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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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What about Eddie with shy!reader who still gets shy & flustered when he compliments/praises her even after being together for months now 🥺
hi love! this is such a sweet lil scenario! thanks sm for your request!! — the one where eddie is super good at making you feel pretty (but only because you make it so easy)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
“Does this look okay?” you ask for the hundredth time. Maybe millionth.
Eddie doesn’t shrug you off, though. He never does — not even when you’ve repeated the same question to him a thousand times.
The boy eyes your outfit like he’s really analyzing it, just like you wanted him to. In its fourth iteration, it looks only slightly different than the one before it, but he’ll take any opportunity to look at you that comes his way.
Most of the time, you can’t stand it when he stares at you for too long. Now he can do it all he wants because you’re asking him to. He feels a little like the luckiest guy on the planet.
“The skirt’s really pretty,” Eddie affirms with a nod. He’d argue that you’ve looked pretty in everything you’ve shown him, but he knows that’s not the answer you’re looking for. “I think I like it better than the jeans, actually.”
Even though you could wear almost anything and drive him insane, nothing beats seeing you in skirts. Something about your legs has always worked him wild — maybe because you keep them covered so often. 
It isn’t every day he gets to see you in these shorter bottoms. Those are only reserved for real special occasions. And, for some strange reason, you’ve decided that’s what Steve’s party is.
You look over your shoulder at the boy sprawled out on the edge of your bed. His wild hair and all black get-up looks much more jarring than usual against your baby pink comforter.
He’s dreadfully out of place in your girlish bedroom. You never want him to leave.
“You think so?” you wonder aloud, toying nervously with the hem of your white skater skirt. It’s not super short, stopping just below mid-thigh, but you’re nervous that it might be anyway.
Eddie scoffs like the answer’s obvious. “Totally. You look killer, babe. I’m gonna have to walk behind you all night to keep everyone from staring at you.”
Your nose scrunches at the crude compliment. Sometimes you wonder if Eddie thinks you’re prettier than you really are — like one of those funky carnival mirrors, but with the opposite effect. 
He’s under some sort of spell, you figure. He must be. 
You don’t deserve to be loved on as much as he loves on you.
“I’m being serious, Eds,” you argue halfheartedly as you turn back to the mirror. You tug at the bottom of your snug crop top when a sliver of your stomach starts to show.
The bed squeaks under his weight when he rises from his lounged position. He laughs and it sounds like sunshine. “I am being serious. You look amazing.”
“You always think I look amazing,” you murmur, flashing him a weak glare from beneath your lashes through the mirror. You’re not as annoyed as you seem. Embarrassed and a little undeserving, sure — but not annoyed.
“How’s that my fault?” Eddie scoffs with a chuckle. His chunky sneakers thud, thud, thud against your carpeted floor as he walks over to you. “If you didn’t look so pretty all the time, I wouldn’t have to compliment you, so… Checkmate.”
“Stop it…” you protest, mousy and only half-joking.
Eddie’s almost certain that none of his words ever get through to you. Every time he tells you something nice, you think he’s joking. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never been serious about anything in his life — other than you, of course — or if you don’t think you’re worthy of praise.
Maybe it’s a healthy mixture of both. 
It breaks his heart all the same.
Your back meets his chest when he stands behind you. His deep, musky cologne engulfs you like a fuzzy blanket. His ringed fingers are warm as they splay along your hips.
Even when he’s barely touching you, he makes you feel so held. 
“I mean it,” Eddie assures. His voice is soft, quiet, and serious — a stern sort of coo. His button-eyed gaze pierces your own as he stares at you in the mirror. He squeezes softly at your sides. “You look really pretty, babe. I think you should go with this one.”
Grateful that the attention is less on you and more on your outfit, you get less sheepish. “You don’t think it’s too much for a party?”
“No,” he answers with a curt shake of his wild head. “’S perfect. Honestly.”
You huff and lean back against him — not relaxed, exactly, just wanting to feel more of him. Eddie’s chin rests on your shoulder as your arms cross over your stomach. You look almost like you’re hugging yourself.
“Do you think they’ll like me?” you wonder, so quietly it sounds like a bunch of mumbles.
Eddie’s practically developed super-hearing after being with you for so long. 
He scoffs in response. “They’re gonna love you,” he promises, brows raised beneath his frizzy bangs. A pink smile tugs at his mouth. “Like, seriously. They’re gonna be obsessed with you. Henderson, especially. Him and Robin are gonna talk your ear off the whole night.”
You’re smiling before you realize it.
You love that he can imagine you so perfectly meshing with all the people he cares about. Your heart swells at the thought. You love fitting into his world.
“Really?”
“Really,” he nods with a scrunched nose. “And then I’m gonna have to share you with them and… You know what? Maybe this is a terrible idea.”
You exhale sharply through your nose in place of a laugh. You purse your lips to the side when you feel like you’re smiling too big. It takes over your whole mouth anyway.
Eddie watches your gaze duck towards the floor where his dirty sneakers stand alongside your shiny Mary Janes. He smiles at you like he’s just heard his favorite song on the radio — like he’s watching happiness incarnate and holding her in his hands.
“There it is,” he singsongs quietly. “I’ve been waiting to see you smile all night.”
Your face heats like a stove eye. You think you might actually burn him if he touched your cheeks just now.
“Stop,” you whine as if he’s hurt you in some way. You writhe in his arms to escape his grip, but he only holds you tighter.
“Sorry, babe,” Eddie apologizes, mostly insincere. He tucks his face into your shoulder and mumbles his words there. “You can’t escape me.”
He sprinkles tiny kisses on your neck. You raise your shoulders, not because you want him to stop, but because the softness of his touch tickles you there. You’d rather feel his lips against your own, anyway.
“You’re such a sap,” you tease as your head turns to peer up at him. The words leave your mouth so softly you might as well be telling him ‘I love you.’ In some ways, you are.
“I mean it, though,” he confesses. He seals his promise with a barely-there peck to the tip of your nose. His lips just barely brush your skin before he’s pulling away again. “You look pretty. Beautiful, even.”
You trap your smile between your teeth as you twist in his hold. Your arms stay pressed between your bodies while his arms embrace you wholly. “Beautiful, huh?” you echo with a sarcastic lilt.
“Uh-huh. Beautiful with a capital B.”
Despite how desperately you want to look away from his intent gaze — so full of love that they’re twinkling with it — you force yourself to keep his stare. “Well, I think you’re Beautiful with a capital B, too, Eds…”
Eddie beams at you, taking your compliment in stride. You wish you could do that, too.
“Thank you, baby,” he hums before smacking a kiss to your waiting mouth. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint and strawberry chapstick.
It’s over far quicker than you’d like it to be. He doesn’t seem as grieved by it as you do.
“Alright, babe. Let’s go,” he announces with a boyish grin when he parts from you. You smile as he heads out of your bedroom, picking up the purse on your desk as he goes. He knew you’d forget it otherwise. 
His voice comes muffled from the hallway, “Your chariot awaits!” 
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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Okay, hear me out. The reader has a birthday in the summer and boyfriend!Steve is throwing her a little surprise bd party somewhere outside of Hawkins, along with Eddie, Robin and the kids 🥹🥰
thanks for your request!! — the one where steve harrington and the rest of the gang try hopelessly to celebrate the grump of the group (grumpy!reader, established relationship, 2k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
A heart-shaped cake sits on top of a rotting park bench.
It’s obviously homemade, slathered with sage green icing that’s visibly uneven — bare in some places and thicker in others. Your name is written on the very center in a darker shade of juniper. At least, you’re pretty sure it’s supposed to be. The letters are sloppy and nearly illegible. It could say anything really, and you’d have no way of knowing.
Several smaller hearts are dotted around the top and the sides, looking more like gloopy circles and poorly drawn birds. You figure they were added as an afterthought, perhaps to distract from the various dents around the edges of the cake.
Despite all that — or maybe because of it — your heart swells with an inhuman sort of warmth.
You didn’t think people cared enough about you to bake a cake for you. Or to throw a surprise party for you. Honestly, you didn’t think anyone besides Steve even knew it was your birthday. The thought makes your chest feel tight, a healthy mixture of mirth and panic.
Several faces smile expectantly at you. You blink owlishly back at them. The twittering sounds of nature fill the anticipatory silence.
“Sorry,” you apologize in a half-sincere monotone, fidgeting awkwardly on the wooden bench seat. “I just… I never know how to respond when a group of people sing Happy Birthday to me.”
Steve smiles and smoothes a palm up and down your spine. His honey eyes flit between your profile and the burning striped candles on top of the cake. “I think most people usually blow out the candles at this point, babe.”
“Yeah,” Robin concurs from across the bench, sitting squarely on the edge to fit beside Dustin and Eddie. Her blue eyes widen as her maroon-tinted mouth quirks slightly upward. “If they burn too low, they’ll set the cake on fire.”
Eddie beams at her words. His chocolate eyes dart between Robin, the cake, and you. “Wait… That actually sounds kinda cool,” he lilts with a soft chuckle.
“No! Not cool!” Dustin argues in response. His bushy brows pinch together in disdain and his nose scrunches at the thought. “We worked hard on this cake, okay? So let’s maybe not ruin it—”
“I thought it was already ruined?” you blurt before you mean to.
The curly-haired boy snaps his attention from Eddie to you, equally as confused as you seem to be. “What?”
You shrug with a flat face. “I don’t know… I thought you guys, like, dropped it on the way over here or something.”
You’re too kind to be mean, too aloof to realize how insensitive you sound. 
You thought it might’ve been the perfect explanation for why the cake looked so… messy. Dustin was a perfectionist to boot, and Max commanded the boys like it was her job to do it. With their forces combined, you figure they could make just about anything five-star bakery-worthy.
This heart-shaped cake in front of you isn’t perfect. It looks more like what would happen to a sheet of paper if you gave toddlers a bunch of finger paint. Because they weren’t trying to make it flawless at all. They were making something sweet for you and having fun together while doing it.
You can imagine the kids laughing as they flick flour at one another and smear green icing on each other’s cheeks. Your chest warms all over again. Your heart glows with a happiness you often keep hidden.
“Considering it’s your birthday, I am actively choosing not to take offense to that statement,” Dustin responds after a beat of silence, a sincere smile on his boyish features.
“We made it ourselves, actually,” Lucas tells you with his own grin. He sits adjacent to the former boy, shoulder-to-shoulder with Max. Despite the many inches of space on either side of them, his bare arm brushes against her freckled one.
“That makes sense,” you mutter to yourself.
Steve exhales a laugh from beside you. His broad hand squeezes gently at your shoulder. “Blow out the candles, babe. Before you actually do set the cake on fire.”
Your chest inflates with an inhale that you blow out through your mouth. The flickering orange flames shift sideways for a moment before turning into wisps of gray smoke. 
The group around you starts to applaud. Some of them cheer quietly for you. It makes your brows furrow with distant contempt. You shrink into yourself, not made to be easily celebrated.
Steve smacks a kiss to your cheek, then. His plush, pink lips smush against your skin and pull into a beam a second later. His eyes sparkle with the sunshine expression when you turn to look at him. 
His arm curls more intently around you to hold you closer. Even though you make no move to hold him back, you melt into him just the same. His smile widens when he feels you grow heavier against him — much less tense than you usually are.
“What’d you wish for?” he wonders with his brows raised.
In a deadpan, you answer. “That goes against the philosophy of wishes, Harrington.”
“Right,” he concurs in a scoff. You feel his chest rumble with breathy laughter. It makes you lean further into him before you realize you’re doing it. 
Steve notices, though — rather quickly, because physical affection never did come easily to you. His already wide smile grows somehow fuller. His nose smushes into your hair when he pressed a kiss to your temple.
—————
The cake quickly disappears as everyone cuts themselves a slice and downs it with vigor. It’s less about being dreadfully hungry and more about there being something innately delicious about homemade pastries. 
Dustin tells you he calculated the recipe himself — comparing the backs of several cake mix boxes and what he knew you liked best. That, along with Max’s strangely distinct cheffing ability, created the perfect cake.
It was just dense enough, just sweet enough, just soft enough.
Despite its mess, it was undeniably made with love.
When Steve dismisses himself to get the cooler of drinks he left in his car, you take your slice of cake with you. You hold the festive plate in one hand and a plastic fork in another. Blanketed by shade at the side of the vacant road, you confess with green icing on the corner of your mouth — “Can we go home now?”
Steve huffs as he drops the heavy cooler on the grassy trail. He rises with a furrow to his brows.
“What? We just got here,” he answers with a soft chuckle, reaching his arm out for you. His knuckles brush gently at your chin as his thumb swipes over the corner of your mouth. 
The action is too quick for you to dodge. Your features scrunch in disgust when he licks the rouge icing from the pad of his finger. 
“We haven’t even finished eating yet.”
“But it’s so hot,” you gripe, face twisted in a distant pout. “And there’s, like, a million things I’d rather be doing.”
“Well, that’s rude,” the boy jokes with his head tilted to his shoulder.
“Everyone just, like… keeps talking to me. And looking at me. I don’t like it— it’s weird.”
Steve smiles, pink and lopsided. “God forbid someone pays a little attention to you every now and then, huh?”
“You do it enough,” you grouse like you’re not grateful for how much he loves you. Your face is fixed in a deadpan to conceal the adoration you have for the boy in front of you. Your eyes twinkle with all of it, anyway. “I don’t need anybody else to give me attention.”
Steve’s chest swells — with pride, perhaps, or maybe with how much he loves you. A healthy mixture of both, maybe.
“Damn right, you don’t,” he singsongs lowly before leaning down to kiss you. His soft lips press against your scowl. He feels like the white puffy clouds above you and tastes like the blue sky surrounding them. 
You don’t want to lean into them, still a bit pouty in your way. 
You regret not kissing him harder the second he pulls away from you.
He picks up the cooler and flashes you a soft, sympathetic grin. “C’mon, babe. Just a little while longer, okay? And then I’ll take you home. I promise.”
He’s about to walk away from you, turning on the heel of his dirty sneaker and expecting you to follow him. 
You don’t, though. You cross your arms over your chest and stand in one place, calling out for him before he can get too far. “Wait!” you blurt, still quiet in your plea.
Steve stills. He turns back to you, his brows raised expectantly. “Yeah?”
A beat of silence passes. You shift your weight on your feet and hold yourself tighter, letting the sounds of chirping birds and rolling breezes fill your quiet until you can find the words — the courage to say them, more like.
“That wasn’t my wish,” you confess gently.
You don’t say anything more than that, despite how vague it sounds. You expect him to understand you without having to plead for him outright. He usually does, though sometimes he loves to hear you beg.
Now, he’s just purely confused. 
“What do you mean?” he presses, not teasing you, just trying to understand you better.
“When I blew out the candles,” you explain, monotoned and still slightly pouting. “I wished that… you’d kiss me.”
That wasn’t entirely true. 
Actually, you wished that all of this would be over a lot quicker than how dreadfully slow it was going. 
You loved your friends, you really did, but you were not the same extroverted being who loved surprises that your boyfriend was. You’d much rather pretend you weren’t another year older and spend the day in bed, wrapped like a present in Steve’s arms.
And you don’t mean to lie about all that, but you don’t know how else to ask for another kiss.
You’re still learning how to be more openly affectionate with him — how to let Steve be more affectionate with you. He’s learning how to give you more space just the same. He can be too suffocating at times, he’s found, and his relationships have wilted like a dying flower accordingly.
You’re both looking for that sweet spot, the exact middle between too clingy and too distant. You’ve found that in each other in a lot of ways. The two of you bring a bit of both that balances you out perfectly.
Your words make Steve melt. 
He exhales a sharp laugh through his nose, chest swelling with so much love that it hurts him. His nose scrunches as he walks the short distance back to you. “Well, what kinda douchebag would I be if I didn’t let my girl’s wish come true on her birthday, huh?”
He drops the cooler at his feet again, and it crunches beneath the green grass. Melted ice and canned soda swish audibly from within it as he takes you in his arms. In the cool shade, his wide palms smooth around your hips to warm you like the summer sun.
You keep your arms crossed over you like you didn’t just beg him to be this close, still holding your plate in one hand.
“A huge one,” you answer, voice as flat as your face as you blink up at him. “You already are, actually.”
“Says the girl asking me to kiss her,” Steve jokes with a crooked grin.
Though your own smile threatens to quirk the edges of your lips, you fight to keep it hidden. “I take it back,” you quip at his teasing.
You’re lying, but he already knows that.
“No, you don’t,” he lilts with the shake of his head. He beams at you, perhaps too fondly than you deserve, and leans down once more to give you exactly what you wanted.
His pink lips lock with yours in a mixture of vivid hues. He tastes like sweet cake and sweeter soda. The rough pad of his tongue licks against your mouth to get a taste of you, too. It’s as soft and sweet as you’re still learning how to be.
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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shy! reader & eddie -  “are you okay? is the heat getting to you?” 
💛💛💛💛💛💛💛
hi angel! thanks so much for your request!! — the one where you have a hard time telling eddie when you feel bad and he nurses you back to health (hurt/comfort, shy!reader, 1.5k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
You felt a little like the sun was microwaving you.
The golden rays beat down on you most mercilessly, sucking all the energy from your body while simultaneously burning you alive. Once you sprawled out on the quilt Eddie brought for your little trip to Forest Hills Lake, you just laid there — too tired and too sick to do anything else.
The boy stood over you after noticing how uncharacteristically disinterested you were in feeding the ducks. His shadow shielded you from the sun as he poked your thigh with his foot. “Are you dead?” he joked with a lopsided grin you couldn’t see. Your eyes fluttered shut minutes ago, and you didn’t have the strength to open them again.
He knew something was off when you didn’t smile back. He knew something was really wrong when you muttered something vaguely in return that only came out in slurred mumbles. 
Eddie manages to get you up with little help from the you in question. 
Your suddenly exhausted frame leans heavily into his side as he leads you back to the trailer. Though the lake was quite literally in his backyard, the walk home took several minutes longer than usual. Your feet were made of brick and your swimming head had turned the world on its side. It took a world of strength to ascend the three steps of his rickety wooden porch. 
“Here, c’mon,” Eddie hums as he follows you through the squeaking screen door. He walks you the short distance to the couch, putting both hands on your waist to steady you when you start to sway. “Sit down before you give me a heart attack, alright?”
You listen to him, though you don’t exactly hear him. Through your pounding headache and the rushing ocean in your ears, he might as well be talking to you underwater.
“I don’t feel good…” you slur quietly, eyes squeezed shut as you descend slowly onto the couch cushion. Eddie holds onto your elbows as you sit, watching you with attentively wide button eyes.
“I know, doll,” he coos empathetically in return. “I’m gonna go get you some water, okay?”
Your clammy hands grasp his wrist when he lets you go, your grip weak with a barely-there touch. You peer up at him with glassy eyes that swim with unshed tears and leftover sunlight. 
“Don’t go,” you plead in a whisper. Your voice isn’t strong enough to be much louder.
You feel eerily close to passing out. Your head fills with static and you feel dreadfully far away from the world around you. Feeling this sick is scary in itself, but having Eddie so close makes you feel much safer in comparison.
“I’ll be right back. I promise,” he tells you with a soft, pink grin. He slides his palm out of your trembling grip to hold your hand. Your fingers are sweaty and uncharacteristically warm, almost burningly so. “You need some water in your system, babe. That’s probably why you feel so shitty right now.”
You’re too weak to protest any further.
The boy rushes into the kitchen. You vaguely hear his receding footsteps, glasses clattering together, and the hiss of the faucet — but it all sounds so far away. You’re just a countertop over from him, but it feels like lightyears.
Eddie stays gone for exactly four slow blinks. 
Time has become a big ball of nothingness in your nauseous state. It feels like he’s gone for a lifetime and zero seconds flat at the same time. Either way, you’re equally grateful when he returns to you.
“Here you go,” the boy lilts quietly when he’s back in the living room. He ushers the cup of water into your weak hands but keeps a hold of it for a moment or more, just to make sure you’ve got it. “Drink up, doll.”
Your face scrunches in disdain at the thought. You know you’re thirsty, but you feel so queasy that your mouth has started to water. 
“I’m scared I’m gonna puke,” you confess in a nearly inaudible slur. 
“You won’t. I promise,” Eddie assures with a quiet smile. His fingers smooth over your forehead to push away the sweaty tendrils sticking there. You’re hot to the touch — and not even in the way figurative way he always jokes about, like genuinely burning. He singsongs to quell heavy tension, “And even if you do, I’ll clean it up for you, okay?”
The thought of him washing up after you is as heartwarming as it is stomach-churning. 
You sip at the glass just to appease him. The water sloshes gently in the cup along with your trembling hand. It’s not cold, but it’s not warm either — it’s the perfect temperature for someone so fragile suffering from an acute bout of heatstroke. The liquid is soft in your mouth, piercing you somewhere in your soul and making you feel almost instantly better when you swallow it down.
“How’s that?” Eddie coos, still standing over you with a loving sort of concern.
You make an unintelligible noise into your water.
“Do you feel any better? Still feel faint?”
“I don’t know,” you mumble with a feeble shrug. Because you don’t. You still feel weak and burning, but less distant than you had just moments before. You’re not sure what that means, though. “Maybe a little…”
Eddie puts a hand to your forehead, at a loss of what else to do. You’re still hot to the touch, but certainly not as warm as you had been earlier. The whirring A.C. and tap water must be doing the trick, he figures. 
He spreads his palm along your clammy cheek. “You still feel a little sticky…” he tells you.
The words make you feel queasy. You blink up at him with a heavy, glassy gaze. “I feel gross…”
“You’re just sick, babe. It’s okay,” he assures you, laughing softly as he swipes his thumb over the apple of your cheek. His chocolate eyes sparkle when he looks down at you. “I’d hug you if I thought that wasn’t the worst idea in the world.”
The bridge of your nose scrunches at the thought. 
You need Eddie around, but the thought of him touching you any more than this makes you want to be sick. You’ll kiss him absolutely stupid the second you’ve cooled down, though. He won’t be able to peel you off of him, then.
You shake your head in response to his implication, slow and sloppy like a child.
Eddie chuckles. “Exactly. Keep drinking for me, ‘kay?”
He sits down next to you, careful not to jostle you too much. He leaves several inches of agonizing distance between you and finds keeping his hands to himself is a most incorrigible feat. He watches you take ginger sips from the cup and wants so desperately to hold you to his chest until you feel better again. 
He hopes that moment isn’t too far away now.
You feel considerably cooler once the water’s all gone. The leftover sunshine has nearly exited all your pores, allowing the air conditioner to formally pierce your skin. The tap water refreshes you from the inside out.
“Better?” Eddie ponders with raised brows.
You nod lazily.
He exhales in relief through his nose. “Good. You were starting to scare me for a second there.”
You flash him a sheepish glance. “Sorry…”
“It’s not your fault, doll. Don’t apologize,” the boy chuckles. Only you would apologize for feeling so sick — as though it wasn’t something as forced upon you as it was upon him. “I should’ve known better than to take you out today. It was way too hot outside.”
That’s not what he really wants to say. 
If he’d said exactly what he meant, it would’ve gone something like, “I should’ve known better than to take you out today because it was way too hot, and you never tell me when you’re feeling bad.” 
But that isn’t really your fault either. 
Eddie knows how you are. He should’ve checked in on your more. If he hadn’t gotten so distracted, he probably could’ve gotten you inside before the sun almost killed you.
“It’s not your fault, either, Eds,” you tell him rather pointedly, as though you could hear his thoughts.
“No,” Eddie concedes with a shake of his head. “It’s the stupid sun’s fault for making my girl feel so sick.”
And even though he wasn’t exactly trying to make a joke, you laugh at him anyway. It’s just a weak exhale through your nose, but Eddie beams when he sees you finally smiling. 
When his hands start to ache, he finally wonders, “Feel like being touched now?”
You don’t. Not really. Not in the way you’d like him to touch you, anyway. You’d love to be wrapped up in his arms and melt with him in totality, but your swimming head and warm skin disagree with you. 
You reach for the wrist in his lap and put his hand on your thigh — for the sake of feeling him, but not overwhelmingly so.  
It makes Eddie laugh. His palm smoothes over your knee before squeezing you there. “The water did the trick, huh?”
You nod. 
He beams. 
“I love being right,” he lilts, only halfway serious.
“I know you do,” you grumble in response. 
You love him and his smug grin far too much to be genuinely annoyed with him, though. The understanding of this unsaid fact makes his smile widen.
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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Deeper for You
Summary: (5.1 k) It's your annual beach trip with the crew from Hawkins, something you've all been doing together your whole adult life after life forced everyone to part ways. You're all close, but this year, an accidental encounter in the outdoor shower makes you get a little closer with one person in particular.
This is self indulgence at its finest. Fresh off my last week at the beach this summer, I needed a little Beach Steve in my life to tide me over.
Steve x Reader, NSFW 18+ Accidental exposure, friends to lovers, breast play, female oral, fingering, dirty talk encouraged, a little orgasm denial, maybe a spank and unprotected intercourse in the shower.
Crystal water. Crystal skies. Beach chairs circled around umbrellas and coolers. Crisp beers slipped in aging koozies and passed around like old times. You and your friends have been doing this for years. Ever since goals and lives and even some wives have taken the group here and there, Nancy started organizing this annual beach trip for the group from Hawkins. Years and miles have nothing on deep seeded trauma, she said once, in a too cheerful voice despite it's truth.
The heat of the sand between your toes and the smell of suntan lotion have become a comfort to you, just knowing you're back there with your closest friends. As you all creep closer to thirty than you'd like, this week never fails to make you feel nostalgic, youthful and forget all of your problems because it never feels like an ounce of time has passed with any of these people.
This year Nancy had to upgrade the rental - more rooms for yet another married couple in the mix, Eddie adding a wife - a little too sweet but just enough sass for him - into the fold. It was your first time meeting her, really meeting her, because no bride has the time for new friendship on their wedding weekend, and you've had such a nice week spending time with her. Chairs in the sand by the waterline together with a book most afternoons, leaving the raucous energy that comes after some morning beers as background noise to your fantasies.
"What are you two ladies reading over here anyway" Steve pokes at your shoulder on his way down to the water to cool off.
"They're fantasy novels, Steve. Naughty books, if you must know." You tease back, Eddies wife blushing beside you at your brazen honestly.
"Naughty books? Like love stories where they kiss and share a bed?"
"No Steve, like '... And then she felt the tips of his finger circle her clit before toying with her folds and the wetness pooling between her thighs. Edging her, pulling her closer but never giving her cunt what she really wants'" you read in an exaggerated and breathy voice direct from your page, picking up right where you left off. "That, Steve, is Naughty Books. "
"Shit. Okay. Well I'll leave you two to it, then. What the fuck." and he trots off into the waves. Sunkissed skin a perfect contrast to the white, foaming waves he's now floating in.
"So, that… you guys have a thing before or something?" Eddie's wife asks softly. So sweet, you can't even be mad at her for it.
"Steve?" You laugh, "No-no no. Just go way back "
"Oh I'm so sorry" she squeaks out, "I just thought… I mean you guys. Nevermind."
"Don't worry about it. We're all a little too close for comfort sometimes. I get it. We just have always gave each other shit as long as I've known him, that's all."
Later that night, the whole group gathers in the back of the house around a huge built in fire pit, all taking turns sharing, giving updates about life and work and families.
Late nights have been happening all week around this pit, but tonight is cool, and the Sangria Robin and Max mixed up is keeping you chilled.
"Hey, honey. You finally quit or do you want to join us over here?" Steve calls over to you, beckoning to the group of smokers over on the bench seat to the left of the fire.
"Every time I try… someone like you offers me a smoke and here I am again." You shrug as you lean over to snag the pack of cigarettes from Steve's outstretched hand before taking a seat. You slide out a slim cigarette and pull the lighter from it's spot in the back, lighting up and passing it back, kicking your feet out on the coffee table in front.
"Someone like Steve, what's that supposed to mean? You hurling insults again?" Johnathan teases.
"No, no. Byers, shut the fuck up. Lemme enjoy this sweet nicotine with my friends in peace, okay?" You roll your eyes, not actually knowing what you meant either, before shooting a look at Max sitting with the group. "Since when did you sit on the smokers bench? Huh?"
"Don't start with me mom. You've tried to quit four times a year for the past 10 years, so I don't even wanna hear it from you." The redhead sasses back.
Such a beautiful, self assured young women she's grown into, despite having such poor eyesight from…everything that happened…you have always had a soft spot for Max, and she for you. The glasses she wears are thick, despite years of corrective surgeries, but they don't take an ounce away from how lovely she's grown to be.
"Yeah yeah, just shut up and enjoy it. I bet Lucas hates it. Doesn't he? Goodie two shoes." You quip back and Max giggles in agreement, both of you taking a long drag as a follow up.
"You two man-eaters are trouble." Steve jabs.
"Excuse me, man-eaters? The one who has been dating the same guy since middle school and me, who goes on what, maybe 4 dates all year? Yeah total man-eaters, Steve."
After finishing your smokes, you all rejoin the group, playing dollar games of cards and dice, laughing the night away at bad luck and bad jokes. El has been banished to watching over participating and when Eddie's wife asks why, the mutters and mumbling of a wide variety of excuses poured out.
"It's uh - against her religion!" straight from Dustin's mouth won out, mostly because it was the loudest. So now you're all pretending El is Muslim, and that's definitely not going to last the rest of the week.
It's nearing two am as you pad up the stairs, pockets 10 dollars deeper, sand still clinging to your feet just barely and Steve's button up on your shoulders from when he passed it to you to quell your chill. Just like every other night of the trip, you sleep like a baby, tucked in a soft mattress with softer sheets and the blanket of a decent buzz still coursing through your bloodstream.
The next day is the last on the shore and after a late start and breakfast cooked up by Nancy and Johnathan to sop up the hangovers the day goes on much like the rest before it. Relaxing in beach chairs and blankets, music softly humming from a boom box in the shade of the umbrella, balls being tossed in a friendly game of touch football in the loose sand by the dunes.
The tide was rough today and swept you and Eddie's girl away on your chairs once before you slipped your books back in your beach bag and decided if you can't beat it, join it. Frolicking in the waves together, the rest of the group is shortly behind you joining in.
It's not five minutes until Eddie is tackling his wife into the crashing waves, rolling her dramatically in the lapping waves and sand. Max and El are jumping through crashing waves, hand in hand trying to make it past the crest and to where it is calm. Some of the boys are sitting in the sand watching and enjoying the cool breeze you catch when you're closer to the sea.
You, well, you were enjoying yourself wholeheartedly. That is until you're making your way back to shore and a huge wave creeps up behind you and slams you to the ground. Water currents tossing you around a bit like a ragdoll, it's a moment before strong arms pull you up and out, wiping your hair out of your face and brushing the wet globs of sand off you as you regroup. It's Steve who's got you and brings you back to shore, where you flop down on the sand together and burst out in laughter after you're both sure that you're alright, making it even harder to catch your breath.
The day at the beach was way more sandy than usual because of it all, sitting in the sand, being thrown around by gritty waves and soupy sand finding it's way intermingling with your bathing suit. You just can't wait till the end of the day to shower and hose off, so you dip away to hop in the rinse shower along the side of the property. Door swung shut, you run the water cold so it's as refreshing as it is a welcome rinse to your body where the sand is sticking and scratches.
Hair slicked back by the cool droplets, you're realizing quickly that a simple rinse won't rid your swimsuit of all of the caked in sand. Maneuvering your emerald green one piece to shake free the grit of the ocean, you're making progress as you drop your wide set straps off your shoulders and start working out the sand from your upper half.
It's just then that Steve must have had the same idea, and he's traipsing through the door of the shower himself, only to find you, strap down, left breast fully exposed, tan lines of your right crisp and leaving nothing to the imagination the way the suit is bunching down, and your hands coaxing the water over them from the low pressure showerhead to work off the sand.
"Holy fuck!" You both yell at the same time.
Yours an exclamation. A "Holy FUCK!" A barked out reaction to the surprise. The admonishment of your friend who doesn't seem to pay a goddamn mind to anything going on around him or he would have heard the shower tap on and running when he approached.
But his… Well, his was a statement. A "Holy. Fuck." Drawn out. A deep and gravely comment made to acknowledge the surprise he's found. More of an interest than an intrusion.
So when you reached to cover yourself and hide from embarrassment as a knee jerk reaction, he didn't make quite as quick a move to leave you be. He lingered, just enough for you to notice and under his breath whispered out again "Holy fuck."
Adequately covered, or at least enough that you can feel functional at this point, you look at him to quip "Are you just gonna stare or what?" And you expect him to snap out of his titty haze and leave you be to shake out the rest of your sand trap, but he doesn't.
Instead he asks, "Well, is that an invitation?"
Your eyes narrow at him, and he shrugs in reaction. "You can't be serious, Steve. Get outta here."
"I save you, and this is the thanks I get?" He teases, and you can't help but see how his eyes, blown out and black, don't move from your body when he says it.
"Steve." You say, quietly.
"Yeah?"
"I can thank you later." comes out just above a whisper.
"I think I'd rather you thanked me now."
When you don't argue back, or say anything for that matter, he takes that as enough of an answer as he needs. He knows you, and he knows that you have no problem telling someone to take a hike, so if you're not yelling at him like he's a small boy who got his hand caught in the cookie jar, he knows you're inviting him to take a bite.
So he's inside the shower quicker than your mind can even catch up to what's happening. He's crowding your space and reaching backwards to do the one thing you forgot to do yourself, hook the damn lock. You're pretty sure this man hasn't moved his eyes from you since the moment the door opened and at this point, you're meeting his gaze.
A sweeping hand, under your ear and landing on the nape of your neck is what shakes you out of your daze and before you know it his lips are on yours. It's a bruising thing, the way he presses them into yours, pulling you closer still by where his hand is cupping your head with his broad hand. You come up for air just a second before he backs off and you find yourself, open mouthed and smiling into his lips, still pressing into you. "Fuck. Honey. I- you okay? With this? I don't wanna… "
"I know I tell you this all the time, but this is different. Steve, you fuckin talk too much. Shut. Up." You say, emphasizing your words with two little tugs to his own hair where your hands have snaked around, too.
And he takes this welcome advance as an opportunity to wrap his other hand around you, up and under your arm, resting at the center of your back. Pressing together, you're so close. Impossibly so, and every little tick of the hip or twitch of the lips can be felt by the other instantaneously. He's testing you out but getting bolder by the second when he experimentally rolls his hips just a bit before coaxing your legs a bit wider to slot his knee in between. You gasp out at the feeling of him against you and involuntarily find yourself rolling your cunt against his thigh.
"Ah-oh fuck. Shit. Steve." You squeak out, as you look down to see that he's tucked up his swim shorts high enough that your grinding on his exposed thigh. Bristly hair on his legs commingling with the scratch of the sand and sea salt on your own thighs.
"C'mon, honey. You came in here to get clean. Me too. Lemme help you, yeah? '
Nodding your permission, he gently slips his fingers under the still loose straps of your suit, coaxing them down further, fingers ghosting over your arms as he works them down.
You've been doing this trip for years, and you swear the last thing you ever thought would happen was having Steve fucking Harrington peeling off your wet swimsuit in the shower. "You sandy all over, huh? Me too. Gotta rinse you off." he says, as he's reaching up for the shower head, detaching it from its base and bringing it down in between the two of your chests. Holding it there for a moment, he seems to consider this whole thing for the first time. "You-your good, right? I mean, I trust you. Do you trust me? "
"Yeah Steve, I do." You say, pressing your forehead to his and blinking away droplets gathering on your eyelashes.
He pulls the rest of your swimsuit away from where it's suctioned on your tummy and works it down your body, dropping heavy and wet on the shower floor. Once it's out of his way, he's back on your lips, sucking in your bottom lip just as you feel the cool water hitting your clit. Steve moves the shower head gently but purposely around your whole cunt, paying attention to your sensitive bud between passes through your folds. "Gotta get you cleaned up, huh? Need you clean for me. For what I'm gonna do next." He teases and you moan at his words.
Not exactly sure what he has planned just yet, you let him keep working your pussy clean and with every second of the pulsing jets of water hitting your clit rhythmically. "Yeah, baby I think you're all set." He states, replacing the shower head where it belongs and reaching his free hand down to rub through your folds, checking to be sure you're comfortable and free of that pesky sand.
When he's met with yet another whimper he's immediately dropping to his knees on the wet planks of the shower floor "Can I please, please taste you. Please."
"I didn't take you as one to beg, Harrington." You whisper out the tease.
"I will for this - for you. God, would you just answer me?"
You look down at him and nod but he wants your words instead, commanding you to speak up. And so you do, you gasp out confirmation just as his lips latch on to your already sensitive clit. He suckles there a little bit, before moving to make his tongue wide and flat coaxing noises from you that he doesn't want to forget the sound of.
He throws your thigh over his shoulder, giving him deeper, more angled access to your cunt, working you, moving it in and left to right. You cry out as his nose nudges at your clit while he slips a finger in up to his second knuckle and the cry turns silent as he keeps up his ministrations. Droplets of water are tickling down your chest and stomach, soaking his hair and face where he stays tucked in between your thighs. He shakes his head back and forth tapping at your clit with his movement and making you see stars.
Adding in another finger, he keeps lapping at your pussy, taking breaks to nip at the place where your thighs meet your sex and back again. He licks off a trail of water along the seam of your leg before making his way back to your center. Scissoring his fingers, he groans right into you and the vibration of it all drives you wild. "God, you fuckin taste like heaven. So good." And he dives back in, running his wide tongue along your entrance, drawing it front and upward toward your clit.
This time he pauses and presses his tongue up into the base of your clit, holding it there just as he presses both long fingers up and into your spongy spot, freeing the most wanton sound yet from deep within your throat. It spurs him on to keep going, pulsing that tongue and stroking that spot within. You're tensing and shaking under his strong grip and soft tongue, leg still hiked high over him, water cascading around the both of you. You're tumbling over the edge quickly after that.
In a bit of a daze and with wobbly knees, you swing your leg back down off his shoulder and bring him up towards you by his ears, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue in ways you never have before, and he looks beautiful like that. Eyes wide and wanton, hair dripping wet down his hair spattered chest, jaw slack in his own lust and pleasure, lips a deep pink and swollen from working you up down there. You bring him up fully to meet your lips and groan into his mouth, your taste heady and salty and beachy.
"I think you're clean" he laughs out as he pulls back just slightly and you can't help but bark out a laugh back. He takes the opportunity to latch on to your neck and bites at the skin under your ear.
In that moment you decide you're not done with him.
Tugging at the ties of his swim trunks, Steve pulls back to look at you. "N-no, we don't have to."
You hear his words but you also feel the hardness underneath those trunks, "Steve, it's - it's no big deal. You started this. Let me… let's finish, yeah?" You eye him teasingly, eyebrows raised, "Something tells me you want to."
"You're a menace, you know that right? Always have been."
"Yeah, but you're into it, apparently." you stand on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear.
"Fuck. Fuck. Yeah." He gets out as you lick the water droplets up "Seeing you here every year. Highlight of my trip. Swear to God."
And as his soaked trunks hit the floor, the pair of you are both fully exposed standing under the running water together. Running your hand along his chest, playing with the tufts of hair there, you hook your finger though the thin chain hanging from his neck and pull him closer. "Steve." You whisper into his mouth.
"Yeah, whaddya need, honey?"
"You. God just, please fuck me. Okay?"
Clutching you close by the waist, he hikes your leg up and around his hip, reaching down along your ass to rub at your pussy from behind, working you up again. Almost teasing. The rock hard length of him is pressed up between your two tummies, begging to be paid attention to, so you break your bodies apart for just a second to angle him down, slipping if wetly between your lower lips - a mix of water and your hot dripping slick letting him slip through your folds.
A whimper slips out of your lips as his head catches your clit and he takes the opportunity to press into you, sounds something like a growl falling from his own lips at the feeling. Your mind is going blank, but the one thing you're sure of is that Steve Harrington's dick is huge. "Ohmigod, you're, bi- oh" you moan as he adds another few inches, moving slowly for you. "Fuck, you're huge. Jesus, Steve."
"Yeah? Biggest you ever had? God, tell me it's the biggest you've ever took."
"Shit" you hiss, as he bottoms out inside you, yelping out as you both finally meet at the base. "Yeah, shit. No one's ever been that fuckin deep, Steve. Holy shit."
"Fuck, yeah. I'm gonna move now, okay? You're good, right?" And you nod, enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically.
You've known Steve almost your whole life. You've played on playground swing sets growing up, rolled your eyes at his antics at your friends' parties in high school, cheered him on at basketball games and worked alongside him as lifeguards at the country club pool. You give him shit, he gives it back to you. You share comfortable silences and close friends. He's had your back in the face of monsters and raging fires… But right now, all that's on your mind is how he's pounding into your pussy in this shower and why this has never ever happened before in all these years. Because Jesus Christ, it's feeling euphoric.
The slapping of skin echoes loudly in the wooden and metal enclosure of the shower, bodies slick with water , hands gliding along your back and along your ass, keeping that knee hiked high for him, yours clutching the front of his shoulders and digging crescent moons into his skin. He's making noises, has he thrusts up into you at a bruising pace, hitting your cervix and making you cry out…but he's holding back all the same and all you want is him to let go a little more.
"Fuck, wait. Holy shit. Lemme just… " you drop your leg down and hear his small whine as he slips out of you, but you're quick to flip your body around, leaning forward and bracing yourself on the beams of the wooden door frame, shaking your ass at him in an invitation to get close to you again. "Wait. Wait… " you gasp out as you feel his tip nudge against your entrance from behind.
"What's wrong? Are you .. are you okay? I can stop." He gets out through heaving breaths.
"No. I'm good… but if you wanna finish me off, you gotta do one thing for me." Looking over your shoulder, giving him a playful but serious look.
"What'dya need. Honey. Anything. What do you want?" He holds his cock, pulsing and screaming to be let back inside your warm and velvety walls, dots of precome rinsed off by the droplets of water as fast as they emerge.
"Don't hold back. Just… .let me hear you. I wanna hear you. Talk to me. Don't shut up. And fuck - fuck me harder" you hiccup out.
"Yeah, yeah okay. I'll … I'll - fuck" he pushes in fully in one slide, no resistance from you in the least. "You wanna hear how good you make me feel huh? Always so cocky. Jesus."
His fingers are pressing into the tops of your thighs, purple mottled marks already blooming there under his fingertips as he pulls you backwards, spearing you on his cock, meeting him thrust for thrust. His other hand is wrapped around your waist, reaching for the soft of your belly, snaking up your chest until he finds your tits, nipples peaked with the chill of the air now that you're not directly under the stream of water. He runs his thumb along your nipples, giving them a playful flick back and forth before massaging them and pulling you up to meet him, back to chest.
In this position, you can drop yourself down as you meet his upward thrusts, bouncing on his cock and you feel his tip nudging a particular spot inside you that makes your walls constrict. "Oh honey, yeah? That's it. That's the spot isn't it?" And you can tell that has Steve's mind going off the deep end, making good on his promises to let you hear him, he's babbling, water splashing and raining down on you both, his grunts getting louder, and your name slipping off his lips in a whisper, like it belongs there.
Reaching back and around his neck, you turn so that you can see him and tilt his down to meet your gaze. Mouths both open, panting into one another, lips touching but never connecting because you can't quite sync up with the way you're both grinding on each other. "Jesus Christ, hnng fuck, I'm gonna… honey. Where do you want me? C'mon. Tell me."
You hear his sharp intake of a breath and feel his lips latch on to your throat, leaving sloppy kisses and sucking a bruise into it that you know you'll have to explain to your friends later. "Nnn-no. No. Not yet. I told you, lemme hear you. You're holding back I can tell."
"Oh-okay yeah. Gimme a sec. " He breathes through his nose taking in the scent of whatever vanilla soap you were using before he barreled in, maybe a little coconut still left over from your sunscreen, too. He exhales as his hand drifts down your front, settling over your mound and expertly finding your clit once again. He's rubbing figure eights, before sliding it between his two fingers, giving it pressure and pull from the sides as he continues to thrust into you from behind, bouncing you with very little effort because of how wet and slick you are from the shower.
"You're a fuckin' piece of work, you know that. Shit - taking me like this… fuck. " He growls out as he bends you forward fully now, holding you up by your chest as he rams into you. Leaning over just enough to get close to your ear he whispers in "Ya gonna let me come now? Fuck - ya gonna let me put it on your back? Huh? Your tits? Where do you wanna have it, honey?" He hisses as you grind your hips backwards and clench down hard on his shaft, squeezing on him and making his thrusts slow down, become more meticulous, more purposeful.
You're gasping in air and squeaking out noises of all kinds in time with his thrusts, telling him just how good he's making you feel between breaths. Just how deep he is hitting you. Just how much you wanna hear him when he comes. He's huffing out breaths and promising you things like next time as he's incoherently babbling praises at you as you ride back on his dick.
"You like when I talk about coming for you? You wanna have it, yeah?"
"Y-yeah I wanna. Inside. Do it inside, fuck!" You shout out, water from the showerhead beating on your back as his thrusts are jolting you forward where you're braced against the door. The janky little rusted metal latch holding on for dear life as he continues his pace, chasing his high and praying to God you let go with him.
He's feeling bold now that his brain is only chasing your orgasms. He groans the loudest moan you've heard from him this whole time as you feel him tense behind you, keeping up his movements but, just barely. His hips are stuttering and his hand falls down on your ass in a loud smack. "Ohhh shit. Honey. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about."
Your walls give him one last squeeze and you grip him tight, legs shaking under you as your orgasms rushes over your whole body. He has to hold you up as it rolls through your body, flashes going off behind your eyes as you cry out with pleasure. The pain from the smack to your ass being washed away with the cool of the water trickling over you.
It takes him only three firm thrusts more to fill you up, stuttering sounds falling from his lips. Incoherent blabbers and praises and gasps of your name spurting out along with his come.
You're both absolutely breathless, heaving chests and deep sighs filling the air while still connected to one another. Steve pulls you up slowly as he slips out of you, and spins you around. Still cradling your body and wrapping you into him, he pulls you both under the water to rinse off and come back down from wherever you both are floating off to right now. As you stand there swaying under the cascade, he brings his lips to your temple with a kiss as he mutters "I did mean it. I love seeing you here every year."
You hum along with him, because you do love seeing him too. You just never thought about it like this before. And now that you have, you're pretty sure it's the only way you can from here on out.
"We should probably get back down to the beach. I'm sure at least one of those nosey dipshits have noticed were both missing by now." Steve says against your skin.
"Yeah, yeah, you're right. But you are the one explaining these marks you left on me. I'm not saying a peep."
"Aw, c'mon sweetheart. You had a lot to say when I was in-"
"Stop that right now. If you wanna even think about doing this again, you're gonna stop right now." You roll your eyes at him while wrapping yourself with a towel and unlatching the door. As you back out and start up towards the house to grab a new swimsuit, he sees the grin on your face.
"Yeah, okay honey. Shutting my mouth now...so I'll definitely see ya later, then." He says with a wink, just as the door shuts and your left naked, wrapped up in Steve Harrington's towel with all your friends gathered round the grill out back making lunch watching you as you make your way around the path.
Eddie snarls a wide grin at you as he brings both thumbs up, his wife slapping his chest when she notices. "Hey Nance!" He yells out. "I think Harrington's got himself a new roommate for next trip!"
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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Joe Keery for WWD — August 2023
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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bring me a dream | eddie munson x reader
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summary: your best friend, eddie, stays the night at your place. and, well, he just can't resist you.
warnings: this is a dark fic. read at your own risk. 18+ for somnophilia, alcohol use, dubcon/noncon, fingering, oral sex. if any of this may trigger you, please do not continue reading.
a/n: hihiiii it's me again. ur boy blue. this is a re-upload from earlier this year, pls enjoy if this is your first time reading!
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It’s unfair how irresistible you are, nestled on the couch in your ratty Harley Davidson tee, hand curled around your glass of wine as you eye the television with obvious interest. Eddie sits uncomfortably beside you, his own glass of wine nearly empty minutes after pouring it – he’s been taking hasty sips to distract himself from the way your thigh is pressed up against his, your bare skin so warm it feels like you might burn right through his jeans. At this point, halfway through the random chick-flick he’d chosen for you at Family Video, he’s been fighting off a hard-on so long that it feels physically painful. He’s running out of boner-killer thoughts. Every time he tries to rewire his thinking, guide it away from the scent of your perfume and the soft swell of your tits beneath your shirt, he feels you shift closer to him. You’re practically on his lap now. 
God help him.
You interrupt the buzzing in his head with an exaggerated yawn, your arm stretching out in front of him as you readjust your position on the couch. He presses his lips together into a firm line, exhaling slowly through his nose when you quite literally crawl into his lap to reach the table beside him, sliding your wine glass onto the wood with caution. But then you’re off, body positioned on your respective couch cushion, leaving Eddie with a growing problem – literally.
He grabs a pillow and sets it into his lap.
“Wine’s putting me to sleep,” you murmur, voice thick with exhaustion. He might yawn just listening to you. “Wanna just finish this tomorrow?”
Honestly, Eddie hasn’t processed a single minute of the movie. He’s been staring blankly at the screen, sure, but the plot has gone in one ear and out the other. He nods. “Uh, sure. Yeah.”
“Thank god,” you sigh, shooting him a pleased grin before you stand up to turn the TV off. He watches you from the couch; the hem of your shorts disappears beneath your shirt, giving him a view that’s far too good to be true. He presses the pillow down into his lap even further. 
Eyes a little red and droopy, you stand by the hallway that leads to the staircase. “You’re sleeping over, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll sleep over,” Eddie responds with a tight smile. He’s definitely too tipsy to drive, his head spinning at the mere thought of getting behind the wheel. 
“Okay…” You shoot him a sideways glance, gesturing to the hall. “You gonna come up to bed, then?”
“In a minute. I’ll clean up down here, you can go ahead.”
He can see the gears turning in your head – you want to argue, tell him that this is your house and your best friend doesn’t owe it to you to do the dishes. But you seem to decide that you’re too tired to fight him on it, so you just shrug and yawn again. “Fine. Thanks, Ed.”
Responding with a polite “sure thing,” Eddie waits for you to disappear down the hall, the faint thumps of your feet padding up the stairs finally giving him the all-clear to stand up. He collects both glasses of wine, along with the empty bottle, and carries them to the kitchen. While he cleans the glasses in the sink, he thinks of you. Because of course he does.
You’ve been getting too close lately, and he’s not strong enough to take it. Though the two of you have been friends since high school, he can’t recall you ever being this touchy with him, this physically affectionate at any given moment. Sure, the two of you had exchanged hugs and even held hands a few times, but those passing moments had never felt this wrought with sexual tension. The past few times he’s come over to see you, you’ve hardly been dressed; in the past week alone, he’s seen the imprint of your hardened nipples against your shirt too many times to count. And those shorts – they’re tiny. So tiny, they may as well be underwear.
“Jesus,” Eddie finds himself muttering as he towel-dries the wine glasses, placing them upside down in the dish strainer to dry a little extra, just in case he missed a spot. He knows he’s being ridiculous. Nobody should be this horny from just sitting on the couch with a friend. But here he is.
When Eddie gets upstairs to your bedroom, he finds you asleep in the center of the bed, not even tucked under the sheets. He’s got a glass of water in his hands, intended to revive you a little, but it’s clear that you’re not waking up anytime soon. He walks over to your bedside table and places the glass on one of your coasters, his eyes flickering over to your sleeping form in the dim light of the room. 
That’s when you roll over on the mattress, body stretching as you turn your back towards him. You groan a little in your sleep, the sound ringing in Eddie’s ears. Torture. His eyes move along the curves of your sleeping body, down to your ass, where your shorts are pulled so high he can see just about everything. Pure torture.
Listen, Eddie’s not a bad guy. 
He’s a good friend. He buys you candy when he goes to the gas station before driving to your house, he pre-rolls joints for you to keep at home for when he’s not around. He listens to you rant about boy troubles and carries your groceries in for you. He’s got enough good karma stacked up to convince him that what he’s about to do is okay. That you’d be okay with it.
Your breathing is steady, rhythmic. He lowers himself onto the mattress, careful to watch your every move; you twitch when the bed dips under his weight, but you quickly get comfortable again and resume your peaceful slumber. Your chest rises and falls under your shirt, the hem of which he reaches out to grasp. His fingers skate over the skin beneath, a tantalizing sliver of your hip, and the pathetic remnants of his resolve are swept away like sand in the wind.
Eyes fixated on your face to watch for any signs of consciousness, Eddie works the t-shirt up over your torso until it rests loosely around your shoulders and your bare breasts are exposed. He’s like a teenager again, all shaky breaths and trembling hands, cock straining painfully in his jeans as he nearly drools at the sight of your pebbled nipples. 
He tells himself that he’ll stop here. That just seeing your tits is enough; that he can jerk off to the mental image when he takes a shower in a few minutes.
But god, it really is torture – looking and not touching. 
Eddie swallows the growing lump in his throat.
His hands make contact with your breasts. They’re so soft, so perfectly sized for his palms. The sensation of his thumbs dragging over your nipples is enough to have you sighing in your sleep, body tensing and arching into his touch subconsciously. You react to him so naturally, even asleep; he can’t find it in him to feel guilty about this anymore, because clearly, you want it. So he lets his hand wander more, calloused fingertips smoothing over the soft edges of your body, every inch of your skin he can come into contact with. He’s breathing heavier now, hands nearing the elastic waistband of your shorts, his thick fingers dipping under. 
And of course you’re not wearing any underwear. He’s not surprised. His hand moves lower but pauses briefly when you seem to stir a bit; he watches you with dark eyes, pupils blown out in every direction and swallowing his irises whole. You go still again and that’s all he needs before he’s swiping a finger through your folds, jaw clenching hard when he finds your cunt soaked for him. If there were still glimmers of doubt lurking within him, they vanish at the sensation of your drooling entrance – the evidence that you want this just as much as he does. 
“Shit,” he whispers, low enough to leave you undisturbed, and he slowly works a finger into the pulsing heat of your cunt. You sigh again, the sound gentle and airy and so blindingly sexy that he can feel precum leaking from his cock, making a mess of the inside of his boxers. He readjusts himself on the bed, bringing his hips against the mattress, hips rocking in slow motions to grant himself some much-needed friction. 
He’s dying to come, to paint your insides the way he’s imagined almost every night for god knows how long. But he wants you to feel good. Even if it’s in your sleep. Even if you won’t know it’s him. Even if you’d be mortified to see him like this, tongue poking between his lips in concentration while he thrusts his lone finger into your dripping pussy. 
“You’re so pretty,” Eddie mutters, “so goddamn pretty, baby, and so wet.” 
Your head lolls to the side, cheek pressed against your shoulder. Another thick, ringed finger prods at your entrance and your cunt sucks it right in, pulsing around your best friend’s touch as he ups his pace, prompting a slow crescendo of filthy, wet sounds. His eyes roll back into his skull and they’re nearly stuck there when you moan in your sleep – a true, genuine moan. One that suggests you might be awake. Eddie grunts, fingers still fucking into you in quick, repetitive motions, eyes rising to appraise your still-sleeping face. The tiny wrinkles between your brows. The slight part of your lips. 
When he realizes that you’re not awake, he really fucking loses it. 
What else can he get away with? He considers all the things he could do to you tonight: mark you with a watercolor palette of purples and blues and reds, slip his cock into your desperate cunt, tongue the tight ring of your ass, suck your nipples until they bleed. He’s sure you’d sleep through all of it, now that he’s been working you towards an orgasm for quite some time, and all you’ve done is part those pretty lips and moan. 
Fuck it, he thinks. Fuck it all. He’s always wanted to taste you and now’s as good a time as any. With far less precision than he might’ve had before he’d started fingering you (and before you’d started enjoying it, unconscious as you were), Eddie grips the elastic waistband of your shorts and works them down your legs. The sight of your bare cunt makes his cock twitch, desperate to feel your heat enveloping him; he’d do it, too, if your arousal-slick cunt didn’t look so delicious. But it does. His mouth waters. 
Consciousness creeps up on you slowly. It’s like you’re submerged in thick, warm molasses, body suspended in a comforting haze. Pleasure builds in your lower half and you revel in it, mind still foggy; you lie suspended in what feels like heaven for an eternity before your senses finally sharpen. First, you can hear the quiet schlicks of Eddie’s tongue working over your clit, his fingers fucking into you quickly. Then, you can feel the warmth building in your gut; Eddie’s mouth suckles at your drenched cunt and every touch is like a live wire, shooting pleasure through your every vein. You can smell the scent of your own sex in the air. And finally, when your heavy eyelids open and your gaze lands on the person between your legs, you see Eddie there, mouth latched onto your needy pussy, his eyes trained right up at your face. You swear you can see the corners of his lips curl upward. 
“Wh–huh?” You blink a few times, vision blurry. Your mouth is dry from the wine. “Eddie?”
“Mmh,” Eddie moans against your heat, his tongue tracing up the wet seam of your cunt until your hips jerk upwards involuntarily. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”
You can tell from the sparks of pleasure simmering between your hips that he’s been doing this for a while. That, and the way his cheeks shine with wetness. He watches you from beneath his lashes, his unruly hair tickling at the insides of your thighs. 
“B-but,” you gasp, trying to blink away the exhaustion that encourages your eyes to shut again. “Why are you–what are you–”
“Just relax,” Eddie mutters, “You’re okay. ‘M just making you feel good.”
He presses his flushed, plump lips against the sensitive mound of your clit, still smiling–no, smirking at you. His tongue darts out and traces a careful circle around the bundle of nerves. Your eyes fall shut and your breathing stutters; Eddie doesn’t slow the relentless assault of his fingers in your soaked, constricting hole. If anything, he goes faster. Maybe he’s thrilled that he’s been caught. 
You lie back and give in, body limp against the plush mattress. Your cream and pink polka-dotted sheets. The knit blanket Eddie had bought you ages ago. It’s hard to breathe when he’s doing this, working you to the very edge with his eager mouth and fingers, overwhelming you with pleasure until you’re dizzy with it. It builds and builds and builds, a riot of hot and cold and too much and not enough, until the pressure finally erupts. You’re too tired to react much, too groggy to cry out; all you can do is shiver as your orgasm tears right through you and leaves you a hundred times more exhausted than you already were. Your limbs feel numb. Everything is numb.
You’re about to slip back into unconsciousness, fucked-out and confused, but you stir again at the tinny sound of Eddie unbuckling his belt. Forcing your eyes open, you watch from the soft embrace of your pillow as Eddie rises from the mattress; his gaze is steady on your outstretched body as he pulls his cock from his boxers. Even in your half-asleep state, you find yourself wondering if he’s really going to try to fit that inside you.
“S’okay, angel,” Eddie says. He climbs onto the bed, palm closing around your knee to encourage your legs to spread. “Get some rest. You’re safe. ‘M just gonna use you, yeah?”
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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Hello! Can I request oneshot with Eddie and virgin reader?
Something like when they're talking casually and she confesses that she feels so insecure about being virgin at her age (22) when everyone she knows has boyfriends/girlfriends and had first sex a long time ago. But she hasn't even kissed anyone and she doesn't know how it works.
(She has also a big crush on Eddie but she's shy about it)
How do you think Eddie would react?
It's so personal for me but if you're not comfortable with this idea it's okay ☺️
Thank you for your time!
hi! sorry for how long it took! I didn't want to write something too too similar to Eddie's Notes, so it took me a minute to think something up, hope thats okay!
also this is my first request!! thank you! I hope you like it :)
it's not too explicit but 18+ only please!
wc: 2.4k+
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“How much do you wanna bet they’ll be fucking within the hour?” Eddie whispers, leaning in close enough for you to hear him.
“Huh?” you reply, catching Eddie’s gaze. He nods back to the couple you’ve both been sparring glances at ever since you sat down.
You and Eddie stopped at the diner to get late dinner after hanging out with the group at Steve’s house. He was just going to drive you home, but he insisted he was starving and you both had to stop for food. You’re not complaining, you’ve always had quite the soft spot for Eddie and more time with him is always welcomed.
You both sat at the back of the diner on the same side of the booth as Eddie insisted it was the best spot for people watching. Sitting in the other back corner of the restaurant was some girl you hardly recognized from high school and a guy who you assumed was her date.
To you, it looked innocent. They both sat on the same side of the booth, probably doing the same thing you and Eddie were doing. Their shoulders were just barely touching and they were making quick, shy glances at one another. To you, you thought that maybe it was a first date due to their nervousness, so for Eddie to think they’ll be fucking within the hour… you couldn’t help but look at him in pure confusion. 
“His hand’s been on her thigh the whole night and she’s been slowly inching it up, see,” he explains in a low voice, motioning down to under their table. You spare another glance and just as he said, their hands are just nearing the hem of her skirt. 
“I didn’t notice,” you say quietly, refocusing your attention on your food, picking at your fries.
To you, they looked innocent. You thought their nervousness was because it was a first date. What a stupid thing to think.
“Look, look,” Eddie says excitedly, leaning further into you, laying his arm across the back of the booth. You glance over as the guy's hand fully travels under the girl’s skirt. 
“Eddie, I can't watch that,” you say, turning away out of embarrassment for yourself and the couple.
“What’s wrong? Never fooled around in public before?” he teases, his arm behind you coming forward just enough to nudge your shoulder.
“No,” you say quietly, throwing down the fry you’ve been swirling around on your plate before crossing your arms over your chest. 
“What?” he laughs and you shrug. 
No, you haven’t fooled around in public. You haven’t fooled around, full stop. Not even a kiss. Not even a hand hold. Not in public nor in private. Nothing. 
“You’re telling me you haven’t gone on a date and the guy hasn’t gotten a little handsy with you?” Eddie teases further.
You’d have to go on dates for someone to get handsy with you. You shrug again, just faintly shaking your head. You turn your face away from Eddie only to be met with the sight of the guy's hand all the way up the girl's skirt— something you really don’t want to see. You redirect your gaze forward, having nowhere else to look at this point. 
“I don’t believe you,” he laughs, hand nudging your shoulder again. You shrug again, sighing heavily. 
“Eddie. I don’t go on dates,” you say, flatly. 
“Me neither really. I guess, it’s kind of an old school thing,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. He clearly doesn’t understand what you mean. You brave a glance at Eddie. You like him. You have for a while.
“Eddie, can I tell you something really embarrassing?”
He sets his drink down, and while you go back to avoiding his gaze, you can tell he’s making every attempt to meet yours. You look at him for a split second before looking down at the table once again.
“Yeah, of course,” he says quietly. You can feel his hand grazing your shoulder, fingers just barely brushing over your skin. As nervous and embarrassed as you are to say what you’re about to say, his light, gentle contact is sort of relaxing, soothing in a way. Eddie’s always been kind, you know he won’t be mean about it, that’s just not in his nature, but it’s still something you’re insecure about. 
“I don’t go on dates, or do anything like that,” you say, nodding your head over to the couple. His eyebrows raise before he relaxes into a light laugh, like he expected you to say something different maybe. 
“Okay… not everyone’s into public stuff, it’s fine,” he smiles. His hand settles completely on your shoulder and that gives you the courage to just blurt it all out. 
“I’m a virgin, Eddie,” you say, hushing your voice. 
“Oh?” he says, in a short sort of quiet gasp. If you thought he expected you to say something else earlier, you can tell that he really didn’t expect you to say that.
“Yeah,” you hum, hoping he’ll give you some other reaction other than his blank stare.
“Oh,” he says again, his eyes shifting down to your crossed arms before back up to meet your gaze. You cower under his look, regretting saying anything. 
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It’s so embarrassing.” You say, shifting in the seat, not sure if you want to get up and leave or just hope that the earth opens up and swallows you whole. Eddie’s hand on your shoulder grows more firm, keeping you still.
“No— no. I’m just... I didn’t know. Is it… like, on purpose?” he asks tentatively, keeping his tone soft.
“No,” you answer, shrinking into yourself as the burning from your cheeks turns into your whole body lighting aflame. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning into you, his hand on your shoulder pulling you in closer to him at the same time. 
The couple draw both yours and Eddie’s attention as the girl giggles loudly. When you look over at them, they’re both quickly shuffling out of their booth. The guy wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a kiss before taking her hand and guiding her out of the restaurant. It makes your stomach sink because that’s exactly what you’ve never had and it’s mocking you right to your face. 
“It’s not okay, Eddie, it’s embarrassing. Like, that—” you say, motioning to the direction that the couple just left in. “That’s what normal people my age do. Everyone’s had relationships and I haven’t done anything,” you say hastily, feeling entirely too fed up with yourself for being in this situation. It’s hard to not be upset with yourself when people around you are constantly reminding you how behind you are, even without them knowing it. 
Eddie squeezes your shoulder lightly. “I think you forget who you’re talking to right now,” he laughs.
“Eddie, you’re not a virgin,” you state.
“No, but I was. For a long time. Nobody was exactly lining up to get with the satanic super senior freak,” he says, adding emphasis to the names he’s been called over the years. You know he’s just saying this stuff to make you feel better about yourself, and it makes you feel worse. He shouldn’t have to put himself down. Eddie’s the best and it’s not fair for him to do that. 
“Yeah, but you’re not a ‘satanic super senior freak’. You’re cool, you’re in a band, you’re attractive. So many people would be lucky to be with you. It's different, you’re hot and funny— and you’re not 22 years old and still a virgin,” you blurt out, squeezing your folded arms over your chest harder. You shift in your seat again, contemplating getting up, but Eddie’s hand on your shoulder pulls you in even closer to him until your shoulder meets the edge of his chest and your hip meets his.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’m not judging you, you’re fine,” he says, softly.
“But—”
“I’m serious. If that experience hasn’t happened yet, it’s no big deal.”
You deflate into yourself, feeling the embarrassment burn hot inside of you. Eddie shifts, facing you but you keep your head down, avoiding his gaze. His free hand landing on your thigh startles you, making you look up at him in surprise. You’re met with a soft smile, like he knew that would get your attention. 
“You know, you’re attractive too. Very pretty. Just because some idiot hasn’t made the moves on you yet, doesn’t mean you aren’t.”
“Don’t say stuff just to be nice,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat for an entirely different reason. 
“I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re smart, and funny, and I like being around you,” he says, leaning in even closer, close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek.
“Eddie, I haven’t even kissed someone before,” you say, turning to him abruptly. You're nearly nose to nose with him, and it makes your heart beat too fast. You pull back a few inches, looking at Eddie but his gaze stays low on your face.
“Is it a bad time for me to say I’ve been dying to kiss you?” he asks, eyes still lingering low, and you suddenly realize it’s your lips he’s focusing on.
“What?” you say, your brows pinching in confusion. 
“I want to kiss you,” he repeats with clarity, eyes meeting yours. You shake your head, surely this is a joke. 
“Stop making fun of me,” you huff, uncrossing your arms. You put your hand over Eddie’s to pry it from your thigh. He let’s go, taking your hand in his instead, making you stop dead in your tracks.
“Why do you think I brought you here? Why do you think we’re sitting in the back of the diner?” he says, raising his brows. “And it’s not just because I wanted to spy on the couple who was practically fucking back here.”
“I don’t know.” 
“Because I’ve been dying to kiss you. It’s awfully hard to get you alone, you know?” he says. He smiles at you softly, squeezing your hand in his. Your stomach flutters. You’ve thought about this moment, wanted it so badly— yet something inside of you still holds you back. 
“I don’t know how,” you say, feeling flustered. He squeezes your hand, dipping his face to meet your gaze.
“It’s easy, just come closer,” he whispers. You do as he says and he hums lowly. His hand on your shoulder moves to the back of your head, keeping you moving into him at a steady pace and he inches forward, meeting you in the middle. 
You let your eyes flutter shut, and you feel his lips on yours, light as a feather. He presses into you more firmly, and when his lips start to move, you freeze up, not knowing what to do. His hand on the back of your head moves to your neck, caressing you softly— like an encouragement. He slows down and you take the leap, following his lead. You match his pace, moving your lips like he does, copying the movements, and he hums again— like a praise this time. 
“Easy, isn’t it?” he says, just barely moving away from your lips. 
“Yeah,” you agree breathily, feeling like your whole body is tingling. 
“You’re a natural,” he says. You feel his breath against your lips and you don’t know if you want to run away or lean in for more. He doesn’t give you the chance either way before he’s tugging you closer to his chest so your head rests on his shoulder. His hand guides you to look up at him.
“I like you for you. Not the experiences you have or haven’t had,” he says, meeting your gaze. His words make your stomach explode with butterflies but your head stops you from letting yourself believe his sentiment. 
“Don’t you think it’s embarrassing though?” you ask.
“Would you think it was embarrassing if it were the other way around? Would you like me less if I were a virgin?”
“No,” you reply honestly. You would never like Eddie less for something superficial like that. The way he looks at you so softly is a testament to how good he is, you wouldn’t like him any less even if he were a virgin. 
“Things happen at different times for people. I’m sure you’ve done all kinds of things I haven’t done before… like graduating on your first try,” he says with a smirk.
“Don’t put yourself down just to make me feel better,” you say, leaning further up towards him, squinting your eyes into a glare so he knows you’re serious. 
He laughs at you, nodding his head gently before continuing.“I’m just saying, sex isn’t the end all be all of who you are. Not to sound preachy, but it’s only embarrassing if you let it embarrass you— and it shouldn’t. At all. Ever,” he emphasizes, rubbing his hand against your side. His lips quirk up into a smirk—one you’re familiar with and know that it typically means he’s up to no good. “And if you ever want to not be a virgin, I’m right here,” he says, digging his fingers into your ribs, making you laugh. 
It was a joke— him being there if you ever wanted to not be a virgin, but then it was the truth. When Eddie drove you home, he helped you brush up on your kissing skills. Right before you went inside for the night, he asked you on a date. 
While it didn’t happen that night or even that week, it did happen eventually. And when it did, Eddie was slow with you. He was patient with you, and made sure you were comfortable the whole time. You’ve always heard the romanticized versions of people losing their virginity, and how it was so perfect, and this or that, but with Eddie, it really was. He was someone you cared for and trusted and that’s what made it perfect. 
He quelled all your negative thoughts. He made sure you knew that your sex life didn’t dictate who you were. What experiences you had or didn’t have doesn’t make you or break you.
He took you on a date, he kissed you, held your hand, held you. He took you on more dates, called you his, did all the things you dreamt about— the things you were worried you would never get. 
Everything you hadn’t done, you did with Eddie. For a long time you thought you were missing out. In some ways, maybe you were, but if you had to choose, you’d do it all over again exactly the same, as long as you’d get to do it all over again with Eddie. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
thank you again!
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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JOE KEERY for WWD, 2023
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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fuck reality, think about waking up with eddie's mouth latched onto your nipple 🥰
Compliments
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, drug use (weed)
You wake up to a sensation that has your hips bucking upwards and your hand reaching up, fingers tangling into messy, curly hair.
“Mmmfuck,” you mumble into the darkness. Eddie Munson releases your nipple from his mouth with a wet pop.
“Nice to see you, too, sweetheart.”
His weight is warm and heavy on top of your body in the best way with your sleep shirt pushed up under your shoulders to expose your chest. You pull him in further against you and breathe in the scent of leather and minty gum and smoke and weed, layered over his sandalwood shampoo.
“Eddieeee,” you let out as a happy whine. He chuckles darkly in response and kisses down your neck back to the valley between your breasts.
“Babyyyy,” he whines back as a mimicking response. He’s further down the bed, his lower half humps the mattress where it rests between your spread legs. “Gonna give it to you real good, no need to get all whiny on me princess.”
You laugh at that and it comes out breathy. Eddie had been out all night at band practice, so you’d laid down for a little nap while waiting for him. You massage the delicate skin beneath his ear as he presses a kiss to one of your nipples and then the other.
“Always take care of my girls, don’t I?” he says to your breasts before sucking on one of your nipples again. You gasp and pull at his hair again, making him hum against you. “Mmmm yeah I do. But I do play favorites, don’t I, kitty?”
He slides a hand down your abdomen to press under the waistband of your panties. His fingers swirl in the gathered slick as he shuts his lids over rolling eyes.
“She’s been waiting for me, huh?”
“Eddie…” you giggle.
“Shhh, kitty’s talking to me right now, baby,” he hushes, smiling wide at the wet sounds coming from your pussy as he slides his fingers deep inside. You want to chide him for being silly, but he crooks his finger to press at that sweet spot and you’re gasping.
“Ohhh kitty’s been waiting for me like a good girl. Like a good, drooling girl,” Eddie coos, making sure to press circles into your clit with the heel of his palm. You can’t keep from laughing.
“How high are you, Munson?” you ask and he shrugs.
“Only one joint in, baby. Saving the rest for you,” he replies, smoothly reaching his freehand to pull a join out of his back pocket.
“So one joint and you’re having full conversations with my cunt?” you tease, plucking the joint from his fingers and putting it between your lips. He tsks disapprovingly while you pick up the lighter from your bedside table and strike it.
“Her name is kitty, and you need to treat her right,” Eddie admonishes. You roll your eyes but your hips buck of their own accord when he leans down and kisses your clit. Eddie grins up at you from between your legs. “She says your fingers are too small and you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Shut up,” you moan, nudging your knee against his shoulder. He pins your leg down and begins licking gently at your opening, taking his time and stopping often to place many wet kisses to the juncture of your hip and thigh. Meanwhile you light the joint and inhale deeply.
After you’ve taken a third hit - you’ve gotta catch up to him of course - you melt back against the pillows with a sigh, beginning to feel real relaxation set on. Eddie looks up from between your thighs again, your slick on his pretty lips.
“Gonna share, princess?” He asks, reaching out with his free hand. You shrug.
“Gonna start complimenting me instead of my cunt?”
Eddie leans up and swipes the joint from your fingers, leaving you dissolving into giggles. He watches you as his cheeks hollow and he inhales, blowing the smoke away from.
“My baby’s feeling neglected?” he asks teasingly.
“No…” you say but your smile is growing as your high begins to set in.
“If you want compliments, I can give you compliments, princess. Unlike you, kitty is patient.”
You scoff at him, but he quickly reaches up and puts the joint on the ashtray on your bedside table before grabbing you by the backs of your thighs. You squeal at being pulled further down the bed, eyes going wide at Eddie moving up to settle on top of you, lap cradled against your exposed pelvis.
“You are the most beautiful…” he stops to kiss one cheek, “loveliest…” kiss to the other cheek, “most spoiled girl in the world.”
“Hey!” you try to say but he reaches down and places two fingers back deep inside of you, making you gasp at the end of the word. He watches your face intently. Drinks in your pleasure.
“C’mon baby, give me what I want,” he says quietly, forehead against yours. His thumb is on your clit and you’re dizzy.
“Yeah of course. Fuck me,” you oblige. Eddie shakes his head, his nose rubbing against yours in the process.
“Sweetheart, that’s not what I want,” he chuckles. “Well yeah, eventually. But right now I want you to cum. Can you do that for me?”
“Wanna cum for you, Eds,” you nod. He begins nodding along with you.
“Gonna cum for me, princess?”
“Mmmyeah.”
“Mmmm fuck yeah,” Eddie groans as he feels your walls tighten around his fingers. Your face scrunches up in pleasure and he beams watching you. “So fucking sexy.”
You cum on his fingers, as requested, writhing in his arms. Eddie holds you through it, stroking your thigh and whispering into your neck.
“That’s it, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it? Ohhhh I know it does.”
When your mind finally clears and your muscles melt into a numb puddle, you look up to find Eddie, the picture of ease sitting in front of you with your spread thighs still slung over the tops of his. He’d retrieved and relit the joint. He watches you over it as he takes a long, deep hit, his cheeks hollowing, as his other hand fists lazily over his swollen cock, now pulled out of his sweatpants.
“Well aren’t you a pretty picture,” he says with a crooked smile.
“Thanks,” you hum, preening under his gaze. Eddie’s smile turns wolfish as he lifts his cock and drops it so that the underside lands heavy over your wet slit.
“I was talking to kitty, but you sure are pretty, too, princess.”
~*~
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Thank you for reading, please reblog and comment to let me know what you thought!!
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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Simmer #7
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CH7. Spice Box | The Menu [4.1K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Eddie held the door open for you as you approached the trailer, hand waving you in as he smiled, shy. 
The trailer was tidier than you’d ever seen it before, a valiant effort made in anticipation for your arrival. The usual piles of washed laundry were moved from the dining booth bench, the ashtrays moved from the living room coffee tables. The trailer was unusually quiet, smelling like mountain cedar, if the can of air freshener on Wayne’s armchair was anything to go by. 
You did your usual, despite the way you felt like you were there for the first time. For a first date. But you toed off your shoes by the door and lingered in the kitchen, fingers twisting together as you wondered what came next. This? This part was new, this was different. 
Eddie smiled shyly as he followed behind, hands skimming your shoulders as he squeezed past you and the counter, opening the fridge. The white-yellow glow filled the room, clashing with the pink sunset that came in from the living room blinds. 
“Okay, what are you feelin’?” Eddie said into the refrigerator, his fingers tapping on the door. “We got stuff for omelettes, I could do pasta, oh, hey, I make a mean gnocchi.” Eddie emerged with a quart of pesto, wiggling one of the diners' plastic containers at you. 
You smiled, shrugging easily because you’d be happy with some toast if it meant Eddie kept looking at you like that. You leaned against the dining table edge, lips pressed together and trying your hardest to keep it together. Eddie looked too pretty in the sunlight, that peachy pink golden flow, the last rays turning his brown eyes the colour of caramel as he looked at you. 
“I don’t mind,” you told him softly, “anything you make will be good.”
Eddie grinned, bashful, cheeks pink and he held his hand out to you, coaxing you into holding onto his fingers so he could tug you forward. You were supposed to look in the fridge too, check out the mountains of fresh ingredients he liked to pack into it, the tubs of homemade sauces and pickled veg. But instead, you stumbled into the boy, socked feet touching his boots, knees bumping. 
It was awkward in an innocent way, your smile shy and matching Eddie’s, his faltering a little when he realised how close you were. His hand held yours a little tighter and when he realised you weren’t moving away, well shit, he didn’t bother to either. His fingers twisted in yours, thumb running over the backs of your knuckles and he swallowed hard as he looked down at you. 
“Uh, we could, uh, I could make some lasagna. Or, or a stir fry?” Eddie stumbled over his words, brows furrowed in concentration as he studied each part of your face. The line of your nose, the fan of your lashes, the curve of your lip. “If you want. I don’t, I don’t mind cookin’ whatever.”
You felt bolder than ever when you let your hand slip from Eddie’s and climb up his forearm, finger wrapping around the cords of muscle there, thumb rubbing at the sensitive skin on the inside crook of his elbow. It made the boy still, lips parting in surprise. It felt nice to be this close, chests almost touching, Eddie’s hand falling to hold your waist instead, fingertips pushed to the soft cotton of your sundress. 
“I’m not, I’m not really all that hungry, right now,” you told him softly. You were nervous, wondering if this was supposed to happen this way. If this was supposed to happen this soon. But you couldn’t bring yourself to step away. 
The refrigerator door was still open. 
Eddie nodded, agreeing. “Yeah, sure. No, same. We can eat later, if you want.” You watched his Adam’s apple bob, felt his fingers squeeze a little tighter at the plush of your hips. “How’s your head feelin’?”
You smiled at his concern and met his gaze. This much eye contact wasn’t all that surprising but the fact you hadn’t been interrupted yet by someone yelling about hot dog bugs or asking where the napkin refills were was. “It’s fine,” you promised him. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”
A lie, it was a little tender. But definitely no concussion. You’d iced it when you’d gotten home but for a shorter time than you should’ve, too preoccupied with the idea of jumping into a warm shower and shaving every inch of your leg in preparation for your date. If anything, the idea of spending time alone with Eddie was what had your head spinning. 
“Good,” Eddie nodded and you could see him thinking, too much, before he sucked in a quiet breath and lifted a hand to cup the back of your neck. His hand was big enough that it curled all the way round, his thumb tucked into the space under your ear, right along your jaw. You wondered if he could feel your pulse - he probably could. You wondered if he could feel that way it was fucking racing. “Doesn’t hurt, if I do this?”
You were scared to move, worried if you shook your head it would break the spell, scared that Eddie would stop touching you. So you whispered instead, one word on a shaky breath that made Eddie’s eyes get a little wider. “No.”
Eddie pushed his thumb to your jaw a little firmer, suddenly not as worried about touching you, holding you now like you wouldn’t shatter underneath him. “So this is okay?” He whispered back and oh my god, it was more than okay, it was exactly what you wanted and you were still in the middle of his kitchen with the refrigerator light casting over your socks, your shins. 
You licked your lips and gave a small nod, eyes trained on his mouth and you heard the boy suck in a breath. “Yeah, it’s okay.” You swallowed, throat bobbing and Eddie felt it under his hand, the movement making him dizzy. “More than okay.”
His thumb moved up, skimming over the apple of your cheek, fingers fanning out over the side of your neck until they were pushing into your hairline and pulling goosebumps from your skin. You didn’t realise you were both walking you backwards until your hips hit the counter. It was a soft bump, everything Eddie did was gentle and his eyes were watching yours the entire time, searching for any hesitation. 
It’d been a while since he’d been in a situation like this, but he was pretty fucking positive there was none there. 
You confirmed his thoughts by clinging to the front of his shirt, fingertips tugging the material so he’d take the hint and move closer, meeting his chest with yours and it was as much of a first move as you could manage. Shyness still swallowed you, your heart beating embarrassingly fast and all you wanted to do was push up onto your toes and press your lips to Eddie’s but if he rejected you now - for whatever reason - you think you’d have to quit your job and move back to Chicago. 
Your back was against the worktop edge, softened only by the way Eddie let his other hand cup your hip and your chest was against his, chin tilted up to look at him, eyes half lidded and matching his own. You could see every freckle, the fan of his lashes, a tiny silver scar on the left corner of his bottom lip that you’d never noticed before. You wondered if he was close enough to feel the heat from your face, the way your bones must’ve been rattling from the thunder of your heartbeat. 
It was delicious, the way he crowded you, thumb pushing into your cheek so you’d tilt your head up for him, noses almost brushing now, just waiting for something to give. It had been two months of working alongside Eddie Munson, two months of being his friend, learning how he worked, what each of his smiles meant, how lucky you were to receive one. 
Two months of wondering how much longer it would take until he would kiss you. 
He licked his bottom lip, tongue peeking out just slightly, eyes studying every move you made, so hesitate, so unsure, as if the way you were pressing yourself against him wasn’t enough of a clue. “We could, uh,” Eddie cleared his throat, nervous. His hand was squeezing the dough of your hip over your dress, the soft material bunching in his palm. “We could watch a movie, if you wanted.”
He said it so distractedly that you were sure the boy didn’t actually know what he was asking. Eddie’s pupils were blown wide, eyes dark, a familiar sight except there wasn’t the haze of smoke between you both now. You smiled, nervous and shy and giddy and brave all at once. 
“I don’t wanna watch a movie, Eddie,” you breathed and out and the boy folded, the boy melted like butter under the hot sun and you saw his brows draw together, his tense shoulders fall in relief and then he was nodding, eyes on your mouth and moving closer and closer—
“Oh, thank fuck,” he sighed in return, pushing into you in a rush, his lips crashing to yours before he even finished talking. 
 It felt like kismet, that first kiss. It felt like it was supposed to happen, because after your heart soared and your stomach somersaulted, Eddie moved his head one way and tilted yours the other, drawing him closer still with your fingers hooked into the collar of his T-shirt. He made the softest noise, nose pushed to your cheek, his thumb dragging over the corner of your mouth and when you gasped for him, his tongue touched your bottom lip, a silent question. 
More?
You parted your lips for him, kiss deepening, Eddie’s hand on your waist gripping you tighter as your tongue licked over his and you couldn’t remember when kissing someone felt like this. It felt like a summer heatwave, like someone taking care of you, it felt like a bowl of the most perfect food pushed in front of you, like cracking your fucking head off a table and watching the world spin. 
There wasn’t any noise in the trailer except for the hum of the still open fridge door and the soft, breathy sounds from both of you. A sigh, a gasp, a muted groan. It was easy to get caught up in it, no one to interrupt, a whole evening, just for you two. It was a long time coming, a simmering pot, finally bubbling over and when you let out a little moan when Eddie’s hand trailed from your jaw down to your neck, fingers splayed over your throat, the boy pulled back to pant heavily and swear. 
Any shyness you’d ever felt was gone with the way he was looking at you, curls falling across flushed cheeks, lips swollen and probably a matching yours. You reached for him, desperate, your hands tangling into his hair as you tried not to pout. “Don’t stop. Please, Eddie,” you whispered and your voice cracked with need and god, it made Eddie’s eyes stutter shut, jaw dropping before tensing. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he was whispering, moving back to you with an eagerness that was almost overwhelming. 
You thought he was going to kiss you again, but he ducked just slightly and you squeaked when you felt his palms, warm and calloused and so fucking big, wrap around the backs of your thighs. He hauled you up, setting you on the edge of the kitchen counter so you were at his height and both of you ignored the angry squeal of the coffee container, the bread bin and mug stand as your body pushed them out of the way. A new pace was set now and Eddie’s mouth was back on yours before you could ask. 
A desperate, messy kind of kiss, deep and longing and all tongues and teeth. The boy nipped at your bottom lip, groaned when you whined and you didn’t even think twice about bringing your legs up to his hips, caging him in and pulling him against you until you felt the scratch of denim again the cotton of your underwear. 
It should’ve been too much too fast, it should’ve. 
But it wasn’t. 
“This okay?” Eddie asked you breathlessly, words gasped between kisses. He pulled back just slightly, hands cupping your hot cheeks, thumbs soothing over the apples of them. His forehead pressed against yours, a grounding touch. “We don’t have to— just tell me if you wanna stop, yeah?”
You nodded, eyes fluttering shut because you were already pulling him back to you and Eddie followed willingly, one hand dropping to your knee, coasting upupup until he was squeezing at the dough of your thigh and groaning into your open mouth. You felt like a couple of teenagers, making out somewhere you weren’t supposed to, getting felt up by your crush in his parents kitchen. It made you dizzy, it made you wet, embarrassingly so. A dirty, hot throb that wrecked your body and lit up, electric, every time Eddie touched you somewhere new. 
He didn’t go any higher, his hand stayed there, respectful as he could be when you were kissing him like you didn’t ever want to stop. A few inches below the hem of your dress, practically a gentleman, but his tongue was doing wonderful things against yours and when you rocked yourself a little, using your arms around his neck to press yourself against him, Eddie’s own hips canted forward and he moaned.  
It made it easier to drop his other hand from your neck, fingertips skimming just along the curve of your breast before he was dripping your waist and pulling you into him. It wasn’t the best place to be grinding against each other, not when the sofa and his bed were both so close by. But the height of the counter made for the perfect kind of friction and it was dizzying being so close, to be so wrapped up in Eddie. He smelled the same, like lemongrass and smoke and a little bit of cologne. 
And when you gripped his curls a little tighter than before and tugged, Eddie fucking whined into your open mouth, barely kissing, just panting into each other's lips and his gentlemanly touch on you wavered. His hand skirted up, fingers sliding under the hem of your red dress and when they skimmed over the elastic edge of your underwear, he was swearing, eyes squeezing shut tighter and raking his blunt nails back down your thigh.
You shuddered, ripping away from Eddie’s lips to suck in a breath but the boy only moved to your neck and you keened at the touch, opened mouth kisses along the line of your throat, his tongue peeking out to lick across your skin, teeth grazing and fiu let him, head thrown back until the already tender spot hir against the kitchen cabinets. 
It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. 
Not when Eddie was dragging his fingers across the neckline of your dress, pushing your sleeve out of the way to expose your shoulders, kissing and sucking at the crook of your neck, mouthing his way down your chest, no bra straps to get in his way. You sighed, the sound coming out with the letters of his name, a noise that made him groan aloud and fuse his lips back to yours, your fingers splayed out over his jaw so you could keep him there. 
You were on fire. It was hotter than being in the kitchen. The simmering pot was spilling over now, the flames were licking higher and the lid of it was crashing to the floor, jolting you back to reality. 
You pulled back, sucking in air, eyes unfocused and the world was spinning too fast and god you just needed to—   
“We should slow down,” Eddie gasped, sounding as wrecked as you felt. His hands were still on you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath, two hands smoothing up and down your thighs. “Fuck, you’re— that was—”
“Yeah,” you agreed and god you sounded drunk. “I know.”
You tried to diffuse the heat, tried to turn down the flame so everything went back down to a simmer, smiling softly as if the kitchen was on metaphorical fire and Eddie wasn’t harder than he’d ever been in his life. “Umm, do you, d’you wanna eat now?”
Eddie laughed into your neck, cheeks flushed rosy pink and he was hot all over, breathless and the happiest he’d been in a long time. He hummed, nodding before he pulled back, dotting a kiss to your lips, much more chaste than before. He couldn’t help himself, placed another on your cheek, your jaw, the slope of you nose too. 
“Yeah, yeah,” he grinned. “How does a grilled cheese sound?”
You laughed too, nodding, because you didn’t think you’d be able to focus on chopping up ingredients or kneading out a dough right now either. “You gonna make it real fancy for me?” 
Eddie beamed, brows scrunched together in disbelief, like he was shocked you had to even ask. “What? Sweetheart, please,” he pushed one last kiss to your lips, grimaced at the open fridge door and kicked it shut witn his foot. “S’gonna be the fanciest grilled cheese you’ve ever had.”
—————
“You have a hickey,” Robin poked at your neck, stating the news very matter of factly as she leaned in between the drivers seat and yours. 
You batted at her hand, eyes wide, cheeks hot as you leaned back to glare at her. “What? No I don’t.”
Steve snorted and pulled into the diner parking lot, joining Eddie’s van and the other few cars that were waiting for a late breakfast. “Wow, that sounded so believable,” he deadpanned. “Enjoy your hot date with the chef last night?”
The day after your dinner with Eddie only egged on your good mood. A bright day, with blue skies and warm air, the kind of Sunday morning that was straight out of a photograph, big white clouds, sunflower fields in the distance, the smell of coffee and waffles coming from the diner doors. 
Eddie had dropped you back at your apartment late, later then he should’ve when he was starting work at six am the next day but you’d stayed to eat grilled cheeses on the sofa with him, pretending to watch some B-roll horror movie as you talked about everything and nothing, legs draped over his lap. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to say but your words got tangled in a grin and they came out too happy, making Steve’s eyes roll as he climbed out of the car. 
“You’re a fuckin’ awful liar,” he told you over the roof and Robin snorted in agreement, bending down to peer at her reflection in Steve’s window. She snapped her gum, baby pink against rose coloured lip balm and flipped Steve off when he popped her bubble. “And we’re all late, ‘cause someone couldn’t find their keys, c’mon.”
It felt like a proper friendship, the way you walked around the side of the diner with Steve and Robin, jostling each other and laughing when they took it too far, the girl shrieking when Steve pulled her into a headlock, encouraging you with a grin to give her a noogie. And the laughter bled into the kitchen when you all stumbled into the fire exit door reserved for staff, smoke breaks and crying sessions in the alleyway. But the laughter stopped when you caught sight of Eddie at his station, whisking a bowl of egg yolks and butter, exactly like you expected him to be at eleven am on a sunday. 
You didn’t expect the girl, though. Or recognise her.
Strawberry blonde and petite, her uniform shorter than yours, her elbows leaning on Eddie’s station as she beamed up at him. She was pretty. Really pretty.
She turned at the noise of the three of you coming into the kitchen, laughter still on Steve’s lips, a faux argument brewing between him and Robin as they tailed off towards the lockers. You stayed standing, a little shocked. You weren’t sure why, you knew there was staff you hadn’t met before, seasonal members of the diner who split their time between Jim’s and other jobs. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. 
She was just— standing too close to the boy you spent the night making out with. 
Eddie had put down the bowl and whisk, cleaned his hands on the front of his apron and smiled at you,  his face lighting up at the sight, a genuine slice of joy in what was about to be an awkward moment. He said your name, almost shy, looking like he didn’t know how to greet you. 
“This is, uh, this is—” he gestured to the girl, trailing off when she bounced over to you, hand extended. 
“I’m Chrissy, it’s so nice to meet you,” she gushed. “You’re new, right?”
“Uh, kinda,” you laughed a little weakly. You didn’t feel new anymore. You felt like you belonged. You told her your name, even though she’d already heard Eddie say it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
No one else really knew what to say then and your plans to greet Eddie with a kiss seemed ruined. The boy looked at you as if he were thinking the same, his smile lopsided and sweet. But he dished the eggs into a pot and started scrambling them, brushing away a stray curl with the back of his hand and he asked you, “have you had breakfast?”
You rolled your eyes, affection lingering there and you relaxed a little, knowing this routine, loving this routine. You grabbed your apron from the hook, tying it round your waist as you brushed past him, a hand skimming his lower back, the closest thing you could do to a greeting. 
Chrissy tracked the movement with curious eyes. 
“Not yet,” you told him softly and you ached to perch yourself on the stool by his station - your stool - but Chrissy had already walked back over and claimed it. “You gonna tell me off?”
You said it shyly, a hint of flirt there, cheeks warm and smile soft as you gazed up at the boy. Eddie responded in kind, the tips of his ears turning pink and he tried to scowl at you, brows pinching together but he grinned like he couldn’t help it. “I would, if I knew it would work,” he smiled down at you, head tilted to the side all lazy. “You want some eggs? Or I could make you some pancakes?”
And before you could tell him that eggs were perfectly fine, Chrissy’s voice interrupted, she was pushing herself onto the table, leaning on her hands, cheeks coloured with a pretty pink blush and squished together. “Don’t tell me I leave for the summer and you’ve got another favourite waitress already,” she pouted, lips shiny and glassy and pink. “I thought I was your number one, Ed.”
Her words made you feel too warm. That rolling heat that creeped across your chest, your neck, your face. An awfully uncomfortable sensation, anxious, unsettled. You tried to laugh when she did, but the sound came out weak, stilted. Chrissy was looking at Eddie, confident, playful, so sure of herself. 
She looked at him like she really knew him, like there was an inside joke that you didn’t know about. 
You backed away, ignoring how Eddie’s hand tried to catch yours. “Uh, I’m actually not that hungry,” you smiled but it wavered. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “Thanks though. I’ll, um, I’ll catch up with you later. It was nice meeting you, Chrissy,” you nodded at her, hoping she didn’t see your glassy eyes before you turned and left them in the kitchen. 
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel
Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7
WC: 11.1k
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, nervousness, fluff, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, mentions of vomit, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, sexual tension, angst, anxiousness, self-deprecating thoughts, low self-esteem, panic attack hinting, nausea, dizziness, miscommunication
Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.
Summary: The morning after came, the need for a talk is there, a new realization, new found feelings... as well as the gears going back to the starting line.
A/N: I am sorry.
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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PART 7
The sound of a bird chirping caught your ear as you slowly gained your senses back, a soft whine staying in your throat as you rustled slightly in your place. There was so much warmth, making you sigh in complete happiness, as the body next to you held you even closer, his soft snores hitting the top of your head, the smell of his cologne that still lingered–
Body holding you close?
Your eyes snapped open like plates, being met with a bare chest in front of you as it slowly raised up and then back down, tattoos splattered on his skin, tattoos you recognized now. Your heart picked up a pace as you slowly, without moving too much, pulled your head off his chest to finally look up. Your breath was caught in your throat, a squeal wanting to come out as you saw Eddie’s sleeping face, his hair all over the pillow.
Your mouth fell open as you moved your legs slightly, feeling the soreness that now resides in between them. You needed to move away from him because you had to collect yourself. You had to think. You had to process whatever happened yesterday and you were beginning to breathe heavily and you really didn’t want to wake him up, not yet. 
You closed your mouth, trying to hold your breaths in as much as you could as you slowly started to wiggle out of his grasp, earning a scrunch of his nose and a groan. You tensed up when you moved, but he rolled off you in his sleep, laying on the other side of the bed with a soft sigh. You held your hand to your chest, feeling it almost ripping out from it with every thump. Your belly was turning, almost painfully as you raised yourself from his arm that was wrapped around you seconds ago, and probably was numb from being under your body the whole night.
You stared at his bare chest, your blankets covering until they met on his hips, and that’s when you realized you were stark naked, looking down at your body that– Oh god… You had hickies. You almost squealed but you threw a hand over your mouth, holding the noise in. You really had to go and collect yourself, because you needed to go through the events from yesterday and try to calm yourself before he wakes up because you two would definitely have a talk.
And that was the problem, about what?
You slowly took the blankets off your legs and swung them to the side, and you winced slightly at the soreness on your inner thighs. It’s been way too long since you… Since you had sex. Shit, you had sex. You slept with Eddie, your friend Eddie. Just because of a split second of horniness. You stood up before you screamed and looked around to find something that didn’t require you to open your closet in order to not make any noise.
You gulped as you grabbed onto your white cotton panties that you had taken out yesterday but decided on the black set. Where’s the bra? You can’t find it, and the only things you have are the black dress from yesterday, which is a no, a pair of gym shorts that you use for bed, and an oversized white shirt. Those two will have to do, at least for now, so you could run away from the room as soon as possible.
You grabbed onto the garments and threw them on carefully in order to not stumble and trip and probably make a fool out of yourself in front of the guy you slept with a few hours ago. You felt your face burn at that while you pulled the shirt over your head and your breathing was coming out in heavy amounts from your mouth and you quickly tiptoed out of the room, and closed the door behind you making as little noise as possible.
You let the breath that was in your lungs finally leave your body as you stepped away from your door as if it were on fire. Okay, you were alone now, Eddie is naked in your room, in your bed, because you two slept together yesterday night. Your hands ran over your face and pulled your hair back, gripping your scalp tightly, feeling your intestines just twisting all about, heart in your throat and the flow of your blood very loud in your ears. 
You started pacing back and forth, taking deep breaths as you started to think. What did this all mean? You acted out of instinct, out of urges. What were you? An animal? But Eddie didn’t seem to mind, he actually went in for more with you, didn’t he? You made all the moves of course, which you still don’t know how or why you did that, but you did and he followed. 
But what now? What is going to happen now? You crossed the line, this isn’t just a friendship anymore, friends don’t fuck eachother, at least, not your normal type of friendships don’t. How are you going to explain yourself? What if he asks why you did what you did yesterday? What are you going to tell him? ‘Hey, I realized that I am heavily attracted to you.’
Sure, that is true, but what would that mean between the two of you? What are his feelings about this and… how did he feel yesterday? Were you enough? Were you good? He seemed to enjoy himself, but you didn’t really do much, so did he like it? Did he really want to do that with you? 
“Fuck…” You were biting on your thumb’s skin next to your fingernail again. You really don’t know what is going on, you really have no idea how to move from this. This is the first time you actually felt good while having sex, and you really never in your life experienced what he did to you yesterday. Your eyes widened as you stood in place, eyes widening as another curse left your lips.
The burning in your belly was back.
How was this not enough? You went all the way with him, with a man you are actually attracted to, so why are you still yearning for more? It made no sense, and how your body reacts to the memory of him in between your legs is absolutely ridiculous. You looked at the door once, licking your bottom lip as your mind became slightly hazy again.
Maybe you can act normally? Just, go back into his arms in bed, see where that takes you, see him as he wakes up and smiles at you, and you two would probably talk about the fries from yesterday night and how you didn’t get actual dinner. He would ask for some pancakes again, and then you would gladly make them.
He would like that right? Waking up with breakfast? You can do that, just normally, like the other day you were at his home. Everything was normal after that, and everything can be normal after last night. You can do this. It’s going to be completely fine, you just don’t have to think too much about it, and maybe he won’t either. You took a deep breath in and walked towards your kitchen to start on preparing some coffee and then start grabbing the ingredients for your chocolate chip pancakes. 
You were taking deep breaths, trying to concentrate on your cooking. Eggs, milk, flour, chocolate chips in. You froze. You put the chocolate chips into the batter. Just how he likes it. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Your guts turned again as you kept stirring the batter, over and over again, the gears in your head making you dizzy as the thoughts started reappearing again.
He is going to wake up soon, what are you going to say? Act normal, that’s what you settled on, but now you don’t remember what normal is. How is normal after this? What is normal about any of this? It’s not. It’s definitely not normal to sleep with your friend. Are you going to keep being friends? Oh, what if he doesn't even want to be friends? How are you going to be able to handle that?
The smell of coffee snapped you out again and you looked down at the batter, letting a breath come out of your lips to finally put the pan on the stove. You grabbed onto one of your plates as you started cooking the pancakes, trying to just focus on making them the perfect shape, cooking them just right, letting the air be filled with the sweet smell–
“Shit darling, that smells good.” 
You froze on your fourth pancake, with the spatula underneath it about to turn it over. Your heart was in your throat now, maybe your ears, you didn’t know, but there was a sharp noise ringing in your eardrums, blocking any sounds coming from around you, including Eddie’s steps that were being taken towards you. 
He was now behind you, you could feel his presence on your back, your chest heaving up and down as you stared down, not noticing that the pancake was starting to burn already. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to look at him, you didn’t know what to say, how to act, how to move, and your body simply grew into a cold sweat, your hand trembling with the utensil still in your grasp.
Eddie has actually been awake the moment you made him roll over in the bed. He kept his eyes closed because his heart was in his throat, and he knew he had to give you time. He knew he had to leave you alone to gather your thoughts on what happened, and he couldn’t simply dive in and envelop you again, even if that was what he wanted the most. Once you were out of the room, he sat up too quickly and ran his hands through his hair as his eyes stared widely on the comforters of the bed.
He slept with you. The thing he didn’t believe to happen at all, happened, which was you showing him what you wanted to do with him. You had the guts that he didn’t have. You made the first moves, all of them, and his mind and self control completely shut off last night, but so did yours. He felt his south area beginning to harden again as he remembered last night, your body, your taste, and he didn’t even do head. He almost never did, but he was desperate for you last night, and he still is. 
When you started losing yourself to your lust against him, he really thought he had gone to heaven at that very moment. He could have died a happy man yesterday after what happened, but then he wouldn’t get more. He wouldn’t be able to taste you again, to feel you again, to hold you again, and he wanted to, crazily so. He wasn’t going to let this be a one time thing, and he needed to tell you just that, but he knew you were processing yourself right now, after all, it was the first time you had acted out of impulse to your urges.
He held back a grin as he bit his bottom lip, dropping his hands on the bed. You let go with him, which meant, hopefully, that you reciprocated what he was feeling. You weren’t a friend, not anymore. He didn’t want you to be. He actually had decided, selfishly so, to not be your friend any longer almost a month ago. It had hit him like a train really, not even thinking that you would crawl under his skin the way you did, but the more time he spent with you, the more time you two talked about each other, and to be even interested in one another’s life stories, he knew he was a goner.
His head snapped towards the door as he heard you pacing around the living room and his gut turned with nervousness as his fingers trembled with the need of going and console you, to tell you what he was feeling, to tell you that everything is just fine, and he wishes he could tell you that everything is okay and that nothing changes… But he can no longer say that. There was no way he was letting you go this time, he wasn’t going to pretend to be normal, he wasn’t going to pretend like you didn’t kiss him fucking stupid last night, he wasn’t going to pretend like he didn’t have the best night of his life just a few hours ago.
Minutes later, his nose caught the smell of coffee, and then a sweet smell. Pancakes. You were making him pancakes. He smiled widely at that, because despite you probably having a breakdown, or being nervous right now, you still decided to make breakfast for him. He took a deep breath in, getting up from the bed to throw on his boxers and pants, looking over at his shirt. If he dresses himself, fully, he was afraid of you thinking that everything was done with, and it was anything but. Shirtless it is. 
So now, he stands behind you, noticing how stiff you got, and the smell of burnt pancake filled his nostrils. His hand raised up to slowly graze over your wrist that was holding the spatula, and you almost jumped at the touch, but he held onto your wrist instantly, pulling it up so that the pancake would lift from the pan and throwing it on the plate next to the stove. He could almost hear your breathing from how hard it was, and truly, he was holding his own back in order to not make you any more nervous. 
His eyes then darted towards the bowl with batter in it, and he almost looked away when he noticed you had put the chocolate chips inside it this time, instead of sprinkling them on top of the pancake while it was cooking. The corner of his lip turned upwards at the gesture, and his chest puffed up with pride and with hope but for now, he had to snap you back into reality, because you were still frozen in his hold.
“Angel… It’s just me.” Those three words that always seemed to calm you for some reason, those three words that simply made all your nerves go away, even if little. Knowing it was just Eddie, knowing he wasn’t there to judge you, or criticize you, or call you out, but just be there for you, with you. You took a big gulp while you gripped onto the spatula even harder. 
“I–” No words were coming out. There was no way you could talk at this moment, because you actually didn’t know what to say, where to start, or how to even begin to describe what you were feeling or what you were thinking, but it seems you didn’t have to think too hard, because he was already blabbering, getting hold of the bowl with some batter left.
“See? It’s less messier when you already put the chocolate chips in.” You blink dumbly at his words, looking at the bowl. He tipped some in the pan, and his tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth as he stuck his finger in the batter and dragged more chocolate chips into that specific pancake. That actually made you snap out.
“Don’t touch the batter with your fingers!” You exclaim at him as you wiggle the pan a bit to get all the edges with the mix. You heard him chuckle next to you as he set the bowl down.
“It needed more chocolate chips! That’s mine by the way.” He said pointing at the pancake that was already cooking and it was more chocolate than the mix. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. He stuck his finger inside his mouth, licking the batter off it.
“More chocolate chips next time, got it.” You said almost in a groan but he didn’t miss the ‘next time’ part. His mind went places. Waking up with you next to him, cuddling until midday, both of you not getting out of bed even if you needed to pee and only till your bellies grumbled that you two would get up to go make some pancakes together, laughter filling the kitchen as he shoves way too many chocolate chips in the mix and you yell at him for being too reckless. 
“I’m feeling fancy for next time, maybe add some blueberries in it? Or, hear me out… marshmallows.” He says and you cringed at the sweetness of it all, but also a small giggle came out of your throat as you flipped the pancake on the pan. 
“That’s a s'mores pancake… You can literally just have S’mores.” You say and you hear him chuckle next to you, as he walks towards the coffee pot, and sees that you had already prepared two empty cups to pour the liquid in. He filled his cup in black coffee, but yours only half. He walked towards your fridge to get your vanilla creamer out, and finally filled the rest of your coffee with it. You didn’t miss the gesture, a strong heat invading your belly and cheeks. 
“It’s not the same! The S’mores have biscuits. Pancakes are fluffier, imagine how much fluffier they would be with marshmallows inside. Honestly, I think we’re onto something here sweetheart.” You flip the pancake onto the stack you had next to the stove and turn it off because you believed five pancakes were fine for the two of you. “Or maybe we can add some mint in them.”
That made your mouth drop open, your head snapping to your side to look at him with widened and disgusted eyes, but you froze again when you saw him. The back of his hip was resting on the counter as he looked at you with a smile to his face, one hand holding a mug, the other was handing you yours. You didn’t realize that you were talking normally to him until now. How did Eddie do it? Every single time? 
“T-Thanks…” You say as you look down from his eyes but it was a bad idea. He was shirtless. Oh, the fucking flashbacks. Your whole body heated up at the memories of your nails going all over his skin, all over his chest, all over his arms. You took a large gulp out of your coffee and you clenched your eyes at the taste. It was the perfect measurement. 
“I had to bring your despise for mint for you to look at me.” He lets out with a small chuckle, taking a sip of his own coffee. You blinked down at your cup, not really knowing where to go from here. Should you apologize? Should you tell him that he should forget about it? But why would you say something so hypocritical when you didn’t want to forget about it? 
“I– I– just don’t know–” You tried to say out loud but your throat went dry at those few words, making you take more sips out of your mug, and he sighed, taking one last sip of his, putting his cup on the counter. 
“Tell me what you’re thinking Angel. I need to know what you’re thinking.” And how do you even begin? You don’t even know what you feel, you don’t even know if it was right, if it was wrong, but the only thing you knew, is that you desired Eddie, that you were attracted to him in ways that not even god could define. But you won’t tell him that, because that’s when you would crawl into a hole and disappear from the world.
“I– I really don’t know– Yesterday… I never–” You blabbered, stuttered, and he was being patient as he looked at you, hands trembling with the cup in between them. He felt his chest about to explode but he still waited, wanting to hear you, to understand you, but he knew your mind was just a jumbled mess, he can hear it in the tremble on your voice and in the way your eyes were going back and forth as if looking for an answer somewhere.
He raised his hand up to place it on the cheek that was not facing him, and you immediately froze again. He leaned down and forward to press a soft kiss on the cheek facing him this time, and your body felt like it melted away, your bones going all soft and wiggly on you, a sigh escaping your lips at the touch of his lips on your skin. For some reason, this gesture made some of the black clouds move away from your mind, leaving some space for clarity, for you to slowly turn your head to face him again as he pulled away from you, his thumb caressing your cheek in gentle circles.
“Do you regret it? Because let me tell you darling, I sure as hell don’t.” Even if your heart wanted to burst into a million pieces from how hard it was beating, your eyes still widened at his words, surprise taking all over your features.
“Y-You don’t?” You asked with a hint of confusion in your tone as well. He licked his lips as his throat closed up on him, but he gulped it down so that he could keep talking. You were just too beautiful right now, looking up at him with those eyes that he adored. 
“I did mean what I said yesterday.” He says and you tilt your head at that, trying to remember everything that was said at the bar, or when you walked your way to it with him, and he smiled at you, pulling his hand off your face, grabbing the mug out of your hands and placing it on the counter next to his. Your eyebrows knitted together at that, looking at the cup leaving your grasp.
“Why—” You began to ask, but when you looked back up at him, your mouth immediately closed, seeing the serious face he had on. It made your heart jump slightly as well as your stomach, not knowing how his smile turned into this serious look. His hand raised to pinch on the side of your shirt with his fingers and tugged you in front of him, almost making you stumble at the sudden jerk. He then pressed that same hand on your waist, firmly, while the other raised up to gently hold your cheek to make you look up at him.
“You have no idea for how long I’ve wanted last night to happen.” He says while looking down at you, his eyes searching for yours as a gasp was caught in your throat, your body heating up at his words and your head was about to look down, but he held you in place, shaking his head at you. “No, keep looking at me.” 
“B-But I didn’t do— I didn’t do anything—” He shook his head again, your eyes trying to avoid his as you talked, now your chest thumping wildly, blood pumping everywhere in your body at a very accelerated pace, and you didn’t notice how your voice was trembling and how you were slowly beginning to shake in his grasp.
“I need you to calm down baby… It’s really just me.” He gave small circles on your cheek, which made your eyes look back at him, your mind going blank. He wanted last night to happen? He wanted to sleep with you? Many questions were going through your mind but only one was voiced out.
“We had sex.” His eyebrows raised up in surprise, a smile appearing on his lips, dimples showing off, but you were still completely bewildered as you blinked at him, your mind just trying to work overtime now for you. “You-You saw me naked, I saw you naked—” 
“Pretty necessary for having sex Angel.” He says with a laugh this time, and that only made your brain simply burn off, steam coming off the top of your head. You gulped as his laughter slowly tuned down, the turning in your belly and the doubt in your mind now cooperating to formulate another question.
“Why— Why with me?” You managed to ask, and that made Eddie’s laugh completely turn off, only for you to continue. “I-I’m just… not—” And he knew who you were comparing yourself to. The clients in the club stood no chance against you, they really didn’t, but you didn’t believe that. He weighed his options, and he decided it would be better to show you.
“You’re not what?” His hand left your cheek to mimic his other one, pressing on your waist, now firmer than before, and he pulled your body flush into his, and your eyes widened up at him. He leaned down close to your ear, his breath hitting your skin, sending shivers down your spine as the fire in your belly ignited once more. “Feel what you do to me by just standing in your kitchen in an oversized white shirt.” 
Against your belly was the same hardness you felt yesterday night on your hip. The one you felt rubbing itself against your center. The one you felt against your thigh when he climbed over towards you. And now, you didn’t have the dress on, your makeup was smudged and you cleaned it up with your fingers as much as you could, you probably smell like sweat… and he still wants you.
He couldn’t help himself, being close to your ear, to your skin, and his mouth instantly pressed a gentle kiss under your earlobe, a gasp coming out of your lips as the touch left your skin burning. You should ask him, you should talk to him, stop and try to think for a second, but that was the problem right now, you didn’t want to, and it seems that he didn’t either. 
His kiss trailed down towards your neck, soft lips pressing against your pulse point, and your hands raised up shakily to hold onto his biceps, fingernails digging into his skin, and his own digits dug into your waist, trying to have a cable back to earth, but his self control was slipping away again the more he took your scent in, the more he tasted you again on his lips. 
More. More. More.
Now that chant was on repeat in his mind as well, at the same time it was happening in yours. He was repeating your actions from yesterday, letting himself go, his mouth doing the work for him, not a single thought running in his head except for the need to hold you again, just running his lips on your skin again.
“I really mean it…” He mumbled in your neck, more kisses being left there as he kissed his way from one side to the other, making your head turn with soft breaths escaping your mouth which was making his brain simply scramble into nothing. “You have no idea for how long I’ve wanted you.” 
His voice was low, and your belly was burning with need again, your hands slowly trailing over his biceps to rest one hand on his shoulder, the other around his neck, pulling him into you, making his kisses turn hungrier, not being able to hold it and sucking on your skin to mark you, to leave you the reminder that this happened between you both, for you to look at it at every hour today, and tomorrow, and he wishes that by the end of today he would be able to retrace his mark again and again, not letting it fade at all, even if weeks went by. 
“Eds—” You softly mumble as a moan escapes your lips, your eyes half lidded as you bathe in his attention. You heard a soft groan against your skin, only for the warmth that was there to simply vanish as he pulled away from you. Before you could complain, before you could ask, before the gears in your brain could start working again, his lips found yours, making your nails grip onto his shoulder even tighter.
He was hungry, and it wasn’t for the pancakes, and he made it known by how he instantly started moving his lips against yours, rough, yet with deepness, with care, swallowing your breaths into his mouth, taking everything he could from you. You didn’t even had time to process what was happening, except for your desire to start talking for you as well, and your brain was simply processing the words ‘Fuck it’.
You started returning his kiss in the same manner, the hand on his neck going to his nape to pull him even deeper into you, your other hand sliding off his shoulder to rub against his bicep and he groaned into you, your touch making his gut turn in excitement, in nervousness, in need, just by you scratching your nails on his skin, not even on an erogenous zone. He sort of cursed you in his head for the way you made him feel like putty in just two seconds and with just one touch.
He ran his tongue over your bottom lip, and your mouth instantly invited him in, a moan of yours escaping into his as his tongue pressed against yours. You felt him even harder against your belly, making the heat in your center reappear at an alarming rate, almost too hot for you to handle. Now that you knew what he could do to you, this burning was even worse than before. It was much, much worse, but you didn’t hate it, you didn’t dislike it and you didn’t want to push it away.
His hands finally moved from your waist, and you gasped into the kiss as you felt his fingertips gliding underneath the hem of your shirt, pulling it up as he finally pressed his hand against your bare back, flushing you into him, and you shivered at how big his palm was against you, how hot it felt, but another gasp escaped you when you felt his other hand cup the round of one of your cheeks, now pressing you against his bottom half even harder.
He moaned in his throat and you melted at the sound, your tongue still dancing with his as his hands pressed against you, rubbed, groped, simply felt as if wanting to remember every part of your skin and body, on how your skin was soft yet warm under his palms. Your minds were filled with one another, not wanting to separate at all, and he needed you again, screw the pancakes, he can eat those later, right after he has you.
He had to guide you to your bedroom, you need to know how much he wants you still, how much he will want you after, and the days to come, and he is certain he is not going to ever get tired of you, not when you taste like this, when you feel like this, when you burn like this. 
He pushed himself off the counter, ready to begin to guide you back to where you both woke up minutes ago. You were going to let him, your belly turning anxiously as you let yourself wanting him again, and maybe this time you can try to make him feel good too. You want to really make him feel good, just like he did yesterday and the other night. You were eager to learn what he liked, eager to hear him moan because of what you do to him, and you never in your life thought you would be eager to do something like that before.
The music of Master of Puppets suddenly filled the room and your eyes opened like plates.
You two pulled away, brows furrowed together as you both looked around to where it was coming from. Eddie finally spotted his jacket on the floor, just where he left it yesterday and he cursed under his breath. He had to let you go to actually answer the phone. 
“Hang on sweetheart.” He gave you a small peck on the lips before letting go of your body, and you just stood there, frozen as you felt the cold hitting your skin again. What happened? How did you go from making pancakes to almost having sex with him once more? How did that happen in such a short lapse of time?
He grabbed his jacket from the floor, grimacing slightly at it because he just left a wet patch on the floor, not letting it dry properly so it was still kind of wet in some folds. He dug into his pocket for his phone, pulling it out to look at the caller ID. He blinked a few times at it and when he didn’t answer is when you turned your head to look at him.
“Eds…?” You called him out, almost breathlessly and he turned to look at you with a small smile on his face.
“I have to get this Angel, I’ll be back.” You watched him put the jacket on the counter to then go back into your room, closing the door behind him. Your breath finally left your lungs, the burning calming down slightly, but not quite. You gulped heavily as you licked your lips, and you knew they were red and plump from the kissing you just did. You couldn’t help but feel… Happy. That’s how you felt, a small smile appearing on your lips.
You didn’t mind your mind shutting off when it came to him, you really didn’t. But the uneasiness of not knowing what all of this meant came back, but not because he was not clarifying it with you. It was because you weren’t being clear with yourself. What did this all mean? Why were you like this? Was this really how simple attraction felt like?
Your ear picked up movement in your room, and you really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you really couldn’t help yourself, and it only took two steps for you to listen to Eddie’s low voice through the door. Even when he wanted to speak in whispers he was loud.
“Yeah, I heard you… I forgot about today, but I can— Yeah…— Okay, see you later then–.” 
You blinked at those words, brows knitting together in confusion. Who was he talking to? You heard more shuffling and you panicked, not wanting him to know you were listening to his conversation and you went back towards the pancakes, now cold and you pretended to prepare a plate for you to put one on when you heard the door open. Your blood pumped in your veins in a wildly manner as you turned to see Eddie with his turtleneck on, boots thumping on your floor as he mumbled curses under his breath. 
“Are you alright?” It was the first question that popped in your head, because he didn’t look happy at all, and seeing him in his clothes again made your mood instantly drop, realizing that he was leaving. 
“Yeah– Um… I have to go… Steve needs me to take him somewhere– Kind of forgot about it.” He says to you with a small smile to his face, almost forced and you stood still in your place, not really knowing what to do. He saw your hesitation, so he took the steps between the both of you, his hands cupping your face, leaning down to place a soft peck on your lips. Your breath hit his face as he pulled away, but lingered over your lips, and you couldn’t help but voice out the first question that came to mind.
“You really have to go?” And Eddie wanted to die right then and there. You didn’t want him to leave, but fuck, he had to go. His knees almost buckled at your voice yet, he nodded with a saddened look on his face.
“Yeah… But we’ll talk later okay? We really do need to talk… Right Angel?” Your eyes locked with his at those words, and your face flushed in a way that wasn’t because of embarrassment, but just pure adoration. You nodded, almost dumbly at his words, making a smile appear on his lips. He gave you a peck on your lips again, not really wanting to go without his dose and he has to quickly pull away before he gets distracted with you once again. 
He pulled away from you and you felt your body completely warm now, not even cold, not even if he pulled away from you. He grabbed onto his jacket with one hand and walked towards the door, opening it to then look towards the counter. He rushed back to grab onto two full pancakes, shoving them in his mouth, the rest still sticking out, making your eyes go wide, afraid he’ll choke.
“Eddie!” He smiled at you with the pancakes between his teeth, winking at you before doing a little jog out of the door, closing it behind him, finally leaving you alone in your home. 
Your hands immediately went towards your mouth, covering it to contain your screams, afraid that he was still out there. You were feeling so many things at one single moment. Nervousness, fear, happiness, indecisiveness, embarrassment, delight, and arousal. All of that was happening in one single moment which was making your heart rate pick up even more than before.
You were going to have a stroke by the end of the day, you knew that. And he wants to talk. What does he want to talk about? What are you supposed to talk about? What are you supposed to say? To feel? How do you even start the conversation with him? What is going to be your new normal? What did you want it to be?
You absentmindedly grabbed onto one pancake and took a bite out of it, only to spit it out onto the plate in disgust. 
It was the burnt one.
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He hasn’t spoken to you all day, and that made you anxious. It’s already 7 PM, and it’s his day off, so he should be available, right? You could message him, but what do you even want to say? Hi? How are you? How was your day?
There is no way you could be normal with this, you can’t act normal, not when you had to actually clean your room after yesterday’s night. Not when you discovered the ball of paper on the night table that wasn’t yours, only to open it up and find the used condom inside, and that made your memories just hit you like a car at great speed, almost knocking you over.
How can you act normal after that?
Your phone started ringing, the ringtone of The Shire started going off and your heart leaped, and you rushed from your room towards your kitchen where the noise was coming from, grabbing it from the counter, only for your face to frown into a disappointed one seeing it was Robin. That made you feel a little bit guilty, but you couldn’t help yourself. Not when you’ve been waiting all these hours for him to talk to you again. You slid the button to answer her, her face coming up on the screen, a big smile on her lips.
“Hi Rob–”
“SHE SAID YES!” That startled you, completely, almost throwing the phone to the floor. You blinked a few times as you regained the posture, as Robin’s blabbering kept going on the phone and you raised a hand towards your camera to stop her.
“Robs, Robs– I don’t understand a word you’re saying, where are you?” You frowned at seeing her on what appeared to be the mall, just walking while talking to you.
“Vickie said yes to my date!” She says excitedly and your chest warms up with joy, a smile spreads on your lips as you start bouncing in your place, and she mimics you, both of you looking completely dumb but you didn't care, nor did she.
"Holy shit!" You yell with her as you spin in your place and she laughs, a vibrant blush on her cheeks as she looks at you.
"I know!" She yells again and probably caught the attention of many people that were walking near her and you hear her say a small 'sorry' to someone, making you giggle.
"How did it happen?" You asked her, going to sit on your couch, excitement clear in your voice. She was still with a smile on her face, almost crazy looking, making you laugh at her face.
"She called me to ask me about something; I really don't even remember what it was, I think it was something about a recipe? Anyways, at the end of it I just– She just looked too pretty, you have no idea, and I blurted it out." You covered your mouth with your hand as shock washed over you. You never really imagined Robin to be straightforward, but it seems she bursted at the seams.
"Wow Robin… Why are you in the mall? When is it? Where are you both going?" The questions blurted out of your mouth like a machine gun, making Robin blush even more.
"We are going to the movies tonight, and I am getting something different than what I always wear, because I realized all my clothes look the fucking same, and maybe– Do I get her some roses? Chocolates? I’ve never been on a formal date, I don’t know how this works, I am losing my mind–”
“Robin, Jesus calm down, I bet that Vickie doesn’t care, she already said yes to a date, knowing it wasn’t a friendly outing.” You tell her and she seemed to calm down with that, giving you a soft nod as if in understanding.
“You are right… God, I just– I just like her so much…” You can see Robin’s dreamy eyes as she enters one of the stores, scanning all of the clothes that might be there, but your mind starts to wander. Robin didn’t know anything, not even that you kissed Eddie. Maybe she did because she’s friends with Steve, but she never really said anything about it… But–
“Robs?” You call out to her, heart thumping in your ears as you let your words come out of your mouth.
“Yeah?” She was still looking above the camera, and you could hear the hangers simply moving from side to side as she browsed. You cleared your throat and licked your lips, stammering a bit in your words as you tried to word your thoughts without giving yourself away.
“How do you even know it is not a simple attraction? What you feel for Vickie.” You say to her, biting on your tongue almost as the nerves in your belly started spiraling as she looked quizzically down at the phone.
“What?”
“I never experienced it, so– I mean, liking someone is simply being attracted to them, right?” 
“Oh honey, no.” You sat frozen at that, blinking at the phone, your whole body just completely still on your couch as you processed her words. What? When you didn’t answer, she continued talking. “You start with attraction, then it develops into something else.”
Your heart picked up a pace again, and the hand holding the phone was growing quite the sweat. What did she mean by that? Why does it feel like she is saying something that you needed to hear? Why does it feel like she is caging you? 
“And how do you even know that?” You manage to ask, and your mind for some reason is afraid of the answer. Afraid to finally come to terms with something you thought it was going to be impossible for you. 
“Well, you are still attracted to them, but… You want to know about them, wake up with them by your side… I don’t know, I guess– When you are with them, and you can laugh afterwards, but still want them later on… You just want— More.”
Your eyes widened as plates at that, heart finally coming to a stop.
More. More. More.
“Oh god…” You let those words come out as a soft breath, Robin not really hearing you, too busy finding a shirt for her date, while you were having a complete breakdown on this discovery of yours. You found the word for your feelings. The word that scares you even at the deep of your gut. The word that you don’t even know if it’s reciprocated, and you are scared to even know if it is.
And now you came to realize that it’s not recent. It’s not something that happened after the first kiss even. Even when he hugged you, you always wanted more. When he held your hand, you always wanted more. When he laughed with you and you didn’t want it to ever stop, you just wanted more. It was never enough, it could never be enough, not when it came to him. You were screwed.
You fell for Eddie. Deeply. 
Your body trembled with realization, with desperation to have him back with you because now that you know what name to put on your feelings, you just felt this incredible need of having him, shower him with affection, not even be nervous around him, you just needed to hold him again, kiss him again, touch him again, spend time with him again. 
You were nervous, anxious even, but there was still hope in your heart, hope that he feels the same for you, hope that he wants you more than just friendship. He wants to talk to you about what happened yesterday, he wants to talk it out and now you know where you are headed. Now you know how to start the conversation. Now you know what to tell him. 
“Hey, you there?” You hear Robin, making you snap completely out of your thoughts, blinking rapidly at the screen. Your friend had a small smirk on her lips, or you thought she had it, because it fell down as soon as you looked at the camera.
“Y-Yeah, I just– I remembered I have to um… get some ingredients for today’s dinner. I have nothing in my fridge.” You manage to blurt out the lie, but in your head you were already making plans, not being able to hold your words back, knowing where to go now.
“Oh, then if it’s that… Go to the grocery store… I’ll tell you everything after my date, okay?” Robin had a knowing smile on her face as she spoke to you and you really wanted to question her if she knew, but it was going to be a conversation that would take too long and you needed to run out of your apartment right at this very second.
“Yeah! I hope everything goes well Robs!” You say quickly, kind of feeling guilty for squashing over your friend’s success but it seems as if Robin didn’t really mind it, waving at you.
“Hopefully! Talk to you later!” And you said a soft ‘bye’ and hung up the call. You blinked a few times at the phone. Should you call him? Tell him– No, he has his day off. Your legs started working again as your breathing became erratic with emotion, with excitement, never in your life feeling this way before.
You finally know what everyone meant when they talked about crushes, and love. You never felt that excitement, never felt that interest, never really believed they were telling you the truth about it, but now you know it is, because your heart was exploding but in such a good way, in a perfect way that only Eddie managed to do. 
Your feet took you to your room to throw on a pair of jeans, changing from your pajama pants, and then a random shirt, changing it from your oversized shirt that you were still wearing since the morning because it still held Eddie’s scent. His perfume stuck to the collar of the fabric and you whimpered when you took it off, but you had to be quick. You almost fell on your ass when you wiggled yourself forcefully into your sneakers.
You didn’t even grab your purse, just your phone and your car and house keys. You never ran so fast out of the complex and towards your car, with a smile plastered on your face all the while. When you sat yourself in front of the steering wheel, you couldn’t even believe what you were doing, what your feet were taking you, but you couldn’t hold it in anymore, just like last night.
Last night you finally exploded, wanting to finally feel him entirely, and the fact that you want, NEED more, is a sign that you have to talk it out, say that to him, say that you want more, be honest and let yourself go. Your keys got into the ignition hole, and you took a deep breath as you started your journey into the streets, your heart in your throat pumping quicker as you approached your destination.
You were probably insane, you were probably going to make a scene, and you didn’t even know how to word anything of what you were feeling properly, but you were sure you were going to say everything to him. You knew you had to. No matter how it comes out of your mouth, no matter what you have to do to get your words through, you will try and you will tell him that you like him, that you are falling for him, that you might even already have fallen to the deep end.
You parked right in front of his complex, and an old man was opening the main door to the lobby, making you rip yourself from the seatbelt and bolting out of your car, pressing the lock button over your shoulder as you reached the door, holding it open for the old man who thanked you as you anxiously waited for him to go through. Once he did, you ran towards the elevators, pressing the buttons desperately.
You looked at the numbers going down and you were chanting ‘come on, come on’ under your breath. Once the metal doors opened, you ran inside, quickly pressing his apartment’s button, almost to the point of breaking it. The door closed and you took many deep breaths in, but a smile was on your face as your ears rang from the excitement. You weren’t even thinking of the possibility of rejection, you just wanted this feeling to be known, for him to know, for him to understand.
The doors opened and you took a slow step out as you stared at his apartment door. Was this the right decision? Right now? Not even messaging him to tell him you were coming over? He had errands to run today, what if he is not home yet? But the light underneath the door frame told you otherwise, sparking your excitement once again. You walked towards the door, and took one last deep breath in. This was it.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
You waited, deep breaths coming out of your lips as you waited, rocking on the balls of your feet, back and forth, and that’s when you heard shuffling on the other side of the door, a sniffle, slippers sliding against the wooden floor, and a click of the lock was heard. When it opened, you found a very sick Steve Harrington in front of you, red nose and all, hair all over the place, his blue robe on his body and your eyes widened at the sight.
“Shit, Steve, are you okay?” You ask him and he was almost wobbly, greeting you with your name and nodding. He actually took so many tylenol and dayquil that his mind was just trying to survive at this point.
“Yeah, peachy, never felt greater in my life…” You winced at his sarcasm and he sniffled holding himself with his hand on the doorframe, his eyes completely droopy from the mucus that was on his sinus. “What brings you here, sweetness?” You straightened up again at his question, but you tilted your head in question this time, remembering that Eddie told you he had to take Steve somewhere… maybe the hospital?
“Oh, I just— I came to see Eddie.” Steve scoffed at that, and sniffled again.
“He is not here.” He says and you tilt your head in confusion again. Maybe he went to grab something to eat?
“Oh, I just assumed it’s his day off so…” You mentioned to him, and you were hoping you would get the information out of his mouth, a mouth that at this moment had no filter, and no rationality or perception.
“He must be with a client.” He says and you just blink up at him, and your mind for some reason was telling you that you should leave, that you should not hear any longer, that you have to run from there, but your feet never moved.
“A client?” You choke out, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible and Steve wobbles a bit, trying to focus on your face, but failing to do so. He waved his hand around as he explained himself.
“Yeah, his second job. He did tell you about it right?”
“The job… that…”
“Private meetings with clients. Mainly sex really.” 
Your heart dropped at that, falling right into your stomach. You were staring at Steve as if he had just stabbed you with a sword, just impaling you without any kind of mercy, and the gears in your mind started working, but instead of moving forward, they went backwards. Your hands were starting to tremble, not wanting to believe what Steve was saying.
“That– Today?” You choke out, holding a sob in your throat as your knees start to give up on you. This couldn’t be happening, not right after the best night of your life, not after realizing what you felt for him, not after he said those things to you.
“Yeah, I mean, sometimes we do it for money, sometimes just for pleasure, so that’s why I don’t know when he’ll be back.” He blurts out and that’s when your world stopped.
He lied. He lied to you. He said he was going with Steve today, but Steve is too sick to even move… The call– The words you heard– You wanted to vomit, nausea washing over your stomach as the puzzle came together in your head, slowly, and when it finally clicked, when it all clicked.
And your eyes couldn’t look at Steve’s face any longer.
“O-Oh, y-yeah, he told me, I must have forgotten…” Your voice was small, your body shaking as your gaze couldn’t handle Steve’s neck, nor his chest, nor his legs, until you were entirely looking at the floor. Your body was shaking almost, and you had to run away. You had to leave. You were suffocating. You needed air.
“Do you want me to–” You didn’t even let him finish his sentence, taking a step back from him as his cologne invaded your sense of smell.
“No. He– He will make fun of my… poor memory… Um… Don’t tell him I came here, I’ll… just message him later.” Your voice became smaller and smaller at each word that came out of your lips, and Steve, poor Steve, was so out of it that he didn’t notice anything wrong. 
“Okay, see you later Sweetness.” Your body almost gagged and jerked forward at the nickname, but you stayed put, still looking at the floor. Your mind was shutting down, you needed to leave.
“B-Bye.” You couldn’t even say his name as you turned around, walking back towards the elevator and pressing the button to go down, hearing the door closing before your metal doors shut together. Your eyes were still on the floor, not daring to look up as you tried, you really tried to make those last words disappear from your brain, but they were on repeat, and your body was numb.
You felt numb, automatic, going towards your car, and you don’t even remember starting it, you don’t remember how you even got to your complex, you don’t remember if you locked your car or not as you entered your apartment, your lost gaze just not centering on anything. You threw the keys on the counter, just simply dropping them somewhere as your feet slowly took you towards the bathroom. 
He has a second job. He has a sex working job. And he has had it even before he met you, and he never quit it, and Steve said that he does it for pleasure sometimes. Was this one of the times? Right after last night with you? Maybe there was a mistake? Maybe that’s not what Eddie’s doing? 
But he wasn’t home, and the fact was that he still has that job. He still does it because Steve said it as if it were a frequent thing. How many times have you messaged him or talked to him while he was with a client? Did he go to them after kissing you? Touching you? Sleeping with you? Were you not good? Were you not enough? Were you simple? Were you too complicated? 
You took a deep breath in, trying to calm your heart, feeling it ripping at your chest, urging to come out of your body, to cry out, to yell into the sky and mourn. Your guts were twisting painfully, and you held your stomach just in case you had to turn around to empty your stomach out, because your world was spiraling all around you and it was making you dizzy. 
Why didn’t he ever tell you about this job? Why wasn’t he honest with you from the very beginning? Maybe if he did you wouldn’t have fallen for him. Maybe if he did you would have been more cautious. Maybe if he did you wouldn’t feel like this, this sick, this dizzy, this broken. Why would he hide it from you? 
You looked at your hands and saw that they were shaking at a very quick pace and you knew you were on the brink of a nervous breakdown, you could feel it. You held your chest as you tried to take deep breaths in and out again, trying to calm yourself down, trying to make everything make sense once again, trying to find a reasonable reason for everything, if there was any.
You turned to look at the sink, turning the faucet on and hunching downwards to finally wash your face, trying to make the cold water make you snap out of how bad your head was starting to hurt, how your throat felt like it was closing up at an alarming rate, and your oxygen felt like it was starting to run short. Your lungs were compressed inside your chest, making it slightly painful but nothing hurt more than your heart.
You straightened up with a heavy breath, a long pained huff, shakiness evident as you gripped onto the sink and finally, your eyes looked at your reflection. Every movement in your body stopped. Every tremble, every thought, every blood cell going through your veins, just everything froze as you stared at yourself… And the gears in your head started going backwards, even further, deeper, darker.
He lied to you. He lied to you. He lied to you. 
You were never good enough, you were never going to compare, and somehow you always knew that, yet… He made you feel beautiful, confident in your clothes, confident in your makeup, confident in the way you spoke, in the way you expressed yourself, in the way you moved. He helped you. He helped you. Helped you.
HE SHAPED YOU.
“No…” You tried telling yourself as your body started rocking back and forth, not wanting to listen to your own brain, not wanting to hear the horrible things that it was saying about him because you were certain that he wasn’t evil. He wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t do it, he didn’t seem capable of doing that. There was no evidence of him planning something like that.
But… He did say he always wanted to have you ‘like this’. Did he mean under him? Did he mean sexually? Did he mean… as if you were a conquest? A prize? You shook your head again, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly be, not your Eddie, not your sweet and patient Eddie. Not the Eddie that made you feel like heaven yesterday, not the Eddie that made your life happier than it ever did before. 
Yet, if he did go to that appointment with a private client today, did it mean he wanted to be with someone experienced? That he wanted to be with someone that knows what they’re doing? Someone prettier? Someone that actually makes him feel good? Someone that knows how to actually do that without asking? A regular? 
HE GOT YOU. HE’S DONE.
No. No. No. It isn’t like that, it wasn’t a one time thing. It was never a one time thing. It shouldn’t have been a one time thing, you weren’t going to let your brain stain every memory you had of him, because in the end he was a great friend. A great friend who lied to you, a great friend that shaped you into what he liked, a great friend that you fell for.
You were trying to deny it, you were trying really hard, you can still talk to him, you can still ask him if it were true, but you knew it was, you knew that he was fucking other people, you knew that you weren’t special, you knew he didn’t feel the same as you did. Your mind was hazy now, dark patches blocking your eyesight as you felt the all too well burning sensation in them. 
Your breathing started coming out of your mouth in huge gasps as you rocked back and forth, still looking at your reflection, looking at who you were now, looking at how different you are from before, looking at what you thought was what you actually wanted to look like… But what if it was never that? What if it was a plan all along? What if he saw it as a challenge? What if you were a challenge and he just wanted you perfect to his taste? This wasn’t you. This wasn’t you. This isn’t you.
HE MOLDED YOU.
A rough groan ripped from your throat as you pushed yourself away from the sink, tumbling out of the bathroom and rushing towards your kitchen, almost breaking a drawer out as you took your plastic bags out, your breathing heavy, angry, chest puffing out and down again, pain rushing all over your body like a sharp electric sting, hurting every place, every joint, every organ. Your feet ran towards your room as you looked all around, your eyes red from burning, your mind now in a dark cloud full of thunder. 
You opened a plastic bag and rushed towards your vanity, putting your hand on the desk to start dragging every makeup product you bought for the past two months, grunts and pained whines escaping your throat as you pushed every mascara, lipstick, blush down into the bag.
You opened the drawers of it, now grabbing onto every piece of accessory you got, every little summer scarf he told you that looked good on you, every single thing he complimented you in was going into the bag. You can’t use that, you never used that, you didn’t know how to use any of this, so why keep lying, why keep being someone you are not for the sake of someone else?
You angrily pushed yourself off the vanity, making it rock back and forth and you stared now at your closet. You immediately grabbed another bag and you rushed towards it, flinging it open in a desperate move, getting hold of all the shirts he told you would look good in. All the jeans he helped you buy. All the sweaters he told you will look good on you in the winter.
Your tears were now running down your eyes as you threw each article of clothing into the bag, leaving behind your old stuff, your old shirts, your old jeans, your old pants, who you truly were, where you truly belonged. Secure, safe, and comfortable. You then flung the other side of the closet and your eyes widened when you saw all the jackets you never thought of buying before.
Everything was being taken off the hanger and thrown into a new bag, everything had to go, everything that reminded you of him had to go. Everything that smelled remotely like him, anything that held a memory of him had to go. All the skirts, one by one were being thrown into the bag, the shorts as well, and then the dresses. Things you never wore before in your life, the only time being your prom night. 
You started ripping them out of your closet, throwing them all into a new bag, until you finally held onto one garment. A very specific one. You looked at it as you were about to throw it in, the purple color catching your eye as you straightened up to hold onto it with both of your hands. Tears came down your cheeks as you stared at the purple dress in your grasp.
Your first ever article of new clothing. The first time he complimented you. The first time he twirled you. The first time he took you in. The first time you felt confident in something you never wore before… And it was all fake. Everything was fake. He saw you as a hard conquest, and he got you, and even shaped you into what he wanted, making you desirable for him. 
You sobbed harshly as you let your emotions finally rip from your chest, as you came down from your anger, from your thunder and all that was left was heavy rain. All that’s left is this pain in your chest of your first time feeling something you never thought you would feel, only to be ripped away seconds later. All that’s left… it’s this purple dress.
And you will still throw it into the bag.
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End of part 7
A/N: I know it isn't as long as last one or the ones before, but next one is the last chapter, so... I hope I didn't hurt you all too much with this.
I hope you liked this chapter and always reblog your artists!
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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Cat: water form
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I AM BUT A MERE MORTAL, KEERY
Joe Keery in Fargo S5, btw
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊
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Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: Your friends, like the whole school, don't like Eddie Munson. You, on the other hand, think you'd like to get to know him but that's probably never going to happen. Until you find yourself locked up with him in the school library.
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The parking lot was crowded, filled with students arriving and getting ready for another day at Hawkings Highschool as you walked alongside your two friends through the sea of ​​people.
"Is this jacket new?" Debby asked as she approached you with her nose, as if to sniff it, with an almost disgusted expression painted on her face.
You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes, it wasn't the first time Debby complained about the way you dressed, among the many faults she seemed to find in you every time.
"Um, yeah." You raised your eyebrows not understanding what she was getting at.
"It's leather." She stated as if the fact were a crime. "Leather stinks."
"Debby, it's not even real leather, it can't stink. I bought it for ten dollars at the flea market."
"Oh. So that's why it stinks."
"Debby, I swear I-"
"Hey, hey" Jess interrupted you "no one stinks in here, okay? Look, Y/N... Debbs and I were planning on going out tomorrow night. Maybe to the movies or something?"
"I'm sorry..."
"Ugh, what you have to do again?" Jess rolled her eyes, smoothing her perfect cheerleading skirt with her hands.
Jess was one of the most popular girls in school, perhaps second only to Chrissy Cunningham and a few other cheerleaders who became known through their jocks boyfriends.
"You know I work almost every day after school. Does the new record store sound familiar?"
"Oh c'mon, why do you have to work so much?" Jess snorted.
"Because I need money?" It was something between an answer and a question, you had never thought anyone would ask you why you decided making your own money was a good idea.
"Hey, it's okay. We'll do it another time okay?" Debby concluded, as you finally entered the school and Jess saw her boyfriend in the distance, talking to other jocks, all in their sparkly green and white school uniforms.
"Hey Beck!" She raised a hand to get the boy's attention and waved at him at the same time, trotting towards him and instantly forgetting you.
"God, she's so in love with him." Debby commented dreamily still by your side, looking at her friend from afar.
You saw the possessive way Beck kissed his girlfriend and then put his arm around her and held her close as he continued to talk to his friends, his hand was basically on her ass. "Mh, i guess she is. I really don't like that guy, anyway."
"How couldn't you? The whole school is as in love with Beck as they are with Jason." She waved at the blond boy who was now laughing at something a member of the basketball team had just said.
"Yeah, I don't like Jason either." You shrugged.
"That's impossible. He's one of the hottest guys I've ever seen."
"Debs, I'm not talking about his physical appearance. I don't like him as a person. I don't like how he behaves and how he treats people around him."
Debby looked at you for a moment with a slight smile on her lips as if she expected me to suddenly tell her you were joking.
"See you later in class, okay?"
You shook your head, thinking it was almost pointless to voice your opinion to people like her.
"Sure, see you later."
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Biology class was silent as the teacher explained the reproduction of cells through mitosis.
From your desk almost at the back of the room, you could see that Jess and Beck had no idea what the the tracher was talking about and kept exchanging notes probably filled with hearts and written in pink marker, you could see that the quiet boy at the first desk was just pretending to listen and that his gaze often fell on the window, probably fantasizing about what he saw outside, and finally, to your surprise, you could see that Eddie Munson, for the first time, had a pen in his hand he seemed to be writing.
Eddie Munson was a guy you never quite understood, both before you had a few classes together and after.
He didn't seem to be very interested in school, his grades or the way he responded to the teachers but it was already the second time he was repeating his last year of high school, proving that deep down, maybe, he didn't want to dropout.
He seemed to like to make all Hawkings think he was the mean and scary cultist people already thought he was yet he spent his free time playing a fantasy board game with freshmen, making them feel accepted in a school in which if you were considered even remotely different you could consider yourself doomed.
Eddie Munson was unusual and one of those people you wanted to get to know and understand what he was really like just because seen from an outside point of view, he seemed like an enigma.
"Well well well, what do we have here, Mr Munson?"
Mr. Walker's voice pulled you out of your thoughts and your head, like that of all your classmates, snapped towards Eddie.
That was the moment you realized that the whole time, Eddie wasn't taking notes but he was drawing something that you couldn't quite see from where you were.
"Oh-oh, someone's in trouble." You heard someone chuckle.
The teacher took the paper from Eddie's hands and looked at it with a wicked smile on his lips. "And what is this supposed to be?"
A slight smirk appeared on Eddie's lips. "Shouldn't you know? You studied animals and that stuff, right?"
The teacher chuckled as he crumpled up the paper and walked over to the bin next to his desk, dropping it among the day's other rubbish.
"I bet the freak will repeat the year for the third time." You hear Beck whisper and Jess laugh right after.
"I won't send you to detention again because I really want this year to be your last." The teacher continued, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Eddie with a severe look. "But if you still don't pay attention to the lessons, you won't give us any other choice. Okay?"
"Okay." Eddie replied after a moment of silence, the way he said it vaguely recalled the professor's tone and you were sure he did it to make fun of him, the smirk on his lips was still there.
After one last glare Mr.Walker sat down again behind his desk and continued reading from the book.
The last laughs faded and the last gazes on Eddie returned to the notebooks, except yours.
You saw how his cocky expression gave way in less than a second when he thought no one was paying attention to him anymore, you saw how he closed his eyes for a moment, huffing as if the existence of the possibility of repeating the year for the third time suddently hit him, while passing a hand over his face with a tired expression.
The look in his eyes was far from the one they had when he teased jocks or made speeches on top of the cafeteria tables.
He had just dropped his facade and no one had even noticed.
You can't deny that for the rest of the lesson you kept eyeing him, only to find him propped up on his elbows on his desk, playing with the rings on his fingers.
When the bell rang Eddie was the first to get up, he grabbed his jacket and darted out of the classroom without once looking back.
You, on the other hand, were the last to leave, after placing your books back in your bag, but as soon as you stepped out the door an idea crossed your mind.
Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was even useless. You didn't even know why you were doing it.
You went back to class for a brief moment, grabbed Eddie's drawing from the bin, folded it quickly without even having time to look at it, stuffed it in your pocket and headed off to the next class.
You told yourself you'd probably never even get the chance to give it back to him.
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"You'll be at the match later, right?" Jess asked as she walked down the hallway next to you after the last bell of the day had rung.
"Mh, maybe." You murmured, thinking of a possible excuse to come up with.
"What do you mean with 'maybe'? What do you have to do this time? Debby said she'll be there."
"Actually, not much, I just gotta go the library to get some books."
"Okay, it won't take a lot. The game starts in half an hour so you have plenty of time." She smiled.
"Yeah, sure. Then I guess I'll be there." You said as you stopped in front of the school library.
"Kay, see you later!" She waved at you before heading towards the gym.
"Good morning Miss Cooper." You greeted the lady behind the desk as soon as you entered the library.
"Hi dear, I close in about fifteen minutes. You know, with the match and everything I don't think many students will come here."
You looked around, the only people who seemed to be there were two girls sitting in the corner and a teacher putting down some books he had borrowed.
"Then I'll try to make it quick." You said before disappearing among the shelves.
The school library was bigger than any student who had never set foot inside could have imagined. You often had found the right books to complete a history or literature honework, and many more times you found books that you enjoyed reading in your spare time, while waiting for customers at the record store where you worked or during boring classes.
Yeah, Eddie Munson wasn't the only one who didn't always pay attention to what the teachers were saying.
While you were there, between the fantasy and horror sections (which were right at the back of the library, almost in the dark, as if whoever had put those books there had wanted to hide them) your thoughts returned to Eddie and you remembered that his drawing was still in your jeans back pocket and you hadn't seen it yet.
You put your bag down on the floor and took the paper out of your back pocket.
It was an animal, that was why he had made that joke to the biology teacher.
The creature looked like a lion but it had a second head that looked like a goat and its tail was a snake. You knew what a chimera was and that drawing looked like it came straight out of a mythology book.
You didn't know Eddie could draw so well and you were sorry Mr. Walker hadn't thought before crumpling it up and throwing him in the bin like it was trash.
Boom.
A sudden noise made you jump.
Boom. Again.
You quickly put the drawing in your bag and walked towards the source of the noise but what you saw was one of the last things you ever expected.
You peeped over a shelf to observe the scene.
Eddie Munson slammed his fists on the closed library door before trying to pull the handle down and failing to open.
"Hello? Is anyone out there? Is this a prank or what?" He asked to whoever was on the other side of the door.
He slammed his hands on the door one last time. "Awesome, really, really awesome." He snorted talking to himself and probably thinking he was alone, then he turned around.
His gaze fell on you. "Jesus Christ." He put a hand to his chest like you scared the shit out of him and you couldn't help but chuckle. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone was kinder.
"What people usually do in libraries. I was looking for books."
"Oh, I think you'll have enough time to read a lot of books, we're stuck here."
You walked to the door as Eddie took off his jacket and left it on Miss. Cooper's desk, revealing his Metallica shirt. Then he sat on it, after moving a pen holder, dangling his legs.
You tried to open the door three times and when you realized there was no hope to go out you gave up and sat down in one of the chairs, facing Eddie.
"Oh my god." You whispered.
"It's okay, don't panic. Someone will notice you're missing and they'll come looking for you." You noticed the way he said "you" as if there was no way anyone would notice he was missing.
"I'm not panicking. I just found an excuse not to go to the game!" You smiled a little too enthusiastically.
"Excuse me, what?" Eddie shook his head as if he was sure he had misunderstood ehat you had said and his curls bounced on his shoulders.
"I've been trying to find an excuse not to go to that stupid match all day. Now I can say I've been stuck in the library."
Eddie made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a laugh, amazed at your reaction. "You know, not to judge, but it's really weird that you're happy to be locked in a room with Eddie "the freak" Munson."
"Well... are you gonna sacrifice me to the devil?" You asked with a slight raise of your eyebrows and the ghost of a smile on your lips; Eddie was surprised for the second time: you were joking with him.
"Mh, no?"
"Okay, then we're good."
Eddie chuckled, ducking his head as if to hide his smile and you found yourself wishing he didn't do it anymore.
"What did you come for?" You asked then.
"For what people usually do in libraries. I was looking for books." He repeated your words with a smirk.
"Ah-ah" your laugh was far from genuine but the corners of Eddie's lips curled up anyway. "Has anyone ever told you that you're really funny?" You asked ironically.
"It may surprise you, but I think you have the honor of being the first." Eddie followed your movements with his eyes as you stood up from your chair and took a few steps between the shelves. Soon the sun would go down and you wouldn't even see the titles of books anymore without the sunbeams filtering through the windows.
"Are you coming or not?" You turned back to him, as if it was obvious you wanted him to come with you.
"Where?" He asked as he jumped off the desk reluctantly.
"To find the perfect book for you."
"Oh, I don't think that-"
"Fantasy and horror are in the back."
The smile you were starting to like returned on his lips. "Lead the way."
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"Where the fuck is she?" Jess asked Debby during the first break of the game, placing her pom-poms on the bench next to her.
"I don't know, she said she would come. You were the last one to see her."
"She said she had to do something really quick and then she'd come. Tomorrow she will come up with a stupid excuse like always."
"She's been getting a lot weird lately, I don't know what's going on with her."
"Yeah, I thought so too."
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Your laughter once again filled the library as the patter of the incessant rain that had been falling for almost an hour continued.
You never thought you'd spend so much time with Eddie one day, but apparently you were wrong. You enjoyed staying there with him.
"I swear it's a good one."
Eddie put all the books you convinced him to take on Miss Cooper's desk.
"It talks about a girl." He commented, as if that was all it took to not be a good book.
"Who has superpowers! Trust me, it's a good book. Near the end there's a lot of blood and stuff."
"Oh well, if 'there's a lot of blood and stuff' then I really should read it."
"Stop making fun me!" You hit his shoulder.
"Ouch!"
"I didn't hurt you."
"Yes, you did."
You rolled your eyes. "Read that damn book. Then tell me if you liked it."
"Well well well, do you wanna keep talking to me when we'll get out of here? Won't you pretend you don't know me?" He questioned, trying to figure out if you were lying.
"Why should I? Are you..." You hesitated "You're cool, I like you."
Eddie studied you for a moment. "You know, Y/N, I think you're a bit of a freak too."
You laughed, glancing at the books leaning on the desk. A weird creature caught your eye and you remembered Eddie's drawing.
"God, I almost forgot!" You took your bag in your hands, looking for the page. "I hope you don't think it's weird. I…I saved your drawing from the bin."
You handed him the paper, it was still a lot wrinkled but it was certainly in a better condition than when the teacher had thrown it in the trash.
Eddie stared at you.
He always had that way of looking at you with his big brown eyes that looked a lot like an animal that doesn't want to show that it's scared but is still reluctant to approach anyone.
He grabbed it slowly. "Why did you save it?"
"I wanted to see what you were drawing. It turned out to be worth it. It's really good."
"It turned out I was right."
You looked at him questioningly.
"You're a bit of a freak too. You put your hands in the trash to get a drawing of someone you didn't even know." He laughed again and you did the same.
You realized you liked the dimples that formed on his face when he smiled.
He took one last look at the drawing before carefully folding it and putting it in his pocket.
"Thank you." He finally said, sincere.
"Anytime."
Eddie's gaze fell on something behind you.
You turned around but didn't see anything different from moments before.
"What?"
"The window, Y/N, the window!" The excitement in his voice didn't even let you realize it was the first time he'd called you by your name.
"The window what?"
"We can get out through the window!" It seemed that at any moment he might start jumping from one side of the room to another.
You walked to the window where the rain continued to beat while Eddie looked behind you for something. "Looks quite high."
"And that's why we're going to need this." When you turned around Eddie was already setting up the ladder under the window after quickly putting on his jacket again.
"God, where did you find that?"
"I saw it earlier in the romance section."
"Were you checking the romance section?" You smirked.
"I walked past it, okay?" He rolled her eyes as he climbed the first rung of the ladder.
"Wait, should I go first?" He asked before going up.
"Go. Don't kill yourself when you jump to the other side."
"Who would care if I die?" He joked. Or you hoped he was.
"I would care! If they found me with your corpse who would they think sacrificed to the devil who?"
Eddie laughed again, shaking his head then opened the window. Lots of raindrops started falling on the library floor.
He sat on the edge before jumping over to the other side.
"Agh!"
"Shit, are you okay?" Your words left your mouth too quickly, your tone far too concerned about someone you've only known for a few hours.
No reply.
"Eddie, I swear-" You said starting up the ladder, the raindrops that passed through the open window falling on your face and in your hair.
"I'm fine!" He laughed.
"Thanks for your quick response." You commented ironically, not before breathing a sigh of relief.
"Aw, were you scared I was hurt?" You sat on the edge, now you could see his smirk as he looked up at you.
Most of his curls had gotten wet and stuck to his forehead and neck.
He was still pretty.
"Shut up."
"You were scared I was hurt!" He exclaimed, laughing, this time he was sure.
"Are you going to keep teasing me or are you going to help me get down from here?"
"Right, sorry." He reached out a hand and helped you jump. His fingers were warm, and having his palm against yours, even if only for a moment, gave you an indescribable feeling of security and safety.
"You okay?" He asked when you both finally got your feet on the ground.
"Yeah." His hand was still holding yours.
"Good."
"STAY FUCKING AWAY FROM HER!" Voices from behind you instantly made you turn around and before you know it Beck and Jason were pushing Eddie away from you. His hand slipped away from yours.
It seemed like the game was over.
"Are you okay? What happened?" Jess and Debby asked you, claiming you by the arm. "Did he hurt you?" Their tone was concerned and almost frightened.
"Hey, hey okay!" You tried to calm everyone down. "Eddie and I got locked in the library and went out the window, that's all."
You noticed that Jason's hands were still gripping Eddie's shirt, like he was ready to bail on him and beat him until he couldn't even remember his name at any moment.
The rain continued to fall incessantly on you, somewhere in the distance a thunder rumbled.
"Jason, leave him."
"Did he-"
"NO! STOP FUCKING ASKING!" You placed a hand on Jason's chest and pushed him away.
For a moment no one spoke. Like everyone was amazed that you didn't seem bothered by Eddie or that he hadn't done you anything wrong in the hours you'd spent locked in the library with him.
They were all looking at you with shocked expressions painted on their faces.
"Could you give me a lift home, please?" You turned to Eddie and this time he seemed to be the shocked one.
He pushed a strand of wet hair away from his eyes. "Yeah. Yes, of course I can."
"Okay, thank you." You kindly placed a hand on his back, as if urging him to leave. "Let's go."
You didn't say goodbye to any of the four students who watched you leave with Eddie "the freak" Munson and you didn't turn once as you walked beside him to his van.
You didn't know exactly how many friends you had just lost but you certainly knew you had a new one.
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Part 2
Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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I am the First Son of the United States, and I'm bisexual. ALEX CLAREMONT-DIAZ | RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE (2023)
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babypursesuitcasecolor · 10 months
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must be a kind of blind love
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(older!modern!eddie - interlude blurbie) orange colored sky setlist
a/n: wrote this little older!eddie blurbie in honor of me needing glasses. my birthday is tomorrow so consider this an early present from me. this doesn't have to fit in order of any time line, it's just cute and fluffy. however, there are some exciting revelations in here.
tw: references to smut, foul language, otherwise pretty tame. idiots in love.
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"Yyyyell-o." "You gotta stop answering the phone like that, Ed."
"It's how I always answer the phone, baby -- it's like a muscle memory."
"Ooh, muscle memory, big word for you," you chuckle, you can hear him click clacking against his keyboard on the other end, "You busy?"
"Not too busy, you okay?" he asks, the click clacking slows down to a stop, you hear the roll of his desk chair and some shuffling, the sound of an iPhone being unplugged from his computer.
"So um, I just left the doctors..."
"Okay before you finish what you're saying, I need you to never start a phone call with 'I just left the doctors...' fours days after we had sex," he interrupts, "We clear on that?"
You laugh, it's hearty and bubbly, enough to calm him from the heart racing 'what ifs' running through his head, "Yes, we're clear -- but you knew I had this doctor's appointment!"
"I know, but still -- how'd it go? Everything good?"
"Well..." you start, "It was an eye doctor appointment, like, an optometrist."
"I know what an optomestrist is, baby girl," he says sweetly, "But thank you for clarifying."
"Anyway I went and got my eyes check and uh..." you trail off, not wanting to say it. You can hear the low giggle coming from his throat, practically see the smile in his next sentence.
"Aw, you need glasses, don't you, peach?" he smirks into his question, heading down the metal staircase into the kitchen to refill his coffee cup.
"Yeah," you say poutily, "And now my eyes hurt cause they did dialysis on my eyes I mean -- dialated my eyes, whoops."
"I would hope they didn't perform dialysis on your eyes, jesus," he still can't hold back his gruff giggle, "Is it bad? What's your perscription?"
"I think it's honestly just an astigmatism? But better safe than sorry," you explain, "Don't make fun of me."
"Oh baby, I'm gonna make fun of you," Eddie pops the mug into the microwave, "Now you know how I feel every time you tell me to put my glasses on. Not fun gettin' old, is it?"
"You make it look pretty fun," you shrug, walking over to the train. The printed out paper with your perscription on it is blinding outside, the white glaring into your dilated pupils, "Fuck that's bright."
"I'm almost done with work for today, you wanna just come to mine?" he asks, "We can go look for frames for you."
"You're gonna be mean," you complain, "I don't like when you're mean."
"I won't be mean, I promise."
"Do you want me to come over?" you ask.
He bites his tongue, wanting to reply with a snappy 'Would I have invited you if I didn't?' but he can tell you just need the reassurance.
"I'd love to see you," his voice warm honey while it drips into the receiver, "Of course I want you to come over. You getting on the train?"
"Yeah I'm like, maybe twenty minutes way," you smile.
"Well then I'll see you in twenty, okay?" "Okay."
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He spends the first couple minutes teasing you when you get in to get it out of his system, peppering you with kisses when your fake pout gets too cute for him. Eddie gives you his glasses to try on but you squint.
"These are too blurry," you shake your head, scrunching your nose in a way that has him melting.
"Well that's cause my visions a little worse than yours," he shrugs, plucking them off your face by the bridge and popping them onto his own.
"I think your glasses are nice," you shrug, "They make you look handsome."
"Handsome, huh?" he quirks a brow, "I think they make me look like my uncle. He's like, 74."
"You don't look 74," you roll your eyes.
"No?"
"No, babe," you say sweetly, tilting your head when you look at him, "You look at least 72."
He clicks his tongue and puffs out a breath, "How did I know?"
"You love it," you smirk, kissing his cheek and then the tip of his nose.
"Yeah, yeah, I love it," he nods along, tilting his head up to kiss your lips. He pulls you in close to him, taking a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island where you stand between his thighs.
Yeah, yeah, I love it. I love you. I think I love you.
"When your eyes feel a little less blurry you wanna look for some frames?" he asks, noses touching. You nod, feeling safe in his hold, eyes fluttering closed when he kisses your cheek. Eddie's full lips kiss from your cheek to your jaw, to the top of your neck -- implying all the ideas he has in mind to pass the time.
"We can fool around if you want," he asks against your skin, "That sound good to you, four eyes?"
You groan into a laugh, shoving him lightly off you, "Fuck you."
Laughing in the kitchen together is his new favorite past time.
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Cat-eye, round, square, wire-rimmed, low brow -- there's too many options. You chew on your lower lip looking at the walls of frames, trying to not get in the way of other people while they grab pairs to try on in the brightly lit mirrors.
"Where do I even start?" you ask yourself, feeling Eddie close behind you. His hand presses against your mid back, leading you over to a wall that doesn't have people crowded around it. It gives you a moment to breathe, he rubs your shoulder as it relaxes.
"What types of sunglasses to you normally wear?" he asks, "That's a good place to start."
You had a few fake pairs of Raybans, a couple cat-eye frames from when you were in your early twenties. One pair of rimless glasses from a 90s party that you don't totally hate. You reach for the Wayferer shaped ones, wire rim bottom and flat top -- you find it accentuates your brows in a way that isn't quite right. They sit uneven on your face.
"These are awful," you mumble, taking them off.
"No they're not," he assures. He grabs a few pairs that are sort of ridiculous just to get you laughing -- big wild pairs with bright colors, a pair of transition lens aviators that look straight out of a serial killer movie, exaggerated cat eye lenses that he said his great aunt would've worn in the 80s. He heals every tease with a gentle kiss to your temple or forehead just over the bridge of your nose.
Eventually he starts looking at sunglasses for himself while you gain the confidence to go for it on your own. It's not lost on him when some of the ladies who work there come over to see if he needs help that they're flirting, and to be fair, he's never one to not indulge. You catch his eye in an opposite mirror where he gives you a wink -- he blushes when you roll your eyes in return.
You finally think you've settled on a pair you like, one that surprises you. Thin wire rimmed, brushed gold, they sit slightly round over your face, dipping a bit onto the tops of your cheeks. They don't accentuate whatever is happening with your brow line, they almost feel like they're supposed to be there. Your next thought sounds like your mom in your ear -- They go with everything!
You push your hair back, seeing if you'll still like them with your hair out of the way and down again. You snap a picture -- well, you snap a few. You don't hate it.
"Hey," you call out, tapping on his shoulder when you get behind him, "What do you think?"
Eddie turns, smoothly taking off the new sunglasses he was considering, "Lemme see."
"Oh honey," he coos, "Oh my god you look like a sweet little secretary."
"Stop," you laugh, heat hitting your cheeks at his praise. "Gotta get you a type writer so you can come work for me," he eggs on playfully, "You can screen all my calls. Maybe earn some over time..."
"Don't be annoying," you chide, slapping at his arm when he snakes it around you.
"No, peach you look so sweet," he gushes, "Really."
"I don't look like a nerd?" you ask, looking into the mirror again.
"Of course you do," he confirms, "But that's what I like about them. Plus, they go with everything."
"We'll be like twins," you say with a nudge, "Yours are sort of like this but silver."
"You're right," he nods, "Look at that, nerds in love."
He gives you a quick kiss -- but both of your hearts sink when the weight of what he says hits both your ears. Nerds in love.
In love.
In love.
You hear him swallow and you do the same. There's a jitter to both of you after, like both of you are pretending to not have heard that sentence. Like it didn't happen.
"So you like these ones?" he asks, voice cracking like a teenager. He clears his throat before flagging over one of the women who offered to help him before, "Can we uh, can we get these set up with her prescription?"
The woman's smile is dazzling, perfect for retail -- you'd buy anything she told you to buy. She takes the pair in your hand and goes to work, calling you both over to the iPads by the check out desk to get the order in. Your heart hammers while you make your way over.
"Ed, I don't even know how much those cost," you say under your breath.
"It doesn't matter," he mumbles back, "You're not paying for 'em."
"Ed," you protest, "No." You shake your head, the serious look on your face makes his chest hot with embarrassment.
But he's quick, he's a loverboy for a reason, "Just think of it as insurance for all the jokes I get to make at your expense. I'm earning my right to bully you by buying them."
"You're so dumb," you huff, taking his hand while he reaches out to you to place your order.
"You love it."
"Yeah, yeah, I love it."
I love it, you think, I think I love you.
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