Robin side, our last Robin standing, is Cary Elwes, who defeated Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan with a tidy 70.8% margin. Richard Todd's stunningly attractive but lesser known Robin was defeated by the only remaining Son of York, Richard III [Aneurin Barnard], while the iconic Errol Flynn iteration was unhorsed (rather ironically) by one of the most appallingly unjust and underhanded aristocrats in the lists, Adhemar, Count of Anjou [Rufus Sewell]. We can neither confirm nor deny allegations made against the Count of cheating, nor the veracity of the rumours circulating that the Count's rather costly saddle was stolen from his tent at the end of the day while Adhemar was enjoying a flagon of wine with fellow victors Sir Guy of Gisbourne [Basil Rathbone], Sir Guy of Gisborne [Richard Armitage], the Sheriff of Nottingham [Alan Rickman] and His Royal Highness Prince John [Oscar Isaac].
Our third Sir Guy [Michael Wincott] did not join them, as he rather unfortunately lost his match against Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe [Anthony Andrews] and, after a rather unpleasant exchange with his cousin the Sheriff, preferred to drink in the company of a different, more polite Sheriff [Peter Cushing] (who also lost his match against the Hound [Rory McCann]) and his friend Prince Prospero [Vincent Price].)
But I am sure some of your are curious as to how the Master of Revels' list of Secret Favourites is faring. Well, I can tell you, it sustained some heavy losses this round, though a still rather healthy 34 remain in the competition. Aye, but at what cost?
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theladycarpathia · 6 months ago
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Hellcheer Anniversary Week Day Two - Friday Night Football Game
Chrissy can feel the stares on her back in the locker room. She laces up her sneakers and ignores them. A few months ago, she would have cared. Maybe it’s his influence rubbing off on her. 
In a few months, this all won’t matter. In a few hours, this all won’t matter. 
“Alright,” she says, in as steady a voice as she can manage. She’s still captain after all. “Let’s go.”
They traipse out onto the field and wait for their entrance. The bleachers are busier than Chrissy expected - their basketball team is better so those games are always packed but apparently people still love football. 
There’s a harsh whisper behind her, a sudden giggle, and Chrissy swallows. These days she has a good instinct for when the laughter is about her. 
If they knew the truth, they’d understand. But they don’t. She’s been with Jason since middle school. She’s always had that title to match her other equally perfect ones. Chrissy Cunningham. Head Cheerleader. Queen of Hawkins High. Prom Committee, Spring Fling Queen, Jason’s girl. 
Funny how without the perfect boyfriend that all of her other accolades meant nothing at all. How easily they branded her with a scarlet letter across her chest. 
Their coach signals them with her hand just as the band starts to play. Chrissy forces a bright smile onto her face and then they’re being pushed out onto the field. It almost feels too much, the bright lights, the noise, the stamping of feet on the bleachers. 
Sometimes Chrissy looks at her life and just hates it. 
There’s cheering as they bound out, shouting and waving their poms. For everyone else, this is fun, a Friday night football game. For Chrissy, it’s something meant to be endured. 
Especially as when she looks out across the crowd she sees the one face she had hoped wouldn’t be here. 
Jason’s in the stands, hands folded, looking right at her. She should have known. Even though he’s not on the team, he must have thought that this would be a place he could get her alone.
He hasn’t taken their break up quietly. He left her notes in her locker, flowers at her house. Got her mother involved, got her friends involved. Begged and pleaded for her not to throw her life away, as though that’s something he has a say in. 
He’s tried and failed during school hours. It’s easier to slip away from him, to hide behind teachers. And no matter what he says, he doesn’t dare try to talk to her near Eddie, not after last time. That had certainly ensured the entire school knew about it within a matter of days - Jason Carver and Eddie Munson fighting on school grounds over her. 
She’d had to get involved. She didn’t want Eddie to get suspended or expelled, not when they’re so close. She’s kept it all a secret - if anyone finds out that they’re leaving after graduation, her mother would have a fit. 
Jason’s smile pins her feet to the floor. He’s so sure of himself, like this is just a glitch in the eventual road to the white dress and chapel, the picket fence and modern suburbia that he has planned for them. But she’s not that girl anymore, if she ever was. 
“Can you imagine giving him up for the local freak?” someone snorts from behind her and this time there’s a louder cluster of giggles. Normally, Chrissy ignores it. Today she whirls around to face Marcy and the flicker of shock across her face is satisfaction enough. 
“Then you date him,” she snaps, grateful that the band is still too loud for anyone to hear them. “Now move!”
It goes to show how stunned they are that they all let her push them into their first routine without complaint. Chrissy just dances, letting the familiar moves wash everything away. She hates the pageantry of it all but she still loves this. Maybe she can still find a way to dance when they get to LA. 
She gets through the first dance and the second, the players arriving on the field. They have to perform at halftime and she wonders if she can just slip away after. If she gives Jason half a chance, he’ll follow her back to her car, insisting on driving home with her. And then she’ll be trapped at the dining room table, watching her mother quiz him about colleges and wanting to know why they ever broke up in the first place. 
At least she can take comfort in knowing that Jason would never tell Laura about Eddie. He’s not about to admit that his girlfriend of nearly five years left him for someone like Eddie Munson. 
They have to wait on the sidelines once the game starts and Chrissy stands as far away from Jason as possible. Not that it matters - Jason pushes himself up, like he means to climb across the seats to get to her. 
So when someone reaches out with a hand to grab her elbow she shrieks, and the sound is lost amongst the roar of the crowd. 
“Eddie!” she gasps and lets him swing her up into his arms. If the brawl in the cafeteria didn’t confirm their relationship this certainly will and she finds she truly doesn’t care. 
“A little birdie told me,” Eddie says and gently puts her down. “That there may be an unwanted guest attending the game this evening.”
Chrissy turns and sure enough, Jason is frozen in place, lip curled up in disgust as he looks at Eddie. No, looks at Eddie’s hand still wrapped around her waist. 
“You heard right,” she says and her voice wobbles a little. Eddie never even goes to pep rallies and he came to a game, just for her. 
“So this is football,” he says, looking over her head at the field. He wrinkles his nose a little at the players, the green and orange uniforms. “It’s…what I expected.”
“What was that?” she asks, leaning into his chest just a little. He smells of smoke and cinnamon, and something woodsy, like the inside of a guitar. 
“A glorified game of fetch,” he says bluntly. “I’m glad I got to see you do your thing though.” He mimes waving poms again and she stifles a laugh.
She doesn't remember laughing with Jason much.
"You coming over this evening?" Eddie asks, dropping his arms.
"Yeah," she says, because she's started spending what nights she can get away with Eddie. "If Wayne doesn't mind."
"He never minds," Eddie says easily and even though he should look out of place in his Hellfire t-shirt and boots, he really looks like he doesn't care. She wants to be like that too, unbothered by anyone else's thoughts of her. "I think he likes you better than me at times."
Chrissy ignores the almost palpable aura of hostility from her fellow cheerleaders and leans up to kiss his cheek. Everyone already knows - she may as well embrace starting her Senior year off with a little bit of scandal. Start as you mean to go on.
“A few more months,” he says, resting his cheek on her head. “Then we’re out of here.”
“Yeah,” Chrissy echoes, and the crowd suddenly roars. She must have missed the team scoring a goal. “Then we’re out.”
“You okay?” Eddie asks suddenly, tugging on the end of her ponytail. Jason appears to have slunk back to his seat. He’s clearly not willing to risk another fight, especially when Chrissy looks far from being held against her will. 
“Yeah,” Chrissy says, feeling safe for the first time all night. “I am now.”
@hellcheeranniversaryweek
Not 100% on the ending but I ran out of time. I love the 'Chrissy would have left Jason for Eddie' thing that Grace said and I want more fics about it.
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shinyboomboom · 4 days ago
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Agent Veronica Sterling
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"This is Deans Initial"
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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year ago
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SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)
CHAPTER SIX: IS IT OVER NOW?
LET'S FAST FORWARD TO THREE HUNDRED TAKEOUT COFFEES LATER, I SEE YOUR PROFILE AND YOUR SMILE ON UNSUSPECTING WAITERS.
☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, minors dni
☆ WC: 5.8K+
☆ A/N: if i could put the entirety of the lyrics to this song on here, i would. it's! their! song! (side note: these idiots need to start making progress before i tear my hair out i mean it. they make me think about jumping off of very tall somethings)
thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!
masterlist
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The coffeeshop that Eddie chooses isn’t one you’re familiar with. It’s smaller, more hidden, tucked away in an unsuspecting corner and disguised from prying eyes. 
It wouldn’t have been your first choice, but you’re sure his thought process on choosing public locations differs from yours now. One wrong move, and he’s sure to end up on the cover of another magazine. Actually, one wrong breath, and the public eye probably eats him alive. 
He’d sort of brought that upon himself, building up such a polarizing reputation all by his own hands. 
“Ever been before?” he asks as the two of you stand in line, the scent of espresso burning your nose and the hiss of steam wands cutting straight through the soft chatter of fellow patrons. 
You only shake your head. No words to ease his clear anxiety as you watch him shift his weight between his two feet and his hands dig deep into his pockets. 
“It’s pretty good,” he continues to ramble, looking up at the menu rather than you, “They’ve got decent hot coffee, and their lattes aren’t too bad. I like the vanilla one best, which is probably boring but-”
“Eddie,” you interrupt him sternly, “What happened to not talking?” 
He scoffs a little, finally turning to look at you. “We aren’t seated yet. Once we get a table, I swear, my lips are sealed.” 
You highly doubt that. 
It’s torture being this close to him for this long. The accidental bumps of his elbow against your shoulder that send you jumping from the contact. The way you nearly stepped on his foot when you’d shuffled out of the way for someone, and your apology got tangled on your tongue when he’d reached out to steady you. In small moments, when he’s too busy glancing nervously around the cafe, you spare him longer looks. Since he first came tumbling back into your life a mere week ago, you’d been staunch on your stance that he had changed beyond measure. But here, out at a coffee shop with just the two of you present along with all his nervousness, you can see glimpses of something familiar beneath the surface. The way he bites his lip, the way he fiddles with his rings, how he’s occasionally humming tunes beneath his breath as he avoids eye contact with you – you hate it. You hate every aspect of it, and all the painful nostalgia it stirs within you. 
It reminds you of your first date with him, back in Hawkins. All the confidence he’d exuded at that Halloween party you’d met him at had disappeared the moment he got you alone sober. As if he had felt the weight of what this would become from day one, as if he knew just how much of both your future’s rested in one stupid date. 
You almost get lost in the memories before it’s your turn to order at the counter. 
“Just a vanilla latte, please.” 
You can see his small smile out of the corner of your eye. A small trace of triumph is clear as day as you order the exact thing he just said was his favorite. It wasn’t intentional, but there’s no use trying to convince him of that. 
It’s just a coincidence, you try to convince yourself. It just sounded good after he brought it up. 
“I’ll have the same,” he tells the barista behind the counter, moving to pull out his wallet. 
On your first date with him, you had bickered endlessly about who would pay. And you nearly do it again – you nearly reach out a hand to stop him and insist you could pay for your own coffee on instinct. 
It would be so easy to let history repeat itself, to watch your greatest hits reinvent themselves at this moment. Maybe, this time around, the two of you can get it right. 
You don’t move a single muscle as he hands over his card. 
He murmurs out a soft thank you when it’s returned to him with a receipt, and you’re already turned to scout out a table to sit at. 
There’s plentiful booths, a few high-tops by the front windows. There’s even half booths lining one wall of the cafe. If you were out on your own, all of these choices would be perfect. You’d take a seat at any of the tables and be content, especially the high-tops that offered the perfect opportunity for people watching between work. 
You choose a table in one of the back corners. Somewhere darker, and far from everyone else in the building. Somewhere hidden. 
“Here?” he questions, hesitating behind you as you drop your bag down beside one of the chairs.
“Something wrong with this table?” you ask over your shoulder, hand gripping on the back of the chair as if it could ground you. 
“I mean… not really,” you turn and look at him over your shoulder, “It’s just kind of dark back here, and you used to like sitting by windows-”
Your throat tightens at it – the acknowledgement that he remembers. That he can recall anything from the past, of you, of your time spent together. Part of you had been convinced he’d taken a sledgehammer to the past, shattered it into something unrecognizable and abandoned it altogether. 
He hadn’t. It should have been obvious, but he hadn’t. 
“Maybe I’ve changed,” you cut in, gaze unwavering as you dare him to challenge you on the fact, “Besides, I don’t want to be distracted while I work.” 
You won’t lose this game; whatever he’s currently playing at, you can’t afford to lose. You are not the girl he remembers, and he is not the man you’ve mourned for two years. Both of you, it seems, need that reminder. 
He joins you at the shadowy table without another word. 
You take to setting up your laptop and notebook, powering up your devices as you flip back open to your pages of contacts and physical notes already taken. Your eyes refuse to find his the entire time as you log in, as you open up to that damn refusal from the latest venue, as you sigh harshly out your nose at that bitter reminder of failure. 
When they call your names for the lattes, he’s up and retrieving them without you even asking him to. 
In your short time alone at the table, you lean forward to rest your forehead on the palms of your hands. It’s exhausting – being around him, pretending like you wouldn’t have enjoyed the view out the window, facing the reality that his mess had once again become yours. Every inch of your skin prickles with the need to run. And yet you don’t. You could have told him no, easily turned down his offer for coffee. But you didn’t, so now, you’ll live with the consequences. 
“One vanilla latte,” Eddie appears, setting down that takeout cup of coffee down in front of you before he takes his seat, “I didn’t know if you’d want any extra sugars, but if you do, I can grab them-”
“Thanks,” you interrupt blandly, lifting your head from your hands as you watch him sit down his own coffee. You really, really didn’t want to hear him ramble anymore. 
Didn’t want to ponder how it’s almost as endearing as the first day you met him. Didn’t want to think about how each syllable that falls from his lips strikes something deep in you, something stained and something yearning for erasure of a past both of you can’t change now. Didn’t want to keep caving so damn easily. 
You are meant to be furious. You have every right to be; he left first, he stopped loving you first, he broke this first. You’ve had two years to gather up all your grief and all your anger, package it nicely with a bow on top, and that is what you should be handing over to him right now. Not forgiveness, not understanding. Certainly not endearment. 
Something in your chest still shudders at the sight of his wince when he tries to sip the hot latte too soon, effectively burning his lip and tongue. 
“So, you come here often?”
What the hell happened to not talking? 
It’s not him to blame – it’s you. The words tumble out embarrassingly quickly. You had a plan, why weren’t you following the plan? Get a free coffee, get a break from the office, maybe manage to have some sort of breakthrough while away from that stuffy building. You weren’t supposed to be talking to him.
And he knows it. Damn it, does he know it as his lips curl at their corners ever so slightly, “Yeah. It’s convenient, nice and close to the studio.”
Where the fuck had all his rambles disappeared to? What are you supposed to do with such a short, such a normal response? 
“Right,” you nod, acting as though the location of his studio would be common knowledge to you, “Right, no, of course. It’s good to have a convenient coffee place.” 
He leans back in his chair, nervousness misting away and some sort of confidence creeping in instead. Fuck him. 
“Do you have one around here?” 
He’s testing the waters, seeing just how much conversation you’ll allow. The threshold should be none. Zilch. A resounding absolutely not. 
“I usually stop by the Starbucks closest to my apartment.”
So much for that.
“Starbucks?” he crinkles his nose, and dear Lord, you need to look away. Save yourself the heartbreak, because those wrinkles are almost a replica map of the ones you remember back in Hawkins when he’d make faces at you across the Hideout when someone would approach him with boring conversation he wanted no part in. The same disgust, the same silent conversation between you transpiring, “I thought you were always a coffee snob. Hated that shit.” 
You had been. When he had known you, you had hated that subpar commercial coffee.
“Like I said,” you swallow hard, looking down to your keyboard, realizing the conversation needed to end, “People change.” 
Did you change, though? You still hated the taste of your morning coffee, cringed at either the burnt bitterness or overwhelming sweetness you could never find peaceful equilibrium between. A thousand different orders, a thousand different experiments, and you still had yet to find anything that satisfied your caffeine cravings. 
Kind of like how you window-shopped at the bars. How you’d look over various men that Romina pointed out, and only shake your head before picking out something wrong with them. Something that wasn’t to your usual taste, something that wasn’t him. 
You finally take a sip of your latte as Eddie nods, muttering a soft, “Guess so.”
It’s perfect. The latte isn’t too sweet, isn’t too bitter. It’s exactly what you’ve been searching for these last two years. 
“They have really good muffins,” Eddie continues on, mimicking you by taking another sip of his drink. This time, he doesn’t burn his mouth, “Cinnamon rolls, too.”
The small talk is nearly killing you. You should go silent on him, begin to work on figuring out the venue situation. But you watch the way he fiddles with the sleeves of his leather jacket and can’t help but remember the old one with safety pins holding together the sleeves. Finally, you cave outwardly. 
“What kind of venue do you want?” 
It’s not small talk, but it’s not personal talk. It’s just you swallowing your pride, and shocking yourself by reaching out for the help everyone has pestered you with offering the last week. 
“What?” Eddie’s eyes widen, no longer rubbing the fabric between his fingertips.
“The venue for the party,” you elaborate, “What are you looking for in it? Small? Big? Private? Rooftop? I’ve tried asking Matt, and he’s given me nothing to work off of.”
Eddie slowly lifts his hands to lay on the tabletop, watching you with such careful eyes that you can see all the lack of trust in them. “Does it… matter?” 
You scoff, and before your brain or heart can warn you against it, you’re scooting your chair around the table to be closer to Eddie. You pull your laptop along with you, shifting it so that both of you can see the screen as you bring up your list of options. A colorful spreadsheet: rejections highlighted in a muted red, the ones you haven’t heard back from highlighted in soft orange, the ones you’re unsure of and haven’t even sent out queries regarding highlighted in a nearly transparent yellow. 
Only one is highlighted in a pastel green. The one with a rooftop option, as well as several downstairs rooms. The one you thought seemed the most like Eddie.
“Yes, it matters a fuck ton,” you explain, pointing at a random line as his eyes dart about your impressive display, “The ones in red are ones that already rejected me, but most are larger venues you’ve played in the past. By the way, why have you destroyed so many green rooms?”
“I get bored,” he flatly replies, leaning in with squinted eyes, “What does that yellow mean?”
“Those are ones I’m unsure about. Either too big, too small, or too exclusive.”
“And orange?”
“I sent out an email, and haven’t heard back.”
“And…” he pauses as he reaches that venue, “And green? Why’s there only one green?” 
It occurs to you he’s the first person to not turn their nose up at your extensive organization. Everyone else had thought it was stupid, wasteful, to spend so much time on the spreadsheet. No one had asked you to explain the color system before, usually hardly glancing at the screen before brushing you off. 
No one had even questioned the green line yet. 
“Green is the one I think…” you trail off, unsure of why you’re so afraid to admit the meaning. You sort of feel foolish; that terrible imposter syndrome managing to creep up on you as you doubt your judgment, “It’s the one I think might be the best fit. It probably isn’t, I don’t know. Honestly, I can take it off the list-”
“Show me the venue.” 
“I really don’t-”
He interrupts you by saying your name sternly, looking away from the screen to glance at you with raised eyebrows, “Just show me. It can’t be any worse than…” he looks back over the list, letting out a snort, “Jesus, Webster Hall? Yeah, they’re not letting us come back any time soon.” 
“What did you do to them?” you ask, too curious for your own good. Most of the venues wouldn’t divulge the messy details, only staunchly say no and promise they had their reasons once you mentioned Corroded Coffin.
“I’ll tell you if you show me the green venue.”
He knows he’s won when you finally click onto the still open tabs. You’d opened the hyperlink for every single different room, ranging from the large main one to the petty small one on a rooftop. You start with the largest room, and Eddie eagerly drinks in the details on the page.
He whistles softly, only loud enough for you to hear, “Quite the venue.”
“This is just the first room.”
He looks at you, clearly shocked, subtly nodding for you to click through the rest of the tabs. His reaction is fairly consistent as you show each new room, new capacity, new option. You can see the way his face lights up – you had been right.
Your judgment was correct. You hadn’t been an idiot, shouldn’t have doubted yourself. It almost makes you feel as if there’s still a chance that you still know him. Somewhere deep down, beneath your layers of stained armor and his layers of reckless defenses, you still know him. 
“It’s… good,” he says softly after reading over that final tab you had opened, “Like, really good.”
You exhale in relief, “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” he leans back in his chair, “I don’t think we’ve ever played that venue before, either, so… no wrecked green room to hold over my head.”
You should stay on track and focus; you are making progress. After a week of hopelessness, you were finally not feeling like an absolute failure. Better to keep the train moving forward than to halt right now. 
And yet, your mind picks up on that green room comment again, and you can’t help it – all your focus flies out the window. 
“Why do you fuck up all those green rooms? And don’t just say you were bored,” you ask, curling your hands around your still warm cup of coffee, “I mean, I get it – the rockstar image or whatever – but isn’t it… isn’t it more trouble than it’s worth when it comes to scheduling tours?” 
He shakes his head softly, curls tumbling over tense shoulders, “Definitely not for the rockstar image.” 
“Then why?” you turn your head, ignore the screen, focus on him. On his scruff and the bags under his eyes, on the cracks in his chapped lips. 
On that distinct look overtaking his face that says you overstepped.
“Forget it,” you weakly say, taking back your words to the best of your abilities without being able to pull them back onto your tongue, tuck them back into that box of anger and grief, and curiosity now, apparently. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. Either way, it’s good that these guys have nothing against you, right?” 
“They still might,” Eddie shrugs, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth, “Word travels fast between venues.” 
He says it so sadly, it’s hard to think of a proper response. You know he brought it upon himself. There’s no room for sympathy at this table, in this cafe. 
But it still only adds to your motivation to do this job, and do it well. A parting gift to Eddie; a way to silently swallow the pride leftover from a messy breakup, and apologize for the way you’d left without a trace. Right then and right there, you decide that’s what this has to become. For your peace of mind, and possibly for his. 
“You want a rooftop,” you don’t phrase it as a question, but as a statement as you yank your laptop closer to you, fingers flying over the keyboard, “A rooftop with a nice view, that’s what your email said.”
“I mean, that’d be nice-”
“You all want an open bar,” you add, continuing to type loudly enough a few people glance back towards the dark corner. You pay them no mind, your determination taking over, “And it needs to be smaller than your normal shows according to Matt. That doesn’t mean we have to limit venues by capacity – we could just limit ticket sales.” 
Eddie’s mouth falls open ever so slightly, watching you in awe as you start a new document. Making a checklist of just what was possible. No more spreadsheets littered with reminders of rejections, of what you weren’t sure you could get for the band. It would be nice to have a list of the venues you couldn’t contact now, but there was no need to let their names glare at you every time you reviewed your plans. 
“We need a top three for venues. What are your top three?”
You finally pause your clacking to look at him. Still stunned, still under the spell of watching you come to life. 
It used to be this way back in Hawkins, too. Whenever you took over on a school project, or a new gig for Corroded Coffin. You could do this. You would do this.
“I don’t-” Eddie starts, before taking a deep breath, “The only venues I really know by name are the ones I can’t perform at. The ones that banned me.”
“Awesome,” he shrinks back a little at that, almost in disbelief, but it was awesome. Not that he’d gotten banned, but that you had somewhere to start, “Send me that list. Type it up on your phone right now, and send it.”
“To your email?” he questions, already doing as you’d commanded of him. 
You consider it. Your email was already overflowing with work related notions, and brimming with those goddamn rejections you had yet to delete and move past. 
Personal email was out of the question. You only checked it for coupons from your favorite online shops and notifications from your mother’s Facebook. 
You snatch his phone out of his palm, and don’t look up at him until you navigate to the contacts app, hit the small plus sign, type in the magic number that you don’t check to see if he actually deleted two years ago. You just assume he did.
Your number. 
“Text it to me,” you instruct him as you pass the phone back. His hand still hovers where it’d been when you’d taken the cell phone, as if he’s frozen. “Now, please.” 
You don’t care if it’s stupid to do, it’s necessary. He’ll probably just delete it once you finish this final favor, this final gift to him to send him off and out of your life for good. 
“O-Okay,” he stutters, and not even a minute later, your phone buzzes with a text. 
You flip it over, keep it angled so Eddie can’t see the screen. 
New text from ROCKSTAR ♡ !
He may have deleted your contact, but you’d never deleted his. 
You’d tried to, make no mistake. Spent plenty of late hours staring at that haunted number, even tried to backspace it away a few times. But every time your thumb would hover over the delete button, your hands would shake and knuckles would ache. Every time you’d manage to fully backspace the number away, it was no use; you still knew it by heart, still retyped it and saved it as if nothing had ever changed. There had been a short week of having his number blocked, but you’d given up, unblocked it then sometimes still sat and waited for another round of calls from him begging for a chance to just talk. 
You always seemed to have one foot in the door, one foot out with Eddie. Always stained, never cleaned of him. 
It didn’t matter. After these next three months, you’d delete it. You told yourself you would, for real this time. You’d erase him, properly let him go until you forgot the sound of his voice and couldn’t even recall the first three digits of his phone number. You would. You had to. 
You flip the phone back over and face it down on the table, looking up at him, forcing a polite smile. It kills you – it startles him. 
“Alright, Mr. Rescue Party. Shall we begin?”
You never return to the office. 
Hours later, when the sun was setting and the table was littered with empty coffee cups bought by Eddie to continue to fuel the two of you, you receive an email from Lydia. 
Leaving and locking up the office now. Hope the meeting with your client went well. See you tomorrow. 
You blink rapidly at the message, hardly being able to process the time. It was nearly seven. 
“Okay, so, that venue was a no-go,” Eddie says as he approaches the table again, finally stepping back inside from calling your green venue. The two of you had decided it was time to stop sending off emails that could be easily ignored – you were tracking down numbers and calling them directly, now. Forcing them to give an answer then and there rather than putting you off for weeks, “I was right about word traveling between those assholes- What’s wrong?” 
He stops just before he pulls out his chair, leaning down with his forearms pressed into the back of the seat when he notices your expression of shock. 
It had been easy, too easy, to waste away the hours with Eddie. And, sure, the main distraction had been planning and putting everything into action. Eddie had narrowed down his top three venues, you had found a few businesses that would service an open bar and had begun to gather quotes. But it hadn’t all been business. 
Small things had slipped in. A short conversation had been had about the best bars in town when you’d begun that side quest, Eddie admitting which bars in town let him frequent them while offering the most privacy (not many, unsurprisingly) and you’d listed a few of the clubs your coworkers liked to frequent. No overlap to be found. But then, there had been the joking after Eddie called one of his other top three venues and put them on speaker, allowing you to hear the way the owner chewed Eddie out for the time he’d caused chaos at a show that wasn’t even his own. The moment the owner hung up, Eddie had made a face, somewhere between embarrassment and irritation, until you’d finally spoken up and mocked one of the last things the owner had said before the dial tone.
“Don’t you ever call here again,” you’d jokingly mimicked in a deep and comical voice, wagging a finger in Eddie’s direction in fake scolding. 
It hadn’t even been that funny. But the two of you had still descended into giggles like two children, until tears pricked the corners of your eyes and your stomach ached just a little bit. 
Small moments. Small exchanges. Things that were personal, things you wouldn’t have done with a normal client. Things that had a full day slipping away from you quietly in the darkest corner of a coffee shop you never even knew existed mere blocks from your work. 
“It’s seven, Eddie,” you tell him as if he should be just as taken back. He hardly blinks an eye, “We’ve been here seven hours.”
“And?” the creases between his brows finally smooth, standing back up straight, “We’ve been getting shit done, and we’ve been paying customers the entire time. I don’t see the issue.” 
The issue is the way you made work not feel like work. 
The issue was the cycle you had been fearing, avoiding, and falling victim to ever since he’d been waiting for you in that conference room that very first day. Every time Eddie would inch back into your vision, whether right before you as he was now or in the form of emails you’d find yourself reading over before bed, you were forgetting the anger. It kept feeling like a time machine, sending you right back to that very first night. Before the fame, before the hurt.
You have no idea how you’ll manage to keep this to just a parting gift. 
“I just…” your words fall short, because he’s technically right, “I didn’t realize we’d been here that long.” 
Eddie takes his seat with a nonchalant shrug, “Easy to lose track of time when you’re actually getting shit done,” he stops, blanches at his words as he stares at you as if he thinks he’s just insulted you, “Wait, I- No, I just mean- I don’t mean you weren’t getting things done before. I swear.”
You’re not offended in the slightest, “I know. But to be fair, I really wasn’t. I’m sorry for doubting how helpful you’d be when you showed up earlier today.” 
“Don’t do that.”
“What? Apologize?”
“No, discredit yourself,” he stresses. And you hadn’t noticed it, but your two chairs had seemingly grown closer over the hours as his knee bumps your thigh, “You… I’m not an easy client. You were handed a shit deal, plus Matt really wasn’t giving you anything to work with. I wasn’t giving you anything to work with.” 
“I’m working for the entire band,” you remind him, remind yourself. 
All it does is remind you of even more people you miss. Gareth, who was the little brother you never had back in Hawkins. Jeff, who had been one of your closest confidants. Craig, who would’ve answered your phone calls even in the dead of night. All friends you gave up when you walked out on Eddie. You always forget that – you didn’t just leave behind one person, you left behind an entire life.
Eddie’s phone buzzes, and he makes no move to grab it, “Have they been helpful?”
You stare at the phone, waiting for him to reach out. He doesn’t.
“Sort of.”
Another buzz. Another unanswered message Eddie clearly has no interest in responding to. 
“Sort of? What did they ask for in their lists?”
Another buzz. Finally, you break free of whatever conversation Eddie’s trying to have, and lean forward to grab his phone and pass it to him, “You need to check that. What if it’s Matt?”
Eddie doesn’t glance at the phone, only crosses his arms, effectively tucking the phone out of your sight as well, “He can wait. What did the other guys ask for?”
You can hear the next buzz, more muffled against his t-shirt and beneath his jacket.
“Eddie.”
“Sugar.”
He knows the nickname is a weapon against you. He uses it more deliberately this time, not letting it just slip out as it had at the office. 
“Open bar, fuzzy robes, normal things,” you finally spit out, trying to not let the echo of him calling you that name to worm into your brain and begin to rot you away, “Now, check your phone. Please.” 
This time, when the phone buzzes, Eddie removes it from being trapped beneath his armpit and actually looks at the screen. You know immediately you were right; his face falls as he reads over the missed messages, all his teasing fading and that air of light-hearted arrogance being sucked out of the space between you two. 
You don’t need to ask, but you do anyways, “Rockstar duty calls?”
He looks up rapidly, mouth already forming the word no, but you shake your head to stop his lie. 
It’s fine. It’s entirely acceptable that other people need his attention, that he has other affairs to tend to. You had gotten used to it when the two of you were dating and he first made his big break, you shouldn’t expect a change now when you were nothing more than a stranger working for him. It shouldn’t sting, and you shouldn’t feel a small fraction of you hopeful that he’ll be defiant and insist on ignoring those duties.
Today was only ever meant to be one cup of coffee. The fact that you two had lost track, fumbled and turned one cup into four, was only a blip. 
“I get it,” you say, sinking back into your chair. And you did, you really did. It was easier now to understand than it was back then, back when this very type of situation started the domino effect that was the beginning of the end, “You should go if they need you. You are a rockstar, after all.” 
It’s a hard sentiment to say without a trace of bitterness, but you manage. He’s a rockstar. All his hopes, all his dreams, have finally come true. He gets to breathe, he gets to be rowdy, he gets to hear crowds scream back all those lyrics you’d watched him write in his bedroom back in Hawkins. He got everything he wished for. 
You should be happy for him. If this arrangement is going to work, you have to be happy for him. 
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks you as he shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans, standing and beginning to gather empty coffee cups.
“Work,” you shrug, crossing your arms as you glare at the laptop, already feeling preemptive frustration at the thought of picking up where you’ve left off today, alone. 
It’s not just because you want Eddie to join you on the project. It’s not Eddie’s help that you specifically want. It’s just nice to have someone to help shoulder the load with you, right? 
“At the office?”
“That’s where I usually work, yes.”
“Come to my place instead.”
Time almost freezes. He’s standing there, nearly all of the empty latte cups balanced in his arms, and looking at you as if he hadn’t just asked the most insane possible thing of you. 
“Eddie,” you speak softly, carefully, as your arms drop from your chest, “I don’t think that Lydia would be okay with that-”
“I’m a client,” he points out, “Besides, you’ve been stressed about this project, and I like to think I helped with that today.”
He did. God, he did.
“Just think about it,” he’s nearly begging. Beneath the lowlights of this cafe, features dancing with the reflection of some Christmas lights pinned up to line the top of the wall as they cast an aesthetic glow of gold over the surroundings, Eddie Munson is begging for your time, “You have my number. Think it over tonight, and just text me if you decide you want to. I can send over my address.” 
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Probably not,” at least he’s being honest. But quickly, it becomes apparent he’s misinterpreted you as he continues on, “You’re probably going to get photographed by paparazzi when you show up if you’re not careful, and if they figure out you’re there to see me, you’ll probably end up on the cover of some lowlife magazine-”
“That’s not the part I’m concerned with,” you lament, finally choosing to stand now. The last thing on your mind is publicity, or cameras, or magazines, “I mean, I don’t think it’s a good idea to make this,” you motion your arms between the two of you, “A habit.”
His face falls ever so slightly. A soft drop of his eyebrows, a gentle pinch of his lips. You swear, you watch him nearly drop one of the coffee cups before he regains composure, “It won’t be. It’s… It’s just work, yeah?” 
Just work. Just a project. Just one final parting gift. This is nothing more than a source of closure for the two of you, a slamming of the door on that chapter of your life where the boy standing before you was your end-all, be-all. He’s right – it’s just work. 
Your voice hardly comes out a whisper, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’ll think about it,” it takes everything in you to level your words, to keep them from shaking, “I’ll ask Lydia, and I’ll let you know.” 
A slow smile spreads across his face, and you can’t ignore the way it puts the glimmering lights on the ceiling to shame. No shade of gold, no twinkling reflection on the windows overlooking the busy street, can compare to the knife his hopeful smile strikes in you. It’s the type of smile that aches, that resonates, that haunts.
It’s the kind of smile that tells you you’re going to bleed for this, no matter how much you resist. 
“Cool,” he nods, finally taking a few steps back, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, maybe?”
The kind of smile that tells you the bloodstain is never going to wash out, whether this is all just for work or not.
“See you tomorrow, Eddie.” 
The idea of closure is about as tangible as smoke and mirrors as he leaves you alone in the dark corner of the coffee shop. It almost hurts as much as it did the first time he walked out to be a rockstar.
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @@loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious
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hellfirexwhore · 2 years ago
Text
Forget What You've Heard E.M.
Line cook!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader
Sorry it took so long between posts! I've been working all day every day so it's busy over here. I hope you enjoy! 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied / posted as original work on any platform.
Your favorite co-worker's flirty nature is your favorite part of the workday, but is it genuine? Someone is feeding you lies just as your patrons are being fed mozzarella sticks and Eddie is determined to convince you he's not just playing games with your heart.
Misunderstanding, hurt/comfort, fluff, cursing, an asshole named Dylan (We all know one), use of Y/N
Wordcount 4.7k
You smile to yourself as you count up the tips you've made so far. Bartending has done wonders for your wallet, and it's totally worth it if you can look over the long hours on your feet, creeps trying to get into your pants, and going home smelling like sour mix and sweat. You just moved to Hawkins 6 months ago and since living on your own is expensive, you serve beers and shake cocktails at the karaoke bar downtown to make a living. It's easy work and you're good at it, but there's just one issue; your favorite co-worker is a huge distraction. Eddie is the cutest damn line cook you've ever seen with his curly hair always tied into a low bun and his smile that you're sure could cure a number of diseases, but those things don't make it easy to do your job efficiently. It's nearly impossible to grab a platter of nachos from the window without him throwing out a wink and calling you sweetheart, telling you you're doing a good job, or even sliding a basket of fries to you with a finger to his lips as a way of saying "Don't tell on me, honey." 
Tonight is no different. Eddie has been a total menace all night, flashing you that flirty smile, keeping you from your work with his corny pick-up lines that he insists will get him a date with you one day, making conversation, and giving you extra sides of ranch without making you ring them in first like the kitchen manager does. The second you walked into the back to set your bag down after arriving, he told you your hair looked absolutely ravishing even though it's just thrown into a clip like always, making you blush like crazy. It took nearly 20 minutes to get the scarlet red tint to leave your cheeks, and though you tried your hardest to hide it, Eddie sure as hell noticed, leaving a smile on his face throughout the busy evening.
"Hey sweetheart, I've got those wings for the bar top ready for you." You hear from behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You smile to yourself at the nickname and put the glass you've just finished washing upside down on the drying mat. 
You turn around to an always grinning Eddie leaning his elbows on the stainless steel of the mini counter under the window to the back of house and holding the ticket in between his index and middle digits. You take the slip of paper out of his hand slowly, letting your fingers touch for a moment before stabbing it through the small metal spike to your right. Every once in a while, you like to indulge in his flirtatiousness, though it makes you nervous. Eddie's fun, he's nice, and dishing back what he gives to you every day isn't hurting anyone. "Thank you, Eddie."
"Any time, sugar." He replies, winking and turning to grab a new ticket and drop an order of potato skins in the fryer. You shake your head, smiling from ear to ear, turning to serve the hot plate to one of your regulars. 
The rest of the shift goes great. Your tips are higher than you had planned, nobody had to be thrown out for fighting, and you got to hear a wonderful rendition of "My Heart Will Go On" sang by a very intoxicated older gentleman during the karaoke session. As you clean up the bar for the night, as always, you can't stop thinking about Eddie. You think tonight might actually be the night you ask him to hang out with you outside of work, though he's invited you to go get some late night pizza before, playfully pouting when you have to decline, telling him that you're exhausted and have to go back to the bar to open the next day. You've wanted to say yes, but Eddie makes you nervous. You're feeling bold tonight though, and you're optimistic. 
Unbeknownst to you, Eddie is in the kitchen cleaning the fryers, taking out the trash, and scrubbing the floors absentmindedly, almost like he's in auto-pilot because he can't get you out of his head. He wants so badly to ask you out, but he's tried that and you don't seem interested. He realizes you probably just flirt with him for fun, a harmless workplace friendship with some winks and pet names sprinkled in, but over the past four months, he's developed a serious crush on you. 
There's just something about you that makes you so different from everyone he's ever dated or been interested in. He doesn't feel like he has to change who he is for you. There's nothing better for Eddie's ego than how easy it is to make you smile, and goddammit what a beautiful smile it is. Every time you look at him through your lashes, blushing at something stupid he's said, Eddie feels like he could lift the entire building up with one hand and not even break a sweat. He fears he's in too deep at this point, the innocent flirting leading to him finding himself thinking about you even once he's gone home for the night. 
"Hey Eddie boy, I think you missed a spot." Eddie rolls his eyes at the irritating voice coming at him from his left. Dylan is one of the most insufferable people he's ever met and of course, he has the honor of working beside him at least 3 nights out of the week. 
Eddie doesn't turn his attention to Dylan, just continues wiping down the steel counter top. "Bite me, jackass." 
"Wow, someone's sassy today, huh? What, you didn't get enough attention from your little bartender tonight?" He smarmily replies, a disgustingly annoying grin on his face. Dylan, to Eddie's dismay, has picked up on the little "situation" between you two, making a joke of it every chance he can in an attempt to piss him off. 
Eddie laughs humorlessly, throwing his rag down and turning to the bane of his existence, crossing his arms over his chest. "Dude shut the fuck up."
"Hey look man, I get it! I'm just saying it's embarrassing watching you stare at her like a fucking creep all day. She does look pretty smokin' in those jeans though, so I don't blame you. Hey maybe I'll ask her out tonight, see if I can get some tail. Think she'll give up the goods?" He's smirking while Eddie's blood is raising in temperature. He can practically feel smoke coming out of his ears hearing this sorry excuse for a man speaking about you like you're just a piece of ass and not the sweet, funny, beautiful person you are. 
"I swear to God, I'll bust your teeth in." Eddie seethes, trying to keep his cool, at least while you're in the building. You're blissfully unaware of their hatred for one another and the last thing he needs is for you to see him throwing his fist into Dylan's face for talking about you. That wouldn't be very "innocent flirtationship" of him. 
"Guys! Come on, finish cleaning and knock it off. I don't have the energy for your cat fights tonight." The kitchen manager huffs, stepping between the two of them with a severely annoyed look on his face. Wordlessly, Eddie takes one more look at Dylan, picks his rag back up, and continues his task of degreasing all of the surfaces. He wants to get it over with and be able to clock in time to catch you before you leave and walk you to your car.
Dylan, the vindictive man he is, takes the opportunity to make his way through the swinging kitchen door and into the main bar area while Eddie isn't paying attention. You look up, expecting to find Eddie standing there, but confused when it's the guy you barely speak to heading in your direction.
"Hey Y/N, you do good tonight?" He asks, leaning against the bar. You smile politely, still wrist deep in soapy water from washing the bar glasses and beer mugs. 
"Yeah, better than I expected actually. Did you need something?" You ask, not rudely, but assuming he came for something specific seeing as he's never made small talk with you before.
Dylan takes a breath and rests his elbows on the hard wood of the bar top, shaking his head like he's trying to think of how to tell you what he sauntered up to you for. You begin to dry your hands, getting a little nervous thinking that maybe the manager had sent him up here to tell you something you've done wrong. You're still relatively new and you've never gotten in trouble here before, but you can't think of anything else he would need to say to you. "Look, I know you and Munson are friends, and I see the way you look at him. You like him, and before you deny it, just listen to me." 
Your heart starts to race. Did he tell Eddie? Did Eddie say something to him? How are you going to face him when apparently other people are picking up on this? Are you this obvious? You can't take it anymore so you nod, waiting for more information as you toy with your hands. 
"You seem sweet, okay and I don't want to see someone like you hurt by someone like him. Eddie and I are cool, but this is what he does. he flirts with the new ones, takes them home, and never speaks to them again. When another newbie comes in, he starts it all over again. I just thought you should know since I'm sure you're a genuinely nice person and I'm certain Eddie is taking advantage of that." Your heart drops at his words. You feared you were being played with, but you didn't want to believe it. You fell for Eddie's charms, and now it's time to face the harsh reality that you had completely misunderstood this whole situation and made yourself look like an idiot in front of everyone. 
"Um, wow. Well thanks for telling me, I appreciate it. I'm gonna finish up here and head out. Have a good rest of your night." You say, rushing through so you don't tear up mid-sentence. Dylan nods, not saying another word but offering a sympathetic smile before turning on his heel and going back through the door he came. You pull the plug to the dish sink, gather your signed receipts to shove into the drawer, and give the glazed wood one last wipe down. You hear Eddie say your name through the window but you act like you can't hear him. 
This whole thing could have been avoided if you wouldn't have fallen for the good looks and quirks of the fuzzy-headed, wild-eyed line cook. You never should have caught feelings in the workplace; that's like rule number 001 in the service industry. Never, under any circumstances, canoodle with your co-workers. You thought maybe this was an exception but now here you are, proven wrong. 
Heading through the swinging door to the kitchen, you avoid eye contact with everyone, especially Eddie, as you walk straight to the back to gather your things. You feel humiliated and giving Eddie the satisfaction of seeing you upset is out of the question so the sooner you can get out of the building, the better. You give quiet goodbyes to the managers and make a quick escape, or you at least try to before a hand reaches out to hold your forearm. 
"Hey, wait for me. I'll walk you to your car." Eddie says softly, giving you a soft smile. You can't bear to look him in the eyes, so you gently pull away, shaking your head. 
"It's fine Eddie, thanks though." You reply, turning to finally leave. Eddie watches as you throw your bag strap onto your shoulder and hurriedly make your way to the exit. Hurt washes over him and he's more confused than when he learned what a tampon is in middle school. He furrows his brow and slumps his shoulders, going back to his final task before he can leave for the night. He doubts you're still going to be in the parking lot by the time he can get out there, but his heart is racing like he might have a shot at catching you before you leave. 
Did he say something? Did his flirting finally make you uncomfortable tonight? He racks his brain trying to come up with some sort of reason why you would be upset with him. Normally, he would suggest that maybe you're just tired but even when you're on the verge of falling asleep where you stand, you can still manage to give him a sleepy smile and a breathy laugh at another one of his terrible jokes. Maybe he took it too far. Maybe he weirded you out or gave you the wrong idea. It wouldn't be the first time he's scared someone off.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You continue to go to work as normal, doing your best to not entertain anything Eddie had to say. The more distance you can create between the two of you, the less likely you'll get hurt. The time for stepping away from him to protect your feelings ended long ago but now it's time to do some damage control before you get worse. You get attached to people, and unfortunately that includes the bad people too. 
You thought long and hard about whether or not you actually believed Dylan. I mean it's his first time actually talking to you and he breaks the news to you that Eddie just wanted to get into your pants? Why would he care? After going back and forth with yourself over it for your entire day off, you don't know what to think but what you do know is that if they really are friends and if Dylan actually does care, then the safe bet is to just stay away. If he's telling the truth and you ignore that to continue growing your feelings for Eddie, you're in for a world of hurt and that's just not something you can deal with right now. 
You're not mean to Eddie when you work now; you just treat him like everyone else. You say "please" and "thank you", you ring in your extra sauces when you need them, you greet him just like you greet every other cook, and you don't flirt or bat your lashes at him anymore. Eventually, he is going to ask why but until he does, you can't bring yourself to ask him about it. It's humiliating and if he does have bad intentions, he's not going to be honest about it anyway so what's the point in starting that conversation? 
Eddie is trying everything. These past few days have been hell for him and he's grasping at straws. He offers to make you fries, you tell him, "Thank you, but I'm not hungry." He tries to ask you about your day, you apologize and say you're busy. He tries to catch you before you leave at night, but you practically sprint for the door the second you're finished with your side work. 
He watches through the window as you smile at your last patron of the night, desperately wishing that smile was for him. You haven't paid him any mind in 3 days and it's driving him crazy. It might be a little better if he actually knew what he did, but he's completely clueless. The awkward interactions are eating away at Eddie, and he knows if he doesn't say something soon, he'll explode. He starts his cleaning and breaking down the line as quickly as possible in an attempt to finish before you do so you don't run away from him again like you have been. If he doesn't get this straightened out, he doesn't know what he'll do. 
Your last tab is cashed out and you begin your cleaning, causing Eddie to pick up his pace. He knows it'll take you 20 minutes max now that you and him aren't chatting throughout to slow you down. As long as nobody gets in his way, he's determined to finally be able to talk to you tonight. Not playful banter, no pick up lines, just a real conversation. The sooner he gets back into your good graces, the better. 
"Trouble in paradise?" Eddie turns to see Dylan smirking with his arms across his chest. So much for nobody getting in his way. 
Eddie laughs humorlessly and goes back to his work. "Fuck off, dude." 
"Look man I'm just saying it seems like there's a little riff between the lovebirds lately. I wonder what happened, hm?" Dylan replies, his tone condescending as ever, doing his best to get a rise out of Eddie. To his dismay, it's working. 
"You don't know shit." Eddie mumbles, wringing out a sanitizer rag, his fingers already becoming little prunes extended from his hands from the extensive cleaning. 
"I don't know about that one, Ed. We had a really riveting conversation, seriously it was interesting, and I'm sure I know a little more than you think." This stops Eddie in his tracks. He breathes hard through his nose and turns on his heel, grabbing Dylan by his shirt and shoving him against the wall. 
"What the fuck did you say to her? Huh? Are you the reason she won't fucking talk to me? What the hell is wrong with you, you jealous son of a bitch?!" Eddie shouts. The manager on duty is already trying to break the two of them up and you hear the commotion from the front, peering your head into the window to see what the hell is going on. 
"Ooh Munson is mad! I just told her exactly what you're up to, that's all." Dylan says, calm as ever, a disgusting smile on his face. "Punching me won't undo it, so go ahead." 
"Enough! I swear to god, I will kick you both out." Eddie reluctantly loosens his grip on the boy's clothing, only pulling away completely when he's certain the risk of getting fired isn't worth hitting Dylan, even though the want to is overwhelming. 
 Eddie looks to you, his heart breaking at the disappointed look on your face. He decides this ends now. He has no idea what filth and lies have been planted in your head, but he needs to fix it and fast. He gives one last scowl to the man he was just threatening, and backs up, walking out of the kitchen door. 
He approaches the bar and you freeze. You don't know what you're supposed to say or do, so you do and say nothing. He has a soft look on his face, one very different than the one he was wearing in the kitchen just a minute prior. It's almost as if his rock hard persona turns to cotton candy when he's in your presence, and if you ask Eddie, that's exactly how that works. 
"Look, I know you don't want to talk to me and I'm still not entirely sure why, but please wait for me. Please talk to me, let me figure out what the hell happened, and let me fix it." He pleads. You think it over quickly, trying to figure out of this is something you even want to get into right now. You question his motives, still confused as ever. Helpless, you nod and see the relief wash over his entire body, giving you the same feeling as when you're in the middle of a horrific thunderstorm, and in an instant, the sun comes out of the dark clouds. Whether this conversation leaves you feeling like a sunny summer day or it leads to another crack of thunder, you're unsure but you have half an hour before you find out. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You sit there at the bar having finished your closing work, waiting for Eddie to finish his. Against your better judgement, you're happy to talk to him again but nothing can stop the knot in your stomach from growing tighter. All you wanted to do today was make some money, go home, cook dinner, take a bath, and watch a movie in bed but now, you're sitting here, anxiety building up in your body like a tower of mix-matched Lego pieces. 
You're taken out of your thoughts when Eddie exits the kitchen and walks toward you, not looking any less nervous than he did earlier in the evening. "Hey, sorry I took so long." 
"It's okay." You say quietly, standing up from the bar stool and pulling the strap of your backpack up onto your shoulder. "Do you want to talk outside?" 
Eddie nods, giving you a tight smile. He leads you out of the front door and around to the side of the building to the employee parking lot, not saying a word just yet. the silence is broken by the flick of your lighter, illuminating the tip of a cigarette freshly placed in your mouth, inhaling the smoke and feeling the tiniest amount of tension wash away. 
You lean against your car waiting for him to speak, still not really sure what you're supposed to say. He's the one that needed to defend himself, he's the one who wanted this conversation to happen. 
"Look, I don't know what Dylan told you but I can assure you it was a lie." He starts. He's fidgeting with his fingers, avoiding eye contact. He's lost every ounce of confidence he once had when he's on the other side of the wall passing you a basket of chicken tenders. 
"If you don't know what he said, then how would you know that?" You reply, taking another drag of your cigarette. You're hoping he's being genuine and not just defensive right off the bat, but if someone is lying about you, you'd feel defensive too. Everything is still fuzzy and figuring out this mess is like putting the pieces of a clear puzzle together.
"Because he fucking hates me. He does shit just to piss me off." Eddie shakes his head, pulling his own pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting one between his lush lips. 
"Why would he hate you, Eddie? What did you do?" You don't mean to point blame at him but he had to have done something to make someone hate him to the point of making up a lie to make you ignore him for days.
"When I first started, he thought I was flirting with this girl he had a thing for, and she got a crush on me. She didn't want to hang out with him anymore and he thought I just swooped in and stole her. I didn't even like her like that but since then, he's made it his job to make my life a living hell when he's here. That includes fucking this-" Eddie gestures his hand between the both of you, "-up for me." 
"He told me you're fucking with me." You say, suddenly fixing your eyes on your sneakers. You almost shudder thinking back at the way your heart dropped to your stomach when Dylan first spoke to you. "Said you flirt with the new ones to get into their pants and then move on to the next one." 
Eddie's eyes widen, looking like he's a child being told Santa isn't real. The genuine look of shock is very convincing, and you're close to dropping every allegation from that expression alone. "Jesus Christ. Y/N, I promise that's not what's going on here." 
"How can I know that for sure? I felt like an idiot after he told me that. I was humiliated thinking I fell for some sleazy game you were playing." You're trying not to tear up. You can feel the thickness in your throat as you speak, hoping Eddie doesn't pick up on it. Six months of growing feelings for someone isn't something to fuck around about, and you might have taken this more seriously than it was intended, but when you're in that close of proximity with someone for that long, itching for the other to make a move, it's hard to not be heartbroken when something happens to it. 
"Sweetheart, I flirt with you because I like you. At first, it was just fun and I thought you were cute, but now I have a big, fat, stupid crush on you and I think about you all the time. I don't ask you to hang out with me after work so I can take you to my van and get your clothes off. I ask you to hang out with me because I like the way you make me feel." Eddie responds, making eye contact with you finally, searching your eyes for any trace of doubt. He wants you to know how serious he is. This isn't just a fling for him, much like it never was for you. You had a feeling this could turn into something special, though it goes against everything people tell you about workplace relationships. 
"And what would that feeling be?" You inquire, not breaking the contact between his chocolate pools and your own, finding a boldness in yourself that you didn't know existed. 
"You make me feel like I'm the coolest guy in the world. You laugh at my stupid jokes, you compliment me, you're interested in what I have to say.." He trails off with a fond smile on his face. There's a softness about him that balances out the roughness of his edges, endearing you even further. He reaches out to grab your soft hand with his rough one. "I really fucking like you." 
"I really like you too. I was going to ask you out the night Dylan dropped a bomb on me." You admit, rubbing your thumb over the skin of his hand. 
"That motherfucker." Eddie shakes his head, getting angry all over again at the fact that he finally had his chance and it got ruined for him in an instant. "I'm going to kick his ass." 
You pull your hand out of his and smack him lightly on the chest. "No, you can't get fired! Who will I talk to all day?"
"You've been doing just fine not talking to anyone." Eddie jokes, raising his eyebrows and bringing his cigarette to his lips, inhaling the smoke that seems to make this whole thing easier. After having a sick stomach for hours, he skipped his smoke breaks, partially leading to his angry outburst.
"Yeah and it was miserable! Do you know how much I hated having to go through my shift without hearing you call me sweetheart?" You laugh, a sound Eddie missed, even for just three days. 
He smiles down at you, dazzling as always. You missing him as much as he missed you is actively washing away his worries one by one like a salty body of water washing away a structurally questionable sandcastle. "I won't deprive you anymore." 
"I appreciate that." You grin, taking his hand back into yours. 
"Does that mean you believe me? You can ask anyone, I'm serious. I talk about you all the time. The guys make fun of me for my "heart eyes" the entire time you're here. Ask Adam, Levi, Grant, Brandon-" 
"Okay, okay." You cut off his adorable rambling. "Yes, I believe you."
Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. You can see his shoulders relax, his jaw loosen, and his posture seems straighter. "Good because I mean it. I'm sorry this was such a mess for you. Hopefully I can make up for it?"
"And how do you plan to do that, Munson?" You tease, giving him the flirty look he had been wishing to see from you again. He can't take his eyes off of the way you look at him through your thick lashes. 
He moves closer to you subtly, moving slowly so he can relish in the moment. "Can I start with that date?" 
"You sure can." You say just above a whisper. You're lost in his eyes once again, but this time, it's not just playful. There's a brand new feeling getting introduced here and it blows your mind that it was first kindled in a greasy kitchen. 
As long as Eddie is here, things are easy. You have your flirty boy back and being at work is a little easier again. With Eddie right behind you serving up winks and pet names just as often as he serves up appetizers, going home smelling like beer and deep fried cheese is worth it. 
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hiscrimsonangel · 2 years ago
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Eddie Munson- beginning of Junior year (1982-1983) Hawkins High School- Hawkins, Indiana , the vest wasn’t created yet… - Uncle Wayne busted out pictures recently and shared… I feel blessed. @emthebanished you were so cute darlin’… 😘
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melodymunson · 7 months ago
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Steve Harrington x fem reader x oc - talk dirty to me
5.1 K words
You and your college roommate and friend need to make ends meet and decide to start working for a phone sex hotline. Steve is your client and you eventually make adult films together. (Featuring mentions of Eddie Munson).
Warnings: cream pies, unprotected sex p in v (unprotected), anal sex (protected), use of a gag ball, lesbian sex, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, hand job, 69, reverse cowgirl, cum swapping/cum sharing/cum eating.
thank you for the inspiration I had while writing this and for your endless support @keeryatmosphere & @corneliuswatkins love you ladies!
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It all started when you needed money to pay for your college tuition. The going was tough these days for paying bills and making a living while also having fun. There was no time for any casual dating, let alone any serious relationship. One day your problems seemed to be over because you saw an ad in the newspaper under the adult classified section for a sex phone operator. Your close friend and college roommate, Scarlet, also needed a job. Scarlet had long, wavy black hair, a curvy figure, and brown eyes.
You couldn't imagine anyone else as a roommate because she was the nicest girl you had met at the university and she was a good person. Once she saw the ad, you both agreed to apply for it. When you discovered it was legit and not a scam; you started working the hotline. Many types of men and even women sometimes, called in to talk and get relationship advice and intimacy. Other people who called wanted something more sexy, including talk about hardcore fantasies.
You knew how to cater to their every whim and help them release their inhibitions by hearing their confessions judgment-free, of course. You had some interesting clients who were regulars. One day, the caller was someone you recognized, though. He said his name was Harrison, but you could tell by his voice it was none other than King Steve Harrington from Hawkins High.
Your younger brother Dustin Henderson was good friends with him growing up in his teenage years. Even though you were adopted, you fit right into the family. Of course, he didn't recognize you though because your voice as a phone operator was different than your regular voice.
Eventually, you came clean and admitted to Steve it was you. At first, he was a little shocked, but not for long. Having him finally know it was you made you relieved in a sense, like a weight lifted off your shoulders. The days you talked to him on the sex chat line, you helped him to get off, and it always worked.
Your sexy, sultry voice, the dirty talk, and his wandering hands as you talked to him made him want to see you and experience his fantasies with you in the real world. Stroking himself as you were talking to him dirty and seductively, you heard him spitting on his hand no doubt using it for lube since he would admit to stroking himself. You never failed to make him come undone. One of his biggest fantasies was to have a threesome with 2 women. He had already had some with men and women together only.
Being King Steve Harrington, you were surprised he had never had a threesome yet with two ladies. Sometimes, Scarlet would talk to him as well and you would alternate by using the phone telling him what you'd do to him and each other. Those phone calls made Steve cum harder than ever. You admitted one day to him why you and your roommate needed this job.
A deal formed after this and it was agreed you would have some intimate time together soon, just the three of you. So you invited Steve over and he would pay for your and Scarlet's tuition for a semester if things went according to plan and more time would be agreed upon to be spent together. The vibes had to be right and nothing forced. It would all come naturally. If that went well, then you would do some adult films together. Once you discovered Steve was an adult star with another name, of course, you were pleasantly surprised.
Soon you went out to dinner together. Nothing that fancy, but it was pretty casual. The dinner was fairly nice at a local bistro. Steve paid and enjoyed your company and Scarlet's. You drank some wine, but no one got drunk. Everyone wanted to be clear-headed for the rest of the evening ahead once you were alone and things got more intimate.
During dinner, you discussed hard limits, kinks, and expectations for future get-togethers. The agreed-upon hard limits would be blood play, knife play, non-con, dub-con, age play, and nothing with bodily fluids except spitting. Not too surprisingly, you also had some similar kinks you shared with Steve and Scarlet. These included edging, marking, overstimulation, praise, and soft degradation.
You didn't quite see yourself making a porno and being paid by your brother's older friend for doing it, but it felt right with Steve. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Even with a part-time job doing a phone sex hotline and picking up some shifts at a local diner, you couldn't make ends meet. Since no one in your family wanted to help you pay for college, this is what you had to do.
The first time you were together, it was slow and sensual. Everyone had equal attention, and it was more of a soft-core porno. It started with you and Scarlet touching each other affectionately as Steve watched. Kissing, using toys on each other, eating each other out, Steve stroking himself, a hand job, and a blowjob.
He told you he loved every single second of it. The way you used your tongues and mouths, how you dirty talked, how hard he came. Everyone had fun, and the night was wonderful. He told you he would never forget that first time together, and being in your dorm room made it even hotter because of the thrill of being caught. Filming the porn in the dorm room was something you didn't expect to happen, but it did, and it was flawless.
Once it was released, you would get paid in full for your acting work. Steve would be called Principal Knight and your name would be Cherry, Scarlets for the porno would be Candy. For the next porno, you would film at his private mansion together. That was the night you would let him fuck you and use you in any way he pleased. The night started with a casual dinner out. Once that was over with, you went back to his mansion and smoked some weed while drinking some rather expensive champagne.
As the night was winding down and the joints took effect, you passed a bottle of vodka between the three of you. No one got drunk, but it was great combined with the buzz from the weed. For the porno, you would dress as a schoolgirl and would film in Steve's family's study library. He was going to play the part of the college principal.
The scenario was you and Scarlet in detention and he would punish you both. Dressed in the school girl uniforms and glasses complete to match, you went to the study and the cameras started rolling once everyone was loosened up and ready. Sitting down at desks your hair in pigtails, you tapped your pencil against the desk as Scarlet pretended to be reading a book.
Steve was behind the office desk and sitting in the leather chair watching you and her, his hands crossed and glasses hanging off his nose. When he looked away, you passed a note to Scarlet.
"Ladies, let me see that note!" He demanded sternly, getting up and walking over to the desks.
You gave him a good view of your cleavage as he stood over you, looking down with scrutiny in his eyes. Picking up the note, he read it out loud.
"Do you think that Principal Knight would raise our grades for us in the school system if we let him fuck us?"
Both you and Scarlet were smirking, getting into this.
"I see that you college girls don't know how to behave. What should I expect from straight C students?" He remarked with a scoff, playing the part of the principal perfectly as he put his hands on his hips.
"Please, sir, I have a scholarship. I can't lose it. Please, we'll do anything," you protested, giving him a pleading look and sad eyes.
"You aren't married, right? Or is there a girlfriend in your life, Principal?" Scarlet inquired with raised brows as she twirled a loose strand of hair with her finger.
Clearing his throat, Steve cupped her chin, tilting it upward.
"No, I don't. It's not like it's any of your business, anyway. I'll be back in a few minutes. Behave. Both of you or another detention."
He wagged his finger at the both of you as he sternly said this, then moved out of view from the camera. You and Scarlet were now seemingly alone.
"Let's make him want us. Seduce him, you know?" She suggested as she looked at you with the biggest smirk.
"Deal."
You shook hands on it, then whispered into her ear.
"Finger me while we kiss. He would love to see that when he comes back."
Wasting no time, she lifted your skirt, pushed your panties to the side, and inserted a finger. You were so wet already, and this made you even more turned on. Kissing for the camera, you spread your legs even wider, allowing her even better access, and kissed her deeply. Soon Steve came back into view of the camera, a fake look of shock on his face.
"Ladies, stop doing that!"
Breaking away from the kiss, you dared to protest.
"Why, sir? Don't you want to fuck us?"
His cock twitched in his pants, no longer being able to contain himself or his excitement as his erection continued to grow. You made the first move by kissing Steve and taking off his shirt. Scarlet watched with a glazed-out look in her eye and came up next to you, removing her shirt. You did the same and got into Steve's lap to kiss him more before switching places with Scarlet.
She broke the kiss to kiss you, making Steve groan softly.
"How about we make you feel like a king tonight, Principal Knight?" You meant every word of wanting to give him the best night of his life.
"Really? I would love nothing more," Steve responded as he got up, taking Scarlet over to his desk.
Removing his shoes first, his pants followed, then his boxers. Only his shirt and tie were still on.
"How do you want us, Mr. Principal sir?" Scarlet asked, aiming to please and more than willing to do whatever he wanted.
"I've been dying to taste both of you. Now remove the rest of your clothes and lean against my desk for me, but keep on the skirts and tights for now," he commanded sternly.
Scarlet helped you to remove your bra and panties with her teeth and you did the same for her. Getting the perfect view of you and Scarlet's bodies, you looked at Steve and his eyes were dark with lust. You leaned against the desk as he knelt and fingered both of you. Noticing the butt plugs in your asses, he tapped the jewels with his fingers.
"You are both so tight. Such needy girls for me too, aren't you? And these butt plugs. Magnificent!" He mused before adding more fingers getting you to loosen up for him.
"Taste me, Steve. I've been craving your tongue," you whined needily.
He chuckled softly to himself before giving in to your request.
"Oh yes Steve, eat my pussy," you encouraged him as he buried his tongue in between your folds. The pleasure was short-lived before he did the same to Scarlet.
"His tongue is amazing. Just like that, sir," she whined as you met her lips in a kiss.
You kept kissing each other, moaning against each other's mouths as she cupped your breasts and played with your breasts. You did the same for her as Steve kept switching up between the two of you. His cock was so aching and needy to fuck you both and he was harder than ever as he pleased your pussies and watched you kiss passionately with tongues.
"Keep moaning for me just like that, ladies. Keep kissing and don't stop until I tell you to." He continued to finger fuck you both and alternate between sucking your pussy and licking your ass before doing the same to Scar and again to you.
Already you felt pretty close to your release and judging by the sounds Scarlet was making, she didn't seem to be very far behind.
"Ok stop. Now get up and onto your backs," he ordered with no hesitation in his tone.
Each of you rolled onto your backs and he looked at both of your slick pussies coated with his spit and your juices. Quickly, he stripped off his shirt and tie and kicked them to the side. To say he was well-endowed would be an understatement. He was thick and veiny with a mushroom-headed tip.
Licking your lips in anticipation, you eagerly awaited for his cock to slip inside of you. Steve spit on his fingers, then moved them to your wet entrance, quickly finding your clit. He did the same with his other hand and fingered Scarlet. Lewd moans elicited from both of your mouths.
"Now kiss for me. Be good girls," he ordered firmly.
You wasted no time kissing Scarlet using your tongue, knowing Steve would love it. You were enjoying yourself immensely though, and it was for your pleasure and Scarlet's as much as it was for him to watch and enjoy.
"Hottest thing I've ever seen," he remarked before spitting on your pussy then hers as he continued to finger fuck you both at a rapid pace before suddenly stopping.
A wide grin formed on his face before he lined himself up at your entrance, teasing you with just the tip of his cock. You were still kissing Scarlet and moaning against each other's lips. Already you felt your orgasm fastly approaching.
"That's right moan for me," he cooed encouragingly as he thrust his hips, pistoning them and brushing back loose strands of hair from his face.
Steve hissed as he sunk deep and even deeper inside of your pussy. You gasped as he filled you up inch by delicious inch.
"Such a good cock, professor. So big for such a slut like me. Will I get an A?" You asked cockily as he pulled your pigtails.
"If you do as I say and let me fuck this little slutty tight pussy. And you missy," he addressed Scarlet, "Sit on your friend's face. I want to see how well she can eat pussy," Steve sternly demanded.
Scarlet positioned herself on your face, straddling you with her legs on either side of your head as you sat in the desk chair and she leaned against the desk.
"That's right, suffocate her with that naughty schoolgirl pussy," Steve ordered her with lust gleaming in his eyes.
Steve spanked your ass and pounded inside of you, not giving you any more time to adjust and with no warning. Steve pulled Scarlet in closer to him and kissed her as you rocked your hips and she played with her nipples as you ate her out with vigor and passion, moaning into her clit. Rutting inside you, he pumped his cock into your tight hole, gasping as he watched his cock jackhammer into you, going faster and faster. He flicked your clit with his finger, wanting to stimulate you, thus making you cry out for him.
"How does she taste tell me now!" He demanded before he slapped your pussy as it hugged his cock tightly. Steve loved a tight pussy, and yours was made perfect for his dick.
"So good. She tastes sweet," you whined as you felt his fingernails digging into your hips, no doubt leaving marks on your skin.
"She's so good at eating pussy. Amazing!" Scar cried out loudly as she ground her wetness on your face, running down your chin.
Steve grunted and growled fecally as he rolled his hips and his balls slapped against your pussy. Sweat was trickling down his brows as he fucked your wet and juicy pussy, having the time of his life. He loved putting women in their places and was doing just that with you and Scarlet. Scarlet was getting close to her release, and you were with yours as Steve pounded hard and fast.
"Dirty fucking whores! My little sluts. Be good girls for your principal if you want to stay at this university," he forewarned you both having fun with this and playing his role in this scenario.
"Mmm gonna cum, sir," you yelped in pleasure as his cock hit your g-spot.
"Me too, Principal Knight," Scarlet warned as she rode your face and you fingered her clit, sucking on her sensitive bud.
Pulling out, he stroked his cock a bit and replaced it with his fingers, making you cry out louder as you came all over them, even squirting a little. Scarlet gasped in shock and found her release, throwing her head back and fondling her breasts. Steve was content watching this as he pulled his fingers out and put them to Scarlet's lips.
"Suck my fingers, slut!" He bellowed.
She did with satisfaction before getting off your face and catching her breath.
"Suck my cock now, whores!" He ordered sternly as he pumped it with his fist still hard as a rock.
Getting on your knees, you both sucked him clean, tasting your juices on his cock, licking his shaft, and kissing as your mouths met at the tip. Sucking him into your mouth as you laved and licked at his cockhead and his shaft, loving how he tasted and how big he felt in your mouth. Alternating your mouth with Scarlets, Steve pumped into her mouth, hissing as she took him down all the way. He pulled out and then shoved his cock into your mouth, making you gag and choke as spit ran down his shaft.
Looking down at you, he moaned, then pulled out and went back to fucking Scar's mouth before yours again, making the most lewd noises. Suddenly he pulled out of your mouth as spit coated his shaft, the pearly tip leaking pre-cum. The three of you were having the times of your lives.
"Now I'm going to fuck Scarlet as she eats Y/N out."
Soon you moved over to the couch in the library and got comfortable. Steve slapped your ass then hers, getting a good grip of flesh, loving the feeling of being in charge of the situation. Scarlet grabbed a rabbit vibrator from her purse and handed it to Steve, letting him get a good look at it.
"Naughty girl. Now use this on your friend. Make her cum hard for me. See if you can make her squirt," Steve requested before handing the toy back to her.
Taking the toy and turning it on, she positioned it at your entrance, starting at a low setting to get you used to it as Steve entered her until he was balls deep inside. Moaning as he filled her up, she fingered you and licked your folds as Steve began pumping inside, holding her hair back as he did so. Steve's chest hair looked so gorgeous as he fucked Scarlet and she ate you out, sucking on your labia, making you cry out from the feeling of the toy's vibrations and her mouth.
"Fuck yeah, do that use that toy and eat that pussy," Steve sternly told her as he made eye contact with you and groaned loudly.
His pace was steady inside of her as he enjoyed the little show you and Scarlet were putting on for him. The sight of you two ladies together made him hard as a rock. Occasionally, you and Steve would look over at the camera, getting some good shots as you fucked. Surely people would love this porno and you were putting all you had into it. The best part of making the porno was giving each other pure pleasure.
"She's so good at this! Need to get in trouble more often so we can be punished more," you whined, not caring how needy you sounded.
"She's so tasty, Principal Knight. Thank you for letting me eat her pussy," she mewled between her groans of delight.
"Who said you could talk? Eat that pussy until she cums. NOW!" Steve sternly remarked before slapping her ass and playing with her butt plug before removing it. He fingered her ass, having her crying out even louder and eating your pussy with reckless abandon.
Even though you were acting, you were having the best time and hoped this meant something to Steve, and it certainly meant something to you too. The sounds you were making were orgasmic as Scarlet ate you out like it was her last meal and Steve fucked her hard, his balls slapping against her ass. She was not shy in the slightest as she used the toy at a higher setting and pleasured you with all her pussy eating skills. Threesomes were Steve's favorite, but this was the hottest and best threesome he ever had on and off-camera.
"Fuck yes like that! Yeah, gonna cum for you!" You practically screamed as the toy's high setting and her tongue hit your g-spot.
"Cum for us. I'm so close to needing to cum for you beauties," Steve forewarned Scarlet as he continued to finger her ass with one hand, his other rubbing harsh circles on her sensitive clit.
The toy had you cum all over her tongue and in her mouth as you rode out your high before she turned off the toy and put it to the side. Your swollen clit and dripping cunt full of your juices were licked clean by Scarlet as Steve pulled out of her, cumming all over her back. His fingers hit the right spot because she was cumming moments later in ecstasy and euphoric bliss as she screamed in satisfaction.
"Now lick it clean!" He instructed.
Wasting no time, you licked her ass clean and kissed her before swallowing. Opening your mouth for Steve, you showed him it was all gone now, and he smiled in satisfaction. Steve had more in store for the both of you and, as his cock was already getting hard again, he decided on what he would do with you and Scarlet next. Pulling out your butt plug, he placed it to the side along with Scarlet's and looked down at the two of you with the biggest grin on his face.
"What now, sir?" You asked curiously as you and Scarlet knelt in front of him with Scarlet's hands around your breasts.
"Yeah, well, now you have to finish your detention by letting me use your other hole. Your mouths were divine, your pussies even better, but I need to finish with your asses," he informed you both.
"Yes, sir. We would love to," Scarlet told him sincerely.
"Yes please," you told him with a smile.
He went to get the condoms and lube from his desk drawer and brought them back over to the couch. Steve unwrapped the condom from its foil packet and opened the bottle of unscented lube. He looked between the two of you as if deciding on who he should fuck first. There was one other item he had, and it was a gag ball, which made you open your eyes wide in shock.
"Since you want to be mouthy, you will use this for me as I fuck your friend, Candy. I am going to use you both to my liking," he admonishes.
Steve hands you the toy and smiles as you take it happily. He then puts the gag ball around Scarlet's mouth, adjusting it to make sure it isn't too tight. Once that was taken care of, Steve puts the condom on and lubes up his fingers, inserting them into your ass to get you warmed up from him, earning whines and mewls from you. Turning the toy on, you use it on Scar's sensitive clit.
"Oh, fuck your fingers feel amazing Principal Knight," you cried out as he smirks continuing to fuck your ass with his fingers then uses his tongue.
Once he felt you had enough and felt as if he had earned enough cries from you, he positioned himself at your back entrance and entered you inch by delicious inch. You gasped as he entered your ass crying out in pleasure mixed with a little of a pain at first and then with euphoric bliss from the delicious feeling of his big and thick cock. Scarlet watched with rapt interest as she moaned around the gag ball in her mouth from the pressure of the vibrations on her sensitive nub.
As he moved inside of you, Steve hissed and grunted from the intense elation of the sensations. He was getting from your ass, clenching his cock so tightly. You screamed delightfully for him against Scar's inner thighs, working the toy on an even higher setting on her clit, causing her legs to shake.
"Tell me how much you love my cock in your ass, slut!" Steve urged you as he picked up his pace, earning louder yelps and mewls to escape from your lips.
"So fucking good, sir! So good more, please!" You begged as you rocked your hips and ass as he pounded it with pure satisfaction.
"That mouth on you!" He admonished before slapping your ass cheeks hard and gripping the flesh tightly, squeezing it, causing you to scream for him even more.
Scar was feeling intense euphoria from the way you worked the toy on her clit as her creamy juices coated it and her cries muffled because of the gag ball she was drooling on. Steve only fucked your ass harder, his balls slapping and heavy with his cum. Rubbing harsh circles on your clit, he growled fecally as you licked your friend's asshole, still using the toy to overstimulate her pussy. After fucking you for a few more minutes and rubbing your pussy, he made you cum and squirt before pulling out, feeling his fingers soaked.
"Oh, fuck sir, you made me squirt!" You shrieked as he slapped your ass again, groping it and soothing the red marks he left with imprints on your ass.
Steve removed the gag ball from Scarlet's mouth and took the toy, turning it off and tossing both aside. Getting another condom, he put it on and got more lube. You switched places with Scarlet and removed your skirts, now fully naked, on the couch for him to use as he pleased. Rubbing lube on her asshole as she was lying on her back, he makes sure she is ready before he enters her and lets her get adjusted.
"Thank you, sir, for using my ass," you gratefully told him as he fondled and gripped your ass with his hands.
"You're welcome whore. Now you Y/N need to see you please your friend here as I fuck her ass," he requested with a glint in his eyes.
"Yes, sir, anything for you."
Steve began his thrusts inside of her tight ass, moaning as he fucked her and you began to fondle and kiss her breasts before sucking one of her nipples into your mouth and then the other. He watched with wide eyes, loving the sensations of how it felt to be inside her tight ass as you pleased her and made her moan from the sheer contentment she was feeling from all the stimulation and attention. Scarlet moaned into your mouth as you kissed and groped her breasts and Steve fucked her ass hard and fast.
"How does it feel with him in your ass, huh? How does his big dick feel?" You asked her with curiosity as she whined and tangled her tongue with yours as she rocked on his cock as his balls slapped and hung heavily, bouncing against her ass.
"So good. Feels wonderful. I love how tight it feels and I want it so badly!" She wailed against your lips, craving the way his cock twitched inside her ass as they chased their climaxes together.
"So close, you fuckin' slut gonna cum soon. Want to cum in your mouths. Finish me!" Steve bellowed as he pulled out and tossed the condom in the trash can.
Wasting no more time, you and Scarlet knelt in front of him as he jerked himself off and began to cum into your open and eager mouths, watching you take him all down your throats. You kissed after and he watched in rapt fascination, feeling spent from the wonderful fucking he just did. Spitting into her mouth, she swallowed eagerly as you also swallowed his seed until it was all gone. Steve pulled you in for a kiss and then Scar.
"Detention is over. Until next time, ladies."
That porno was one of many that you made with Steve and eventually, you made some with Eddie, too. The first porno you did with Eddie was him as the rockstar (of course) with you as the groupie. An adult film you did with both Steve and Eddie was a fantasy of Knights in shining armor, Eddie and Steve with you being the Princess who was the damsel in distress. A Halloween porno with you dressed as a witch and Eddie/Steve were the warlock wizards. Eddie was a pornstar as his part-time career when he wasn't being a big rockstar and a mechanic. Nothing came close to the first porno you did with Steve and your friend, but each one was seductive, erotic, and sexy. In one, you even dressed up with masks like it was a masquerade ball and Steve/Eddie were wearing suits and masks.
Once you even dressed as a librarian and the guys were your naughty college fraternity boys. Only that porno came close to the others. Since Steve liked aerobics so much, he even wrote a script for an aerobics roleplay that involved you and Steve with some other ladies in the industry doing an orgy. There was other time you spent with Steve and Eddie, of course, when the cameras weren't rolling and you were no longer filming.
Scarlet would even guest feature in some of the other films you did with Steve and Eddie, and each film was super hot and fun to make. You made a good deal of money, but you also did them for the experience, of course. Steve even won an adult star award for the best male performer of the year, and you won one as the best breakout star. Eventually, you dated Steve and Eddie, and nothing came in between the three of you. No other performers and no anyone else could break your bond.
soundtrack
talk dirty to me and bad to be good by Poison
porno star by Motley Crue
pony by Ginuwine
sexual healing by sarah connor
pour some sugar on me by def leppard
whole lotta love by led zeppelin
feel like makin' love by bad company
Love Bites (so do I) by Halestorm
fever by Judas Priest
I Touch Myself by Divinyls
cherry pie by warrant
come by prince
harder faster by a wasp
taglist
@corneliuswatkins @jadeylovesmarvelxo @ali-r3n @mrprettywhenhecries @ofhawkinsandvecna
@keeryatmosphere @daisy-is-a-writer @lovelythoughtfulcupcake @munson-mjstan @espressomunson
@eddiemunsonfuxks @seatnights @corrodedcorpses @hcwthewestwaswcn @bimbobaggins69
@thescoopstroopers @haceleyes @onegirlmanytales @thepurplelovewitch @ellharrington
@stolen-in-moonlight @hellv1ra @kelseyaparker19 @keikoraven @loritate7311
@somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @steveslittlesunflower @shichey97 @harringtonfan4
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southelroydrive · 2 years ago
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i'll make your body a habit.
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pairing: robin buckley x f!reader summary: you're the guitarist for corroded coffin, known for your flirtatious and confident attitude but little do your fans know how you really are when you're alone with your girlfriend. word count: 3.4k title: own my mind by måneskin warnings: smut (18+ mdni), fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), degradation, multiple orgasms, weed usage a/n: this has been sitting in my notes app for like 3 months and i finally finished it. happy pride everyone <3
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it was corroded coffin’s first gig outside of hawkins, a night you and your bandmates had been tirelessly preparing for over the last few weeks. four hours away from the small town of hawkins, indiana and filled with the promise of your first big break into the music industry.
yet, no one was more excited than your girlfriend robin. your sweet robin who was so proud to see her girl on that stage, living your dreams as a reality. your sweet robin who would travel to the ends of the earth just to see you perform.
she’s completely enamored by you as she stands in the crowd, steve right by her side. watching the way your hair sticks to your forehead, beads of sweat rolling down your temple as your fingers dance across the strings of your guitar. the way your hips sway, wide grin stamped on your lips as you let the music lead your movements. heavenly, that’s how she’d describe you.
a tight leather corset covered your torso, tits glistening with perspiration and practically spilling out the top. she couldn’t take her eyes off you even if she wanted to. or your smooth legs completely on display from the miniskirt adorning your waist. deep red in colour, which matches the tint of your lips, dripping in chains and safety pins that robin had watched you meticulously place the night before. watching the way the chains bounced with every snap of your hips to the rhythm of the song, she now knew why as the movement seemed almost hypnotic.
from the corner of his eye, steve can’t help but chuckle at the look of pure infatuation glossing over his best friend’s eyes. he nudges her with his elbow, making her reluctantly tear her gaze away from you to look at him with a frown.
“you’re so whipped, man.” he smirks, the freckled girl only rolling her eyes in response, a muttered “shut up.” falling upon deaf ears before turning back to the stage.
every time you lift your head to catch her eyes, your plump lips curl into an amused smile. your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you send her a playful wink before looking away. robin can’t help but let the corners of her mouth twist up into a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes linger down the length of your body. god, was she lucky.
by the end of your set, your chest is heaving with every deep breath that exhales from your mouth. a bright, toothy grin that lit up the room more than the blinding stage lights ever could spread across your lips as you look out at the crowd. with a bow and the sharing of a few final words, it’s finally over. the grin on your lips never leaving as you follow your bandmates off the stage.
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“birdie!”
robin’s eyes snap towards your direction upon hearing your voice. she had just found her way backstage, where you stood beside your fellow bandmates a few metres away. your cheeks flushed bright red, panting for breath and veins bursting with adrenaline. beside you, she sees eddie’s lips moving in what she can only assume is a teasing remark by your reaction. you roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder as you rush past him over to your girlfriend, who envelops you in her arms once the gap between you finally closes.
“oh my god, babe!” her hands cradle the sides of your face, beaming down at you as she presses a sweet kiss to your lips.
“you.” she kisses you again. “were.” and again. “so.” and again. “fucking amazing!”
this time, her lips kiss yours deeply, lingering for just a moment before pulling back. your scarlet lipstick is now smudged, making her own lips pretty pink and glossy. you chuckle at the sight, leaning in to press a final kiss to her lips.
her hands slip to your waist, holding you close to her chest. yours wrap around her neck, fiddling with the ends of her hair. “so… you liked it?”
“are you kidding me?” she laughs, tugging you closer until your body is flush against hers. “you know i love watching you perform, you’re so talented baby.” her hands gently lower to your hips, her thumbs rubbing circles on the bone.
“oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow, a small smile on your lips as you peer up at her through your eyelashes. you tilt your head up, lips inches away from her own. “well, i’m pretty talented at other things too, maybe we coul-“
“hey, ladies!” you groan, pulling your face away from robin’s as eddie slings his arm over your shoulder. a shit-eating grin takes its place on his face, clearly pleased with the flush of embarrassment dusting both yours and your girlfriend’s cheeks. “are you two coming or what?”
you shove his face away from your side, rolling your eyes at his antics. “you’re such an asshole, you know that?” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you give him an unimpressed glare, yet the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips gives you away. this only makes his grin widen, winking at you before turning on his heel. “love you too, sweetheart!” he calls over his shoulder, curly mop of hair disappearing into the bar.
robin’s hand returns to its place on your hip. her other hand gently cupping your cheek and tilting your face up towards her. “hey.”
“m’gonna kill him, i swear,” you mumble, gaze softening under her gentle caress. you lean your cheek into her palm, sighing exasperatedly.
“some other time, yeah? gotta celebrate your big show.” robin pats your cheek affectionately before her hand falls to her side, the other slipping to the small of your back to gently guide you in the direction of the green room.
“fine, fine.” you roll your eyes a final time, a playful smile on your lips as you lean your head against her shoulder.
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you spend the next few hours surrounded by your friends, rejoicing in the simmering adrenaline in your veins and the pungent smell of weed. the worn loveseat in the corner of the green room is occupied by you and your girlfriend, sat side by side. your legs drape across her lap, propping your elbow up on the back of the couch. her palm settles on your plush thigh, fingers fidgeting with the chains dangling from your skirt.
you bring the joint in between your fingers to your lips and inhale the smoke into your lungs, before exhaling. your body relaxes back into the chair, letting the drug take its effect on your body. she takes the joint from you, taking a hit herself.
you admire the way her lips wrap around it, held between her slim fingers. your mind can’t help but stray, already fuzzy from the high clouding your mind. you shift a little in your seat, an uncomfortable ache growing between your legs. her eyes meet yours, catching your movements as smoke spills from her lips. she glances around before leaning her head down so only you could hear her.
“something wrong, doll?” her voice drops down to a low, husky hum making the pool of arousal between your legs harder to ignore. her fingers trail up further to fiddle with the hem of your skirt before slipping underneath, feeling the plush skin of your inner thighs.
you shake your head, breath hitching as her fingertips inch closer and closer to where you were begging for her. she kisses her teeth, pinching the inside of your thigh before pulling her hand away. a small whine escapes your throat before you're biting down on your tongue, eyes darting around to see if any of your friends noticed. they didn’t, too immersed in their conversations to pay the two of you any mind.
you hear robin chuckle from beside you, turning to her with a glare. your bottom lip juts out into a pout, only causing your girlfriend’s lips to curl into an amused smirk. “don’t be pouty, baby. you’ll get what you want later.”
your eyes widen, sitting up straighter as you lean in closer to her. “whatever i want?” the curious tilt of your head as your chin rests on her shoulder and the glimmer of excitement sparkling in your eyes almost persuades her to take you to your car that minute. god, she didn’t even think you’d make it to the car and make use of the shitty public restrooms of the gross, dingy bar you were in. but no, that’s not what robin wanted. you deserved the best that night.
“mhm hm. like i said, we gotta celebrate your big show.” she smiles with a shrug of her shoulders, leaning back against the couch as she takes another long drag from the blunt. you can’t help but squirm in your seat, eyes fixated on her for the rest of the night.
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robin loved a woman who knew what she wanted, someone who would stop at nothing to achieve their dreams. she loved seeing you on stage, exuding dominance that certainly earned you a dedicated fan base. she loved your flirty and confident nature that could make anyone swoon, her included. and fuck, did she think you looked pretty when you were in your element, fingers wrapped around the neck of your guitar.
but looking at you now, robin thought you never looked prettier than in moments like these.
legs spread wide open in the backseat of your car, skirt bunched up around your waist and lace panties discarded as two long fingers curl inside your plush walls. the leather corset long forgotten, your tits lightly bouncing with every buck of your hips.
your hands grip her wrist, nails digging into her skin as her fingers pump in and out of you at a relentless pace. eyes half-lidded, swollen lips parted. your pussy drools onto the leather seat below you, your inner thighs glistening with your arousal but you’re too far gone to care. as pathetic moans spill from your throat, your hips mindlessly roll against her hand, silently begging for more.
“such a greedy girl, aren’t you? look at you, two fingers stuffed in your needy cunt and you still want more.” she chuckles, eyes darkened with lust as she stares down at you. if she thought you looked heavenly earlier, the image before her now would put that to shame. chest rising and falling with every pant that leaves your puffy, glossy lips, eyes struggling to stay open as she pushes your body closer to pleasure.
her condescending tone goes straight to your head, making your mind even more fuzzy and a whine fall from your lips. the only thing worth thinking about is her and the feeling of her fingers pushing inside of you. your free hand flails to find something to grab onto, landing on her shoulder with a firm grip as she reaches that spongy spot deep inside of you. the car fills with the filthy sounds of her fingers pumping inside of you, along with the broken cries of her name.
“yeah? that feel good? come on, pretty girl. tell me what you want.” her lips graze the shell of your ear, voice a sensual whisper but her words are truly cruel. with the way her fingers are fucking into you, it’s impossible to think let alone speak. your eyes snap up to look at her, brows laced together in a pleading expression as incoherent whimpers leave your lips.
she chuckles, the sound taunting in your ear. “don’t be shy now, i just wanna make you feel good, baby. be a good girl and tell me.” she coos, pressing her lips against your jaw. her fingers continue their merciless pace, her thumb beginning to rub torturous circles on your poor, neglected clit.
“r-robbie please!” you let out a choked gasp as her thumb presses against your clit, a loud moan falling from your lips. your breathing becomes heavier, clenching around her fingers as she pushes you closer and closer to the edge. “god, fuck! baby, m’gonna-“
“yeah? you gonna cum for me?” robin’s almost as breathless as you, her finger hooking under your chin to force your gaze to lock onto hers. as much as your girlfriend loved to tease you and wanted to make you beg for it, tonight was about rewarding you. she looks down at you, eyes hooded with a smirk tugging at her lips when you nod desperately. “go ahead, doll. cum all over my fingers.”
a choked moan leaves your lips, eyes almost rolling back into your head as you gush around her fingers. your thighs tremble uncontrollably, hips involuntarily rolling against her hand as you ride your high. robin feels her own cunt throb as she watches you reach your climax. your face scrunched up in pleasure, walls clamped down around her fingers as they slow, prolonging your pleasure.
“holy shit.” you pant heavily, gasping for breath. your grip on her shoulder loosens, slumping back against the leather seats. a dazed smile rests on your lips, eyelashes fluttering as you come down from your intense orgasm.
“look at you, my gorgeous girl.” she sighs dreamily, nose grazing your cheek as she eases her fingers out of you. she could almost moan from the sight of your juices dripping down her hand, lifting her head to look directly at you as she slips them into her mouth, making a show of licking them clean.
you watch her with bated breath, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as you watch her. pink lips wrapping around slick fingers, her eyes boring into yours as she does so. your trembling thighs press together, a new wave of arousal washing over your body despite how sensitive you were.
her eyes flutter shut, a satisfied groan leaving her lips as her tongue swirls around her fingers. she pulls them out of her mouth with an audible pop, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she sees the way your body reacts. her head tilts down, hot breath tickling your cheek. “you taste so fucking good, baby. you drive me insane.” she mumbles, eyes blown wide with lust as she cradles your jaw.
another pathetic whimper barely escapes from your lips before she’s silencing you with her own. the kiss is sloppy, tongues swirling together hungrily.
when she finally pulls away, her forehead presses against yours as she gazes down at you, smirking at the sight of your flushed cheeks and the uneven rise and fall of your breath, all just for her to see. the hand on the side of your neck shifts to wrap around your throat, a sharp gasp leaving you at the action.
she chuckles, applying a small amount of pressure around your neck, just enough to have a small mewl escape your throat. “yeah? is this what you wanted, doll?” her voice is a seductive rasp, breath fanning across your face. “poor baby just wanted me to treat her like a dirty whore, hm?”
the frantic nod of your head is a clear answer for her. her lips twitch in amusement. “that’s what i thought.”
her grip tightens, pushing your head up with a gentle squeeze. her gaze locks onto yours, half-lidded eyes staring deeply into your own. “you look so pathetic like this. what would they say, baby? what would all those people say if they knew how much of a slut you were for me, hm?”
you whine, an arm lifting up to hide your face in your elbow as her words fill you with embarrassment.
she shushes you, gently guiding your arm back down to your side. “i know, sweet girl… only i can see you like this.” she whispers, her hand moving away to instead grip your thighs firmly.
her lips slowly make their way down your body, shuffling down the backseat of your car. they skim down the valley of your tits, down your stomach. travelling further and further down until they ghost over the inside of your thighs.
your eyes widen as she hooks your legs over her shoulders. she smirks when she comes face to face with your pussy, eyes trained on yours as she leans down.
her tongue slowly slides through your folds, coating it with your slick. she groans, eyelashes momentarily fluttering as she laps up your juices. you let out a high-pitched moan, hand flying to her hair to stable yourself. the vibrations of her grunts and hums make your grip tighten, grabbing fistfuls of her hair.
she’s merciless. tongue licking and sucking like a woman starved. her hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer as her tongue flattens against your folds, slowly dragging up and up until she reaches your clit. her eyes stare up into yours, watching your face twist in pleasure, jaw becoming slack as she wraps her lips around your puffy clit. it elicits a sharp whine from your throat. your hands run through her hair, unable to decide between tugging her away from your sensitive cunt or pushing her head closer.
“fuck, fuck, fuck! ohmygod, r-robs!” the words spilling from your lips are nothing but incoherent whimpers, babbling uncontrollably as she sucks harshly on your clit. hips mindlessly rutting against her face, hands feverishly tugging strands of her hair. you feel her lips curl into a smirk against you, blue eyes piercing through your half-lidded ones.
your thoughts are practically mush, consumed by the overwhelming pleasure that drives you closer and closer to another orgasm. robin can tell, by the way your trembling thighs clench around her head, pushing her even further between your legs, and the way your moans get more breathless and whiny.
she reluctantly pulls her mouth away. the hot breath hitting your pussy, making you squirm. “come on, pretty girl. you gonna give me another one, hm?” she peers up at you, watching your vigorous nod and the desperate buck of your hips. a small chuckle leaves her before she’s burying her head between your thighs once more, eating you out as if her life depended on it.
it’s not long until your back arches off the leather seat, a final broken cry of her name spilling from your lips as you cum on her tongue. she lets out a soft groan, greedily lapping up everything you give her.
“b-baby s��too much!” you whine as her tongue continues to glide through your folds. your thighs tremble with sensitivity around her head, inevitably pulling her mouth away with a harsh tug to her hair.
her mouth detaches from you with a soft laugh. your feet landing on the floor with a soft thud as she sits up on her knees, your legs slipping from her shoulders. “i know, i know. i’m sorry, sweet girl.” she chuckles, patting your thigh comfortingly.
she leans down, resting her forehead against yours as her hands trail up your sides. her touch admiring every dip and curve of your body. there’s a moment of silence between you both, only your heavy breaths filling the void. she tilts her head, pressing her lips against your forehead before leaning back. her back hits the car door, hands finding purchase on your hips as she pulls you into her lap.
her arms wrap around your waist, holding you close to her chest as your face nuzzles into the crook of her neck. she sighs contentedly, nails grazing over the bare skin of your back as your breath tickles her collarbones.
“i’m so proud of you, baby,” she murmurs, pressing her lips against your temple. you hum in response, shuddering as her nails rake over your spine.
“thank you…” you mumble, breath fanning across her neck as you place a tender kiss to her collarbones. her lips curl into a smile, feeling your own smile against her skin.
she puts both her hands on either side of your head, gently lifting it up to look at her. she gazes down at you with pure adoration in her eyes, fingertips grazing your cheekbones as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“my gorgeous, talented girl.” she smiles fondly, touch lingering on your face before she’s pulling you into a sweet kiss.
you could get used to this kind of post-show celebration.
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