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#and now it's taylor and eddie's turn
steddielations · 5 months
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Wayne pov, implied neglect, abandonment
Wayne gets a call from Hawkins Elementary that Eddie hasn’t been to school in two days.
They couldn’t get ahold of Al on the phone, as usual. Wayne hopes his suspicions are wrong, but he already knows what he’s going to find when he shows up to the shabby old house on Philadelphia street with a McDonald’s bag in hand.
His knock on the door goes unanswered, but he sees small fingers and big round eyes peeking through the side window blinds. 
“Hey, Eddie, it’s your Uncle Wayne. Open the door, it’s alright.”
Eddie shuffles away from the window, but there’s still no answer.
“You hungry? I brought those nugget things you like, that’s all. Some kinda toy in here too.”
After a moment, the door slowly opens a sliver. One big button eye peeks through the crack and a pale skinny arm reaches out.
Wayne hands over the food. “Gonna let me come inside?” 
Eddie’s arm snakes back in with the bag like a claw machine. But after another moment, the door swings open fully, revealing Eddie in rumpled clothes at least a couple days worn. The shadows under his eyes tell Wayne all he needs to know.
“Dad’s gone to the store,” Eddie smiles nervously, he didn’t inherit Al’s ability to lie behind it. “He said he’ll be right back.”
Wayne just nods as he comes inside. One look around confirms what he already knew. By the window, there’s a blanket and a scatter of candy wrappers and empty soda cans where Eddie’s been sleeping. Waiting and watching the driveway for Al.
This wouldn’t be the first time Al’s gone off and left Eddie to fend for himself. Wayne’s been helping out as much as he can since Eddie’s poor mama passed. He doesn’t know much about raising kids but he knows Al’s one dumb selfish bastard to be leaving Eddie alone for days since the ripe age of 8.
Wayne ignores the twist in his chest and the stab of anger he feels and doesn’t mention it. He follows Eddie to the coffee table in front of the couch where Eddie digs into the McDonald’s sack.
“School called and said you weren’t there. You feelin’ bad?” He reaches out, gently pushing back Eddie’s wild curls to feel his forehead. He’s surprised Eddie lets him, too busy scarfing down chicken nuggets. “No fever.” Wayne notes, but Eddie’s hair needs a good wash.
Eddie’s narrow shoulders slump a bit. He doesn’t look at Wayne, tearing open his chocolate milk with his teeth. 
“I just— didn’t wanna go today. I hate school. Miss Taylor always gives me a bad behavior grade even when I act the best in class. She calls me Junior. Munson Junior.”
“Thought you liked being called Junior. Like your dad.”
Eddie shrugs, those shadows darkening on him. “Everyone forgets I have my own name too. Sometimes I just wanna be Eddie.”
Already, he’s feeling the weight of his last name. Al taught him to hotwire the second he turned 10 and how to pick locks even before that. Munson tradition, Al wouldn’t listen when Wayne told him that’s bullshit. What seem like cool tricks to Eddie now already make him guilty in everyone’s eyes. Wayne’s been feeling it all his life, thanks to his old man and now Eddie’s got Al to thank for making it even worse.
“That’s good, you just keep reminding them,” Wayne says, being careful with his next words. “When you finish that, why don’t you go pack a bag, alright? You can come stay with me until your dad gets back.”
Eddie goes stiff, chewing slower now. “It— it hasn’t been long. He said he’d be right back.” His eyes drift over to Wayne, checking to see if he buys it. Wayne doesn’t. So Eddie huffs, “I wanna stay here. I hate the trailer park.”
That’s just him repeating Al’s shit talk, so Wayne doesn’t take offense. “Your friend’s been askin’ about you. That little girl next door.”
Eddie perks up at that, “Ronnie?” Wayne nods and thinks that does the trick for a second, but Eddie stubbornly sulks again. “I can’t go. Dad told me to stay here until he gets back.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be here alone. You don’t have to be.”
“I’m not scared to stay by myself,” Eddie insists, sitting up straighter, looking even younger trying to look older. “Dad said I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m 10 now and I can look after myself. He taught me to use the stove and everything. I always do fine on my own.”
“So he’s been leaving a lot, then? You know you can call me to come pick you up,” Wayne tries not to frame it like it’s Eddie’s fault, pointing to where his phone number is pinned on the fridge with a magnet.
Eddie’s lip wobbles despite how he tries to square his jaw.
“There’s nothing wrong.”
“You ain’t—”
“You said to call if I need you and I don’t need you, Wayne! I'm fine!”
Eddie shoves the food away, his eyes wide and shiny when he cuts them back to Wayne. Not glaring with anger, just hurt. 
“It’s not fine,” Wayne tells him, gentle as the first time he held him, just a tiny thing all bundled up in Elizabeth’s knitting. “Your dad’s got his head in his ass again. You can’t stay here on your own, no matter what he said. I ain’t leaving you by yourself.”
“I’m not going.” Eddie’s more pleading now than arguing. “I have to stay here so Dad can find me when he gets back. Don’t you get that? If I’m not here, I won’t see him.”
That’s what it’s really about, Eddie thinking it’s his responsibility to keep up with his Dad. Instead of the other way around.
“If he comes looking for you, he’ll know where to find you.” But Al won’t. It’s never Eddie that he comes back for. Wayne doesn’t tell Eddie that, but now Eddie’s starting to learn that on his own. Al proved it to him time and time again.
“Why do you even care?” Eddie’s angry now. But it’s not really Wayne that he’s mad at. They both know that.
“It’s alright, son, c’mon now.” Wayne reaches for him but Eddie quickly pushes his hand away.
“You aren’t my dad.” Tears escape with the words, and seeing his pain hurts Wayne more than anything he could say, or do. He pushes Wayne again. “So why do you care? Why are you here?”
He doesn’t need an answer, he just needs to let it out.
So Wayne sits there while Eddie shoves his chest and cries harder, “You aren’t my dad. Why do you care?” Wayne curls his hands around Eddie’s smaller ones as the question turns to, “Why aren’t you?” Then it’s a broken little sob of, “Why aren’t you my dad?”
Wayne catches Eddie when he finally tires himself out, and instead of pushing Wayne away, Eddie’s clinging to him. Eddie’s holding on like Wayne’s all he’s got left in the world. Wayne hugs Eddie to his chest, wishing there was more he could do.
Al put a hole in Eddie and he’s digging it deeper everyday, one that Wayne won’t ever quite fit into. He tries to fill it the best he can, giving Eddie the only bedroom in the trailer, going to the talent show because Al never makes good on his promises to be there for Eddie, not letting Eddie stay in this damn house alone waiting for someone who’s never gonna show up. Maybe Wayne’s not that someone, but he can still be here for Eddie. And he’s gonna be.
“C’mon, let’s get you outta here.”
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andvys · 2 months
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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 29
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Warnings: major angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of an ED. get your tissues out, brace yourself for some pain. I cried and so will you. I'm so sorry for this.
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Steve shows up at your doorsteps and you take care of him, the way you always did.
Word count: 10.5k+
A/N: shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, I couldn't do this without you Roe, I would've given up, this was so hard for me to write. I need therapy now. Also thank you to my sweet angel bff @taintedcigs for being there for me while I was losing it, you're both real ones
To make this even sadder, listen to the 1, the last time, betty, the outro of all too well by Taylor Swift. Oh and Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers. Thank me later.
series masterlist
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It’s still pouring, the rain is still rolling down your closed windows and the lightning continues to crash through the sky. You can’t fall asleep. You’ve been trying to since you came home, but you can’t. You thought a hot shower would help make you tired, but it didn’t. Now you’re laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling.
You are too giddy to fall asleep. Your heart is still racing. Your skin still feels on fire. You can’t even fight the smile off your face. You feel his hands on your body, his lips on your skin, him. You regret not letting him come home with you. Your bed has never felt emptier. You turn to look at the telephone on your nightstand, contemplating giving him a call but you decide against it when you take a look at the clock, it’s 3am. He must be sleeping already. 
Your eyes fall on the picture that wiped the smile off your face when you walked into your room earlier. A sigh falls from your lips. You need to talk to him. You need to talk to Steve. 
This night has changed everything. 
Your feelings have changed. They have evolved into something even bigger. You have been aware of your feelings for Eddie for a while now, but you never let them out completely. You were too afraid, too scared to get rejected, too scared to lose him because you once again, couldn’t stop yourself from falling for your best friend. 
Your best friend who wants you just as much as you want him. 
Your stomach flutters and a smile tugs at your lips – your lips that are still tingling from the feeling of all the kisses. You touch them, closing your eyes as you picture him, the way he held you, the way he said your name, the way he couldn’t get enough of you, the way he was so proud to call himself yours. He’s been dreaming about this, he’s been dreaming about you for months.
You never thought that you could feel this way again. You never thought that you could smile again at the thought of someone else. You never thought that you would love again. 
Not after him. 
Steve had shattered your heart in a million pieces. He stripped you of your powers. He took everything away from you. He made you doubt yourself and everyone around you. You suffered for weeks and months, not knowing how to keep going, not knowing how to get out of bed every morning. You stopped eating. You stopped reading. You lost your joy in the things you used to love doing. You felt so lost and hopeless but you forced yourself to keep going. It felt like learning how to walk again. 
But you weren’t alone, you had the people who cared for you. 
But most importantly, you had him. Eddie was there. Eddie was there for you, every step of the way. He never left, not even on your worst days. He was there, he was always there and he stayed. 
Your heart skips a beat and your chest fills with warmth when you think of all the times he cheered you up and gave you a shoulder to cry on. When he took care of you despite you not asking him to. He stopped by the coffee shop every morning to get you a coffee and some breakfast, sometimes he came late to school because of it but he didn’t care. He’d take you out to the diner, knowing that you haven’t been eating, he brought you your favorite snacks for movie nights. He knew you were struggling to eat and he did everything to help you without pressuring you to talk about something that he knew would make you uncomfortable. 
He gave you the reassurance that you needed.
He took care of you in ways no one else ever did. 
And he never asked for anything back either.
He just did it because he wanted to, because he cares about you, because you mean something to him, because you always meant something to him, because you were always something more than a friend to him and he always wanted what’s best for you. All while watching you pine after a guy who broke your heart. He even gave you hope that maybe, you and Steve could find your way back to each other someday – all just because he wanted you to be happy. 
You don’t know what comes over you, but tears well up in your eyes. 
Eddie always just wanted you to be happy. 
You sit up, no longer wanting to wait for the next day to come, you need to see him now. 
You throw the cover off your body, your bare feet hit the soft carpet. Your hair is still a little wet from the shower you took but you couldn’t care less. You turn on the light on your nightstand before you rush over to your closet and pick out a sweater, not bothering to change into jeans or a skirt, you leave your plaid pajama pants on and throw the black sweater over your head. 
Your heart is pounding in excitement when you think about how he kissed you before you left, how he didn’t want to leave, how he wanted more and more. You can’t wait to do it again. You can’t wait to pull him into a kiss, to hug him, to tell him what you should’ve told him a long time ago. 
You take a look in the mirror, smoothing out your hair a little, you put perfume on your skin before you turn around and leave your room, slowly creeping down the stairs, not wanting to wake your mom. You leave the light off as you slip into your Vans, you grab your car keys and you open the door, about to step into night but the smile that was lingering on your face fades away so quickly when you find Steve on your doorsteps. 
Steve who was just about to ring the doorbell. 
Steve who is soaked from the rain, despite driving here. You can see his BMW in your driveway. How long has he been standing out in the rain? 
It takes you a moment to realize the state he is in. 
His face is not only soaked from the rain, it’s also soaked with tears. His eyes are red and glassy. His bottom lip is trembling. His body is shaking and you don’t know whether it’s from the tears or the cold rain. He is barely standing and as you take a step closer, you can smell the whiskey in his breath. 
Your heart drops to your stomach when you realize that he drove here drunk. 
“Steve?” You whisper as though in disbelief. 
What is he doing here at 3am? Why is he crying? 
Drops of water roll down his face, his hazel eyes are filled with pain as tears continue to fall from them. 
He says your name with a pained voice, shakily and sadly. 
“I-I needed to see you.”
Your heart breaks at the trembling in his voice. 
You furrow your brows, looking him up and down in concern. 
What happened to him?
“Dolly, I’m so– I’m so sorry,” he slurs as a sob falls from his lips. He loses his balance and stumbles forward, almost crashing to the ground, but you catch him, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him up as best as you can. He instantly latches onto you, pulling you against him and holding you tightly. 
You blink in confusion, your heart starts pounding faster. 
He is crying, he is still crying, holding you tighter than before as he buries his face in your neck. You let him. Despite the confusion that is rushing through you, you let him hold you like this for a moment, only letting go to close the front door and taking the keys from his hands, before you wrap your arms around him again. The rain is soaking through your clothes, his tears are falling onto you, he is holding you so tightly, like he’s afraid to let you go. 
“It’s okay,” you whisper as you rub his back, not knowing what else to do. 
Did he get into a fight with his dad again? 
“I got you, Steve.”
Your words seem to make it even worse though, his body starts shaking even more as soft sobs fall from his lips. He grabs the material of your sweater so tightly, mumbling incoherent words into your neck. 
You feel so helpless, not knowing what to do or what to say, so you just hold him. 
This happened before, him showing up at your house in the middle of the night, drunk out of his mind with tears streaming down his face, he collapsed into your arms the moment you opened the door, rambling and slurring out words. You later on found out that he had gotten into a fight with his dad about his grades and his future. 
But that wasn’t all, you just don’t know the rest of the story, Steve never told you about the things his dad had said to him – how you would leave if he didn’t get his shit together, how you would go off to college by yourself and learn how to live without him, how he would stay back in Hawkins while you would live your life somewhere else without him. 
He is sobbing quietly, keeping his face buried in your neck, melting further into your arms. 
“Steve,” you whisper as you rub your hand up and down his spine. You longingly look at the keys you’re still holding, a soft sigh falling from your lips. You won’t see him tonight. “Come on.” 
“N-No,” he mumbles, thinking you want him to leave. 
“Let’s go upstairs, Steve.” 
You let go of him and grab his arms softly, trying to move back. 
He sniffles as he loosens his grip on you, leaning back, he looks at you through his glassy eyes. He takes in the sight of your face, taking a moment to look at you. 
You don’t know what’s going on in his troubled mind but his eyes tell you that he is suffering, and looking at you, makes him cry even harder. Though this time, he presses his lips together, trying not to sob. 
Your own eyes fill with sadness the longer you look at him. You move your palm down his arm, taking his hand, you hold it tightly as you lead him towards the stairs. You drop both yours and his keys on the counter, taking another sad look at them before you turn to Steve, making sure that he doesn’t stumble again. He is taking slow but shaky steps, holding your hand tighter than before. 
You look up, hoping that you didn’t wake your mom. 
You step into your room and you close the door after he walks in, noticing that you forgot to turn off the light earlier. 
His sniffles quiet down and you think the worst is over, that he calmed down after letting his tears fall, the tears that he probably kept in for way too long. Steve rarely ever cries or breaks down, he hates it, he hates being vulnerable. So, he keeps it in and he lets all his emotions pile up until there’s no space left. 
A look around your room, a glance at a picture of you and him, and the closed window is enough to make him cry again. He lets go of you and hides his face behind his hands. 
You feel so lost and don’t know what to do. Not even the worst fight with his dad resulted in this. Your own eyes well up with tears, your heart breaks at the sound of his cries. He once again, collapses into your arms the moment you take a step towards him, this time you lose your balance and your knees buckle causing you both to fall. You drop to your knees as he does too, still holding onto you, tighter than before if that is even possible. He wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in your chest this time. 
“Steve,” you whisper shakily, on the verge of breaking down yourself when he clings to you like he never did before. You know it must be bad. 
He feels your hand running down his back, cupping the back of his head, trying to calm him down as you do your best to comfort him. He breathes you in, something that makes his heart shatter even more. 
“I-I ruined everything,” he sobs into your chest. “I ruined you, I broke your heart, I broke you,” he slurs. “I-I was.. I found your note, I never read it. I never said I love you, I just, I didn’t say it back, I didn’t say I love you, I didn’t– I put it away, I didn’t read it until now.” 
Oh. 
Now you understand. 
You furrow your brows and your eyes blur with tears. 
It doesn’t break your heart to find out that he never read that note, it didn’t matter anyway, he dumped you the next day. You got your answer. But your heart hurts for the girl you once were. The girl who loved him so unconditionally. The girl who cried herself to sleep after each fight. The girl who just wanted him to love her back. 
You swallow the lump in your throat and tighten your hold on him. 
“It’s okay, Steve.”
He shakes his head and he pulls back a little, looking at you with his sad eyes. 
You nod before he can protest. You let go of him to cup his cheeks, trying to wipe the tears, but they keep falling and falling. 
“It’s okay,” you whisper, trying to convince him but his hazel eyes look back at you so brokenly. 
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, reaching his hands up to grab your wrists. “I’m so sorry for everything I did to you, dolly.”
You shake your head, opening your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, not letting you. 
“Please forgive me,” he cries. 
“Steve..” You frown, trying to catch the tears that keep escaping his eyes. You forgave him already. You forgave him because you never wanted to lose him. The past cannot be erased, not even if you were pained or happy, so the only thing is to look forward, and you don’t want to lose him in the future. He needs to understand that but no matter what you say now, he won’t listen. 
“Dolly, you don’t understand.” As he says these words to you, he looks at you with pleading eyes. 
You shake your head, a pained expression taking over your face. 
He opens his mouth to speak when a knock on your door interrupts him. You tear your eyes away from him, looking at your door, startled. 
Your mom’s voice sounds through the hallway as she knocks on your door again, “is everything okay?” 
“Y-Yeah, hold on!” You call out to her before you turn back to him. Moving your hands down to his arms. “Come on, let’s get you up.” 
He doesn’t protest, instead he takes your hands and stands up with you.
You lead him towards your bed and push him down, placing your hands on his shoulders, you look into his eyes, “I should go talk to my mom, she’s probably worried about the noises.”
He sniffles, nodding at you. 
Before you can move away, your door opens, the light in the hallways shining into your room. You’re met with your mom’s concerned eyes, she looks at you first before her eyes find Steve’s figure sitting on your bed. Her eyes widen and she gasps as she takes in the sight of him. 
“Steve, honey, you don’t look good, are you okay?” 
That only seems to make him sadder. No sounds escape him but the tears fall even harder than before and the urge to break down yourself feels stronger than ever. 
Your mom looks just as helpless as you do, you may not talk to her about your feelings but she can read you like an open book, and right now, she can see how much you’re suffering too. 
“We’re okay, mom. I-I got this, you should go back to sleep.” 
She hesitates. Looking at you with worried eyes. 
You nod at her, pleading with your tear filled eyes. 
She sighs, face falling a little. You feel bad for shutting her out but she had enough to deal with herself in the past few years, she shouldn’t deal with your problems now too. 
She nods at you, taking another look at Steve before her eyes meet yours again, “let me know if you need anything.” 
“I will, mom.”
She closes the door, leaving you alone with him. 
You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep and shaky breath, trying to fight the tears. 
He is still holding your hand and crying his eyes out. 
You take a look at him and suddenly feel like throwing up because of the overwhelming pressure in your chest. You can’t take this. 
He looks up at you, tears rolling down his red cheeks, he looks so heartbroken and you can’t stand to see him like this. It hurts so bad. It fills you with so much sadness but also with anger because none of this would have happened if he wouldn’t have changed his mind about you. 
“Let’s get you out of these clothes, you’re gonna get sick if you stay in these any longer.” 
You turn around, letting go of his hand, you walk to your closet and open the door, taking out the box that you’ve been meaning to give him back months ago. You take the lid off and rummage through it until you find what you’re looking for, one of his old shirts. The whole time, you’re biting back tears, not wanting to cry. It’s hard not to when you have to face him again. 
Why does he have to begin this over and over again? 
You’ve been here before. You’ve done this time and time. You forgave him already, you gave him a second chance, you were ready to move on. 
Why does he have to do this now? 
He is staring at you with a sullen look in his eyes, there is so much sadness, so much pain and heartbreak in the eyes you used to love so much. 
“Here,” you whisper, placing the shirt on your bed, beside him. “Take your shirt off, Steve.” 
He can barely see through his vision, his bottom lip is trembling, his hands are shaking, his whole body is shaking from both the coldness that is seeping through his shirt and the pain that he put himself in. 
He reaches for the hem of his shirt, clumsily. 
You sigh and step towards him, leaning down, you push his hands away gently, grabbing the wet material and pulling the shirt over his head. 
“Do you want to take a warm shower?” You ask, putting your hands on his cold arms. “You’re freezing, Steve.”
He shakes his head. 
“Okay,” you sigh and hand him the black shirt. “Here, put this one.” 
“Okay,” he whispers, watching you take his wet shirt and walking into the bathroom. His eyes follow you like the ones of a lost puppy. He no longer feels the tears running down his face, he’s been crying all night, his chest has been hurting badly from the moment he started reading old notes. The way you’re taking care of him after everything that he has done to you, makes him feel even worse.  
You walk back into the room a moment later. 
He is wiping his tears away after putting the shirt on. You can tell that he tries to hold himself together, not wanting to break into sobs again, but you know that he is struggling to with his emotions in overdrive and the alcohol in his system. 
“I’m gonna get you some water–”
“No, please don’t leave me.”
You had never heard him sound so heartbroken, so desperate and scared. 
You had never seen him look like this, so fragile and broken. 
“Please.”
He takes your hand in his. 
“I don’t… I don’t deserve you–”
You sigh, shaking your head as you sit down beside him. 
“Steve, stop! We’re friends, we’re over this okay? You need to stop doing this, we talked it all out. I forgave you–”
He shakes his head, catching you off guard when he moves towards you and cups your cheeks. 
“I wanted everything with you. I wanted you to be the one so bad. I know we were too young to think so far ahead but.. I wanted it all with you, I wanted to marry you and have kids with you but then I fucked it all up, I ruined everything. I-I don’t know what happened to me, I don’t know what’s wrong with me and why I break everything.” 
Your eyes widen in shock, tears you can no longer hold back fall from your eyes and roll down your cheeks. You open your mouth but no words come out. You are too stunned to speak. 
You never knew how he truly felt about you and about your future together. You knew that he wanted to go to college with you but that was the only part about your shared future that was mentioned – aside from the promise he made to never stop loving you. 
Despite the state of shock that you’re in, you cannot help but cry for the girl that wanted it all with him. 
“I don’t deserve you, fuck. I don’t deserve you– and you don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve someone like me, you don’t deserve how I treated you, you don’t deserve how I made you feel, you don’t deserve the pain I made you go through, because you’re so good, and so perfect, and I destroyed that.. I destroyed you.” His voice is so shaky, his tears won’t stop falling, neither do yours. But he wipes them away softly. 
Your bottom lip trembles as you look at him in pain. 
“Steve..”
He searches for something in your eyes – anger, hatred, rage. But he can’t find any of it. After everything that he put you through, you still got love for him and it makes him hate himself even more.
He knew what he did to you, what he put you through. Yet, only tonight it really sank in, how much he truly hurt you. How much he hurt that one person that he would give everything for – his heart, his soul, everything. 
“I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” His voice breaks and he closes his eyes as he lets his head hang low. Only a second passes, before you pull him into your arms again. 
“It’s okay, Steve,” you whisper. 
It’s not okay. How could it ever be okay? 
He left a deep scar, one that you will carry for the rest of your life and there is nothing he can do to fix it. 
He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you in, closer and closer until you’re flush against him, in search of your warmth, he buries his face in your neck. He breathes you in and holds you tightly, like it’s the last time. Enjoying the feeling of your hand running up and down his spine as your other hand cups the back of his head. His lips touch your skin, he is unaware of the marks on your neck. He is unaware of who’s hands, who’s lips have touched your body tonight. 
“I’m still your dolly, Steve,” you whisper into his shoulder. 
Yes, you are still his best friend. 
Still his dolly. 
But never his girl again. 
You stare into nothing as you hold him, breathing slowly. Your lips are pressed against his shoulder, you tighten your arms around him even when his cries quiet down and his breathing slows down, you still hold him, not ready to let go just yet. 
The room becomes silent, so silent that you suddenly miss the sound of his voice. 
“Steve?” You whisper. 
His head is laying on your shoulder, his breathing slow and steady. You know that he had fallen asleep but you still whisper his name again. When you get no response, you move back slowly, careful not to wake him. You push him down softly, adjusting the pillow beneath him. 
Your eyes soften as you take in the sight of him. You scoot closer to him, bringing your hands up to his face, you wipe the fallen tears and caress his cheek. Running your fingers through his hair and pushing away the fallen strands. 
You blink, feeling the hot tears burning in your eyes. 
The joy in your heart faded the moment he crashed into your arms. Right now, it’s just hurting. 
You know why he came here tonight. 
Not for comfort. Not for a second chance. Not for forgiveness. No. He came to end things, once and for all. 
With a heavy heart, you tear your eyes away from him and push yourself up. You lean down to take his Nike’s off, you lift his legs up on the bed and grab the covers, pulling them up to his chest. You notice the wristband, the one you gave him two nights ago, he is wearing it. 
You can’t remember the last time he was here in your room, let alone in your bed. It’s odd, almost strange to see him here. 
You look out your window, noticing that the rain has stopped falling. You hear the tires of a car screeching through the night. Jimmy Davidson must be back from college, you think. The jock is the only in town who drives like a maniac – well, besides Billy Hargrove and Eddie. 
You take one last look at him before you turn around and leave your room, wanting to grab some water and advil for him. You close the door carefully and make your way downstairs. 
You notice that the lights are on in the kitchen. The smell of hot chocolate lingers in the air. Your mom is still awake. You find her sitting at the table by the window, with a magazine in front of her. A blanket around her shoulder and glasses perched on her nose.
You feel bad for waking her up, knowing that she works the morning shift this week. But just her presence alone gives you the comfort that you so desperately need, right now. 
She looks up when she feels your presence. She takes her reading glasses off and places them on the table, pushing the blanket off as she stands up, she wastes no second to make her way towards you, the same concerned look as before resting in her features. 
“Is Steve okay?” 
You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat and blinking the tears away. 
“Yeah. He’s sleeping now.”
She knows that you’re not telling her everything, you never are. 
Sighing, she raises her hand towards your face, cupping your cheek as she gives you a smile, a sad one. 
“Are you okay?” 
Tears that you have just blinked away, well up in your eyes again. This time you hesitate. This time you can’t tell her that you feel okay or even good. You can’t hold your feelings back, not tonight. 
“You can talk to me. You never do and you always hold yourself back with me. I am your mother and I will listen to you, I’m here for you. So please, talk to me, sweetheart.” 
You look into her kind eyes and you suddenly feel like breaking down. You have been holding back for so long, hiding your true feelings, not letting them shine through out of fear that this would happen. 
But everything is crumbling now, all the last pieces that were holding you and Steve together had fallen apart the moment you had broken the barrier and kissed him. 
You don’t know where to start, there is so much to tell. 
So, you start with something you’ve been dying to get off your chest. 
“I love Eddie, mom.”
It feels like a relief to finally say it out loud, the words that you kept away for so long are now out in the open and.. it feels right. 
You watch for surprise to flash in her eyes but there is none. In fact, she doesn’t give you much of a reaction at all. A knowing look crosses her face, that’s all. 
“Is that why Steve was crying?”
You shake your head. 
“No. He doesn’t know,” you mumble, looking down. “I haven’t told him yet.”
“Then what happened to him?” 
You can hear the worry in her voice. You wonder if it will still be there when you tell her what he did to you. You never told her why he left. You never told her how much he hurt you. You never wanted her to think badly of him, not even after he broke your heart so carelessly. 
It feels like the world is weighing on your shoulders and the urge to throw it off feels so strong. You’ve been carrying it around for too long. 
“He came to apologize, to ask for forgiveness.” 
“Forgiveness?” She asks. “Did you two get into a fight?” 
“No, mom.” 
She tilts her head, giving you a questioning look. 
“Can we sit down?” You nudge your chin towards the table. “It’s a lot to talk about.”
She nods, a smile tugging at her lips. She wraps her arm around your shoulder and she leads you to the table. 
You sit down by the window and watch her move to the other side. She doesn’t take a seat though, instead she grabs the blanket and walks back to you, wrapping it around your shoulders and stepping away for a moment. 
Your eyes follow her in curiosity. 
She grabs your favorite mug from the cupboard and places it on the counter. 
You prop your chin on your palm and watch how she makes you a hot chocolate, the way you always loved it, with mini marshmallows on top. 
As you watch her move around in the kitchen, you realize how much you have missed this, how much you have missed your mom. This reminds you of older days, simpler days. Days where you had woken up from nightmares and sneaked into your parents room to wake your mom. She always knew how to comfort you. Instead of taking you back to bed and reading you a story, she always took you downstairs, made you hot chocolate and let you talk about whatever had troubled your young mind. 
And now you’re so much older and you don’t talk anymore. But you need to, you need to talk about it all so badly. So, you do. 
You tell her everything – from the sweetest note, to your overthinking, to all the fights she never knew about, to Nancy, to Tina’s Halloween party, to Eddie… You tell her absolutely everything. 
Tears fall as you talk about it all with a heavy heart. Relieving all the painful moments of your life and feeling the guilt of watching her eyes flash with sadness when she finally finds out the truth.
How you cried yourself to sleep. How you stopped eating and pretended to be okay in front of everyone. How heartbroken you were after he left. How unloved you felt for so long. How you have lost yourself after losing him before Eddie stepped into your life. How much Steve changed because of her. How he came back to you. How much he cared about you after all. How much he loved you after all. 
And as you finally talk, you can feel the weight getting lighter and lighter, falling off your shoulders but not completely. Not yet. But you let it all out, just like you tried with Robin but this feels different, your mom doesn’t try to lecture you, she doesn’t tell you what to do, what’s right and what’s wrong – she just listens because she knows that this is what you need. 
To talk, to cry, to feel. 
And when your tears stop falling and you calm down, she wraps her arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug. 
“You are such a brave girl. I know you had your friends with you, and Eddie especially. But you didn’t have to be alone in this. I was here. I have always been here, my sweet girl. You were never alone, you were never unloved.”
You close your eyes, ignoring the trembling in your lips and the shakiness in your hands as you hug her tightly, laying your chin on her shoulder. She rubs your back and squeezes you. 
In her arms you feel safe and comforted, you don’t need to hide, you don’t need to feel embarrassed or scared. You’re just safe and at home. 
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, mom,” you whisper when you realize how lost you’d truly be if you didn’t have her. “I’m so glad you’re here.” 
“I’ll always be here, sweetheart.” 
You sniffle, falling silent again. 
“You know.. I always knew by the way.”
“Huh?”
“That you loved Eddie.”
Shocked at her words, you pull away from the hug and stare at her with wide eyes. 
“I know how to see your emotions through your eyes, my love. I am not your mother for nothing,” she laughs while wiping away your fallen tears, tucking your hair behind your ear. 
You roll your eyes with a soft smile on your face. 
“And I also knew about Eddie’s feelings. That boy would blush every time he came to pick you up and you would come down with a new dress or skirt. I don’t know how you didn’t see his ears getting all red.” 
Your eyes grow bigger, softening after her words as you’re beaming at her.
“You think he loves me, mom?”
She giggles, staring at you as though you’ve gone crazy. 
“Someone would have to be blind and deaf to not notice that.” 
You blush at her words, though you can’t hide the excitement that crosses your face when you think about him, when you think about seeing him later. You look at each other, as though she can read your mind, you both start giggling. 
She looks at you fondly, squeezing your hand. 
“You know that I’m proud of you, right?” She smiles. “You’re so strong. You have always been a fighter.”
“No. Not always,” you shake your head. “I didn’t always fight for what I wanted.” 
“But now you do, right?” 
You nod.
“Yeah, now I do.”
Your mom looks towards the stairs. You know what’s on her mind. You saw the disappointment, the anger and the sadness in her eyes when you told her the truth about Steve. 
You know that she isn’t angry at him – she would have been had you told her the truth from the start. But a year has passed and things have changed. Steve has changed. You have changed. And despite what you have gone through, you still love him.
And that is another reason for your tears. Steve has always been a part of your life and she knows that you are afraid to lose him again. You might lose your best friend. 
“And do you still love Steve?” 
“I do..” You whisper. “That’s why it’s all so.. complicated.” 
“Is it?” She asks, giving you a small smile. “Or do you make it complicated?”
You tilt your head, raising your brows at her question. 
“You can love them both and they will both be special to you, no matter what. But you can be in love with only one person.” 
You let her words sink in, but your heart only hurts more. 
You have been here so many times already. You have told yourself that you let him go, you have convinced yourself that you did but did you ever let him go? Did you ever allow yourself to move past it? No. Because letting go of him always filled you with so much fear. 
“I don’t want to lose him.” 
The pain in your eyes is very telling. The sadness gives away who you are talking about. 
“But the love you once had for him is somewhere else now, right?” 
You’re biting back tears. And after a few minutes of silence, you nod. 
“I love Eddie, mom. I really really love Eddie.” 
She smiles at your words, taking your hand, she looks into your eyes. 
“You know what you have to do then.. right?” 
You nod, getting sadder each passing second. 
“Yes,” you whisper. “I just– I don’t want to hurt him anymore.”
“You will hurt him more if you don’t talk to him. You need to give him closure. It’s the right thing to do, and it’s the only way the two of you can be happy.”
“I know,” you whisper, shakily. 
She gives you an encouraging smile, “you got this, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay.” 
“I hope so..”
She holds your hand a little tighter, giving it a squeeze. 
“You should get some sleep. You can sleep in my bed if you don’t wanna go back there. I gotta start getting ready for work now.”
“Already?” You frown as you turn around to look at the clock. It’s 4:30 am already. 
“Oh shit, I’m sorry for keeping you up. You really needed your sleep.”
She shakes her head at you, “no, it’s okay. I’m glad you finally talked to me.”
You smile at her, tilting your head to the side, “me too.”
“Take it easy, okay?” 
You nod. 
She gives your hand a pat before she gets up, ruffling your hair playfully as she moves past you, making you chuckle. 
“Hey mom?” 
She turns around before stepping out into the hallway, looking back at you. 
“Thank you.”
Her gaze softens, brows knitting together.
“Of course, sweetie,” the soft sound of your mom’s voice sounds through the kitchen. “I’m gonna go check on him.”
“Okay,” you nod. 
She gives you another smile before she turns around, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 
With a sigh, you look down and reach for the now half empty mug, you pull your knees up to your chest, taking a sip of the hot chocolate as you look out the window. 
It’s still dark out, the world is still sleeping, and you enjoy the last moments of this.
You’re not ready for the morning to come. 
You’re still not ready. 
-
Steve’s head is pounding, the pain is excruciating. He can’t open his eyes, not yet. The sun that is shining into the room is too bright. A groan falls from his lips and he clutches the pillow beneath his head, squeezing his eyes shut after trying to open them. 
He hears the birds chirping outside, he must have left his window open last night. He smells the fresh air, it instantly calms the sickening feeling in his chest a little. He sinks into the pillows and breathes in. 
The sweet and floral scent is so pleasant, it smells like you. He takes another deep breath, he smells your perfume, your shampoo, your vanilla body wash. His heart flutters and he can’t help but melt into the warmth of the bed and the scents that linger. He feels safe and comforted. 
It takes him a moment to realize that his pillows shouldn’t smell like you or your perfume. His bed isn’t usually this comfortable either. 
Steve opens his eyes slowly, groaning in pain when the light shines directly into his face. Hiding behind his hands, he sits up. He rubs his eyes and runs his hand through his messy hair. Turning his back to the window, he squints his eyes as he opens them again, trying to get used to the light. 
His throat feels so dry that it hurts and his head is killing him. He can still taste the whiskey on his tongue, it makes him nauseous. 
Once his eyes are fully adjusted to the light, he takes a look around the room and his heart skips in his chest, his red rimmed eyes widen when he realizes where he is. 
His stomach drops when he finds Advil on your nightstand next to a glass of water. 
“Oh fuck,” he groans as he buries his face back in his hands. Dread fills him when he starts to remember the previous night. 
The note. The Whiskey that he stole from his dad’s office. The tears that streamed down his face when he carelessly drove to your house drunk. You. He remembers the way you held him, the way you cried too. 
“Fuck,” he whispers, tugging at his hair. 
He chugs down the glass of water and after a moment of hesitation, he gets up from your bed and looks down at himself, noticing the new– well, old shirt. He puts on his Nike’s and walks into your bathroom to splash some cold water on his face but when he turns on the light and he takes a look into the mirror, he can’t help but feel sick. His eyes are red and puffy from all the crying, his skin looks pale and his hair has never looked worse than it does right now. 
He shakes his head at himself, hating his reflection more than anything, right now. 
With a sigh, he looks down, gripping the counter tightly, knowing that he has to face you now. 
He knows that there’s a small chance that you aren’t home, that you have left. But he knows that you wouldn’t do it while he is here, not even if you’re upset with him. 
After washing his face with cold water and using your mouth wash to get rid of that awful taste of whiskey, he walks back into your room, trying not to let the sadness take hold of him again but it’s hard not to fall into the pit of darkness again when he stands inside the room of the girl he loves, the girl he has made so many memories with, in here and anywhere else in this stupid small town. 
From good memories to bad ones. 
From innocent ones like picking flowers for you at the age of 12 to buying you a bouquet of flowers for your 16th birthday. 
From comforting hugs at school to cuddling in your bed at nights. 
From first kisses on your bedroom floor to more passionate kisses in his car after every stop at the streetlight. 
From making love in your bed to fighting in your room with tears streaming down your face. 
He sees the box on the ground, the one that you took out of your closet, last night. You kept his things, just like he kept yours. 
Did you struggle to get rid of them like he did? 
Did you keep them in hopes that you would find your way back together someday?
His hands are starting to get clammy, his heart starts pounding again. He takes another look around your room before he opens the door and steps out into the hallway. 
The faint sound of the music coming from the radio tells him that you are in the kitchen. He makes his way downstairs, ignoring the shakiness in his legs or his hands. The smell of coffee lingers in the air. 
He presses his lips together as he takes a deep breath before he steps into the kitchen. 
You’re leaning against the counter, your chin is propped on your hand, a book lying in front of you, you haven’t noticed him yet and Steve takes that as a chance to look at you. 
Your hand is wrapped around a mug that Eddie must have given you, you told him that he loves Garfield. He laughed about it when you did. 
It’s only 8 am. He knows you’re not working today, yet you’re already so put together. Make up on your already beautiful skin, hair done in waves, you’re wearing an outfit you certainly didn’t wear yesterday. God, you look so beautiful that it hurts. 
His heart longs for you, his hands itch to touch you – something that he could’ve done. 
In a different world, he would pull you into his arms and shower you with kisses, he would hold you, not wanting to let you go. He would make breakfast for you and then you would spend the day together. 
But you’re in this world. 
In a world where he can’t kiss you or hold you or spend the day with you. 
“Hey..”
You raise your head and your glassy eyes meet his. 
Another wave of guilt rushes through him. You cried. You cried because of him again. 
“Hi,” you whisper as you close your book and straighten your back, you look him up and down. 
Steve hates how concerned you look, how worried you are over him. 
You take a step forward, giving him a small smile. 
“Are you feeling okay?” 
He shrugs, trying to smile back at you. 
“I’ll make you a coffee, you should sit,” you nudge your head into the direction of the kitchen table. 
“Okay.”
He walks to the table and takes the seat that was once his. It’s been a long time since he sat here and watched you. 
You make the coffee first, pouring some into a Hawkins High mug. You add two sugars, still knowing how he likes his coffee. 
“When’s the last time you ate?” 
You place the mug in front of him, eying him with softness in your eyes, something that makes all of this even harder. 
He blinks, shrugging at your words. 
“Okay,” you sigh and pull back your hair, without thinking. “Bagels or Toast? I’ll make you some eggs if you want–”
Your voice becomes faint, like he’s under water, sinking further and further into the deep end. The marks on your neck are now visible to him, the hickeys that he left. Steve is not shocked or even surprised. He already knew when he came to you, last night. It was obvious, even through his drunken haze, he could see it in your eyes, the happiness that shined in them before you took in the sight of him. 
It still hurts. 
And it hurts even more to think about you with him, especially in that way. 
“Toast is just fine,” he mumbles. 
“Okay, Steve,” you whisper, this was always his go-to breakfast after a night out. Black coffee and toast. It’s plain but it’s the only thing he gets down. 
He keeps watching you. Eyes following your every moment. 
There is so much sadness inside of him but there is also more, there is acceptance. He knows why he came here last night. 
Bits and pieces start to return to him. He remembers what he confessed to you, how you held him, how you took care of him, how you comforted him. 
He truly never deserved you.
You place a plate in front of him, “you sure you want nothing else?” You point to the buttered toast. You added a few berries on the side. 
He gives you a smile, “you know I’ll probably get sick if I eat anything else,” he says, chuckling for the first time today. 
“Yeah,” you breathe. “You always had a weak stomach.” 
“Only when I drink whiskey.” 
You nod, sitting down opposite of him. You take a sip of your coffee and lean back. You look down and reach for the magazine that your mom was reading earlier, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring. 
Steve looks up at you and he just knows it’s the last time that he will have your coffee and your toast. 
It’s the last time he will get to sit here with you. 
So, for a moment, he pretends that everything is alright, that this is normal, that this is something you both do every day and for the rest of your lives, that he didn’t mess up, that everything is fine. 
He takes a few sips of the coffee and eats the toast, and when he’s done, he takes a deep breath and pushes the plate aside, not looking up from the coffee just yet. 
“I’m sorry.”
You close the magazine, sighing as you finally look up. 
“You said that already… many times, Steve.”
He doesn’t say anything to that. He only looks up at you, his eyes scan your face, his lips twitch. 
“You look happy, dolly.”
What?
You shake your head a little, furrowing your brows as you stare at him in confusion. 
“You have color in your skin again, you no longer.. are skin and bones,” he says, quietly. Looking down as his eyes fill with guilt, knowing that you stopped eating because of how heartbroken you were. “Your hair is longer, your nails are painted black– a color I didn’t like you putting on because I was a fucking asshole..”
“Steve–”
He shakes his head at you, not wanting you to interrupt him. 
“You wear stuff you always told me you wanted to buy, you started wearing makeup, the heavy kind you once tried and loved but thought it was too much,” he says with a smile on his face, a knowing one. 
You see the way his eyes fall to your neck and your heart jumps when you realize what he is looking at. Surprisingly, there is no shock in his eyes, jealousy or even anger, just sadness. He knows everything and it’s not the marks on your skin he needed to look at. 
“You are living again.. and god, I want to hate him for it but.. how can I when he saved you from the pain I put you through?” 
Your eyes burn with tears. 
“I’m done standing in your way–”
“Steve,” you whisper, shaking your head. “Y-You’re not standing in the way.”
“Yes, I am.” His voice is thick with tears and by the way he is blinking, you can tell that he is trying not to cry. 
He looks down at the necklace you are wearing, the locket he had put around your neck, months ago. 
He knows that there is no picture of him inside and as much as it hurts, it’s okay. 
He didn’t come here to fight for you. He didn’t come here for a second chance or to get you back. He came here to let you go. So you could find happiness, the way you always deserved it. 
“And I don’t want to anymore. I want you to be happy.”
Your bottom lip starts trembling again. 
“And I know that you will be with him,” he says as he tears his away from the marks on your neck and he looks into your glassy eyes. “He would never do what I did. He would never put you through all of this.” 
You sniffle, looking into your best friend’s eyes. There is so much pain and sadness lingering in them and you hate it, you hate it so much. 
“I never let you go, dolly,” he finally admits with a heavy sigh. “Not at Tina’s Halloween party, not when I came to see you the next day, not after we went to Jimmy’s party together. I never let you go.” 
Your brows knit together, eyes that stare back at him with pain, fill with more tears. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing and you look into the brown eyes you always loved so much. 
You never let him go either, that’s why it hurts so much. 
Knowing that this is the last time crushes your heart in a new way. You know that this could not only be the end of the relationship you always held onto. This could be the end of everything. 
This was always your worst fear. Losing him. 
You have lost him before but you always knew that he would come back. 
And he always knew it too. 
But this, this is different. 
And this hurts even more than it did the first time. 
You still love him, there is no doubt about that. Steve can see it in your eyes, it’s in the way you look at him, it’s in the way your lips tremble and your hands shake as fear crosses your face. You’re scared to lose him. 
How could he ever think anything else? How could he ever doubt your love for him when it’s so clearly written on your face? Even now. 
Steve can’t help but wonder; would it have worked out between you if there wasn’t someone else? 
If Nancy never stepped into his life. 
If Eddie never stepped into your life. 
Would you have stayed together? 
Would you have broken up either way? 
Would you have found your way back together in the future? 
Would he have been able to make it up to you? 
Would you get your happy ending then?
“I dropped some heavy stuff on you last night,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing red when he remembers all the things he had said to you. 
“Oh, you mean marriage and kids?” You ask as a smile tugs on your lips when you see him blushing. 
He scratches the back of his neck, scrunching his face up, “yeah..”
You laugh a little, leaning your elbow on the table, you cup your cheek, “well, I never thought that far ahead when we were still together. I mean, I never knew what I wanted for my future but I knew that I wanted you in it,” you say, watching the way he nods at you. “And maybe a cat or a dog.” 
He chuckles. 
“Or maybe a few cats and a dog.” 
A fond smile reaches his face as he stares at you, shaking his head at the thought of all the pets you’d bring home while he’d– his smile begins to fade, it will never happen. 
“Well, I’m sure that Eddie will love that.”
Your heart flutters at the thought of a future with him. Yeah, Eddie will love that. 
“You’ll be happy with him. He will make you happy,” he says confidently because he knows that he will. “And if not, well, then I’ll take you back to that treehouse and I’ll marry you again.”
A laugh falls from your lips as a tear finally rolls down your cheek. 
“The treehouse we got married in when we were ten?” 
“Yeah,” he whispers. “That one. You know I still got that paper ring,” he says with a serious face.
“I do too, I put it in a box,” you giggle. 
His eyes light up and he smiles at you, but he watches the tear roll down your cheek and then another. He stands up and he walks over to you, his heart skips a beat when you look up at him with your beautiful eyes. He cups your cheeks, wiping away the tears. 
“I don’t want you to cry over me anymore,” he whispers, holding your face for the last time. 
“Steve,” you whisper, shakily. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”
You knew that this was coming. You knew that this had to happen. If he didn’t come to you last night, then you’d be the one coming to him to talk and put an end to this, once and for all. 
“I love you with all my heart and I ache for you, all the goddamn time but I don’t deserve you. You should have never forgiven me. You should have never treated me like a friend. You should have never given me the chance to be near you again… not after what I did.”
You grab his wrists, shaking your head at his words. Scared that he will leave you for good. Scared that he will leave your friendship behind and step out of your life forever. 
Steve hates to see the way your lips tremble, the way your eyes are nothing but tears, sadness and heartbreak, yet again. 
He can’t stand to see it any longer. 
“I let you go,” he whispers as he wipes your tears again. “Like you asked me to months ago.”
His heart is screaming at him not to, everything inside of him longs for him to stay, to fight for you, to drop to his knees and ask to try again. 
But this is the right thing to do. 
There is someone who can give you more than he can. 
Someone who didn’t hurt you. Someone who wouldn’t hurt you. Someone who would rather get hurt by you than do something to break your heart. 
“I choose you, sweetheart. This time, I choose you and your happiness.” 
A sad smile lingers on his face, he brushes your hair back and he looks down at the locket, one last time. 
He knows why you aren’t speaking, you’d break down if you would. 
He leans down, tilting your head up a little, he presses his lips against your forehead, kissing you one last time. 
His throat feels tight and his chest is hurting, he knows that he is on the verge of another breakdown, he is so very close to it. 
This is the hardest thing he will ever have to do. 
“Goodbye, Dolly.”
Your sniffles break his heart. You only hold his wrists tighter in response, holding onto them, your touch lingers on the wristband, one that he will never stop wearing. You let go after a few seconds. 
He feels your eyes on him, your big sad eyes. He can’t bear to take another look at you, knowing that he won’t be able to leave if he does, so he steps away from you, despite his heart telling him not to. 
He turns around and he walks away from you for the last time. He grabs his keys that you left on the counter, last night. 
With a heavy heart, he walks out of your house, biting back tears as he makes his way to his car. 
It’s over now. 
Something he held onto since he left you, is over. 
And now he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 
He unlocks his car when the front door bursts open, startling him. He turns around with tears in his eyes that threaten to spill. Before he can even react, you suddenly crash into his arms, and wrap your arms around him, you hold onto him like you’re afraid that he might disappear if you let go. You hug him so tightly.
His eyes soften and his chest fills with warmth. 
He doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, wrapping his arms around your smaller frame, he holds you tight and buries his face in your neck. 
No matter what happened in the past. No matter what he did to you. No matter how much pain you have gone through, you still don’t want to live in a world where he isn’t in your life. 
After all, he will always be the boy who picked flowers for you, who surprised you with your favorite snacks, who comforted you whenever your parents fought, who slept in your bed when you were afraid of storms, who taught you how to slow dance, who wrote you notes when he was younger, who promised you to be your prince when your first crush rejected you. 
You hold onto him, pressing your cheek against his chest. 
You stay like that for a moment, for a long moment – one that could never be long enough. 
He breathes you in and closes his eyes, ignoring the fluttering in his chest. 
He knows that this should make him feel better, to know that you love him enough to forgive him, to want him to stay but if anything, it makes him feel worse because he is still losing you.
He knows he has to walk away, for now. 
“I love you, Stevie.” 
He smiles sadly. 
He knows it’s not the same as it was. It’s not the I love you’s from all your notes. He knows it’s not the same love he feels for you, not anymore.
But the love you always had for him. The love you had since you were kids. 
And for him that’s more than he could ever ask for. 
“I love you too, Dolly.”
You sniffle, he can feel you shaking against him. You’re trying not to cry. 
“Please don’t become a stranger again, Steve.”
His breath hitches in his throat, he presses his lips together, willing the tears to stop from falling. 
“Me?” He asks, pulling back to look down at you. He musters up a smile. “I might need some time but I will latch onto you as soon as I get over my whiny ass.” He jokes, despite the pain in his heart. 
You roll your eyes but laugh at his words. 
You take a deep breath and sigh. 
This is it. 
This is what was supposed to happen. 
It hurts but you also feel relieved to finally put an end to something that kept holding you back for so long. 
You know you won’t truly lose him. 
He will always be your Steve. 
And you will always be his Dolly.
But it won’t ever be the same. 
You will be his friend and he will be yours and that’s all you’ll ever be. 
You won’t be sad forever and neither will he. 
He will find love after you. 
He will find it like you did. 
It’s what he deserves. 
It’s what you both deserve. 
“We kinda got friendship bracelets now,” he smiles through his tears, pointing to the wristband as he holds his hand up. You reach out to touch it, tracing the words. 
‘love you to the moon and to saturn’
“Well, I got one, you have a necklace.” 
You smile, placing your hand on the locket, “yeah.” 
You turn it around, looking at the half moon that he got customized just for you. 
You tear your eyes away from him and look around, furrowing your brows when you realize something. 
“You know what, we should stop doing this.”
“What do you mean?” He asks, tilting his head. 
“Saying goodbye in my driveway.” 
He chuckles, though it’s a sad one. 
“This is the last one,” he whispers. “Of this kind, at least. Our future goodbyes won’t be so…”
“Sad?”
“Yeah.” He takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. 
“Promise?” 
“I promise.”
He takes a step forward, he leans down and kisses your cheek, not paying attention to the feeling in his heart or the way his lips tingle when they touch your skin for the last time. He gives your hand a squeeze before he pulls away again. 
“I’ll see you around.” 
He can tell that you’re trying not to cry,  that you are forcing a smile onto your face. 
“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Steve.”
You can tell that he wants to say more. He looks at you. His eyes trace every inch of your face, like he’s trying to memorize you. And then, he nods to himself, blinking and giving you one last smile before he turns away from you. 
You watch him leave. 
For the last time, you watch him walk away from you. 
You stand there and wait until he is gone, until you no longer see his car in the distance. 
And just like that, he is gone, again. 
And your tears are falling again. 
-
A/N: I know that no one cares about my feelings cause I did this. But I want you to know that I freaking suffered writing this chapter. It felt heartbreaking and sad and wrong. I really wanted Steve to be the one. And my choice has nothing to do with the fact that I'm an Eddie girl, I love Steve, as well. (I know some of you don't believe this but I've loved him since 2016 so shut up, please and thanks). I didn't know how to make him come back from all what he did -- the emotional cheating, the pain he put her through, the heartbreak, the betrayal. It was too much and this ending genuinely has nothing to do with Eddie being in this story.
But also, please remember. This is not the ending of the story. So before you send any hate to me, remember that there will be another chapter and an epilogue. Anything can happen in an epilogue, just saying.
Also, I'll be working on a new Steve series. Strictly Steve x reader, I promise
@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @somethingvicked @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @munson-mjstan
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eiightysixbaby · 9 months
Text
afterglow
part 2 to cruel summer
tell me that i’m all you want, even when i break your heart
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
word count: 10.2k
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: you navigate the aftermath of your confession to eddie, but forgetting him is harder than you thought. it’s up to him to make things right.
cw: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. angst, use of y/n, eddie and reader being lovesick for each other, tooth rotting fluff, use of pet names, unprotected p in v, oral f receiving
author’s note: i am so, SO beyond excited to share this finally! thank y’all so much for the love on cruel summer, i hope you all enjoy part 2 just as much. this is inspired by afterglow by miss taylor swift, so go listen to that if you haven’t! okay smooches love u all hope u enjoy
part one
It had only been a few days since you confessed your love to Eddie and he left you without a word, but it felt like it had been years. Every minute crawling by, the hole in your heart seeming to grow rather than get any smaller. Your mind was ping-ponging back and forth between being furious with Eddie, and missing him and yearning for his touch. In all honesty, you mostly felt horrible for the way you yelled at him. Sure, he wasn’t being considerate of your feelings and he was being a bit of an asshole, but how was he supposed to know you loved him? You don’t even know if you knew you did until you were screaming it in his face. It’s not right what Eddie did, making you feel special and then turning around and flirting with other girls in front of you, but it’s not right for you to get mad at him for not being exclusive with you when the two of you were only supposed to be fuck buddies, and you weren’t supposed to have feelings for him. The guilt was eating away at you, and now that you’d gone and blindsided him with the confession of your feelings, you knew you couldn’t fix things. He clearly didn’t feel the same way, and he clearly didn’t want to rectify the situation at hand. But there were also moments where the guilt would subside and you were filled with pure rage, wanting to hurt him the way he’d hurt you. To say you were conflicted was an understatement.
In actuality, Eddie was doing no better than you were. He’d barely slept since the night he left your place, the bags under his eyes growing increasingly dark and his mood constantly agitated. You loved him. How could that be? Had he really been that fucking blind? Admittedly, Eddie’s never been great with the whole “feelings” thing. Screwing around with a different girl every week was fun for him because no deeper feelings were involved. It allowed him to get those brief dopamine rushes without the room to get attached to someone, just for them to end up leaving him when they really got to know him. But it was always different with you, from the moment the first line was blurred and you crossed into uncharted territory with each other, it was different. This had unnerved Eddie initially, the way everything felt softer with you, more intimate. He couldn’t let himself fall for you, and so he kept you at arm’s length - or tried to, anyways. He’d continue to flirt with other girls, to sleep with other girls in hopes that it would keep his mind off of you. He needed to keep himself in the routine of bouncing around so that his brain wasn’t hyper fixated on you. Your mutual agreement to have a little friends-with-benefits situation surely meant that you didn’t feel anything more for him, right? He couldn’t be the one that fell head over heels for you, just for you to leave him in the dust.
He should have fucking known you’d never do that to him. And now here he was, the asshole that hurt you probably beyond repair. All because he couldn’t work out his feelings, couldn’t face you in the event that you rejected him. He scoffs at himself, because look at how he handled things, leaving your apartment without so much as a word after you confessed your fucking love to him. Eddie groans, flopping face first into his pillows, letting out a long exasperated sigh. The moment you said you loved him he’d wanted to say it back without an ounce of hesitation, and honestly, that terrified him to his core. He’s never loved someone like that, it’s different than the love he holds for his friends or Wayne, or that old trailer park cat he’d befriended as a child . The love he felt for you was all-consuming in a new way, and it made him sick to his stomach with unease. He’s startled by a knock rattling the trailer, and he heaves himself off his bed with a huff. A frown is etched onto his face, his hair a wild mess as he opens the rickety door to the trailer. There on his front step is Nancy and Jonathan. Oh fuck.
“-And so, we just kind of want to know a little bit about what happened, on your end? She didn’t really give us a whole lot to go off of other than you flirting with the bartender…” Nancy winces as she says the last part, noticing the way Eddie visibly twitches at her words.
“I wasn’t flirting with the bartender,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his cool. “I didn’t want to start anything so I just… let her flirt with me. But I wasn’t interested! I just wanted one more drink,” he mumbles, his head throbbing with stress and lack of sleep.
Nancy and Jonathan had come over to your place the day after the incident with Eddie, gently trying to coax some information out of you. You’d revealed that the two of you had had a few drinks and some bar food, danced a little bit, and then hooked up in the bathroom - sparing them the gory details of course. Then you told them you caught him flirting with a couple women at the bar after you’d left him to talk to Chrissy briefly. You intentionally left out the part where you, you know, professed your undying love for him in the middle of the night standing in the doorway to your apartment. You didn’t need anyone knowing that you said those three big words when he didn’t even reciprocate them, the thought of telling your friends far too embarrassing.
Nancy, being Nancy, felt like there was something you weren’t telling her, or at least wanted to hear the story from Eddie’s perspective, hoping to get some more info so that she could better understand how to be there for you. She gave it a few days, knowing Eddie wouldn’t like to be cornered right after the incident, and that’s how her and Jonathan found themselves on the couch in his small living room currently.
Eddie was also in no way planning on telling them about how you’d told him you loved him, and he’d walked away like a big fucking idiot. Although his friends meant well, and wanted to help, he didn’t need any extra inquiring minds knowing about this. He needed to focus on figuring out how to fix things with you before anyone else found out that the big ‘L’ word was involved.
“Eddie, please just be honest with us-”
“I am being fucking honest!” Eddie snaps, catching his friends off guard. “I swear, on my fucking life, I was not flirting with those women at the bar. I just didn’t have the energy to start an argument or something,” the expression on Eddie’s face is growing desperate as he talks. “I should’ve just walked away, I know, but I didn’t. But I swear I was not flirting with them. For once, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”
Jonathan gives Nancy a look, and she nods in understanding.
“We believe you, Eddie. Thank you for explaining,” she says softly, trying to meet his eyes.
Eddie doesn’t look at her, can’t bring himself to when he’s hiding the worst part of this whole thing from her.
“Is there… anything else that you need to tell us?” Jonathan asks, careful so as not to sound accusatory.
“No. After she thought she caught me flirting, that must’ve been when she called you guys. There’s nothing else to say that she didn’t already tell you.” Eddie sighs, his voice defeated.
They could tell their presence was no longer wanted in Eddie’s home, and so they made their exit.
“Thanks for talking to us, Eddie. We’re here if you need anything,” Nancy says as she closes the door behind her.
Nancy originally intended on ripping Eddie a new one when he admitted to flirting with the bartender a few days ago, but now she knows that’s clearly not the truth. It was all a misunderstanding, at least this time around. But the hurt behind Eddie’s eyes, the pain in his voice has her thoughts jumbled. Something deeper has to be going on, she just doesn’t know what.
“So, do you think we should tell Y/N that him flirting with the ladies at the bar was a misunderstanding?” Jonathan asks, breaking the silence in the car.
“I feel like she deserves to know. Not that it’ll change anything necessarily, it doesn’t have to, but she deserves to be free of that pain at least,” Nancy nods as if assuring herself, before taking the car in the direction of your place.
The rapping at your door breaks you out of your daze as you sit on your sofa watching Friends reruns. You debate even answering it, before deciding that you can’t wallow all alone 24/7. You open your door to reveal Nancy and Jonathan, inviting them in but grimacing at the disastrous state of your living room. They don’t even pay any mind to it, Jonathan sitting on the arm of the couch as Nancy stands in front of you.
“So, we just talked to Eddie,” she says, her eyes searching yours.
You swallow, hard. Did he tell them what you said? Do they know you love him?
“Oh? W-what did he say?” you ask, your voice coming out more shaky than you would’ve liked.
“He told us that he was never flirting with the bartender and the other girl. Insisted on it, actually. He said he just wanted one more drink while he waited for you, and didn’t feel like starting anything by turning them down,” she says gently. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad for him or anything, I just figured you deserve to have that weight off of your shoulders.”
You stay silent for a moment, taking in what she’s saying. Clearly Eddie was convincing when he told her all of this, because Nancy wouldn’t believe just anything. He wasn’t flirting with them, it was all a misunderstanding. You flipped out on him for nothing.
“Thank you for telling me,” you say finally. “Did he say anything else?”
“No, his story was no different than yours otherwise.”
You nod, standing in silence because you can’t think of a damn thing to say.
“We’re gonna get going, but I just wanted to give you that update,” Nancy says, sensing the awkwardness.
You thank them again and hug them both before shutting the door behind them. You sink back into the soft cushions of your couch, staring blankly at the TV screen. The whole reason you’d even admitted to Eddie that you loved him was because you blew up on him, you couldn’t take it anymore, the image of the bartender all over him bringing you to your breaking point. It was all a misunderstanding, and you spilled your guts to him because of it. Things could still be the way they were if you’d never opened your damn mouth. Clearly, Eddie doesn’t love you back. He hasn’t reached out to you in three days. There’s no way you can go back on your words now, and you’re confident you ruined everything with the only guy you want. It should make you sick, still, the fact that he left you and couldn’t even give you a response. You should be furious with him, you should be cursing his name at the sky, but all you can do is feel guilty for putting him in jail for something he never did. You lay down, letting out a scream into one of your fluffy throw pillows. If you had any tears left to cry, they’d surely be flowing now, but instead you just lie there, zoning out completely. The only thing left to do was try and get over Eddie Munson.
Almost two whole weeks since he last saw you and Eddie had been wallowing pathetically the whole time, making little to no improvements since Nancy and Jonathan’s visit to his home. He shouldn’t have gotten so defensive with you when you accused him of flirting with the ladies at the bar - how could he blame you for thinking that? It’s not like he was particularly loyal to you or considerate of your feelings any other time. Basically, he was throwing himself a gigantic pity party, and Steve had decided he’d had enough of his friend’s antics.
He found out a little about what had happened through Robin, who found out through Nancy. Word travels fast in the friend group, needless to say. Steve came to Eddie’s trailer, for the third time that week, still finding him withering away in bed and looking like a kicked puppy. Steve, from what he understood of the situation, couldn’t figure out why Eddie was so distraught. You’d finally gotten tired of his sleeping around, and you’d kicked him to the curb. If anything, you deserved to be upset because you clearly had some deeper feelings for Eddie. Eddie on the other hand? He was the asshole, always, what right did he have to be upset now?
“Ed, seriously man, you’ve gotta cut this out. What good is it gonna do for you if you let yourself shrivel up and die in your bed?” Steve had tried to be gentle the first time he came to see Eddie, but by now he was frustrated.
Eddie just groans, grabbing his pillow and covering his face with it. Steve rolls his eyes, marching over to the bed and snatching the pillow from him, like a parent snatching an item from a child.
“You’ve gotta talk to me, dude. What is going on here? You acted like an ass to Y/N half the time, no offense, and now you’re upset? I just don’t buy it, man.”
Eddie scoffs and gets up, pushing past Steve and heading into the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee. Steve follows directly behind him, hands on his hips as he corners Eddie in the kitchen. The older man glances over at his friend, acting completely disinterested as he fills his Garfield mug with the black liquid.
“You’re being impossible. I want to help you, and you won’t even talk to me. If you want to be depressed as shit forever, then fine! Be my guest,” Steve says, like it’s final, like he’s done trying.
Eddie knows him better than that. He pushes past Steve yet again, plopping himself down on the couch and taking an obnoxiously loud sip of his coffee. Steve’s fuming, watching in disbelief as Eddie goes along like he isn’t even there.
“You know, I can see why Y/N got sick of you.”
This gets a rise out of Eddie. He brings the mug away from his lips slowly, his breath catching in his throat.
“Yeah, I mean seriously, if you’re this stubborn all the time then it’s no wonder she got tired of you…” Steve goes on, knowing exactly what he’s doing.
Eddie grips his mug tightly, certain it’d shatter if he held it any harder. He grits his teeth, breathing hard out his nose.
“You just couldn’t keep it in your pants, had to flirt with that damn bartender…”
“I DIDNT. FLIRT. with the FUCKING. BARTENDER.” Eddie is seething now, about ready to jump across the room and grab Steve by the collar of his shirt. He’s at his breaking point now, letting everything spill out of him. “You wanna know what’s going on? You really have to know? She fucking loves me, man. She told me she loves me, okay? And - and - and… that fucking terrified me, okay? So I left her apartment. I didn’t say a word and I fucking left,” Eddie’s trembling now, the brunt of his anger giving way to sheer anguish.
Steve goes quiet, his eyes widening. He opens and closes his mouth, scrambling to find words.
“Eddie, you just left her?” Steve asks, really not trying to rub salt in the wound, but what the fuck.
“I really don’t need you to lecture me on how wrong that was-”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I just-” Steve pauses, looking at his disheveled friend where he sits on the couch. “Do you love her?”
Eddie is silent for a minute, his hands clasped together and brought up to his mouth, elbows resting on his knees.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do,” his voice is noticeably shaky, and for the first time since Steve got here, Eddie’s sad brown eyes meet his.
Steve comes to sit down next to Eddie, the couch cushions dipping with his weight.
“I think you need to tell her, man.”
“How? How do I even start? She thinks I ditched her at The Hideaway to flirt with other women, she probably thinks I fucking hate her considering I left without a word after she-”
Steve puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, calming him down from the way his body has started to shake. Eddie looks at him, eyes glassy and confused.
“This is Y/N we’re talking about. I don’t think she could ever hate you. You need to tell her how you feel, Eddie.”
Eddie knows he’s right. Deep down, he knows. But facing you and admitting his feelings is the scariest part. He doesn’t like to be vulnerable, doesn’t like the way it feels to put himself so fully out there, and he honestly envies you for being able to spit the words at him so easily. Eddie has to tell you, he just needs to figure out how.
You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, holding up different outfits as you debated which you liked the best. Robin and Nancy scrunched their noses at one particular dress you held up.
“Too many ruffles,” Nancy blurts.
“You’d look kind of like a babydoll…” Robin muses, tilting her head as she looks at the short blue garment.
You groan, throwing all the hangers of clothes onto your floor.
“Guys, I have to wear something tonight and we’ve gone through, like, half of my wardrobe!” you hold your hands out at your sides, your voice incredibly whiny as you plead with your friends.
“Okay, okay, let me take a look,” Nancy says, getting up and searching through your ransacked closet.
You were going on a date tonight. Nancy had eventually squeezed the confession out of you that you loved Eddie, but you still hadn’t informed her that you actually told him that and that he left. It had now been two weeks since you’d spoken to Eddie and she kept telling you you needed to actively try and forget him. Because, big surprise, sitting alone in your apartment all day eating pints of ice cream clearly wasn’t helping - much to your dismay. So she took it upon herself to help and set you up on a date with a friend of Jonathan’s.
According to his Instagram profile, he was cute, and he seemed like a nice guy based on everything Nancy told you. He went by Argyle, which, a little weird, but hey - you just told your fuck buddy you loved him and he walked out so… you’re not really in a position to judge anyone for anything.
“Ooh! What about this?” Nancy holds up a hanger with a tight black faux-leather skirt and another with a shimmery silver top.
“Nance - they’re going to get ice cream, not to a strip club,” Robin chides, laying on your bed and flipping through a magazine.
“Okay, fine, but I’m borrowing this skirt,” she says, meeting your eyes to get your approval.
You roll your eyes, scrutinizing one strand of hair that won’t do what you want it to do as Nancy continues looking through your clothes.
“Okay! I’ve got it. This is casual, but not so casual that it says you don’t care,” she eyes her selections as she waits for you and Robin to weigh in.
She’s holding a pair of light wash denim shorts, embroidered with little daisies, and a baby pink top with ruched sleeves.
Robin bites her lip excitedly, nodding eagerly at you.
“Not my taste, but totally, absolutely, one hundred perfect for you. Put it on, put it on!” she urges.
You laugh, obliging and changing into the clothes Nancy picked. She has a good eye, you had to admit. The outfit was perfect, cute and expressed that you’d put effort into your appearance, but not overdoing it. As you look at yourself in your mirror, you can’t help but picture Eddie’s face if he saw you in that outfit. His arm snaking around your waist to pull you close. Your fingers trail down to the hem of the shorts, toying with a loose string.
“Hey, earth to Y/N?” Robin waves her hand, snagging your attention. “You still with us? Argyle’s definitely gonna need you alive for the date tonight,” she says lightheartedly, giving you a lopsided smile.
Your lips had fallen into an involuntary frown, and of course the girls catch it immediately.
“Don’t think about him, hun,” Nancy places a hand on your arm, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Argyle’s a great guy, and you’re gonna have fun tonight!”
“Yeah, no you’re right. I’m sorry. I want to give him a chance, I’m excited,” you smile, trying your best to shove the curly brunette metal head out of your mind.
It’s not that you weren’t excited for the date, you really were. Maybe a change of scenery and a new person were exactly the things you needed. But you still felt horrible about setting everything on fire with Eddie, leaving you to sift through the ashes now that the damage was done. And you still love him. The thought wafts through your mind like a bad stench through your nose, and you shake your head as if to rid your brain of it. Screw Eddie, you try and tell yourself. Who needs him anyway?
Just as Nancy finishes applying a healthy amount of makeup to your face, there’s a knock at your door. Like an absolute gentleman, Argyle arrives right on time. You feel wings erupt in your stomach, birds taking flight as your nerves kick in.
Robin notices you go rigid in her gaze.
“You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna have a great time, you got this, kid,” she beams at you, giving you an affirming nod.
You try your best to give a confident smile back, nodding once in confirmation that you do, in fact, have this. The girls shuffle you out of your room and towards the door, practically shoving you to go answer it. Your straighten yourself, taking one last deep breath before swinging the door open.
“Well, good evening, ladies,” Argyle says, flashing his shiny white teeth as he smiles at you and your friends who stand modestly behind you.
“You must be Y/N. I’m Argyle, it’s so nice to meet you,” he keeps the smile on his face, reaching a hand out to shake yours.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” you smile back, taking his hand firmly as you shake it.
“Mind if I steal her away, girls?” he jokes, directing the question at Robin and Nancy.
“Nope! Not at allllllll,” Robin draws out the last syllable, giving you a flirtatious wave.
“She’s all yours! Have fun you two,” Nancy smiles.
They give you a thumbs up when you take one last glance over your shoulder, Argyle leading the way out the door. And so it begins.
Tonight is the night. Tonight is the night Eddie is going to fix shit with you, or at least give an honest attempt. The thought of going through with his plan made him want to genuinely hurl, but he swallowed the bile that rose to his throat and was determined to right this wrong. After letting the truth spill to Steve, the only thing consuming his thoughts has been telling you about how he feels. The entirety of the past night was spent tossing and turning in his bed, fleeting dreams of you rejecting him flashing through his subconscious. His plan, as it currently stands, is as follows: he’s going to swing by the flower shop to get you a beautiful bouquet, and then head over to the local ice cream place to get you your favorite milkshake. Then he plans to show up at your door with his offerings, and apologize profusely. Like, he’s talking begging-on-his-knees, praying to the gods above, apologize. He stomach lurches as he mentally walks through the plan again, getting himself looking presentable for the evening ahead. He knows very, very well that there’s a huge chance this doesn’t go well for him. He knows you might just go ahead and rip the damn milkshake out of his clammy palms and throw it right back in his face, or maybe even throw a punch or two - hell, he deserves it. He’s not asking for forgiveness, he’s not asking for you to welcome him back in with open arms. He just knows that he won’t be able to rest well until he’s told you the truth, he has to apologize and be honest with you, whether you accept him back in or not.
Eddie gives himself a once, twice, three times over in the mirror, although his current attire isn’t much different from his usual. He’s still in his ripped black jeans, his surprisingly white Reeboks, and all of his chains and rings. Instead, though, he’s traded his usual band tee or denim vest with a black button-down shirt. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his nerves. He’d already smoked, hoping the high would ease his worries, to no avail. He’s not used to being nervous like this, not used to second-guessing his appearance or feeling his palms grow sweaty. He’s used to women throwing themselves at him, he’s used to one-night stands with no big feelings attached, he’s used to being balls deep inside someone and then never speaking a word to them again. He loves you. The thought plays over and over in his mind. He grabs his phone and his wallet and his keys before heading out the door, shuffling into his car and heading out on his mission.
The drive to the ice cream place wasn’t nearly as awkward as you thought it’d be, finding a lot to talk about with Argyle. He’s friendly and outgoing, never forcing a conversation but also never leaving room for the silences to be awkward. You don’t feel like you have to act a certain way to impress him, he’s just happy to be with you. It’s refreshing, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find your mind wandering elsewhere. It was already proving hard to keep Eddie out of your thoughts - Argyle would make a reference to something Eddie liked, the air freshener in Argyle’s car is the same one as in Eddie’s, so on and so forth. It’s like your brain was purposely torturing you, distracting you from having a good time. Eddie probably wasn’t thinking about you, so why did you have to be plagued with near constant thoughts of him?
“Hey, are you okay?” Argyle’s smooth voice breaks you out of your thoughts.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to zone out. I’m fine,” you give him a reassuring smile, and he looks at you for only a moment before seeming to accept your response.
“Well, anyway, I’ve never had the ice cream here but Jonathan said it’s the best. You’ll have to give me some recommendations,” he grins as he pulls his car into the parking lot, one hand on the wheel as the other taps on the crevice of the open window.
“Will do,” you smile. “Though I have to warn you, I always get the same damn thing,” you laugh, and he laughs along with you.
You both step out of the car, the sweet scent of waffle cones and vanilla milkshakes filling your nose. Argyle opens the door and a bell chimes, signaling your entrance as he holds the door for you. The air conditioning is on full blast, hitting your skin and making goosebumps prick up. You cross your arms instinctively, rubbing the skin for some warmth as you eye the menu, even though you never stray from your tried and true favorite. Argyle notices your slight shivering, immediately slipping his hoodie off and holding it out to you.
You start to decline politely before he waves you off.
“You’re only gonna get colder once you start eating your ice cream. I insist, take it,” you blush a little as you take the jacket, slipping it over your shoulders and leaving the zipper undone.
It’s big on you, Argyle having a height advantage, so you bunch up the sleeves. Instantly, your brain goes to a memory of you at an ice skating rink with Eddie and the rest of the group. You’d forgotten your jacket at home, and Eddie had offered you his within milliseconds of you starting to shiver. It was one of few times where Eddie made any sort of affection towards you known to others, rather than keeping it a raunchy secret, and you’d felt on top of the world parading around in his sweatshirt. Of course, that night had ended no differently than the others, Eddie fucking you into his mattress and taking you home afterwards, leaving you feeling empty.
You try to replace the thoughts of Eddie with thoughts of your current date, try to convince yourself that wearing Argyle’s hoodie feels just as good as wearing Eddie’s, but it doesn’t, and you can’t. You put as much focus as you can onto what Argyle’s saying, put on a happy face as you give him your flavor recommendations, but a man that’s not here is tugging at your heart strings all the while. You order at the counter, your usual birthday cake milkshake, letting Argyle decide a moment longer. You actually wince when he orders two scoops of butterscotch ice cream, the exact same thing Eddie would order the few times you’d come here with all of your friends. You feel like the world is playing a sick joke on you, refusing to let you let go of Eddie. You feel like you’re not even in your body when you grab a hold of the cold cup that your frozen dessert is in, only coming back to reality when Argyle asks where you want to sit.
You choose a booth by the window, the electric glow of the ‘Open’ sign flickering onto the table through the glass pane. Argyle takes a bite of his ice cream, and you give him your best effort in conversation.
“Well, what do you think?” you smile at him, forcing it a little too much maybe.
“I think I could drop dead right now this is so good,” he smiles right back, licking his spoon clean of another mouthful. “How’s yours?”
“Even better considering I didn’t have to pay for it,” you take a sip of your shake to punctuate your sentence. “Thank you, again.”
“Don’t have to thank me, I’m more than happy to pay for a girl as pretty as you,” he gives you another little grin, nothing but kindness behind his eyes.
You smile back, but you’re cursing inside your head. You have a sweet guy sitting in front of you, genuinely trying to get to know you and have a nice date, and you can’t stop thinking about someone else. There’s nothing wrong with Argyle, and you’re trying your very best to will yourself to fall in love with him or something when the door chime breaks you from your thoughts.
You look up at the door instinctively, and you almost choke on your ice cream at what you see. Eddie walks in through the door, looking gorgeous as ever, because of fucking course this would happen right now. You go rigid when he looks your direction and meets your eyes, and your face is instantly flushed with heat. You suddenly feel suffocated in Argyle’s hoodie, your stomach churning as you stare into those all-too-familiar brown eyes. You manage to tear your gaze away before he does, not wanting Argyle to get suspicious and try to discover what you’re staring at. You give yourself a mental kick, refusing to allow yourself to crumble in Eddie’s presence. Don’t let him see you sad, show him you’re fine without him. You reach across the table and brush your fingers on Argyle’s arm, laughing maybe a little too loud at something he says. You feel bad using him as revenge in this moment, but lucky for you, you don’t have to do it for very long. Eddie doesn’t order a thing, just turns on his heel and leaves.
Eddie feels like he can’t breathe when he gets back into his car, sitting in the parking lot with his heart threatening to shatter beneath his ribcage. You’re on a date. He was going to try and fix things, going to tell you he loves you, and you’re on a date. Of course he noticed the garment keeping you warm, far too big to be your jacket. You’re wearing this other guy’s jacket, so the date must be going well. He feels the bile rise in his throat at the thought of you in another guy’s clothes, the thought of another guy taking you home and kissing you and holding you and treating you the way you deserved - the way he never treated you. The worst part of it all is that Eddie knows he deserves this. He doesn’t deserve to get the happy ending, he burned this whole thing to the ground and he’s left searching for remnants of life in the wake of the fire. He pulls out of the parking lot, no destination in mind anymore. The flowers he got for you sit mockingly in his passenger seat, their sweet scent filling his nose as if to laugh at him. What the fuck does he do now?
After seeing Eddie at the ice cream place, you couldn’t get your head back on straight. You ended up telling Argyle you had a killer of a headache, and without hesitation he brought you home. Guilt tugged at your feet as you trudged up your stairs with him, tugged at your heart when he asked if there was anything he could do for you before he left. The poor, sweet guy didn’t even question it, showed no indication of him doubting your excuse. You knew you’d get an earful from Robin and Nance if they got wind of this. You’d promised Argyle you’d be okay and told him he was fine to leave, thanking him for the lovely date. You hated yourself for the way you couldn’t like him, the way every inch of your body and mind was stuck on Eddie. Nothing about Argyle was bad, and you lay cursing yourself on your mattress in your room. You eventually decide to change into something more comfortable, shed any tangible reminders of the date you ended too soon. You crawl under your covers in sweatpants and your coziest sweatshirt, pulling the blankets up to your face as frustrated tears burn your cheeks. Anger bubbles up inside of you, and takes over any other emotion you’d been feeling.
You’re angry that you can’t stop thinking about Eddie. Angry that you had to see Eddie tonight. Angry that you went on a date with a very nice guy and couldn’t get into it because of Eddie. Angry that Eddie left without a word when you told him you loved him. Angry that you let him treat you so poorly because you just can’t get enough of him. Cotton sweater sleeves are soaked with tears as you let the feeling flow from you, balling your hands up into fists and releasing them. Entirely unsure of what to do next, or how to get over this.
Eddie went home for all of an hour before realizing he couldn’t just sit around in silence and do nothing. Not now that he’d already had his plan literally in motion, he couldn’t stop. Even if you didn’t love him anymore, even if you wanted nothing to do with him, even if you wanted to throw the flowers back in his face and throw a punch or two, he had to open up to you. He gets in his car, hands shaking and stomach in knots as he prepares himself. For all he knows, your date could be back at your place with you. Or maybe you aren’t even home yet. But he has to try, has to get his feelings out in the open, at least so you know - even if you don’t want to be with him. It feels like every stoplight on his drive is mocking him, glowing red for seemingly agonizing amounts of time. The more time he has to think, the more sick to his stomach he feels. When he finally arrives in the parking lot of your place, he just sits for a moment. Taking shaky breaths, his stomach somersaults in anxious anticipation. One ringed hand reaches out for the beautiful bouquet of flowers beside him, picking them up by the crinkly paper they’re encased in before he opens his car door and shuts off the engine. Every stomp of his shoes on the stairs makes his heart pound faster, coming closer and closer to a confession bigger than any he’s ever given before. He stands in front of your door, begging silently for you to simply answer, and finally, he raises a fist to the wood to alert you.
The knocking startles you out of your slew of emotions, and you groan as you heave yourself out of bed. You’re fully expecting it to be Nancy or Robin at the door, or both of them, ready to interrogate you on why you cut your date short. You swing the door wide, mouth open and fully ready to defend yourself to the girls. Instead, you’re met with that curly frizzy hair and those round brown eyes that you know too well. Eddie stands like a deer in headlights, as if he wasn’t the one who knocked on your door, holding a massive bouquet of flowers in one hand. You let out an incredulous laugh, a no-fucking-way-are-you-here-right-now laugh. You go to slam the door right in his stupid beautiful face when he holds an arm out, wrenching it open.
“Wait. Please,” his voice chokes up as he says it.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Eddie? Saw me on a date with someone else and had to come assert your dominance or something?” you scoff, crossing your arms as if to protect yourself from more emotional hurt.
“No, I…. is your date still here?”
“What if he is, Eddie? Can’t wrap your head around the fact that another guy wanted to go out with me?” you snap.
“No no, I just… I don’t wanna do this if he’s here,” his voice is desperate, rushing to get the words out.
“He’s not here. And do what, exactly? String me along again just to leave me stranded in the end?” the words hurt you as you say them, a part of your heart wanting to just run to him and never let him go, and the other part wanting to run from him.
“I need to tell you how sorry I am. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I was an asshole, a horrible person to you, and you never deserved it,” his eyes flicker down to his feet before tentatively meeting yours again.
“Oh, my knight in shining armor, arriving at my door to apologize and I’m supposed to just fall at your feet, huh?” you shift your weight, raising an eyebrow at him.
“No! No, I don’t expect anything from you. But I can’t run from my feelings anymore.”
“Feelings?” you furrow your brows, your chest tightening.
Eddie is silent for a moment, fingers nervously fidgeting with the paper surrounding the bright green stems and vibrant petals. You roll your eyes, about to shut the door once again when he speaks up.
“I love you!” he blurts, his eyes frantic as they search yours.
“What?”
“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I’ve known you were special since I met you, you’re different than anyone else I’ve ever met. I was too much of a fucking coward to tell you how much I liked you earlier because… because I was scared of getting hurt. And all I did was hurt you in the process, and I’m so sorry.”
You’re dumbfounded, your mouth hanging open slightly as you struggle for words.
“You didn’t say a word to me, Eddie,” your voice comes out quiet, pained. “You left without a single fucking word,” you hiss.
“I know I did. And it was the worst mistake of my entire life. I panicked, I didn’t know what to do - and that’s not an excuse - but I’m so, so sorry.”
You can see the hurt in his eyes, the fear encompassing espresso brown. He’s not joking around, he’s not playing with you this time.
“And you don’t have to say anything else. If you don’t love me anymore, if you don’t want to be with me or see me ever again, I get it. Say the word and I will walk away and never show my face to you again. I was a jerk, and I don’t deserve you. But I swear to you, I will never - never - hurt you again if you let me stay. I’m sorry it took me so long to say how I feel,” Eddie’s voice is breaking, and you can tell how much effort it’s taking him to keep himself together.
You snap, then. Your love for Eddie that you’ve been trying to shove down for weeks, finally claws it’s way out. No more forcing it back. No more hiding. Your feet are moving before you can process it. You throw yourself at him, taking the flowers and tossing them to the floor, wrapping your arms around him and feeling him hold you.
“I hate you so fucking much, Eddie Munson,” you smile through your wobbly voice, a new kind of tears springing in your eyes.
And Eddie laughs, his eyes also watery, because he knows you don’t mean it.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you, too.”
“Be mine forever, please,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips ghost over yours.
“It would be the honor of a lifetime,” you say.
He presses his forehead to yours, letting you lead when you lean in to kiss him. It feels like fireworks go off above your heads, your lips colliding in a way that finally won’t lead to a quick fuck on someone else’s mattress. No, this time you kiss him and it feels real. You feel secure, no longer worrying that the floor will fall out beneath your feet. His hands hold your face, thumbs brushing soft strokes along the apples of your cheeks. You cling to him like he’s your lifeline, kissing him like you never have before. Pouring your love into him, filling his cup because he’s finally allowing you to.
“Wait,” you say suddenly, pulling back. Eddie’s stomach drops, worried you’ve changed your mind. “I owe you an apology too,” you say.
He gives you a questioning look.
“I know you weren’t flirting with those women at The Hideaway the night we went out… Nancy told me it was a misunderstanding… and it was wrong of me to accuse you.”
“Sweetheart… you had every right to assume. I wasn’t exactly the kindest to you…” Eddie frowns.
“Even so, you weren’t flirting and you still deserve some grace. I’m sorry, Eddie. I blew this whole thing up in your face over something you didn’t actually do,” your voice is remorseful, and Eddie tilts your chin up with his index finger.
“I forgive you, always. I was never upset with you for that,” he promises, and his heart aches. The sweetest thing standing before him, apologizing when there was no need to.
You kiss him again, pulling him with you as you shuffle backwards into your apartment. He kicks the door shut, holding you to his chest as he stands against it. Your fingers clutch the collar of his shirt, mouth moving against his with fervor, like this is your last chance to kiss him. Eddie gasps in surprise when you tug him even closer to you, his large palms spanning across your back and holding you snug to his body. Tongues find their way into each other’s mouths, soft like velvet as they lick and explore. You find yourself grinding your hips into his, your body desperate to have him in a way like never before.
“Sweetheart, sweets,” Eddie pushes out between kisses, finally holding you back from attacking his mouth once more. “This doesn’t have to go any further… if you don’t want it to. I don’t want you to think that’s the reason I’m here,” Eddie says, and his tone is suddenly sad. You know the guilt is still eating at him, and will probably continue to eat at him no matter how much you reassure him going forward.
“I don’t think that’s why you’re here,” you reply, cupping a hand to the side of his face and looking intensely into his eyes, reassuring him. “But I’d be a dirty fucking liar if I said I haven’t missed your cock lately,” your voice drops lower, leaning up to his ear to murmur the words into it.
Your breath tickles his neck and he shudders, his cock stiffening in his jeans.
“Shit, baby,” he breathes, diving back down to your mouth for another heated kiss.
You lead him to your bedroom, somehow managing to make it safely despite the fact that your lips might as well be velcro’d to each other. Your hands roam his body like it’s the first time, butterflies fluttering madly in your stomach. Eddie’s hands are gentle on you, touching you in a new way. Nothing is rushed or hasty, instead Eddie takes his time as his hands find their way up your sweatshirt. You shiver when his fingertips graze your hips and start to glide up your back, his mouth devouring yours all the while. He groans into your mouth when you reach a hand down to palm him through the denim of his pants, making you pull back to smirk at him.
“Getting worked up for me, Munson?” you tease, silently reveling in the way he’s letting himself be more receptive to you.
“You have no idea, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, his hands steady as he holds you.
You smile, leaning back in to kiss him with a clash of teeth. Eddie pushes you backwards gently, taking slight control as he encourages you down onto your bed. You lie back on your mattress, spreading your legs open for him to slot himself between. He climbs on top of you, hovering over you, dark curls falling in your face and tickling your skin. Your phone rings then, breaking you both out of the moment. The screen lights up with Nancy’s name, and you can’t help but laugh. Texts from Robin pop up right after, and Eddie raises a brow at you.
“I’ll debrief them later,” you smirk at him, shoving your phone away and holding his face in your hands.
“I’m so incredibly in love with you,” he says, his eyes pools of melted chocolate, sickeningly sweet with adoration as he gazes at you.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” you breathe out a little laugh, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
“I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone… never thought I’d let myself,” Eddie frowns slightly, relaxing when you grip his face in your hands.
“Thank you for letting me be the first,” you give him a soft smile, eyes lighting up when he blushes.
You pull his mouth back to yours, needy hands grabbing at the buttons on his shirt in a hint for him to remove it. He obliges instantly, unbuttoning it and sipping it off before being discarded onto your floor. You take a moment just to look at him, your eyes raking over his shirtless form. During your past hookups you never felt like you had the time to admire him, half the time you were too embarrassed to even try, for fear that he’d mock you for it. Now it’s different. You let your eyes and hands wander up and down pale skin, tracing the ink lines etched into various places. You can feel him growing harder in his pants when your fingers ghost over his crotch, smiling into the kiss when Eddie lets out a heavy breath.
“Need to get some of these clothes off you, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your mouth, pawing at the hem of your thick sweatshirt.
You help him pull it off of you, exposing your tits which lay perfectly on your chest, nipples perking up from the chill of your air conditioning. It’s his turn to admire you now, his hands cupping the soft skin of your breasts as he looks at you like you’re the greatest thing he’s ever seen.
“You’re s’fuckin perfect,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck. “‘M so lucky,” a kiss to your collarbone, “the luckiest guy in the world,” his lips trail down to your tits before he wraps them around one of your peaked nipples.
His tongue kitten licks the sensitive little bundle, getting you breathless as his mouth switches over to the other one. One hand finds its way beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers curling over your mound still concealed by the thin fabric of your panties. There’s a wet patch already forming there, and you know he can feel it. Your cheeks flush when his fingers circle the wetness and he gasps a little, giving you a devilish smirk.
“Oh? What’s this?” he teases, leaning down to kiss your lips and then trailing his mouth to your jawline.
“Need you,” you whine, too desperate for him to retaliate against his taunting.
“You have me, sweet girl. For as long as you want me,” he brushes a strand of hair out of your face, leaning down once more to kiss you all over.
His lips move over the swell of your breasts, down to your bellybutton, finally stopping right above the fabric of your sweatpants. Big brown doe eyes look up at you, waiting for permission. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding at him as you feel yourself tremble slightly with anticipation. He hooks his fingers into the cozy fabric, tugging the pants down your legs before tossing them to the floor. His mouth kisses over your underwear, tongue pressing flat against your folds, causing you to moan at the heat you feel at your core.
“Ed-dieeeeee,” you choke out between a gasp, reaching a hand down in an attempt to take your panties off.
“So impatient, aren’t we?” he purrs, admiring the wet spot he contributed to on your underwear before pulling them off and letting them mingle with the rest of your discarded garments.
He buries his face in your cunt almost instantly, his plush lips so soft against your folds as he presses kisses to them. He tongue is gentle when it first licks a stripe up through your wetness, and you hiss at the contact. You missed his mouth on you, missed his hands roaming your body. It feels so good to know he’s not going anywhere this time. Eddie wastes no time getting to work, his tongue dipping inside of you before playing with your clit, shaggy curls tickling your inner thighs as his head moves. His name falls from your lips like a mantra as he devours you, licking and sucking on you like you’re his last meal. He ruts his hips down into your mattress, erection straining in his jeans. You notice the movement and halt him immediately, almost losing your breath when he looks up at you with sparkling eyes, chin glistening with your slick.
“Why don’t you take those jeans off, handsome?” you encourage, reaching down to run a hand through his wild hair.
His fingers undo his belt buckle with ease, it’s the handcuff one that you always struggled to maneuver. Black denim joins the pile on your floor, and you notice the tented fabric of his boxers instantly.
“Poor baby,” you coo, “look how worked up you are for me,” your gentle fingers stroke his shaft through the fabric, earning a deep groan from him.
“Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he rasps, and you can tell how desperate he is for more contact.
“Why don’t you fuck me, then?” you ask, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.
Eddie doesn’t need to be asked twice, shoving his boxers down his legs and off entirely. His cock springs free, and he’s harder than you think you’ve ever seen him. You can see the veins protruding from the shaft, the head a flustered red with pearlescent pre-cum just starting to drip out. A patch of dark curls rests at the base of his cock, enticing you, his heavy balls hanging low beneath. You nearly whimper at the sight, and he watches you as you take in every inch of him. He’s always loved the way you love his cock, though it’s never felt quite like it does now. He knows he’s presenting himself to you in a new way, and you’re admiring him in a new way. All he wants now is to bury himself inside you, feeling every single inch of your tight pussy as it swallows him whole.
“You ready for me, baby?” he questions, leaning down and hovering mere centimeters from your lips.
“Mhm, please,” you whine, keening up to press your lips to his in quick kisses, a tiny string of saliva connecting the two of you.
One of Eddie’s hands grabs the base of his cock, rubbing it up and down through your wet folds. You arch your back instinctively, gasping at the sensation. Eddie chuckles, low and deep, pressing kisses to your jawline and traveling down to your neck. Without much warning he slips his cock into you, the head stretching you as it paves the way for the rest of him. You let out a pornographic moan, holding nothing back from him this time around. You want him to know how good he makes you feel, how he sets every inch of you on fire in the most remarkable way. He continues to stretch you open for him, groaning at how easily you’re taking him.
“Shit, sweet girl, you’re just suckin’ me right in,” Eddie praises, his forehead dropping to rest on top of yours.
You can’t form words in response, the air being punched from your lungs when he sinks the last inch of him in. You’re so incredibly full of him, you swear you can feel him in every inch of your body. Your hands wrap around his back, clinging to the backs of his shoulders, hooking yourself to him. You want him closer than ever, need him all to yourself, and the way he brushes his nose against yours lets you know that he’s not going anywhere. He starts to slowly move, hips rocking as he thrusts gently. Even with his subtle movements, the sounds coming from your cunt are obscene, and all he can do is curse under his breath. You whimper beneath him, clinging ever tighter to his soft skin.
“What is it, baby?” he asks, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“A little harder, Eddie, please?” you ask, round eyes looking up at him.
“Okay, sweetheart. But I don’t wanna just fuck you tonight,” he says, pausing to kiss you. “I wanna make love to you, the way I should’ve been for months now,” he admits, his cheeks flushing pink at his vulnerability.
“I love you so fucking much,” you whisper against his lips, “make love to me then, Eddie.”
And that he does. He gives it to you a little harder, knowing it’ll drive you crazy if he keeps his movements too slow. But his strokes aren’t rushed, he’s not in a race to cum, he’s just taking his time with you. He rolls his hips into you, dragging out each thrust and letting you feel every vein and ridge in his cock as he stretches you. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, hair sprawled across your pillow, eyes glassy as you grow dumb on his thick length. Your lips brush, oftentimes frozen slack-jawed as you moan into each others’ mouths. Eddie devours every sweet sound you make for him, pinching his eyes shut as he picks up his pace a little. His balls slap against you as he delivers each thrust, filling you to the brim before pulling back out. His movements are sensual, his hands kneading your breasts or gripping your hips as he fucks into you. He kisses all over your face, unspoken ‘I love yous’ communicated by the affection.
You’re filled with so many emotions as you let him unravel you, your eyes welling up with tears. Having Eddie to yourself feels better than you could’ve imagined, every single snap of his hips into yours reminding you that this time, everything is different. He’s soaking you in like you’re uncharted territory waiting to be discovered, caressing every curve and dip of your body. You babble nonsense beneath him, his name falling from your lips over and over. Your lips are wobbly, eyes watery as you’re overwhelmed with adoration for him. Eddie’s quick to kiss your tears away, whispering his affections for you between each press of his soft lips.
“My favorite girl,” he mumbles into your skin.
The sentiment he’d given you so many times before, the one you always hoped he meant, always pining to be his most important girl. It sounds sweeter coming out of his mouth now, no doubt in your mind that he’s speaking the truth.
“‘M so close, Eddie,” you pant. “Gonna cum. Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” your eyes roll back in your head as Eddie keeps a steady pace.
The tip of his cock hits just where you need it to, setting your insides ablaze. Eddie’s close, too, you can tell in the way his breathing has grown staggered.
“I’m gonna cum too, baby. Want it inside?”
“Yes,” you cry out, “please.”
Eddie rocks into you a few more times before you’re cumming around him, walls gripping him so tight, fluttering against his cock and giving him the friction he so desperately needs. You’ve got a death grip on him as he spills his load inside of you, his hips slowing as every drop fills you. He finally stills once every drop has left him, taking heavy breaths as he grounds himself. Your tits are pressed against his chest, feeling him so impossibly close to you, sweat coating your skin as well as his.
Chocolate brown eyes meet yours as you come out of your euphoric haze, Eddie giving you a lovesick grin. You giggle as you smile back at him, still catching your breath.
“That was amazing. You’re amazing,” Eddie says, letting out an airy little laugh.
“Feels so good to love you,” you reply, making him blush yet again.
He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince slightly. He goes into your bathroom without a word, grabbing a clean towel and getting it slightly damp with warm water. He returns to clean you up, wiping your sensitive skin oh so gently, leaving kisses on your inner thighs in the towel’s wake. You sigh contentedly, curling up under your blankets while Eddie goes to clean himself up. He makes himself comfortable in bed beside you once he returns, silently staring at you once more with those gorgeous eyes, saying so much without even opening his mouth. He pulls you closer to him, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For everything.”
You don’t say anything in response, words aren’t necessary to convey how you feel. The way you curl closer into him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing, says everything Eddie needs to hear. You fall asleep not long after, the sound of Eddie’s breathing and the feeling of his strong arms around you soothing you into a slumber.
The next morning you wake to sunlight peeking through your curtains, casting a soft orange glow on your entire room. You rub your eyes, letting them focus as you look around your room. Your gaze lands on the discarded clothes on your floor before trailing upwards, over the sleeping form beside you concealed by your comforter, until it finally lands on Eddie’s face snuggled into your pillow. Frizzy curls sprawled over the pillowcase, long eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he continues to sleep peacefully. You smile to yourself, your heart thumping in your chest as you hear him snoring softly. After the mess of the last couple of months, your aching heart and puffy eyes over the last couple weeks, the dust is finally settling. Everything was set on fire, and you’re realizing now that flames don’t always leave decay and destruction in their wake. Sometimes, they pave the way for new growth, blossoming beginnings. You and Eddie lie here together now, as the smoke leaves the air and the sun rises, bathed in the afterglow.
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strangermarvelss · 1 year
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all of the girls you loved before- e.m
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Summary: the one where eddie runs into his first love, leaving you to question your relationship in the aftermath. loosely based on the taylor swift song with the same title.
Warnings: angst, crying, jealousy, insecurity, eddie being rude unintentionally, cursing, pda (gross), eddie and reader are a few years out of high school, fluff, happy ending
Word Count: 4.8k
Request?: No
A/N: hello again everyone, its been a minute! since i’ve been gone, i’ve entered my swiftie era (not like crazy obsessed but def a fan of the music) and this gem of a song dropped and plucked some inspiration from me, so here is a new one shot for you all! enjoy! -sava
The haze within the hot open room of the Hideout was starting to dissipate, the crowd exiting the venue one by one as the band you’ve been cheering on from your spot at the bar begins clearing the stage of their equipment. The ringing in your ears has yet to go away, getting so lost in the metal music that you didn’t care if it would bite you in the ass at work tomorrow, you’d find a way to take customers orders at the diner, even if they had to scream in order for you to understand. 
You found yourself sitting at the same spot at the Hideout every Tuesday night to cheer your boyfriend and his band members on. Within the years since graduating high school, the town you called home started coming around to the type of music your boyfriend played, despite ridiculing him for years prior to their own revelations. With the new popularity, Tuesday nights at the Hideout have gone from 5 drunks sitting in the back to almost a packed house every week, begging for encores and autographs at the end of each show. It made you happy seeing your boyfriend celebrated in such a way, having been there for him in his lowest points when the tables were turned. Now you bask in his glory like never before, cheering him on alongside the rest of the town.
Paying your tab, you begin walking towards the back stage area when you see a tall lanky man with long luscious curls make his way over to you, his smile wide as his signature dimples poked into the sides of his cheeks. He extends his arms wide, not caring if he gets in anyones way as he greets you. Taking off in a run, you launch yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he catches you, hands making contact with your ass in a not-so-subtle way. You pull away and look at him momentarily before pressing your lips to his.
You take in his scent as your mouths move together as one, the sweaty smell that was no match for masking with his cheap cologne filling your nostrils, but you didn’t mind one bit. You part away from his lips, looking at the deep chocolate irises that you love seeing on a daily basis before running a hand through his sweaty mop of curls. He sets you down and plays with his bangs, moving them to the side as they desperately try to cling to his damp forehead.
“You guys killed it tonight,” you tell him, pulling him in for another hug. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side and twisting his upper body and leaning down to press a kiss to your hair before flashing a closed mouth smile at you.
“Couldn’t have done it without my number one fan,” he says, cupping your cheek with his large calloused hand and placing yet another kiss to your body, this time directed at your forehead.
“So I was thinking that maybe tonight we go back to my apartment and watch some movies? I know we usually go bother my coworkers at the diner after your show but I kind of just want some you and me time,” you tell him with a smile.
“That sounds even better than going to the diner. I bet you’ve already picked out a selection of movies.” “You know me so well. I rented Halloween, Nightmare on Elm St-“
“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” a feminine voice calls out from behind you. You and Eddie turn around, watching a slim figure approach you with a bashful look plastered on her face. As she got closer, you noticed she was wearing a short black leather skirt and a bright pink top, barely leaving anything to the imagination with the amount of cleavage she was showing. Her hair was long and straight, looking silky to the touch as her skin glowed under the colorful stage lights that were still on. Who the hell is this, and how did she know Eddie?
Eddie squints his eyes as she approaches the two of you, his face relaxing and the smile growing wider than you’ve ever seen it when he finally makes out her features. You won’t deny the twinge you feel in your chest as you watch him drop your hand and give the mysterious woman a big embrace, bigger than the one he gave you moments ago.
“Holy shit! How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Eddie exclaims, breaking away and tucking his hands under his armpits.
“M’good! Just finished up college not too long ago so I came back to Hawkins while I search for something a little more permanent,” she tells him, her timid demeanor going out the window as you watch the two grow comfortable with one another. “I see things at the Hideout have changed since we went to high school not too long ago.”
“Yeah, they sure have,” Eddie chuckles, kicking one of his feet out as he looks down. “Looks like the people in this shit town have finally come around when it comes to listening to good music.”
As you watch the interactions from person to person unfold in front of you, you feel the familiar tickle in your nose begin, hoping and praying that you won’t be noticeable if you aren’t able to get rid of the impending sneeze.
“Achoo!” You exclaim, bending down and hiding your nose in the crook of your elbow, silently yelling at yourself when you watch both pairs of eyes land on you.
“Bless you,” the mystery woman says with a smile. You nod, taking a step forward to try and join in on the conversation.
“Thank you,” you tell her, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N by the way, Eddie’s girlfriend.”
You watch Eddie nod as she takes your hand, shaking it firmly. “I’m Heather.”
Suddenly you feel your brain catching up with the rest of the world, clicking into place once the name leaves her mouth. This was the Heather you’d heard so much about from Eddie’s friends. The same Heather that just so happened to be his first love, capturing his heart in ways you wish you could’ve done yourself. If only you’d moved to Hawkins earlier in your high school career compared to your senior year, a.k.a Eddie’s second attempt at being a senior. 
The members of the Hellfire Club gave you all the details that you needed to know about Heather: that she was Eddie’s first everything. First date, first love, first time, and eventually, his first heartbreak. The two were smitten with one another when no one else wanted to look Eddie’s way, with all the judgy classmates questioning why they were together in the first place. They didn’t see Eddie for who he truly was, they only ever judged him based on his outer appearance. The same goes for Heather: everyone always questioned why someone as hot as her would settle for someone like Eddie, which always made you upset to hear.
“It’s really nice to meet you Heather. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you tell her, trying your best to sound as sincere as possible. Eddie shoots you a look, silently telling you to stop, which makes your heart drop a bit. Adverting your eyes from him, you look back at Heather, who didn’t miss the interaction. 
“All good things I hope,” she jokes.
“Are you kidding? Of course all good things. I can only hope you extended the same courtesy for me, if you did tell your college friends about me,” he says, rushing the last part out. Was he getting nervous?
“I can assure you that I did. Even after the way things ended…” she says, looking down to the ground as her sentence trails off. You can sense the tension in the air, feeling as if you’re causing the vibe of the conversation to shift a bit. Masking your feelings with a smile, you turn to them and excuse yourself, lying about needing to use the restroom before heading out for the night. Holding the curtain to the side, you enter the backstage area and round a counter towards an empty hallway you know nobody ever comes down after the shows, as you and Eddie have had your share of moments in this very spot, both PG and R rated moments.
As the secluded feeling sinks in, you feel the confidence and happiness that filled your body just moments ago begin to evaporate, vanishing into thin air as you replay the last few minutes in your head. His big smile when he saw her, the big and warm embrace, the look he gave you when you nudged your way into the conversation. It made you want to shrink into yourself. Jealousy was never something you were known for having, usually being more focused on the moment at hand and knowing the security you had with the relationships you had with the people around you.
But the history between Eddie and Heather changed that.
When you first heard about Heather, you didn’t pay much attention to it because you knew that was his past. He told you numerous times that he loves you and loves being with you, and it made you confident in the strength of your relationship. But knowing how strong those feelings he had for Heather and seeing her interact with him in real time, it changed things. He was a different man from the one he was in high school, having graduated and making a name for himself with the music he loves performing. And now that Heather is back in Hawkins for a while, it makes you wonder what could happen between the two of them. 
Would they be able to reconcile? It didn’t look like there were any harsh feelings anymore, so maybe making up was still an option for them. What if Eddie wanted to revisit his past and be with the girl he loved before you came into his life? Was the love he had for her stronger than the love he has for you?
You could feel yourself being to spiral, your arms wrapping around your body and hugging on tight. Your breathing was starting to become jagged and unsteady, trying your best to take deep breaths slowly to get yourself to calm down. Thinking the worst was always such an easy solution for you, because preparing for the worst and not being shocked by the disappointment that lies ahead was better than being blind to the impending doom.
Once you feel yourself becoming calmer, you exit the hallway and walk towards the curtain once again, hesitating and stopping in your tracks. Peeking your head out, you can see the two of them still talking, Eddie throwing his head back in laughter as the two share a funny moment with one another, making your heartache grow. Retreating back behind the curtain, you turn and see Gareth walking your way, a smug look on his face before contorting into a welcoming smile.
“Hey Y/N! Glad to see you made it out tonight, even though I know you’re in the audience every Tuesday,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. You give him a quick hug, pulling away and failing to mask the hurt as you see his demeanor change. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine…it’s just, Heather is here tonight. She came up to Eddie and I and started talking with him and catching up-“
“Wait, Heather Heather?” Gareth asks before poking his head out of the curtain. “Holy shit! I had no idea she was back in town. Still looks as hot as ever.”
Pretending to ignore that, you let out a sigh and tap him on the shoulder. Gareth turns to you, lifting a brow.
“Can you make out what her and Eddie are talking about? I think I sort of killed their vibe earlier and now it looks like things are picking up now that I’m not there.”
“Yeah, hang on one second,” he tells you before disappearing behind the curtain. As much as you appreciate Gareth helping, you were more scared to know how the conversation is going. With all the possibilities that were swirling around in your head, it was just getting fogged up with negativity that you were not expecting this evening and you hated going to such a low place.
A moment later, Gareth pops back from the other side of the curtain with a neutral expression, which worries you more than it should. You raise your eyebrows at him, bracing yourself for whatever news that he was about to deliver.
“So I used the gig as an excuse to talk with them and told Eddie that we were almost done loading the equipment up, which is true, and he said he’d be back here in a minute. But as I was walking away, I heard Heather mention how they should catch up another time over coffee and when I looked back, she was writing her number down on a napkin for him,” he explains.
Somehow the news hurts you more than you imagined it would. With their plans on the horizon sometime soon, it made the insecurities rise once again. You knew how special someone’s first love could be because Eddie was that for you. Before moving to Hawkins, you had your fair share of dating but none that meant much to you compared to the feelings your harbor for Eddie. Knowing that he already experienced that with someone else didn’t bother you until that person had to show up right there in front of you. A majority of these worries and doubts reside in your head, you’re aware of that, but it almost feels as if there is going to be a choice he is going to make, and it isn’t looking good for your side.
You can feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, unable to hide the frown that resides on your lips as you process what Gareth told you. Looking at him, you flash him a sad smile before wiping away at your bottom lash line, a half-baked attempt to get rid of the tears. He rests a hand on your shoulder, ducking his head down to try and make eye contact with you. 
“Hey, don’t get sad, okay? Heather is just Eddie’s past, but you’re his present and his future. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he tries to reassure you.
“Yeah, you might be right,” you tell him before meeting his gaze and making eye contact. “But you didn’t see the way he looked at her. The way he smiled at her, the way he held her. On top of that, the way he looked at me when I talked to her. I’m worried that I actually do have something to worry about,” you explain.
Now it was Gareth’s turn to frown, breaking the eye contact and staring at the floor below. He should know better than anyone how Eddie felt about Heather all those years ago and it doesn’t just go away overnight. 
“I think I should go. I’m going to sneak around the other way…will-will you tell Eddie I wasn’t feeling good or something? If you can think of a good excuse, just use it, because my brain is fogged up right now and I can’t think of any,” you ask. Gareth nods, sending a sad smile your way before you disappear behind more curtains as you make your way around the stage to exit through the front doors unnoticed.
—————————————————————————————————————
It’s been three days since you’ve last seen Eddie.
Clocking out of your shift at the diner, you sigh as you realize its your usual date night with Eddie, yet haven’t heard a word from him since the awkward encounter with his ex at the Hideout. To say the silence has hurt you would be an understatement, as you wait by the phone any chance you’re home hoping he will call. He always makes it a point to call you at the end of each day when he knows you both are already off work, catching up on each others days and talking for hours before falling asleep.
Now you’re going home alone for the fourth night in a row, wasting away as you prepare yourself for when Eddie does eventually call you to break things off, telling you he wants to try things with Heather again while she is in town and rekindle the blissful and naive love they once held in their hearts for one another.
Tossing your jacket on the back of one of the chairs at your kitchen table, you let out a sigh as you begin making your way to your bedroom and undressing your uniform. Quickly, you change into a comfortable band t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, tossing your dirty uniform in your laundry basket before going back to the kitchen. Opening your fridge, you spot the bottle of wine you have been eyeing every day after work this week. The delicious red teasing you and wanting you to indulge in the sweet liquid to cope with the impending end of your relationship.
“Fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, before grasping the bottle and twisting the cap open. Opening the cabinet above, you grab the first wine glass you see and take it out, pouring the wine in until it gets close the the rim. You take hold of the glass and make your way over to your couch, bringing the glass to your lips and letting the wine travel down your throat with ease. 
Before you’re able to bask in the taste, you hear your doorbell ring throughout your apartment. With a puzzled expression, you set the glass of wine down on your coffee table and make your way back to the front door, sliding the peep hold cover to the side to get a look at just who could be outside. Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath before opening the door, standing face to face with the man who owns your heart. At least, for the next few minutes.
“Hey sweetheart,” he says with a smile.
“What are you doing here?” You ask straight out of the gate. 
“Good to see you too,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking down at the pizza box resting in his hands for a moment. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do for date night tonight, so I just took it as an opportunity to plan an evening of pizza, movies, and indulging in the new weed I got from Rick yesterday.”
“I just thought we weren’t going to do date night this week since I hadn’t heard from you,” you say.
“Sorry sweetheart, that is my bad.” He tells you as he makes his way inside your apartment. He sets the pizza on the kitchen table and opens the fridge and pulls a beer out. “I’ve been extremely busy this week with work, band practice, and…uh, well…”
“Heather?” You question, closing the door and resting your back against it as you bring your arms to cross in front of your chest. He stills for a moment, frozen in place as silence falls over the apartment unit. Turning to you, he raises his eyebrows while biting his lip, his physical look of guilt showing front and center. Trying your best to remain stoic, you quirk a brow at him, keeping your position at the door as you wait for an explanation. 
“How, uh…how’d you know about that?” He finally asks after several minutes of silence.
“Gareth told me before I left on Tuesday. Said he overheard her giving you her number,” you answer plainly.
Another beat of silence falls throughout the room. Eddie’s attention is on the floor below him, kicking his feet as he digs his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and forgetting about the beer he was excited about enjoying. You find your eyes diverting to the ground as well, finding it hard to look over at your favorite metalhead. Mentally preparing yourself for the ache to grow, you finally let out a deep sigh, your hand coming up to rub at your forehead before you work up the courage to look at him again.
“Look, if you came all this way to let me down gently with pizza and weed, you can just save yourself the trouble. I’ve already spent the past few days preparing for this, so lets just call it what it is and go on about our lives, okay?” You muster out, feeling your throat close up and voice waver towards the end. You shut your mouth, turning your head as you feel your bottom lip begin to quiver. Opening the door, you step to the side and remain silent, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. You can’t breakdown in front of him, not when he’s choosing another girl over you.
You hear his heavy footsteps grow closer to you, stopping right before your figure. Your eyes are planted to the floor, seeing his stark white Reeboks enter your vision before leaving once again. Suddenly, you feel his hand lay on top of the one holding the handle to the front door, guiding it to a close and stepping to the side.
“I’m not breaking up with you,” he reveals.
You whip your neck in the direction he moved to, seeing the sad expression on his face as his big brown cow eyes look into yours. Part of you was hesitant to question him about it, not wanting his mind to change in a matter of seconds and leave you in a puddle of sadness afterall. But the more logical part of your brain wanted answers. Why did he not bother calling you for days but thought it was okay to hang out with his ex? Why didn’t he confess earlier about seeing her around? Why was he acting so strange at the Hideout, and why didn’t he want you talking to her?
“What?”
“I said I’m not breaking up with you, sweetheart. Why was that even a thought that popped into your head?” He asks, his voice level and sweet. He takes a step closer to you, filling the small gap that had separated you moments ago before slowly extending an arm out to you, cupping your cheek in his hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb across the soft skin.
“I don’t know…” you finally answer, the lack of confidence in your voice giving you away as your sentence trails off.
“C’mon, I know you had to think that somehow. I won’t be mad or anything, I promise. Just want my sweet girl to talk to me.” You take the beat of silence to think about to how explain it to him without coming across as a jealous and needy girlfriend. You can do this, you think to yourself.
“It’s just-I know how you felt during that relationship and how deep the feelings were thanks to Gareth and Jeff, a-and the way you were talking to her and looking at her at the Hideout on Tuesday made it look like no time had passed and that the feelings were still there. I mean, she gave you her number Eds! A-and you just said you hung out with her!” You exclaim, breaking out of his grasp and retreating towards the living room. You run a hand down your face, sighing as you try to level your heavy breathing. 
“Okay, when you put it like that…yeah it sounds bad,” you hear him say from the kitchen. You sit on the couch, taking a large sip of the wine you abandoned earlier. Eddie turns around and stalks over to you, sitting on the chair opposite of you, not wanting to get too close again after the failed attempt. “But baby, I promise nothing happened with Heather and I, okay? We went over to Rick’s last night after grabbing coffee and smoked. Nothing more.”
“I just wish you told me about it,” you let out, feeling deflated from the way you were reacting.
“I know baby, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Work had been busy and when I was going to call you after I woke up yesterday, Heather called and asked to hang out at the coffee shop. I should’ve used the payphone outside the place or hell, called you before I left my place. If I could go back and do so I would.”
You flash him a half-hearted smile, looking back towards your wine glass before picking it up once again. Bringing it to your lips, you take another big sip, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol move throughout your limbs and send a tingling feeling in them. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Eddie slide over onto the couch, still leaving room between the two of you as he leans his arms on his knees, hanging his head down a bit and letting his long mane of curls move forward with him.
“You want to know what we talked about yesterday? Over coffee?” He asks, quirking a brow your way as he shifts a bit from his position.
“Hmm?”
“We caught up, I asked her about college, she told me all kinds of stories. Even told me the story of how she met her fiancé, who moved in with her when she came back to Hawkins. They’re getting married in November, a few weeks before Thanksgiving which I thought was nice. Then I talked to her about you, and how we’ve been dating since the winter of ’84 and been inseparable since then. I must’ve been smiling really hard or something because she pointed out how happy I looked when I talk about you, which is true,” he chuckles out, a silly grin creeping onto his features.
Now it was your turn to smile, unable to hide the warm and fuzzy feeling that made its way into your chest at hearing the words. You set the wine glass back down, shifting on the couch so you were facing his direction, legs crossed as you leaned over to take his hand in yours. “Really?”
“Oh of course baby. Look, what I had with Heather all those years ago was great, and I appreciate the time I had with her then. But loving her taught me how to be better and show the person I was really meant for all the more love and affection that they deserve. You,” he boops your nose, making a giggle escape past your lips. “-you are the one I love now and will love until I take my last breath okay? All the shit I’ve been through was worth it because it brought you to me when you moved here, and I am so fucking happy about that. Wouldn’t trade that for anything.”
You can’t help but feel the burning sensation behind your eyes at Eddie’s sweet words. Sure, you still felt like a bit of a fool for acting like a jealous girlfriend, but hearing Eddie shut down all your worries and reassure you about his feelings for you in the nicest way you could’ve imagined warmed your heart. You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him towards you and closing the distance between you as your lips meet his. His hand instinctively goes to your hip, holding you closer as his mouth moves against yours in fever.
Eventually pulling away, you lean your forehead against his, giggling to yourself as you feel his bangs tickle the sensitive skin of your cheeks. You look at his big brown eyes, seeing the soft look he was giving you and melting all over again.
“Sorry for acting like a jealous girlfriend babe. Not the prettiest look for me if I’m being honest,” you joke.
“Hey, if the roles were reversed, I would totally act the way you did, so I get it. But now you know that you don’t ever have to worry about anyone else, because like I said, you’re it for me baby. I love you.”
“I love you more,” you say, pressing your lips to his cheek. He shoots you a grin, breaking contact with your forehead and rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your leggings. 
“How about I warm up that pizza I brought over and we pop in one of those movies I rented? You probably need some food after all that wine you drank,” he says, making you laugh. Nodding, you agree.
“That sounds like the best idea you’ve had.”
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xoxoladyaz · 10 months
Text
It Hits Different This Time
Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five
“Steve.” 
He hears Robin knocking on the door, her knuckles tapping firmly against the wood.
“STEVE.”
He’s lying on the bed in Robin’s guest bedroom, limbs starfished across the plush gray comforter, staring at the ceiling fan. Taylor Swift is singing to him, blasting from the Alexa speaker next to him.
Oh my, love is a lie, shit my friends say to get me by 
“Alexa, volume up.”
“Steve – STEVE!”
It hits different, it hits different this time
“Alexa, off,” Robin says as she marches into the room. Taylor’s voice cuts off almost immediately and Steve huffs, frustrated.
“Steve, as much as I love listening to your ‘Sad Taylor Swift’ playlist, you need to eat something. Go for a walk. Take a shower.”
“I’d rather not.”
Sighing, Robin kicks his left leg until he’s made enough room for her to collapse down beside him and gaze up at the spinning fan. 
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
They lay in silence.
“It’s just – our three-year anniversary, Robin.”
“I know.”
“He didn’t even text me.”
“I know.”
“And the supermodels at the club! And the tweets!”
“I know, Steve.”
There’s moisture pricking at the inside of his eyes now. “I just – it’s dumb, okay? I thought we could make this work. But I guess I’m not as important to him as he is to me.”
“Dingus,” Robin chides, and he turns his face away so she can’t see that he’s actually crying now. (She still probably knows that he is; Robin always knows. He just doesn’t want anyone to see.) “Okay, is Eddie Munson a huge idiot? Yes, and he has been for as long as we’ve known him. Is he kind of an asshole now that he’s famous? Yes. Do I think this is the end? Not necessarily.”
Steve snorts. “It’s been four days, Robin. Nothing for four days. I think it’s already ended.”
Robin cuddles up to his side so now they’re legitimately snuggling together. “Look, all I’m saying is he’s going to be back in the state in a few days and I think you owe it yourself to at least have a conversation with him. Either you two decide to work things out and start communicating better or you decide that he’s not pulling his weight to make his relationship work and you get closure. Either way, I think you need to talk to him.”
“Yeah,” Steve sniffles. “You’re probably right.”
“Steven, I’m always right.”
“I’m sorry, do you want to talk about the Pixar question you fumbled on trivia night?”
“Dingus, I swear to god if you don’t let it go - ”
/////
Eddie’s groggy and nauseous and fuck the sun is too bright. He pulls at the window-shades as he stumbles into their kitchen, dropping his Louis Vuitton bag on the floor. The fact that he’s managing to walk while coming down from a five day bender that he barely fucking remembers is kind of a miracle. 
“Steve! Stevie, baby, I’m home!”
Silence.
What day is it today, Saturday? He’s probably at the farmer’s market with Robin. Eddie’s a few days early anyways, wanted it to be a surprise. And honestly, it’s probably a good thing Steve’s not home, Eddie needs to keep sobering up.
He pulls a fresh bottle of water out of the fridge and collapses onto the restored dining-room chairs they bought a few months ago. He tips it back and drinks it down greedily, swallowing the cool water down his aching throat. “Oh, that’s good,” he moans to himself, dropping the now empty bottle onto the dining room table.
The empty bottle that clangs against something. Squinting, Eddie opens his eyes and looks down.
There’s a small box sitting at his spot, a card laying haphazardly onto the side. It looks like someone opened it and scribbled all over what they originally wrote.
Eddie frowns and grabs for the card. It’s Steve’s writing. Whatever he’s crossed out is unreadable. Instead, all there is is the following:
I would say Happy Anniversary, but judging by the fact that (1) you didn’t return my call or even text me back and (2) the paps caught you at the club with the guys and a bunch of supermodels instead, I’m going to assume that you’re not interested in celebrating it anymore.
Eddie feels his stomach sink so fast that he’s going to lose all the water he just drank. 
Look, Eds, I am so proud of you for making your dream come true. I would never ask you to give that up or sacrifice your music for me. But I’m tired of feeling alone in this relationship. Of feeling like you don’t love me as much as I love you. Because I would do anything for you, but I think this all proves that you wouldn’t do the same for me.
Anyways, I still want you to have your gift. It wouldn’t make sense to give it to anyone else. 
Your biggest fan, Steve
He can’t see straight and it’s not because of the drugs. He can’t breathe and it’s not because of his asthma or his wicked smoking habit. 
He grabs the small box, flips it open, and chokes back a sob.
It’s a perfect replica of Aragorn’s ring, the ring he’s given that proves he is Isilduir’s heir. He’s wanted it foryears, but it was never something that he thought he could buy for himself. Sure, he could buy whatever random luxury shit without a sweat, but something so meaningful to him? Because reading The Lord of the Rings saved his fucking life in high school? His brain couldn’t deal with him buying it for himself. His therapist says it’s one of his many hang-ups regarding money and fame and his self-esteem issues, but that’s not what matters right now.
What matters is that Steve gave this to him, loved him enough to have it made for him.
And now Steve is gone.
Eddie grabs for his phone with shaking hands and checks the date.
“Fuck.”
Five days. 
He’s five days too fucking late.
He’s dialing Jeff before he can even realize he’s doing it.
“Dude, I really don’t want to be talking to you right now.”
“Jeff,” Eddie barely gets out, his voice choking on a sob. “Steve is gone.”
Jeff’s silent for a moment. 
“I’m on my way.”
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ridethehammett · 5 months
Text
favorite quotes from my favorite rockstars!!
(that i yell around my house)
“your fucking band sucks!” -chris fehn, slipknot
“we got caught jerking off.” -krist novoselic, nirvana
“light em up!” -sid wilson, slipknot
“it’s a song…and we wrote it! 😃 no, um—” -jonathan davis, korn
(referring to craig) “look at him, do you wanna talk to him? i don’t wanna talk to him and i’m in a band with him.” -corey taylor, slipknot
“but you know wanna know what? i said i’m madonna, and i can do anything, okay?” -sebastian bach, skid row
“it’s not a tv studio…josh! turn these lights out! it’s a fucking rock concert!” eddie vedder, pearl jam
“hey, ugly. hey, BITCH.” -layne staley, alice in chains
“and i’ve been bugginaboutfletsomandjetsam for a long time.” -jason newsted, metallica
*silence* “…you can’t prove that.” -sean kinney, alice in chains
“👹WE DON’T WANNA TALK TO METALLICA.👹” lars ulrich, metallica
“WHERE’S THE SWIMMING POOL AT? 🗣️” -kirk hammett, metallica
“THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS DOING HERE RIGHT NOW GOD DAMN IT!?” -kirk hammett, metallica
“which metallica member is the most pregnant?” -lars ulrich, metallica
“everybody from underneath the stage gonna be lookin’ at my NUTS.” -jonathan davis, korn
“hope i choke on a crepe. hm, hope you choke on a dick.” *struggles to end the video* -dave mustaine, megadeth
“HAAAHAAAHAAAA! 🗣️” -fred durst, limp bizkit
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carolmunson · 7 months
Text
it's like sugar sometimes.
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(older!modern!dad!eddie)
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welcome back to the: orange colored sky setlist a/n: this can be read as a stand alone, give or take some references. but as a pre-cursor: you and eddie are about twelve years apart, meeting in late twenties early thirties, his late thirties early forties. you're deeply in love and we're fast forwarding a bit and now you have a kid. shout out to my nephew because without countless videos of him being the same age as the baby in this fic i would not now how babies baby. cw: pure fluff. pure dad eddie goodness. pretty tame. some mild arguing and swearing. some saucy kisses at the end. a new entry for the fall frenzy extravaganza. this fall frenzy is in honor of @jo-harrington who said i could do whatever, so here we are lmao.
songspiration: how sweet it is (to be loved by you) | james taylor
The ride to the orchard is going much better than you were expecting after such a rough morning. Tears from the moment Gwen came into your room just before four in the morning because she had a bad dream. Then it was too hot for her in bed with both of you, then she was too cold, then Ed’s snoring kept you both awake until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. Then there was the kicking and stretching and rolling around. Aren’t they supposed to sleep like logs? She just turned three. Ed woke up refreshed, frowning when he turned over to see you sitting up against the headboard reading with puffy tired eyes. “Hey,” he says softly as to not wake Gwen who was curled up into his side, “She come in last night?” “Another bad dream,” you shrug, looking at him over your book, “I don’t know if she’s really having them or if she’s just starting to have a little regression period. Maybe we can get her a new night light or something.” “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep for a little and I’ll get her ready,” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep, “I’ll just take her into the shower with me.” You smile lazily at him and nod, looking over at the clock on his night stand – a little past six. Maybe an extra forty-five would do you some good before you went to the orchards upstate. Gwen’s eyes open up to her dad awake, her face contorting when she sees him. “Had a bad dweam,” she sniffles, reaching her arms out. “Poor Gwen, you had a bad dream?” Eddie coos, pulling her up out of bed with him, “Tell me all about it, angel.” Her babbles echo down the hall even after Ed closes the door behind them.
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Piercing sobs woke you up instead of your alarm, though that went off right after to remind you that there’s a whole day you have to start. You rub your eyes and groan, sliding out of bed and stepping into your slippers. You grab your robe, shrugging it on as you leave the bedroom and wincing while another cry pours out of your toddler and goes straight to your chest. “I know, honey, I know,” you hear Eddie soothe, “But we’re gonna go do something so fun. You wanna go pick a pumpkin, right?” “No pumpki-i-in,” she sobs, deep and guttural. You open the door to her room slowly, a very teary Gwen stands in the corner, hair wet in a new set of pajamas. You look at Eddie, pulling out an outfit for her and laying it on her toddler bed. “What’s goin’ on, in here?” you ask gently. “Gwen doesn’t wanna get dressed to go apple picking,” Eddie says quietly, “She wants to watch Blue’s Clues.” “Wan’ see Bl-blue, mommy,” she sobs, “Pwease.” “Hey, hey,” you try your best to settle her, “Thank you for saying please, honey. We can still see Blue but daddy has to get you dressed first.” “Did she eat?” you ask, pulling Gwen up to your hip while she cries into your shoulder. “Yeah, she had some mini waffles and a banana,” he opens her closet and fishes out a tiny pair of Chuck’s to go with her outfit – a little black sweatshirt screen printed with the Halloween movie poster paired with a set of leggings meant to look like jeans. “Did you eat?” you smile, coming over to him to plant a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, her leftovers,” he laughs, “There’s a cup of coffee waiting for you on the counter.” “Thank you,” you nudge him, feeling Gwen squirm and whine while she tries to shimmy down from your hip, “Okay, okay.” “Gwen, please,” Eddie begs with a twinge of frustration in his voice when she makes it to the door, on her tiptoes to reach the handle, “Let’s just get you dressed and you can watch Blue’s Clues while we do your hair.” She stomps, wet curls bouncing with her when she does, “Wanna watch now, pwease!” “Thank you for asking nicely Gwen, but that doesn’t always mean you get your way,” he explains. She shrieks, loud enough that your eyes squint, stomping again onto the fluffy white carpet below her, “I wanna watch Blue’s Cwue’s!” “Why don’t you take a deep breath for me, huh?” Eddie asks her, he pats your lower back on the way to the door. A silent way of letting you know to just go get yourself ready, he can handle the rest, “Do we need to take a time out?” “No time out,” she starts to cry again when you slip out of the room. More frustrated whines and wails boom down the hall, dissipating while you make it down the metal staircase to the coffee on the counter. Your heart swells when you notice that he already emptied and reloaded the dishwasher. 
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After you’ve packed some snacks for later and gotten yourself dressed, you make your way back upstairs. You approach the bathroom with your coffee in hand, Gwen’s sippy cup full of water in the other. Her bubbly squeals respond back to whoever is talking to her, barely looking up from Eddie’s phone to look at you when you open the door. 
“Who’re you talking to, miss girl?” you ask, putting her sippy cup next to her on the bathroom counter. “Steeb,” she says, eyes glued to the screen, much happier than she was before. “She’s watching 90s Blue’s Clues?” you laugh at your husband who’s busy splitting her Gwen’s hair into a middle part, looking in the mirror that she’s sat in front of. “No, she’s FaceTiming with Steve,” he shakes his head, pulling one section back into a high pigtail. “Hi peach!” Steve’s voice rings from the phone, he lowers it back down to parentese to address Gwen, “Is that mommy? Can you say hi to her for me?”  “Steeb say hi,” Gwen says, lifting the phone up, showing the screen to the ceiling of the bathroom. You take the phone for a second, seeing Steve’s annoyed face in the frame. 
“You’re on thin ice,” he says, his fiancee’s laugh ringing out of frame, “I can’t believe you’re going this week when we’ll be there in two. You always go before we come to visit.” “There will be plenty of apple picking trips to do together when we move, I promise,” you assure, “She starts gymnastics and swimming next weekend, we won’t have another time to do it.” 
“Gymnastics?” he asks, “Does she have tights? Leotards? What can I get her?” 
“She has like, I don’t know Steve – forty leotards? She’s gonna grow out of half of them in six weeks,” you explain, “Don’t worry, your husband got it covered.” Eddie snickers, wrapping an elastic around one of the ponytails in his fingers. “Well if she’s gonna grow out of them then she’ll need more,” he scoffs, “I’ll get some sent over.” 
“You’re impossible,” your eye roll is something Steve is just as used to as Eddie is. Gwen whines again, reaching for the phone with grabby hands, a quiet ‘Steeby’ escaping her. “I can hear her asking for me, gimme back to my girl,” he sighs. You hand the phone back to Gwen who giggles when Steve makes a funny face at her through the screen. “Look how pretty those ponytails are. Daddy did such a good job,” Steve coos at her. “We payin’ be-yoo-dee sawon,” Gwen explains. Eddie looks up at you, whispering ‘Can you grab her bows for me?’ You nod, reaching into the bottom drawer to snatch a basket full of bows, holding them out to him while he picks. 
“Beauty salon,” Eddie corrects softly, “Orange or black bows?”  “Bwack,” she says, waving him off like you do when you’re busy, “I’m on da phone, daddy.” “Yeah,” you say, meeting her sass, “She’s on the phone, daddy.”
He lets a ‘pfff’ push out of his lips while he grabs two black bows from last halloween, little sparkly spider webs parked in the center. You leave them to it, heading down to get the car packed up and make sure you have Gwen’s bag set up before you leave. 
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Despite the dramatics, the ride is going well. Gwen happily eats an apple sauce packet in her carseat while the two of you sip on coffees and eat breakfast sandwiches from a drive thru off the highway. It’s nice to get out of the city for a while and get Gwen used to the idea of not being in it anymore. The drive consists mostly of James Taylor’s greatest hits because Gwen is her Grandpa Wayne’s baby before she’s anyone else’s. She hums along to Carolina and sings only the chorus of Mexico. Her favorite song is Mockingbird even though it’s Carly Simon featuring James Taylor. The two of you throw it on the record player every other day to sing it to her, even if she doesn’t ask for it. It’s selfishly your favorite song, too, just ‘cause you get to see your husband play along with you. “And if that better way ain't so, I'll ride with the tide and go with the flow, And that's why, I keep on shoutin' in your ear, Saying (yeah, yeah) whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-oh.” You lean your head back on the passenger’s side to make eye contact with Gwen through the visor mirror who giggles back at you. She mimics your ‘whoa-whoa-whoa’, shimmying in her carseat with her shoulders. Gwen’s no stranger to shimmying, always finding some way to dance off beat to Ed’s music when he plays at a venue she can be at or practices at home. His number one fan. 
“Oh-wange twees, mommy,” Gwen says, tiny finger pointing out the window at the foliage lining the road. “I see them, aren’t they pretty Gwen?” you nod back at her. Eddie’s head turns slightly to watch her watch the trees, eyes shining at each change of color hits her. His heart beats a little quicker knowing she’s able to make those distinctions between orange, red, and yellow – too smart, getting too big. “Daddy’s git-tah,” she yelps, pointing hard at a tree covered in dark red leaves while Eddie slowly turns down the entrance of the orchard. Gwen lets out a tiny ‘woah’ when the car jostles that makes him laugh, he wishes she’d stay this little forever. “Yeah, that’s the same color as daddy’s guitar, good job sweetheart,” he smiles back at her, “Are you ready to pick some apples so we can make Uncle Stevie a pie for when he visits?” “Ya!” She nods, happy and excited. She doesn’t know what he said, but whenever he talks to her with a smile she’ll do whatever he asks and vice versa. Still ‘sort of rockstar’, definitely ‘meant to be father’. Parking is less of a nightmare than expected since it’s early in the day – most families come after the first morning nap, at least that’s what the mom groups told you on Facebook. Gwen hardly naps anymore, but you won’t be surprised if she knocks out earlier than usual tonight. Eddie gets the backpack full of Gwen’s essentials and you grab the baby. “I have to carry you through the parking lot, babe,” you say when she starts to bounce in your arms, eager to run on the grass in her sneakers. “Wanna walk, please,” she begs, her hands on your cheeks while you make your way towards the entrance. “You can walk when we get inside but there’s lots of cars out here and no stop lights,” you say, batting her hand out of your hair when she reaches for it, “I’ll put you down in a little bit.” “You think we should take the stroller?” Ed asks from the trunk. “They have wagons, we can just pull her around,” you shrug, “I don’t think the back up stroller is good for this kind of place, we’d need the one at home.” Eddie shrugs, joining you on your walk to the entrance to get your empty bag and your wagon, putting Gwen at the back as you get to the trees. “Walk, please,” she begs again. You hesitate, it’s just too big of a place and she’s a runner, “Honey, I would love it if you–” “Let her walk,” Eddie says, “She’ll get bored after a few minutes and wanna watch anyway, just let her walk.” “Come here Gwen, hold my hand,” he says, offering a tattooed hand to her pudgy one. She clumsily crawls out of the wagon, bouncing over to her dad to put her hand in his. He pulls her up once, making her squeal and giggle as she floats next to him. “More, more!” she laughs, letting Eddie swing her ahead a few more times while you all make your way through the trees. 
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She likes apple picking more than you expected, arms up constantly to be lifted onto the branches to grab some off of every few trees. Gwen had a good eye, better than you and Eddie, for super crisp ones – pointing up and jumping to get at them. If she was a little bigger you wouldn’t be surprised if she climbed up the trees with the ease of a jungle cat. Your husband encouraged it, climbing up the branches like he was still twenty – sitting with his legs dangling off and having you pass your toddler to him. “Please be careful,” you warn, passing her up to him. “Babe, I know what I’m doing,” he scowls, a hint annoyed before changing his expression for Gwen when he helps her onto the low branch with him. “You don’t have to be a jerk, I just want her to be safe,” you snap back. “And I’m keeping her safe,” he says with a smile as to keep your daughter none-the-wiser. Still looking at Gwen while she reaches for another apple. She hands it to Eddie who hands it to you, your fingers brush. “Sorry,” he says, looking down at you, “I’ll be careful. We’re not very high, but you’re right. I’ll be careful.” “Thank you,” you nod, taking the apple and pressing a ghost of a kiss to his knuckles. He blushes red, red, red. Red like the leaves, red like his guitar. “Why s’pink, daddy?” Gwen asks, passing him another apple. “I just love mommy very much, honey,” he smiles, pressing a kiss into her hair, “She makes me turn pink like a heart.” “Like on da phone,” she says, clinging to him like a koala when he slides down off the low branch with her. “Yes, like on the phone,” he nods. You’re not Peach 🍑 in his phone anymore. You’re The Wife 💗. Right now he’s Gwen’s Dad in your phone because you got in an argument two months ago and haven’t changed it back to Rockstar Husband 🎸❣️because ‘Gwen’s Dad’ makes you laugh too much. He hates it. “How you like them apples, G?” you ask when Eddie puts her down in the wagon, she looks up at you confused and shrugs; brown curly pigtails bouncing at she does. “Kids today,” you shake your head at Eddie while you press onward, “No culture.” 
“No culture,” he agrees enthusiastically. 
You peruse, the bags you bought are filled to the brim with apples. Some red, some green, a few yellow so Gwen can try them and see if she likes them. It’s a calming walk, the chatter of other families, the squeaky roll of the wagon, the rustle of the trees when the early autumn wind catches them. Eddie holds your hand loosely, always needing to keep touching you in some way, always wanting to keep you close to him. You look back, Gwen going between looking around at the other families and playing with her V-Tech phone. Eddie goes from walking slow to speeding up to make the wagon jostle just to hear Gwen’s giggles peal through the trees. After about an hour of walking and picking, you’re about as pooped as your toddler should be. Once you get to the tree line you see the farm and market down at the base of the hill, a little relieved that you’ve all made it to the end of the road unscathed. 
That is, until Gwen climbs out of the wagon when it comes to a stop and without warning, books it towards the edge. 
“Gwendolyn Rose!” Eddie’s call is rough and loud out of fear, but it sounds like anger. Gwen stops short, startled, falling backwards onto the seat of her leggings. Like clockwork the first whine starts, building up into a needy, sad wail. You know they’re crocodile tears so you keep your pace with the wagon behind you. Your husband however, despite the constant reminder that she knows he’s easy, rushes forward without a second thought. “Oh no, my baby girl, shh, shh. I’m sorry,” he coos, reaching down to hoist her up onto his hip, “I didn’t mean to yell, sugar. You just got daddy scared is all. I’m not mad.” Gwen wipes her face, pushing away tears that never fell, sniffling and hiding her face in his neck. He rubs her back while she settles, guilt tugging on the lines between his brows. 
“No baby girl,” Gwen pouts, “I’m big girl.” 
“Oh that’s right, you’re my big girl,” Eddie grins, kissing her cheek. She’s not amused, frowning down at him while she pushes up against his shoulder to squirm out of his hold. “That’s a very grumpy face, Gwenny,” you giggle.  “Hey, are you mad at me?” he asks up at her before popping her back down onto her feet at the edge of the tree line, “Why’re you lookin’ so mad?” 
“I’m big,” she announces, little foot stomping on the grass below her. Eddie lets a sigh out through his nose and kneels down to her level. She takes several deep breaths and you both know it’s the beginning of what could be a very long second tantrum of the day. “I know, you’re a very big girl,” he nods, “But what do mommy and daddy say you have to do when we don’t have you in the stroller?” “Hode hands,” she repeats back in a whine. “That’s right, we hold hands – and if we’re not holding your hand you’re supposed to stay close, right?” He watches her nod, tucking a finger under her chin to make sure she’s absorbing what he’s saying. Her lower lip juts out, cheeks puffing while her shoulders sulk. “I walk by - by mysewf,” she urges, sniffling, “Pwease.” “Not today, sugar. I’m sorry,” he sighs, cupping her cheek in his palm, “I have a fun idea, do you wanna get on daddy’s shoulders and you can tell us how far we are from the farm?” She brightens up a little, giggling when he reaches down to tickle her sides before scooping her up to lift over his shoulders. He groans the way old men groan when they lift something and you stifle a laugh, smiling up at Gwen when she smiles down at you. “Hi mommy,” she beams, waving her tiny hand.  “Hi baby,” wave back lazily, the shoddy sleep you had last night starting to settle into your eyes. “Do you see the farm, Gwenny?” Eddie asks, she nods enthusiastically, “Maybe we can go get you a donut, how does that sound? Will that make you happy?”
“Ed,” you click your tongue, “She’s never gonna get to sleep later.” “We’re making memories, babe,” Eddie says, reaching up to hold Gwen’s hands to keep her steady, “Some extra sugar won’t hurt her.” 
“Yeah, you love extra sugar, don’t you?” you laugh. 
“Matter of fact, I do,” he smirks, shooting you a wink. He laughs when he sees two of those twelve foot Home Depot skeletons posed outside the front of the market, promoting their haunted hayride with signs and other silly decor, “Shit, that’s fuckin’ metal – s’ridiculous.” 
“S’dic-yoo-liss,” Gwen repeats. “S’ridiculous, Gwennifer!” Eddie repeats back in concurrence. “Sss’tick-you-luss,” she bounces, laughing when he laughs. They have the same one, though his has years on hers, gruff with age, with cigarette stains. 
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Pumpkins get picked, warm donuts devoured, the morning finally feels like it’s coming to a close. You park Gwen down at a picnic table while Eddie goes to get the goods, hanging out with your threenager who can barely keep her eyes open. You’re thankful you still have the wagon because there was no way you’d be able to carry all of it back to the car. Caramel apples, cider donuts, three gallons of apple cider, honey sticks, pumpkin pie, and anything else Eddie thought was good enough to bring home for the season weight heavy in the brown paper bags in his arms. He comes back sheepishly, biting his lower lip when you look at the bags and then at him. 
“Hm,” you hum pointedly. 
“I just really like fall flavors, peach,” he shrugs, “And the old lady at the front was so sweet telling me about the deals I couldn’t not get everything.” “You’re such a sucker,” you laugh with a roll of your eyes, “You ready to head out?” He nods, ticking his forehead at Gwen whose cheek is smushed against your chest, eyelashes brushing the tops of her cheeks, “Looks like this pumpkin’s ready to go.” 
“She’s out,” you say softly, brushing her hair away from her face, “Lasted five minutes on my lap.” 
“Let me get a picture to send to Steve,” he says low enough that it doesn’t wake her, “The background is perfect.” “Ed you have a thousand pictures of her from today,” you complain. “Shh, shh, come on,” he smiles, taking out his phone – you know he’s only snapping Gwen by the way he lowers the camera to your lap. He puts the bags in the wagon while you slowly stand with her wrapped around your front. You wait at the entrance for him to pull the car around, leaving the wagon behind. She doesn’t wake up when you pop her back in the car seat, slowly rolling out of the parking lot with the rest of the afternoon in your wake. 
“I got her a little gourd painting kit, somewhere in those bags,” he says, “She can make some decorations.”  “Oh she’ll love that,” you nod, peeking at her sleeping face in the visor mirror again, “I’ll do it with her before dinner.”
He pulls in slowly at a stop sign, hand reaching out to snake into yours, pulling it to his lips to bless you with soft kisses on the back of your hand.
“Thanks for such a good day, baby,” he murmurs.
“You’re very welcome.” 
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Later on, just before dinner, Eddie hears a tiny knock on his office door paired with two giggles from his favorite girls. 
“Yes?” he calls out. The door creeps open and he hears you whisper, ‘Ask ‘Are you busy, daddy?’ 
“You busy, daddy?” Gwen pipes up. He shuts his computer, moving away from the two additional screens. “No, honey, never too busy for you,” he smiles, creases by his eyes showing up through his glasses, “Do you have something to show me?” 
“Yeah,” she nods, pulling on your hand to pull you into the room. He uses the same candles he always has, deep spice, like his cologne. Warm like the way he holds you. Still in his hunter green Dickie’s overalls from this morning. 
You give Gwen her little pumpkin that she painted to present to her dad, beaming with excitement while he looks it over. 
“Such a good job, Gwenny,” he coos, “Are these –” 
“I did bats,” she grins, finger touching the sparkly black sort of bats adorning the outside. Covered in glitter and sequins, falling onto his office floor. 
“You did bats? For Halloween?” he asks. You shake your head no, smiling big when Gwen goes on to explain. 
“No cause, daddy, cause you have bats,” she hurriedly explains, “Issa daddy pum-kin.” She reaches to his left arm, pointing at the bat tattoos on the inside when he was a kid. She runs her finger over them, “See, bats like daddy.” 
“That’s so sweet, honey,” he coos, “Is it for me?” “Yeah,” she squeaks, “For here.” “For your office,” you say for her, trying not to giggle when his eyes shine with tears. She could give him a piece of trash and he’d cry over it, “‘Cause you have so many Halloween decorations in here.” He laughs, looking around at all the tour posters he has from bands he’s seen over the years – to a three year old they probably are a little scary. “And what did you say it was when you were done, Gwen?” you ask, “What did you say daddy would think the pumpkin was?” “Fucking med-oh,” she giggles. “Oh my god,” he sighs, thumb and forefinger immediately going to temples. “Fucking metal,” you repeat back him, knowingly, “Wonder where she got that.”
He tries not to laugh when he looks down at Gwen, “Don’t say that word, baby, that’s a bad word.” “Sowwy,” she whispers. “It’s okay, you didn’t know,” he grins, pulling her in to kiss her all over. She shrieks the way babies shriek when they’re excited and runs out of the office toward her bedroom at the end of the hall. You turn to go after her before feeling Eddie’s hand on your shoulder. “Hey,” he says quietly in your ear, you shiver, “Remember when you said I like a little extra sugar?” 
Your cheeks burn hot, turning to him, “I do.” He leans in slow, lips capturing yours in a way that they only do when you both get to be alone, “Don’t forget to keep givin’ me some.” “I won’t,” you murmur back, letting him kiss you deeply one more time before pressing a slow kiss to your favorite place under the hinge of your jaw, “You’re bold, Munson.” He shrugs, breaking away, “Needed somethin’ sweet.” 
As if he isn't sweet enough. Eddie spends the rest of the night looking up ways to preserve a painted gourd. 
masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi
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ghost-proofbaby · 7 months
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EARLY MORNING (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)
summary: new routines are formed between you and eddie, and a code-word is formed for the bad days.
warnings: fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), mentions of financial struggles, mentions of weed, eddie is just having a rough time (just like me fr)
wc: 2k+
the full menu
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Eddie doesn’t process he’s not the only one in the parking lot until your palm is smacking against his window.
He had been too wrapped up in his music he currently has blaring, the heavy bass and guitar riffs of For Whom The Bell Tolls shaking his van’s foundation as he let his eyes close for just a second. He wasn’t sleeping — he wishes he was sleeping. It was early, still four something in the morning, and he had hardly slept at all the night before. 
That slap of your hand against glass startles him, breaking whatever trance he had put himself under.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, blinking drearily as he rolls the window down and reaches to turn down the music, glaring at the image of you standing there with your arms crossed like a mother rearing up for a scolding, “Can’t a man have some relaxing alone time with Metallica before he slaves away for the siren?” 
Your demeanor cracks a bit, corners of your lips twitching to expose your amusement. You’d taught him that ridiculous joke — slaving away to the siren. That sly grin you were currently biting down on is the same one you wore when he’d been scolded for saying it in front of management.
“Dude, I could hear your music from across the parking lot. There’s nothing relaxing about it.”
Dude. He pretends like he won’t overthink that term, tries to focus on the endearment behind it rather than the sinking feeling in his gut. It’s hard to do that when you look so damn pretty, though. Bare faced, hair messily styled for the shift ahead of you two, those staple black jeans that always drags his jaw along the floors. 
“Shut up,” he doesn’t even have to ask, already leaning over to unlock his passenger door before you’ve started the journey around the front of the van. It’s a normal routine at this point for the two of you to sit in either his van or your Jeep together before opening. Enjoying a moment of silence with each other before you spend the next five hours and some change navigating the chaos that is the morning rush. Once you’re planted in the seat beside him, door securely shut and a shit-eating grin you don’t try to hide, he finally continues, “It’s relaxing to me. Not all of us start our day with that Taylor Swift shit.” 
Your grin widens, and so does the cavern in his heart that strangely resembles the shape of you, “You secretly love that Taylor Swift shit, don’t lie.” 
And you’re right. Of course you’re right, but for all the wrong reasons.
He loves it because you love it.
“I believe company policy is we can lie until we’ve had our first shot of espresso,” he grumbles, still trying to act unimpressed as he crosses his arms and shuffles deeper into his seat. He pinches his eyes back shut, this time just to avoid staring at you.
His mind and heart alike can’t take the way you look in the lavender dusk that still lingers in the parking lot, the soft light filtering through his van’s windshield. 
Metallica continues to play in the background, much lower than it was previously to your arrival. He’s content to sit here, the sweetness of your perfume hanging heavy in the air and just knowing your presence exists beside him now. To hear your breathing if he focuses hard enough. To listen for if you begin to pilfer through his glove box, to listen if you begin to tap along to any melodies on your knees. Small things. Things you don’t think about, and things that occupy his mind in a suffocating fashion. They have for the last several months now; you’ve managed to occupy his mind quite consistently, even on his days off. If he’s given a day of leisure, all he can do is consider what you’re doing. If he’s scheduled a shift without you, all he does is compare the other baristas to you. It’s poisonous. It spells out trouble. 
But in this moment, it more so whispers comfort. He knows there’s nearly thirty minutes until the key holder for the morning will arrive, and he lets himself lean into it. For the first time in nearly twenty four hours, sleep and rest alike are gunning for him with ease.
He’s got one foot in the door of falling asleep when you break the silence, “Hey, can I ask you something?” 
“You just di-“ 
“Shut up,” you huff, and he cracks open an eye, “I just… Okay, you can tell me to fuck off if you want.”
That catches his attention. Both eyes are wide open now, boring into yours. 
“Well?” he hums. You’re nervous. And it’s cute, and it’s normal. These moments are always quiet between the two of you. He hardly even remembers how this first became the normal routine for you two, but he’s grateful. He looks forward to it so much that his mind has spent the last two weeks trying to formulate ways to extend the tradition to after your shifts together to finally solidify that offer of friendship he’d accepted so long ago, “Don’t just leave me hanging in anticipation, babe.” 
The nickname rolls off his tongue with no effort. It’s different — with other coworkers, with customers, with everyone. He hasn’t picked up the habit of dropping nicknames with these strangers, but he has with you.
You, who has coined him as dude. Again, he tries to not overthink it.
“Have you not been sleeping well?” you blurt out, starting to fidget with the edge of your shirt and not looking up at him, “I just- I’ve noticed you’ve been more tired this last week, and I get it — we’re all always tired in the morning. I mean, it’s early as fuck. But I just noticed you’ve been more quiet and you’ve got these bags under your eyes and you’ve been sneaking more cold brew shots and-“ 
You don’t take a single breath as you rattle off your list of observations, seemingly petrified to reveal to Eddie that you see him. You notice him. 
It’s an unfamiliar feeling; to know someone has a watchful eye on you and, furthermore, cares about the changes they pick up on. 
Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever experienced it before. Or the warmth that floods his chest.
“Oh, hey,” he finally sits up. Your mouth is still moving, ready to continue on, “Hey, sweetheart.”
His hand reaches out and lands on your knee. It effectively leaves both of you speechless. 
“I…” How does he tell you? How can he best reveal the truth? 
I am tired. I’m not sleeping well. Bills are piling up and life is kind of shitty right now, and nothing really makes sense. Except you. You make sense, by some odd chance. You make it better.
“I’ve just had a lot of trouble sleeping recently. Don’t worry about me so much,” he settles on instead, the only words not too heavy to force out of his mouth. 
His hand is still on your knee. 
And suddenly, your hand comes down over his hand, palm a few degrees cooler than his own knuckles. 
“I’m sorry,” you say, “That… that doesn’t help, but it sucks and I’m sorry. And if I can help in any way… just say the word.”
The word — what is the word? He wishes he knew it. He’d blurt it out in a heartbeat. 
His hand squeezes your knee, and in sync, your fingers return the gesture to the top of his hand. 
It’d just been a lot, recently. He’s tried to take some of the burden off of Wayne at home, he’d been looking into taking night classes at the community college back in Hawkins, he’d been considering a second job to help claw their way out of the current sea of debt they were drowning in. He was always in his head, he was having nightmares when he’d try to get to bed at a decent time. Panic attacks were occurring that even the weed couldn’t take the edge off. Questions of his future, questions of his worthiness of the people in his life — they’d all started to haunt the quiet corners of his room in the middle of the night. 
But they didn’t haunt these roads, this parking lot, this time spent with you. You’d enter his line of sight, and it all just shuts off.
“Is everything okay at home?” you gently press at his silence, eyes flickering up at him for only a moment before a finger mindlessly traces over one of his rings. 
No. “It’s… fine.” 
Last night, he’d nearly put a hole in the wall before he’d settled to curling into the center of his mattress until his knees and chest were familiar companions. Until the tears he’d tried to ignore turned into silent sobs and he’d eventually cried himself to sleep a mere hour before he needed to be awake again for work. 
“Just say the word,” you repeat yourself. He wants you to look at him again; it’s easier to breathe with your eyes on his, “Say the word, and… Fuck, I don’t know. We can both call out, just take a nap in the back of your shitty van.” 
And oh, he smiles at that. The thought of the two of you in the back of his shitty van, as you had so lovingly called it. He thinks if you two did that, he might just sleep well for the first time in weeks.
“We’re already here,” he shrugs and finally lifts his hand, patting at your jeans before he entirely retracts his touch. He tries to not ponder on the falter of your own hand, the way you had hesitated in letting him pull away, “But, for future reference, what is the word?” 
“Huh?”
“The word. What’s our code word for… just saying fuck it and taking a day for ourselves,” he explains. 
He hopes he isn’t overstepping a boundary. He hopes you weren’t just being polite.
You smile softly this time, something genuine shining through as you think for a minute before looking at him. This time, your gaze doesn’t falter as you whisper, “Mordor.” 
He can’t help it, he snorts. “Mordor? Have you even read Lord of the Rings?” 
“Nope,” you shake your head, still focused on him, still encouraging the air to enter his lungs finally and not even knowing it, “But I saw your copy on the back desk. Maybe that can be one of our fuck it activities — you read it to me or something. Make me into a nerd.” 
That imagery gets to him. Nearly makes him tear up. You and him, in the back of his van, your head on his chest as he reads his favorite book to you. He nearly screams mordor right then and there. He knows he’s getting ahead of himself, and that’s probably not what you meant, but he wants it. With each passing day that he spends around you, he finds himself wanting things like that more and more. 
You treat him differently than everyone else. You don’t climb into the car of the other openers, you don’t seem to let that painfully polite guard down with everyone else in the same fashion. Even Nicole had noticed it.
“She’s awfully soft for you,” she’d commented one morning as Eddie and her had been left alone as you went to the back to clean dishes before the store was open, “Out of all the people she could’ve gone mushy for, it’s you. Can’t figure out why for the life of me.”
He couldn’t either. But your tenderness you'd extended so easily to him fuels him, makes him yearn for it when you’re not around, makes him think maybe there’s a bigger reason for all of it. Or maybe, that’s just what friends are for.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer one of these days,” Eddie finally muses, leaning his head back and trying to smile with the same type of softness you offer him. Tries to make sure you know it goes both ways. Tries to communicate the fact that one of these days might just come sooner than either of you expect.
Your smile tells him the message is well received.
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strangerhottotties · 9 months
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Mad Sounds - Part 2 - E.M.
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Part 1
Summaries: You get Eddie's assignments back for the week and you have a meeting in his van to discuss...
Warnings: Horny shit. Minors fuck off. Mentions of masturbation, slight voyeurism, slight heavy petting and VERY brief grinding.
A/N: Just on my whore shit. I'm finally evening out after coming off birth control so the engine's warming for the first time all year. I share this with you at your own risk. My husband, ever my cheerleader picked out Eddie's test scores for the first couple weeks. Please enjoy.
Special thank you to my bestie who edited this and gave music recommendations: Taylor Swift's 'I Can See You' and 'Dress'.
All week Eddie hovered over you, never was he more than five minutes late to a study session. His newfound eagerness to study had turned more than a few heads. But ever the attention whore, he had turned his audience to you exclusively as much as he possibly could.
Every visit to your locker to retrieve books, he was right there to smile at you brazenly, eyes sliding over your form. It thrilled you. You had an incentive that no one else had ever offered, it fed your confidence. Eddie, ever the flirt, always held doors open for you, now insisted on being as gentlemanly as he possibly could.
All week he's been flashing a crisp red folder at you. Every time you see it, a tingle begins beneath your skin. The flat cardstock you always expect to warp, but the only distortion was the exaggerated hand drawn font across the front. Inside contained every assignment he'd received a grade for this week.
When the final bell rings on Friday afternoon, you make your way to your locker. Your eyes draw up towards your locker and catch a glimpse of Eddie leaning against the set of your lockers. He's a constant in the flow of bodies eager to leave the premises. His eyes as you approach are downright insidious, utterly wicked as he notices you. He fans himself that red folder.
"Hey, Honey," he hums, smile twisting with false sweetness like he was made of Aspartame. "I do hope you're prepared to pay up. I worked hard for these grades."
There were only three classes you were tutoring him in. The remaining classes he needed to graduate. Mr. Allen's Chemistry, Mrs. O'Donnel's Advanced Algebra, and Mr. Jones's Government class.
Thankfully your blush is minimal as you stop in front of the blocked lockers. "Hand 'em over," you hum, holding out your hand. He passes the folder into your hands and you're a little surprised by just how thick it feels in your hand.
He pushes off the wall and leans in close enough to your ear to taunt you that you can feel the heat of his breath fan across your cheek. "I even did the extra credit in Chem." You quirk an eyebrow at him as he holds you in an intense stare just inches from your face. You try to suppress your smile as you adjust the books in your arms to give it your full attention.
It'd be a lie to say that you weren't utterly feverish to discover exactly how good. How many times you thought of him tucked under you comforter at night, aching for his promises that he made last Friday. Aching to know how he tasted, what those talented fingers could do, and how much eagerly he wanted to touch you. Late nights filled with desperate, muffled whines for him. Keeping quiet as you squirm in the dark, wishing for the relief that his skin would give you, craving giving him anything he needed, being by Eddie Munson. 
He seemed pretty excited. "Extra credit, who are you and what have you done with Eddie?" You tease softly, your smile turning demure. Eddie's shoulders roll back as he tilts his head to the side, modeling his pretty neck for you. It reminds you of a brightly colored bird.
"What can I say, I really like my tutor." The hallways are beginning to clear as you flip open the folder and smile at the top page. His government test with a big, fat 'B-' on the top right corner. You flit your eyes over to his, where they burn with a darkness. He blows you a playful kiss.
"This is excellent Eddie!" You flip through his next couple assignments. "Two 'C's, a 'C+', 'B-', and a 'B', Extra credit..."
"I got full credit for it, does that count as an 'A+'." You flush as you consider. It certainly shouldn't go unrewarded if you wanted to encourage it. You draw out your consideration and his eyes light up with eagerness.
"I don't think this warrants that kind of reward," you answer honestly and he deflates, until you follow up with a... "but..." his head snaps up at that, "I kind of had a surprise for you."
"A surprise?" He asks. "Don't leave me in suspense, sweetheart." You glance around at the lingering student body.
"Can we go out to your van first?" You ask him quietly. His face goes blank and he snatches your hand to pull you towards the front doors. "Wait, wait, wait, Eddie!" you call and he halts as you dig the heels of your shoes into the tiled floor to yank him to a halt.
"What?"
"Let me get my bag first. It's in there." Eddie grins and turns around to sweep his hands at your locker. You smile and turn to open your locker, Eddie hanging over your shoulder.
"Do I get a hint?" he hums, but before you can answer, someone shouts his name from down the hall.
"Eddie, c'mon, what are you standing around for? We've got to set up!" You glance down the hall at Gareth and Jeff. Gareth is throwing his hands up in the air.
"Hold on!" He shouts and then turns his attention back to you.
"Do you need to go?"
"No, not even hellfire is getting between me and this surprise," he grins.
"Oh, you guys moved it to Friday?"
"Yeah, I figured we can tweak our schedule tomorrow. I can pick you up-"
"Hey, Eddie!" You giggle at the second interruption of the conversation. Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler's little brother, are jogging up to the irate metalhead. Eddie's mouth presses into a thin line as he regards the kids.
"What is it?" He sighs,
"What's up your ass?" Mike scoffs. You bite your lip to hold your laugh as you start filing through what books you'll need for weekend homework.
"Conversation, A," he points to himself, "B," he points to you, "see your way out of it!" You drag your bag out of your locker and close it. You hit him with an unimpressed look.
"Well, we wanted to ask," Dustin starts, "but I don't think we've been introduced. I'm Dustin, this is Mike." He holds his hand out with a toothy grin. You take his hand, shaking it with an introduction as Eddie slips up next to you.
"We're in Hellfire with Eddie and it's supposed to start in like, five minutes, would you like to join?" You blink with surprise.
"Oh, I don't know how to play D'n'D." You reply evenly. Eddie clears his throat softly.
"I could teach you," he offers, regarding you with playful eyes.
"Totally, it's actually super fun! It's based on strategy and there's a ton of different ways to play!" Mike encourages and receives a harsh look from the senior standing beside you. Eddie was being possessive of you, wanting your singular attention.
"Look, whatever this is..." He gestures between the two of them. "Lose it. I'll be in there. Give me... fifteen minutes?" He confirms with you.
"Be nice," you instruct him flatly before turning towards the two kids. "But fifteen minutes should do it." He rolls his eyes at the kids and grabs your hand to start dragging you away.
"Who'd have thought Eddie's girlfriend would be so nice?"
"Girlfriend?" You repeat in surprise to Eddie exclusively when he comes to a full stop at the word. The kids are walking away and thankfully don't hear your question.
"I never told them you were my girlfriend," he immediately discloses to you. You roll your eyes at him and continue you on, tugging at his hand but admiring the pretty blush that fans his cheeks.
"Come on, sweetiepea," you tease and he laughs awkwardly as you are both trotting into the parking lot.
"But, um," he rumbles in a far more sober tone, he pulls you to a stop, facing you directly. "I want to take you out." You tense as he says this.
"Oh." You sigh and glance around as you think. You shift on your feet as he tilts his face to the side. "You do?" You ask.
Eddie gives an awkward chuckle. "You don't?" He prompts. You teeter on your toes for a moment.
"I think it's more complicated than that, Eddie," you tell him softly, "but I'm... open to talking about it." He wets his lips and steps closer, eyes sliding across your eyes.
"Honey," he hums, "You don't have to go out with me, but... answer me this," he uses the knuckle of his free hand to nudge your chin up a bit, "Do you want... me?"
The air smells earthy. A contradiction in itself as dead leaves skirt across the asphalt of the draining parking lot. Eddie was washing his vulnerability across your skin with the trial of his voice. It was braver than you had any right to enjoy, but after a moment of thought you feel the need to meet him on that level, to share in that vulnerability so it wouldn't be quite so scary.
Your free hand drifts across his jean vest, taking in the coarse fabric as you reach for the collar. You grasp it firmly before pulling him closer to you. You breathe deeply before sighing out, "Yes."
It's simple as he nods. "That's so stupid of you," he responds with a nervous smile.
"Only if you make it so," you reply with a warning and he breathes shakily. You release him by the collar and continue pulling him to his van. He rushes to get to the passenger side for you, swinging the door open. "Thank you," you chirp and climb in. He trots around to the other side and slides into the driver's seat.
There is a heavy moment of silence as you glance at each other. "So, when I had you teach me something," you start as he twists to face you in the seat, "I wanted to model the studying after how you teach. I figure that's the easiest way for you to learn."
Eddie's eyebrows tilt up. "What was your conclusion?"
"Kinesthetic mostly," he gives you a crumpled look. "Hands on. You need to be apart of it, to tinker."
"How do you learn?"
"Writing and visually. The four main groups are kinesthetic, writing, visual, and audio. You are more audio and kinesthetic, if you're learning to play songs by ear." He tilts his head at you with interest. "So, that being said, you've responded the best so far to... motivation and you get distracted when your bored so I was worried that the motivation might get boring for you."
Eddie barks a laugh at you, eyes glittering. "Jeez, your brain is like a supercomputer, I swear." Your face twists at that and you bite your lip as Eddie's smile fades. "Hey, it's a compliment. I swear," he urges.
"I..." you start and fade off.
Eddie takes a deep frustrated breath and looks out at the parking lot. "I know I try to get under your skin," he starts, "but I hate it when you make that face. It kind of makes me sick to my stomach. It's not as fun as I expect it to be. So what did I say, that's the second time now."
You fiddle with the strap on your bag for a moment, fighting the tears away. "'I’m not a robot, Eddie. I have emotions and thoughts and... I don't always get... what's said in between the words. Logic is easier... that doesn't make me less human." A hand skirts across to brace on your knee and your stomach jumps.
"If anything," he coaxes, "it makes you superhuman. Better than the rest of us." You spare a glance over at him and find soulful, brown eyes glittering at you. "I've never met anyone who just... understands. I watch and I see, but you, you watch and you understand. I see the gears turning in your head all of the time. I wish I had that setting."
"It's not a setting, it's all the time. I can't just switch it off. My brain never stops." Eddie smiles at you, eyes crinkling with empathy.
"I think I understand that better than most. It's like fighting nature itself. Never a quiet moment." You nod at him, sighing out with some relief that he understood. He could conceptualize how you operated.
"Exactly."
Eddie's smile widens. "So, do I still get my surprise?"
It's your turn to smile at the way he defuses your tension. "Of course," you reply as he gives you a gentle squeeze of your thigh. You draw the cardboard out of your bag to reveal a spinning dial, expertly color coded. You present it to him as he laughs. "We could fill in with little things that if you're sick of my cookies or something you can spin for a possible change."
"I get to pick things out?" He chirps.
"Sure, as long as we both agree." Eddie grins maliciously and his fingers pinch the tender skin on the inside of your thigh, making you squeak and swat at his hand. His eyes widen.
"Are you ticklish?" He rumbles playfully.
"Eddie, you've got like five more minutes..." you warn sternly, pushing his hand away with an embarrassed glare. He pouts and leans in towards your face, eyes lit up like a cat that's noticed a mouse.
"Okay, okay... is that long enough for me to get the reward for my 'B-'?" Your cheeks flush further and you glance into the back of his van. That could be secluded enough you think.
"Okay," you hum softly and his eyebrows raise with delight.
"Really?"
"Mhmm." You nod your head towards the back of his van and he darts, snatching your hand to pull you after him.
"Please tell me I can unwrap you like a present," he begs and the way he asks makes your knees tremble enough that you wobble and stumble down on them after you've barely made it past the front seats. Eddie's eyes go wide as he tries to soften your fall.
"Ah, sorry!" You chirp, a little frazzled as you attempt to give him an embarrassed smile.
His grin etched across his face, full of salacious cues. "What, that get you excited, pretty girl?"
Your cheeks flare with heat as your brain sparks out and he must see it written on your face because his laugh is out right evil. He's corrosive to your steely exterior and there was nothing you could do to stop that. The only thing rotating through your head was Eddie's voice saying pretty girl on repeat.
Was that really all it took to fry your circuits?
"Uh-huh," fell from your mouth before you could stop it.
Eddie's face freezes, too as you cave into him. It was an excellent example of just how easy you were to bend under the right circumstances. Eddie swallows before giving you a possibly nervous laugh and kneeling down with you.
"I-I mean... shit," you say, hands covering your face in horror. Your nervous break has Eddie grinning and pulling your hands away from your mouth. "I didn't... mean to-to say that-that." You squeeze your eyes shut and your lip wobbles because the repeating words begin.
Eddie sets your palms down in your lap as he gives you a chuckle, wetting his lips. "I think I could use a little more of your honesty," he rasps and your breath hitches as he reaches for your waist, untucking your shirt and sweater with a wiggling motion from where they are secured in the waistband of your jeans.
You don't trust yourself to speak, not when he's staring right at you with those endless eyes. He's barely (technically not even) touching you and your chest is expanding deeper and deeper with each breath.
If you could only see inside his head, every ounce of delicate nervousness would be washed away. Every conscious moment had you. He felt like he was fourteen all over again, springing erections at the very smell of you or the curl of your shy smiles, the ones that had lingering of heat at the edges. The idea of you giving yourself over to him so easily.
If it had been any other girl, he'd have been excited, sure. He was twenty and a pretty girl offering her services as a reward would have simply been a brag. But it was you. You who had seemed so immune to his ridiculous boyish crush for years. You who had been impervious to every flirt he'd attempted throughout the years. You who was smarter than anyone he'd ever met. You who didn't give a shit if you were a cheerleader or if you were dating a jock. You who'd actually had a sense of justice. You... who offered yourself to him ooohhh so sweetly in his bedroom after a tearfilled confession.
It was torture.
He'd had to fuck his fist three times after you left that night just to be able to get rid of the ever-returning erection. Hell, you'd given him more than enough to work with.
"Fuck," he groans as he peels the sweater up over your head and you happily help but lifting your arms. "You don't even know how hot you look right now."
It makes you whimper.
Eddie freezes as he stares at you, his own chest rising and falling heavily. His fingers tremble as they work your buttons loose. The sounds of shaky breathing and the soft press of fabric sliding on fabric is filling the inside of the enclosed space. It's a little too stuffy in here but that makes your heart pound harder as his fingers glide gently over the skin of your shoulders.
It hitches your breath, the heat of his palms as he pushes the open blouse off your shoulders. Your brain, as if to prove your earlier conversation wrong, melts in the heat of the moment until you can't think. Those eyes scorch your skin as he takes in the silky hold of your breasts. He hooks his index fingers through the straps and drags them slowly down, savoring unwrapping you.
"Jesus Christ," he mutters, face crumbling in distress as you feel the fabric flip under your breasts. His face is twisted as his eyes take a moment to dart up to yours. He opens his mouth to say something, but all that falls out is another soft, "Jesus Christ."
He looks closer to tears than you've ever seen. It's what drives you to lift up onto your knees and push closer, cupping his head in your hands. He's so close you can feel his damp breath breeze across your breasts. His hands rise to cradle your waist, sliding up you until with a jerk you're in his lap and gasping.
Your sternum collides a bit with his forehead as his hands start to creep upward. You smack his hands and he jerks away to stare at you like a kicked puppy. It almost works.
"What?"
"'B+'," you reply. "You... you've earned the right to... see them, and to... a picture, but you-you haven't earned feeling them," you whisper, voice already fighting to come out. Eddie's gaze softens and he nods obediently.
"Look so good," he sighs. "So good." There is a mutual understanding, the dangling that if he really wanted to, he could. He was inches away from his fingers gliding up to caress you in the way you ached for. Barely a breath away from scooping up your nipple with his tongue to taste. “Did you touch yourself to the thought of my rewards?” He asks, fingers dancing sweetly over your waist again.
A shuddering sigh leaves you and you swallow the saliva building in your mouth. Your thumbs trace his cheek bones. “Every night since you offered to touch me,” you manage on the edge of a sigh, cheeks deepening with color. Your eyes float up to gauge his reaction, flutter with the desire to turn away. His fingers tighten and knead the skin of your waist.
His mouth goes slack with want, eyes boring into yours. “I love your honesty. You’re being so good,” he praises softly.
It felt kind of torturous but as he adjusts you feel something nudge your center and your eyes snap down to the shape at the front of his pants. "He doesn't lie, you know," he promises you.
"No?" You find yourself smiling with mild amusement. "It's not like Pinocchio?" Eddie grins nearly drunkenly at your poor joke.
"The polar opposite... save for being woody," he rumbles back and juts his chin in your direction. He's staring at your mouth, his hands finding purchase on your hips, thumbs rubbing little circles over your skin, sending tingles down your legs.
You sink curiously down into his lap and his eyes seal shut with a rather deep intake of his breath. Your heart is hammering at the sight as you feel yourself pulse against him. As he breathes out his eyes hood at you, mouth tilting towards yours.
You lean back with your shoulders, just barely out of reach of his kiss. A taunted groan rumbles in his chest. "No?" He hums.
You wet your lips, a demure smile spreading across your mouth as you shake your head at him. You find yourself biting your lower lips to keep you grounded.
"What do I have to do to earn that then?" He asks.
"Add it to the-the wheel?" You offer and his smile is stretching affectionately across his face. He sighs softly.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Eddie! You better get your ass out here!" Gareth roars as you're both scrambling in the back of the van.
Eddie launches you onto your back beside him as he scrambles up to the driver's seat and rolls the manual window down. It nearly knocks the adrenaline out of you as he grumbles about 'these friends cockblocking him'.
"What the fuck is your problem?" Eddie snarls as you're sliding your straps back in place and searching for your blouse.
"My problem? Dude, get out here! We're ready to start our campaign and you said 'fifteen minutes' twenty... two minutes ago."
"Gareth," Eddie seethes as you button the front of your shirt, not bothering with all of them before scrambling to put your sweater on.
"No- Eddie, get the fuck out here? What's more important than-" but then you're making contact with Gareth as you're tucking in your shirt, hair still tucked into both aspects of clothing. Eddie glances in the rear view mirror as you flush with embarrassment.
"Shit," Eddie sighs.
"You're really boning the valedictorian?" Gareth demands.
"No!" Eddie snaps. "We're not boning, okay?"
"Really?" His friend scoffs. "Just get in here!"
With that, Eddie gives a frustrated groan and rolls the window up, Gareth already left your slot of the window. When he twists around you give him a little wicked giggle that makes his eyebrows creep up his face.
"You think that's funny?" He accuses, eyes glinting as you giggle uncontrollably harder, hand covering your mouth as you shake your head at him. "Are you sure?" He teases creeping closer to you. Your giggles are getting more wicked until he's moving fast and you're all but tackled to the floor of his van.
Eddie pins your hands to the carpet, hovering directly in your face. "You better get your ass inside," you hum, "your subjects are waiting."
"But you see, there's one more nefarious thing that I must do."
"What's tha-ahmpf!" Eddie's mouth is on yours before you can finish your question, eyes widening as he intertwines your fingers. That heat you were feeling starts flooding your body back.
He's straddling you, and yet somehow his weight isn't enough. He's not resting against the one place you need it. But your mouth parts to mimic his hesitantly, regardless of your lower protests. You copy him, gasping quietly into his mouth, before he pulls back.
He sits back then, grinning down at you on the floor below him, flushed and pouting. "Had to steal a kiss from the princess in secret," he jokes, "don't pout, I'll earn my next one."
"I... want another one," you murmur and his eyes light up like a kid on Christmas. His warm laughter bounces off the walls of the van.
"Next time, we've got to go," he chirps and pulls you up.
"Do I... look decent?" You ask untucking your hair and fluttering your hands over it, hoping it's not too obvious what you were doing in the back of the van.
"You look stunning," he urges with a wink and climbs up front.
More pounding startles you from the wall of the van.
"Not what I meant and you know it!" You hiss but he opens the passenger door and you both file out. You snag your bag from the front seat, leaving the unfinished wheel on the passenger seat instead.
"Oh, and Eddie," you call, turning towards the two boys, you fish your hand into the front pocket of your bag. "For that 'B'... and the extra credit." His eyes widen as you draw two polaroids out of your bag. You'd prepared six... just in case. Six you thought looked good. There were more among the ash in your fireplace at home that were awkward angles (close to twenty more).
You can't look as you draw them out, too indecisive on which ones he'd like. He's in front of you like an obedient dog in an instant, taking them like it's gospel. 
"You were walking around all day with these in your locker?" He demands as Gareth tries to peek only to be met with a literal pushy Eddie. You grin, flushed deep pink, surely. His gaze goes gummy with heat again, melting under your soft seduction that you’re beginning to lean into. He was nothing but putty to your soft and genuine admiration of him. You’re finding how responsive he is to the warm and sticky center that he’s managed to find in the maze of your steel barricade.
"Bye, Eddie." You hum, thrilled with surprising and delighting him. 
"Bye, Honey," Eddie teases back, dazed as you turn on heel.
"Have fun with your board game club," you toss back and manage to get Gareth to snort. Eddie's eyes narrow on your own form retreating towards your car.
"What's that?" You hear his friend demand.
"I'll take your hand off. You’re not looking." You smile to yourself, stealing glances over your shoulder as the boys roughhouse.
Your first kiss stolen with the most delicious thievery you’ve ever tasted; the ghosting memory enchants your lips. You can still feel the heat of his calloused hands drifting over your thrumming skin. The scent of him, wearing on the day, still clinging to you as you settle into your car.
Again, I'm not doing a taglist for this currently. If you want to follow this short series hit the follow and turn on notifications.
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rustedhearts · 8 months
Text
the incident ♡ part iii (boxer!steve x fem!librarian reader)
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summary: broken and blue, steve comes after you in an attempt to right his wrongs. but there's no coming back from what he's done this time.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ the king of the ring ✶ part i, part ii ✶ main masterlist
tags: angst, hurt/no comfort lol, breakup, talk of domestic violence-ish, violence.
recommended listening: my tears ricochet — taylor swift
malibu california, november 1992. the munson residence.
"I know she's here, Munson. Let me the fuck in."
Steve Harrington had never seemed so unhinged. In the past twenty-four hours since you fled your home and locked yourself in the Munson Mansion, Steve had done nothing but panic. He watched the rear end of his Mustang disappear down the road into a blur; and while he tried to run after you, even he knew he was no match for the speed of his own car.
So, he paced the floors. He stamped the space of the entryway for what felt like hours, shaking flashes of the incident that just occurred from his mind as they came to him in pieces. But as he paced, watching only his feet move and the floor fade away, the hole in the plaster in his periphery haunted him. His own violence, in all its tangible and terrific glory, taunted him.
Before he knew it, he was in tears and tearing up the place. His hands were raw and shaking like bad mufflers by the time the house became unrecognizable. His limbs wobbled with the delicacy of a newborn fawn just learning to stand on its own. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. The world around him shrunk down to mouse size, and the air grew short. All he could hear were your cries in his ear, sharp and heartbreaking.
He wasn't sure how long he sat in the midst of the rubble, weeping over shattered picture frames and torn pillows. Like a bad dog with sharp teeth, he always nipped when he got scared. He just wished he never pointed his bite at you.
Steve never slept. He spent the night cleaning his own mess, doing his best to steady his hands and see through the streaks of his own tears. His chest hurt from the harshness of his own breathing: heaving huffs that turned to hyperventilations. And it seemed, as shards of glass fluttered into the garbage bin, and ripped photographs collected in the pieces, that your relationship sat in there with them. At the bottom of the garbage, torn apart by his hands.
Steve knew there was only one place you'd go if it wasn't home, and there was no way you'd have gotten to Hawkins in one night. There was only once place you could go—only two other people you knew that weren't paired to Steve through obligation. In the back of his mind, tapping on the cracking glass of his subconscious, Steve felt a pang of guilt for what he knew was his doing. Your isolation had his signature scrawled across it.
Now, here he stood: at the doorstep of his longest friend, begging to be let in. His countenance drawn and drooped with fatigue and nausea, the skin beneath his eyes sagged with exhaustion.
But worst of all: his breath held the potency of whiskey, and it wasn't even nine o'clock in the morning.
"Oh, the man of the fucking hour. Hey, Harrington, how does it feel to be smacked around?—"
"Eddie, please," Steve huffed, hands cupping the doorframe at his sides.
Eddie's arms folded over his chest, eyes narrowing into hardened slits. "How 'bout we ask your girl, huh? She'd know, wouldn't she?"
Steve swallowed, throat thickened with guilt and bile. A hand left the solidity of the house to rise to his eyes, rubbing at the bulbous ache behind his lid.
"N-no, that's not—I didn't—"
Eddie dropped his arms to his sides, lunging forward until he could see the pupils of his friend's eyes, blown wide. The whites held red spindles, the corners crusted with sleep. But Eddie couldn't bother to worry about kicking a man when he was down—Steve didn't get to play wounded puppy when he loved being an attack dog.
"You didn't what?" Eddie hissed.
Steve's silence aggravated the rage Eddie was attempting to keep at bay. How dare he appear demanding things with that pathetic look in his eye? Did he know his girlfriend spent the night crying and sporting his handiwork, so conditioned to muttering excuses and defenses?
"Huh?" Eddie pressed, chin jutting forward. "You didn't shove her around? You didn't rough her up? You didn't put your hands on her, you fucking coward—"
"No!"
Eddie felt the solid muscle of Steve's chest beneath his palm before he realized what he was doing. Steve shuffled backward, stumbling down the front steps and losing his footing in the unexpected commotion.
"You fucking liar. I saw the bruises!"
Steve pushed himself off his palms, collecting himself from the ground. "It's none of your fucking business—"
Eddie's finger soared toward the house behind him. "The minute she showed up here, it became my business. And had it been my business weeks—Christ, fuckin' months ago—I would've had your ass on a stretcher far before you managed to do what you've done."
At the mention of violence, the one thing he could swallow and stomach and understand, it was as though Steve was woken from his zombie-like stupor. Chest puffing in size, shoulders rearing back and squaring off, the boxer stepped forward and glared into Eddie's eye.
"I'd like to see you fuckin' try. You're always too coked out to even know where you are, Munson."
A barking laugh shot from Eddie's mouth, sharp and cruel. "Oh-hoh-hoh, always the tough guy, huh? Did it make you feel tough shovin' her around?"
Steve's fingers curled into fists, the flashes of shattered plaster and his fist beside your head haunting his head again. He could feel that trembling ache congregating in his chest again, ready to pop like a balloon. His temper always swelled before it burst. It always made such an unforgiving mess.
"Shut the fuck up."
"Did you feel tough making her cry? Putting her down?"
Though merely an inch existed between them, Eddie seemed to tower over Steve. The rockstar glared down at his friend over the end of his nose, lifted his chin to add some height.
"Stop." More trembling gathered in Steve's fists, and he hated the shudder that crept down his spine when he thought of the way you looked when you left your home.
Were the bruises you excused with clumsiness all from him?
"Do you feel like a man, Steve? Do you feel like a man just like your daddy?"
"Fuck you!"
Steve instantly regretted the moment the bone of his knuckles pooled with pain against the impact of Eddie's cheek. It dripped over him like hot blood, and though he wished only to apologize and rid his friend of the split skin reddened and weeping on his face, all Steve could manage to do was go for another one. All he knew how to do was keep fighting.
Except, now that the first punch was thrown, Eddie felt vindicated in returning his own. The men clambered toward each other, a mess of flying hands and scuffling feet across the pavement. Curses strewn between teeth shot between them like bullets, though cruelly nonsensical and unintelligible.
"I'll fuckin' kill you, you fucking prick," Eddie growled once he had Steve on the ground, hulking with new strength and the upper-hand of unbridled rage.
From the open doorway, feet bare and cheeks sticky, you came running at full force with only an unnerved Stella to follow. Unsuspecting, Eddie easily toppled to the side with your urgent shove, freeing Steve from his pinned state on the driveway. He instantly moved to retaliate, fist reaching for the rockstar—but your hands grabbed for his shirt and shoved him back.
"Get up, you fucking asshole. Get up!"
With your pulling and his eagerness to reach you, Steve stumbled to his feet. His wrath sizzled to a simmer, now distracted by your swollen eyes and wet cheeks.
"Oh, baby—" He moved to step toward you, but you held a hand out to stop him, colliding with his chest where his t-shirt had been torn in the commotion.
Eddie retreated back toward Stella, still visibly rattling with the rage he had yet to release, though attempting to calm under her soothing hands. Both men were equally torn up, but you could no longer stand to listen to their fighting from the floor above. You just wanted Steve out of here.
"Here, take your fuckin' keys. Take them and get out!"
You threw the keys at him; they pinged against his forehead and fell to the ground with a jingling clatter. Inhaling deeply, Steve took another step forward, returning to that wounded puppy pout.
"Baby, please, just let me—"
"Go!" Another shove to his chest, this one with all you could muster.
It sent him stumbling back again. When he made no move to collect the keys and take his Mustang, you lunged forward and gave another shove. If he wouldn't leave, you'd have to make him. But through all your pushing, the tears sprouted up again. Gasping for air, face twisted with more tears, eyes stinging and chest aching, you pounded your fists into his chest and wept.
"Go, go—just go! You ruin everything! Just go! I hate you, I hate you!"
You felt like a little girl, wailing and stamping your foot and pounding on the door to be freed from some cruel trick. This man was supposed to love you, but all he's done is harm.
Under your futile and gradually-weakening hits, wet with tear splotches and his own blood, Steve felt himself crumbling. In that moment, his anger fled from him as easily as the cold, leaving him with a hole the size of your fist in his heart. The vision of your anguished face blurred with the appearance of his own tears, and Steve collected your trembling fists by the wrists to hold them away.
"Just g-go," you cried, twisting from his hold—disgusted by its delicacy, because the feeling of it had become so unfamiliar.
Eddie stomped over, snatching the keys from the ground behind the pair of you only to slam them into Steve's chest with a heavy fist. "You heard her."
Steve stumbled back again, collecting the keys before they could fall when Eddie let go. With a gentle arm, Eddie scooped you behind him, placing himself as a barrier between your body and Steve's. Steve could hear your weeping even behind the interference. Numbly, he trudged toward the Mustang, fingers unsteady around the keys.
He sat in the driver seat and watched you curl into Stella's arms, drenching her in a stream of tears that seemed delirious and hysterical. He barely managed to fit the key into the engine with all his trembling, and when the engine roared to life, all Steve wanted to do was run to you and accept more of your hits so long as it meant he could be near you.
But Stella took you inside. And Eddie stood in front of the door like a watchdog, waiting for Steve to disappear like you all wanted him to.
With only the tenderness of your fists still beating against his chest, and the ache he'd always have for you throbbing in his heart, Steve put the car in reverse, and drove away.
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tawaifeddiediaz · 1 month
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something about the diaz home as a symbol of everything sacred to eddie.
something about the diaz home representing eddie's privacy and his life and by extension, christopher's, and that it's a constant, recurring motif of a life that he's built with his son. and it's always interesting to see that his home is always warm (in terms of lighting, color combos, etc etc) and welcoming, which feels so vastly different to the other two homes we've seen for him in eddie begins
something about the way he has to physically open the door to let people in to his life, and how many shots of that we've had of just him opening the damned door since. something about the way he physically lets shannon in in 2x07, or the way he braces himself with chris' encouragement before opening the door to ana in 4x08, or the way he happily lets carla in in 4x13 or the way he softens and smiles when he opens the door to buck in 6x12. it's in the way the only people we've really seen in eddie's home as "not guests" are the ones that he chooses to let in.
in that same vein, we can always tell when there's someone in there that doesn't quite belong. 5x11 is a prime example of this, and not just because of the episode title, "outside looking in." it's evidently obvious that the only reason taylor's in his house is for buck's sake, and maybe that's why we never see eddie actually letting them in. 5x03 is similar to that, in the sense that ana stays for three days with chris at the diaz home, but when eddie comes back, it's a metaphorical and physical mess that he's left standing in the middle of, alone.
and it's very, very interesting that we've never seen his parents in his house. ever. and yes, it could just be the fact that they rarely come to los angeles period, but i just think it's interesting in terms of eddie's journey with them, that the closest we've gotten to them physically being there is that facetime call with his dad, and that phone call with his mom - both of which happen after he goes back to texas in 5x17 where he point-blank tells his dad he's trying to be better for himself, and his dad meets him halfway. it only happens after his relationship with his dad starts improving.
i just constantly think of the diaz home front door, and now that i've thought of it, there's so many other moments that scream at me:
buck unlocking eddie's door in 4x14 and swinging it open to the party, and then later standing in the open doorway almost like he's protecting eddie and the life he's built in this one way because he couldn't protect him in the other way
buck unlocking eddie's door with his own key in 5x13, then bursting through yet another door to get to eddie, just to step in and sit with him in his grief - and how much that scene symbolizes that eddie may have built this life but it was after burying demons that later just crawled up through the cracks of his new home.
buck standing inside the diaz home after eddie gets home from therapy in 5x14 like this is a regular occurrence.
the way eddie's discomfort is visible in that split second scene we get of the police officers storming his home in 2x15
eddie asking shannon to leave through the back door because he may have let her into his life but he's not ready to let her into chris' and thus, he doesn't truly let her into his life - and actually, even the shot of eddie, chris and shannon at the end of that episode takes place outside the diaz home. which is...telling methinks.
eddie opening his door post-date in 4x07 to buck meeting him at it (always meeting him halfway), and just. the domesticity of it, set off by the warm lights, the discussion they have, and the looks on their faces the whole like
eddie opening his door to buck in 6x12, looking apprehensive for a second before he realizes who it is and his smile grows and eyes turn into heart-eyes and buck just pushes past him without waiting for eddie to step aside, only to go and swing his feet up on the coffee table like the diaz home is his, too.
there's so many examples but @sevensoulmates and i put this whole meta together because the symbolism in this tv show is off the charts
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uglypastels · 19 days
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The Boy is Mine (Z's edition) // e.m.
a/n—guess who's baaaaack. Yeah, I didn't expect it either, but a long and lonely day and some scrolling through this hell site made me stumble upon a few posts that actually made me excited to write again, so here I am.
This fic is a part of @carolmunson's blurb challenge. I had so much fun writing this, and thank you so much, Carol, for sparking that inspiration back in me.
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word count: 2.4k
warning: a LOT of fluff. Eddie and reader being menaces towards each other. teasing. playfighting. slight spanking. innuendos and suggestive talk. Swearing. possibly rusty writing as this i haven't written anything in months (i think that's it??)
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He was sunshine, I was midnight rain -Midnight Rain, Taylor Swift
The downpour came completely out of nowhere as if someone up in the heavens was throwing buckets and buckets of ice-cold water at the same pace. The entire morning had been a perfect summer’s day, bright and sunny, warming up the ground underneath you, toasting all rooms and cars. It’s what made you want to go out in the first place. You had enough of sitting on the couch every weekend and practically dragged Eddie out of the house by the sleeve of his baggy sweatshirt. 
Now he was the one hauling you back inside, both of you looking like a pair of drenched cats. 
‘I swear to God, if you don’t get your ass over here right this second!’ He shouted through the rain, his hair sticking to his face, water dripping down onto the floorboards of the trailer. He just ran inside, holding an arm out to keep the door open. 
‘I’m coming.’ you said, with none of the urgency that Eddie held in his tone. The rain, while cold, felt nice and refreshing against your face. Taking a deep breath in, you let the summer night air fill your lungs, almost forgetting about your impatient boyfriend who was standing waiting for you on the threshold. He called out your name, but you weren’t listening.
‘I’m serious, sweetheart,’ Eddie leaned against the doorframe, growing tired as he watched you twirl around in the rain. ‘If you don’t stop and come inside right this second, we’re gonna have a problem.’ 
‘I really doubt it,’ you shouted back, making another turn on your heels as the rain caught your cheeks. You couldn’t quite explain what made you act like this, but it was a freeing feeling to just stand outside and let Mother Nature weep her sweet, sweet tears.
‘Oh yeah, and why’s that?’ Eddie challenged, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. 
‘Because you’re too much of a pussy to come outside and get wet again.’ It was a known fact that Eddie hated rain or water in any form, really, touching him. If there was a way for a person to take dry showers, he would be the first in line to try them. There was something truly unexplainable about him but truly endearing, so who could blame you if you poked fun at the way he groaned when he couldn’t dry himself off properly after a swim or moaned about his hair being a mess?  
Even from the distance of the driveway and the gloomy twilight as the sun set, you could see the blank stare he was sending your way; that are you shitting me right now glare only he could provide so casually and yet charmingly. 
You poked your tongue out teasingly at him as you twirled around once more, arms spread wide open to receive another bucket load of rain on top of you. 
‘C’mon, you’re gonna get sick!’ your boyfriend made another attempt at getting you inside, but if you were one thing, it was stubborn. All spun out, you leaned against the hood of his van. Perhaps a bit too provocative, with your chest forward, as you took deep breaths. You weren’t sure how soaked through your shirt was yet and if the water made the material see-through, although, seeming from Eddie’s reaction, it just might have been. You had closed your eyes but dared to shoot a glance up at him briefly and just about caught him cursing to himself. 
You had spent most of the day driving around, stopping here and there to grab something to eat, but it had been right as you decided to stroll past Lover’s Lake that the clouds formed above your heads, and the rain started to fall. Eddie, ever the romantic, ran back to the van like a startled alley cat, quickly disappearing into his comfortably, dry enclosure, and he had run just as quickly back into the trailer once you got there. Overall, besides his hair, he suffered minor damage. His clothes were already nearly fully dry again, but the rain had only gotten worse since then, and there was no way he would—
Your boyfriend cursed again, shaking his head in amusement, as he pulled his sweater over his head and threw it behind him to the ground. You knew as soon as he made that one step past the threshold. You were fucked. 
‘Don’t you dare,’ he said the second he saw you hesitantly step back. Ironically, his threat spurred you on to keep moving, and before you knew it, the two of you were making laps around the car through the muddy ground. 
‘C’mhere you,’ Eddie said, and despite your best efforts, you both knew it was inevitable that he would eventually catch up to you. You shrieked out as your feet suddenly left the ground, and you were hoisted up over his shoulder. 
‘Eddie!’ you hit him on the back, getting bumped up and down as he walked proudly to the trailer door. ‘Put me down!’ 
‘Just so you can run away again? No way, princess,’ he chuckled, adjusting his grip on you, making you bounce around even more. His hand rested on the back of your bare thigh, the shorts you were wearing that day doing a not-so-tremendous job of covering you up. God, the walk up to the trailer had never felt that long.
‘Edmund Lorenzo Munson,’ you stated, ‘put me down– ahh!’ you squealed as you felt the sharp snap of his hand against your ass. ‘You did not just do that!’
‘You bet I did,’ and to prove his point, he did again, this time a little harder. ‘I told you it would only mean trouble for you if you stayed out there.’
‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ you rolled your eyes just in time before he put you back on the ground. The trailer was warm from a long, sunny day, and the usual ambience of the clock above the TV was overruled by the harsh tap-tap-tapping of the rain on the roof. 
‘Oh, I’m dramatic,’ Eddie scoffed, ‘says Miss Let-me-run-around-in-the-rain-until-I-catch-pneumonia.’
‘Ok, first of all,' you held up a finger. ‘That’s not even true. I was out there for about five minutes, so don’t be like that. Second,’ you pointed up a second digit. 'That was dramatic. And third…’ You had finally let yourself look down at his naked, rain-soaked chest. ‘Actually, never mind.’
‘No, no, finish your thought, princess.’ His arms twisted around your waist, swaying the two of you from side to side. His lips were stretched in a wicked grin. Perhaps you were making him forget the state he was in and that he was, in fact, supposed to be mad at you, at least a little bit.
‘You know what, I suddenly forgot what I wanted to say.’ You shrugged and slipped out of his hold, reaching the couch. Once sat, you had the perfect view of your boyfriend, who stood towering over you in nothing but his ripped jeans, arms now crossed as he shook his head in disbelief. His rain-kissed skin was shimmering in the room's low light, and his hair was once again drenched, with curls still dripping water onto his shoulders.
‘Why am I not surprised by that,’ Eddie’s smile persisted as he looked you up and down, a line of worry crossing his brows. ‘I’ll get you some dry clothes.’ And with that, he turned around but did not even take three steps before a small pillow hit the small of his back. But Eddie, accustomed to your hijinks as well as you were to his, barely flinched and affectionately put up his middle finger. 
‘Love you too!’ you shouted after him, already peeling off your shirt. Now that you were inside, the room's warmth started tingling your body, and the dampness of your clothes felt suffocating. Not that you would ever admit to the goosebumps rising on your arms—no, not to Eddie, at least.
A few seconds later, Eddie returned wearing a black t-shirt and sweatpants and holding a stack of fresh clothes for you. He threw them at you one by one, but with some effort, you caught everything despite his terrible aim. You then considered throwing your wet clothes back at him, but the poor boy had suffered enough, so you quickly got dressed. In the meantime, Eddie headed over to the kitchen, looking for something in the cupboards.
‘I was going to suggest making something to drink to warm us up,’ he answered before you even got the opportunity to ask, ‘but it seems I run out of, like, nice cups.’ Nice,  in this case, really just meaning “clean”. He looked around some cupboards while you walked up to him, wrapping yourself around him and looking over his arm at the pile of dishes.
‘There, I used that one this morning.’ You pointed at a mug that had once been clearly hand-painted by a kindergarten Eddie. The wonky blots of colour almost matched the inside, which was stained with coffee remnants from that morning.
Eddie picked it up, hesitating, ‘you sure?’
‘Yesh, of course, just rinse it off, you dork.’
While Eddie got busy making what you hoped would be hot chocolate, you busied yourself by looking through the other cupboards for something to eat. ‘Do you have anything sweet in here?’ You were still looking around the shelves when Eddie pulled your chin in his direction and pecked a kiss onto your lips. 
‘I meant more like cookies or something, but thank you.’
‘Yeah, I think we got a pack of those iced biscuits around here somewhere.’ Indeed, on top of the highest shelf, which he knew you wouldn’t be able to reach, there was an unopened pack of sugar-vanilla-icing-coated cookies. By the time Eddie handed you your mug of hot chocolate, you had already eaten two, dipping your third one in the drink. Knowing Eddie, he would have already poured in some colder milk for you, leaving you with no need to be hesitant on your first sip. The beverage warmed you up from the inside, and you couldn’t help but let out a satisfied sigh of relief. 
‘What?’ you looked up at Eddie, feeling his gaze on you, but as soon as you addressed him, his eyes focused on his own drink.
‘Nothing.’ He leaned casually against the counter.
‘No, no, you were clearly thinking something so just spill it out.’
He made you wait by taking one long sip of his hot chocolate (extra cinnamon). He leaned forward to grab a cookie, but you quickly pulled them away, knowing he was trying to prolong your wait for an answer. 
‘Fine,’ he smiled, ‘I was just thinking that you’re so fucking cute when you’re stubborn.’
‘Try again, loverboy,’ you replied, unimpressed. 
‘It’s true!’
‘It’s not, and we both know it,’ you glared at him with narrowed eyes. ‘So just tell me.’ 
‘It was, actually,’ he stole the cookies back from you, taking one. His eyes never left yours as he scraped the sugary vanilla icing off the top with his teeth. You both tried keeping a serious face, but that was simply never an option for the two of you. It was just the question of who was first to break. 
You kept looking at him with your unimpressed and unconvinced look, trying hard to push back the smile, much like he was most likely. 
‘Ok fine,’ he bit into the biscuit. ‘I was just thinking, I can’t believe that you even make your biscuits wet. Like, that is actually horrid.’
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ You laughed, exasperated, finally cracking down on your serious look. ‘Eddie? Seriously?’
‘Yes! I mean, look at it,’ He pointed at the cookie you just pulled out of your drink. Half of it was darker as it soaked up the liquid, the icing slightly melting off, too. ‘It’s all soggy and gross, and you like that?’ 
‘You need to get yourself checked out, Munchie.’ You bit into the “soggy and gross” biscuit, enjoying the chocolatey infusion of the baked good. 
‘Very funny.’ He slurped his hot chocolate until he drained the last sips out of the mug and placed it down on the counter, nearly pushing off a stack of plates. You weren’t far behind him, finishing your own drink and placing the dish back as well. The two of you were shuffling around the small kitchen space, manoeuvring past each other until you wrapped your arms around him, engulfing him in a tight embrace. Eddie kissed the top of your head as you murmured a sweet “thank you”.
‘For what?’ He asked. 
‘For everything.’ You said against his chest. ‘Taking me out today, the hot chocolate, making sure I don’t die from pneumonia.’
‘Well, it’s still early.’ He corrected your last point, and you let your teeth grace over his chest, nipping him lightly. 
‘Ow!’ he laughed through his shock and pain. ‘Did you just bite me?’
‘No.’ You said, mouth right against the fabric of his shirt. 
‘No,’ Eddie mimicked your mumbling, pressing his face against your hair. ‘God, you’re so annoying.’
‘Am not!’ you gasped. ‘You are.’ 
‘I am?’ He raised his brow, and stupidly, you agreed.
‘Yes.’
‘Ok, fine.’ and so, you were up in the air again. ‘I’ll show you just how annoying I can be.’ With you over his shoulder once more, he brought you into his bedroom, dropping you into free fall down onto the mattress. You bounced as the springs creaked underneath. 
The room was a mess, and you had to push an abundance of random objects off the bed as you made your way to the top of it. Shirts, underwear, folders, guitar picks, pencils and books all fell to the ground. Eddie got onto the mattress, too, falling to his knees upon it and slowly making his way to you. You were all too aware of his tactics, knowing he was trying to take the slow approach to tease you. So, instead, you tried to make yourself a bit more comfortable, propping up the pillows for a better headrest. Picking one up, you noticed the little brown notebook lying there. 
‘Dear Diary,  God, Harrington is so hot. I swear I just want to take his big fat—’ You started making up things as you flipped the pages, but before you could read into any of the actual lyrics or campaign ideas that Eddie had jotted down, he ripped the notebook out of your hands and threw it across the room, falling somewhere onto his desk into a pile of cassettes. 
‘I hate you.’ He said with a smile, his hair now tickling your cheeks as it dangled down in semi-wet strands. 
‘Hate you more.’ You pulled him in by the collar, kissing him passionately, continuing your chaotic yet perfect day until the late hours of the night.
the end.
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my own analysis on the challenge - i feel like "my Eddie" is different each time I write him, even when writing for no particular au, but I usually I do try to make him a little bit goofy and awkward, always in on the joke and hyper and just.. .cute, ya know haha. I also always love to add in random ideas about him, so that's how we get hydrophobic!eds here, but he's also totally got a major sweet tooth, and yes, his middle name is Lorenzo. i don't make the rules.
I also feel like setting the setting as a "romantic" night will really show what people consider romantic in terms of personal preference, which should be super interesting to read.
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thank you so much for reading!
if you want to check out more of my writing, feel free to do so here
and all the other stories from this challenge are somewhere around here
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andvys · 6 months
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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 13
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Warnings: angst! mentions of sexual assault and talks of rape, alcohol and drug consumption, bad parenting, mentions of domestic abuse.
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler , slight Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Steve promised to always be there for you when you were little kids and you find out that he had kept this promise.
Word count: 7k
A/N: The beginning of this chapter is heavily inspired by Seven by Taylor Swift, if you haven’t listened to it, go listen to it now! @mysticmunson thank you for the help as always, ilysm 🤍
series masterlist
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You have never been one to ask for help, whenever you struggled with something, you simply kept it to yourself and dealt with it alone, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. 
Even when you were scared, you didn’t tell anyone, you didn’t ask for comfort, you didn’t call for help, you simply learned how to deal with the fear alone. 
When your parents started fighting and you heard your dad yell at your mom, you hid in the closet, you put your hands over your ears and cried silently, hoping that they would just stop yelling at each other, hoping that he would stop being so mad all the time. 
You suffered, hearing your parents fight. You were scared – scared that something worse would happen, scared that their fights would turn into something more serious, scared that one of them would leave. 
You didn’t want them to fight, you didn’t want them to hate each other, you didn’t want one of them to leave. 
You just wanted your mom and your dad, you wanted your family. 
One night, when you were twelve years old, Steve had climbed up to your window, he sneaked into your room, excitedly. It was the night before your birthday and he got you an early present. The smile faded from his lips when for the first time, he had heard your dad’s angry voice and your mom’s nervous one, when he heard the quiet sniffles coming from your closet where he had found you rocking back and forth with your hands over your ears and tears rolling down your cheeks. His heart broke at the sight of you. 
He startled you when he reached his hand out to touch your shoulder, you flinched and looked up at him, your face scrunched up in confusion and your eyes widened, you stared at him with a quivering lip and glassy eyes that flashed with relief when you realized that it was really him in front of you. 
“Steve?” You whispered, shakily as you removed your hands from your ears, slowly. 
He stepped inside the closet and closed the door again, he sat down beside you and wrapped an arm around you. 
“I’m here, Dolly,” he had whispered, using the nickname that he jokingly gave you when you were both five years old and you went through an obsession with dolls. 
Steve didn’t know that your parents were fighting, no one knew. 
You cried into his shoulder and he held your hand. Even he flinched at the sound of your dad’s angry shouts. He felt so awful that night, he was so worried about you. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked when you started to calm down. 
You only shrugged in response. 
“You should come live with me, you won’t have to be scared. I’ll protect you.”
When you smiled at his words and looked at him through your glassy eyes, Steve had promised himself that he would always be there for you, that he would protect you and keep you safe. 
He thinks about that night a lot. 
He thinks about how much he failed you. 
He thinks about how he broke his own promise. 
He thinks about how he abandoned you. 
And he hates himself for it, especially when he hears your broken voice and your quiet sniffles on the phone. 
“Steve?”
He straightens his back, furrowing his brows. Chills run through him and an instant rush of worry floods through him when he hears you crying. 
“Y/n?” 
“I-I’m sorry, Steve. I d-didn’t know who else to call.” 
You could have called Eddie or Heather or Chrissy or even Robin, Steve thinks to himself. You are outside, he can hear the passing cars. He wonders if your voice is shaky because of the cold or because you are crying. 
“Where are you, y/n?” Steve asks as he already gets up to put on the sweater he had thrown over his chair earlier.
You sniffle again, it reminds him of the night he found you crying in the closet. 
“G-Gas station,” you mumble, “c-can you please pick me up?”
There is only one gas station in Hawkins, he knows exactly where you are.
“Yeah, of course,” he speaks into the receiver. Steve can feel his heart pounding in his chest, a glance into the mirror shows him that his face is etched with worry. 
“H-Hurry up.”
The sound of your scared and small voice almost sends him into a state of panic. 
What happened? 
How scared do you have to be to call him out of all people? 
“I’ll be right there, y/n. Just stay where you are, okay?” 
“Okay,” you whisper. 
Begrudgingly, he hangs up the phone, he then hurries out of his room, rushing down the stairs. He turns on the lights in the hallway, he quickly puts his Nike's on, he grabs his jacket and his bundle of keys before he leaves the house. 
Steve doesn’t know what to expect but the awful feeling in his chest tells him that you are in a bad state. 
You have never asked for help, not even when you were still together and he already knew about your fears and struggles, he had done his best to be there for you but you have never asked him to be there for you, you didn’t want to be a burden, you never could be. 
Steve keeps running his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit he can’t seem to get rid of. 
He goes over the speed limit, not caring about the risk of getting another ticket. The streets are empty anyways, no cops seem to be in sight. He feels anxious and on edge but he feels relieved, when he pulls up to the empty gas station and he sees you.
You are sitting on the concrete floor, your elbows are on your knees, your hands are over your ears, just like back then. He parks the car and turns it off, he opens the door and gets out, not wasting a single second to get to you. 
You keep your head down, rocking back and forth, you haven’t noticed him yet. Your body is shaking, you aren’t even wearing a jacket. Steve’s heart is still pounding, despite the relief he had felt in his body when he saw you, he still feels very anxious. He takes his jacket off and walks towards you, he crouches down in front of you.
“Y/n,” he whispers as he carefully lifts his hand, placing it on your shoulder as he whispers your name again. 
Your first instinct is to flinch at his touch and push his hand off as you scoot back quickly. 
Steve raises his hands in surrender, “hey! It’s me, it’s just me, y/n!” He rushes, staring at you with a startled look on his face, “it’s just Steve,” he whispers. 
Your eyes are wide and you instantly calm at the sound of his voice. For the first time that night, he sees your face. Your eyes are red rimmed and glassy but you aren’t crying. You got glitter on your cheeks and your forehead, your hair is a mess like you’ve spent tugging at it, all night. 
The look in your eyes can only be described as terrified. 
“Steve?” You whisper in relief. 
He nods with a confused and scared look on his face. 
What happened to you? 
The street light is shining down on you but he has yet to see the rest of your body. 
“You came,” you whisper with a quivering lip, staring at him as though you can’t believe that he is in front of you. 
His gaze softens and his heart hurts to see you like this. 
What happened?
You were doing so good, you looked so happy. 
“Of course I came,” he whispers and slowly inches closer to you, you don’t flinch this time, only staring at him with your wide eyes as though you can’t believe that he is actually here. He wraps his jacket around you, leaning closer to you. He smells your sweet perfume, your shampoo, your vanilla body wash but above the pleasant scents is a heavy smell of  whiskey, cigarettes, weed and the strong scent of cologne, it’s not the same one he smelled on you before, it’s not Eddie’s cologne. 
He swallows nervously. 
You weren’t with Eddie tonight, you wouldn’t be here if you were. Steve might not know him well but if there is something he learned about Eddie is the protectiveness he feels over you. You wouldn’t be alone at a gas station at 1 am if you had been with him tonight. 
He just knows it. 
When Steve lifts your hair up to pull them out from beneath the jacket, a cold shiver runs down his spine when he sees the bruises on the side of your neck, bite marks and hickeys litter your skin. He pulls away slowly, his breathing quickens, he blinks, staring at your face for a long second. You seem to be on the verge of tears but something inside of you keeps you from crying, you look frozen, your body is tense.
Steve pulls back, he looks down at you and his heart drops completely. His lips part, his eyes widen and all color drains from his face when he sees the bruises around your wrists and on your thighs. 
No, no, no, no…. God no… Please no.. 
He keeps staring at the bruises, frozen in place, heart racing and breaking each passing second. 
He whispers your name in shock. 
You raise your head to look at him and when you notice the look on his face, you start shaking your head and pulling at your dress to hide your thighs as though it will get rid of the marks he had left on you, you didn’t even realize how hard he grabbed you, how rough his hands were when he forced your legs apart or when he pinned your wrists against his car, you were too consumed with fear to feel anything. You are surprised that you even managed to fight back, that you got out of the situation before something much worse could happen. 
“D-Do you need a doctor? Should I drive you to the hospital?” Steve asks, shakily. 
You shake your head as the panic begins to settle back in, your throat feels tight and tears well up in your eyes, “n-no, I wanna go home,” you whisper as you look at him with pleading eyes, “please just drive me home, Steve. Please.” 
Steve doesn’t know how to handle the situation, he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to help you. 
Who did this to you? 
His stomach churns, he feels sick, so sick. 
You flinch a little when he touches your shoulder again and Steve pulls his hand away immediately. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 
Your eyes shift away from him, you look down and pull the jacket tighter around your body. 
Steve eyes you, watching the way you push yourself up to stand, he follows suit, standing up as well. 
Your knees buckle and you almost fall back to the ground but Steve catches you, carefully holding you by your waist. This time, you don’t flinch away from his touch, he keeps holding you, pulling you closer to him. 
“It’s okay, I got you,” he whispers softly, “I got you.”
His heart won’t stop hammering in his chest and he doesn’t know which emotion inside of him is stronger right now. 
The worry he feels for you or the anger he feels for the person who did this to you? 
A gust of wind makes you shiver, it blows through your hair and you shudder at the feeling of the coldness touching your exposed skin. The smell of gasoline is beginning to make you feel nauseous. 
“I wanna go home.”
Steve nods with a broken look in his eyes. 
He leads you back to his car and opens the door for you. You let go of him when you sit down in the passenger seat. Despite the whirlwind that is going on in your mind and the amount of alcohol and drugs you have in you, you still remember to put on the seatbelt. Your dress rides up in the process, you don’t notice it.
Steve sucks in a sharp breath and he clenches his jaw when he sees more bruises on your thighs, the ones that were hidden beneath your dress. He looks away and clenches his hand into a fist after he closes the door. 
He tries to take deep breaths to calm himself down as he walks around the car, he opens the door and gets inside. 
You are quiet, so very quiet, he can’t even hear you breathing. He glances at you, you pulled the sleeves of his jacket over your hands and you are looking at the window, facing away from him. 
“Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?” 
You shake your head, “I’m fine,” you mumble, without looking at him. 
He nods to himself, sighing deeply as he starts the car. 
When the music starts playing and David Bowie’s voice sounds through the car, Steve winces a little. On the drive here, he was so on edge and distracted by his thoughts, he wasn’t really paying attention to the music that was playing. He turns the volume down and he narrows his eyes, glancing at you. You don’t seem to pay attention to anything right now. 
You keep blinking rapidly, staring out the window. 
On the drive to your house, he keeps checking on you to make sure that you are okay. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, he is feeling too much right now. 
You are silent, so silent. 
It’s been a long time since you have sat in the passenger seat next to him. The last time you did, you were still together. He was yours, you were his, you were both okay and you were safe and happy. 
Now you sit here with tears in your eyes and bruises on your skin – you are not okay, you were not safe tonight and he doesn’t know if you will be happy again after whatever happened. 
Lost in his thoughts, Steve stares at the road ahead, swallowing the bitterness on his tongue and fighting the anger and the guilt he feels for himself. This shouldn’t have happened, this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been so stupid all these months ago. 
He was supposed to protect you, he was supposed to keep you safe. 
Steve doesn’t notice the way you look away from the window, the way you look down at yourself, the way your breathing quickens and your eyes widen. 
You stare at the bruises on your thighs, the ones beneath your dress. How rough had he been when he tried to force your legs apart? How strong did he grip your thighs when he tried to touch you where you didn’t want to be touched? 
You push the sleeves of Steve’s jacket up, frowning at the bruises on your wrists. Your heart begins to hammer in your chest, hot tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and you feel the panic rushing through you. The realization of what would have happened if you didn’t find the strength to fight back begins to sink in and the sudden nausea makes you want to throw up but the tightness in your throat makes you feel like you cannot breathe, yet, somehow, the sob that’s been rising up, falls from your lips and you break down in the passenger seat of your ex boyfriend’s car. 
Too many emotions run through you; shock, fear, sadness, pain, disgust and anger. 
Not only did he try to strip you of your powers, he also tore down walls that you have been slowly building up since Steve left you. You hear his voice, all the things he said to you repeat themselves over and over again, you feel his touch, his rough hands on your body. 
A man who has no meaning in your life took away so much from you tonight. 
Steve pulls the car off the road, he hits the brakes and unbuckles his seatbelt. He doesn’t know what to do when he sees you crying that way. The pain in your eyes, the tears streaming down your face and your broken sobs make him want to cry too. 
He whispers your name and he leans closer to you but he doesn’t touch you, knowing that this will only make things worse. 
“I-I didn’t want it,” you whimper as you stare at the bruises on your wrists, “I-I said no, I told him no, I told him t-that I didn’t want it, I said no, Steve.” You ramble as you turn to face him with big, glassy eyes. 
Steve’s eyes are filled with shock, a horrified expression takes over his face. 
“H-He said that I wanted it but I didn’t, I never wanted it, I didn’t– I just wanted someone to like me.” You cry as you pull at your dress and Steve finally notices your bruised knuckles, he hasn’t seen them before.
How often can a heart break in one night? 
Steve feels like his insides are being twisted, the gut wrenching sound of your cries make him feel so helpless and your words make him feel sick. His eyes are burning and his hands itch to hurt the man who hurt you. 
He says your name softly and he places his hand on top of yours, this time, you don’t flinch away from him and his touch. You turn to face him and he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to wipe your tears and take your pain, but he can’t. 
He doesn’t know how to ask you this question, especially when you are looking at him like that. 
“Did… Did he –” Did he rape you? Is what he needs to know but he cannot utter these words, the thought of someone doing such a disgusting and vile thing to you makes him feel sick to his stomach.
Steve doesn’t have to finish the question, you know what he wants to know and you start shaking your head with wide eyes as your tears continue to roll down your cheeks. 
“I fought back a-and he let me go but he was so awful.”
“Who?” He finally asks.
“Ray.”
Steve is not surprised to hear his name, not after he watched you write your number on his hand at the bonfire, last week. He clenches his jaw and nods. 
Raymond Parker. 
Steve knows where he lives.
The haunted look in your eyes tells him that there is more. Things you don’t want to say out loud.
He watches the way your brows furrow, the way your eyes continue to well up with tears. You seem to think about something, something that hurts you, it’s so clear on your face. 
“Why does everyone hurt me?”
Steve’s face falls, his eyes flash with guilt. 
“Why does everyone leave me?” You whisper to yourself. 
Steve knows that you’d never say these things if you were sober and free from the hurt. 
Your dad left, Steve left, your friends are slipping through your fingers and now you are afraid that Eddie will leave too. You saw the anger in his eyes when he found you at Reefer Rick’s house, you didn’t listen to him, you broke a promise and now he is disappointed in you – will your best friend leave you just like they did? 
“And Eddie hates me now, h-he was so angry at me, I-I don’t, I didn’t want to disappoint him,” you mumble, causing him to frown. 
“I ran away from him.”
What could you have done to disappoint Eddie?
Suddenly, you turn around, reaching for the door handle. You want to leave, you need to get out of here but before you can even open the door, Steve locks the car, mumbling something under his breath. 
“You think I’ll let you leave right now?” Steve asks, confused. 
His action seems to wake the anger in you and you turn back around, glaring at him. You stare into his eyes for a long second before you open your mouth to speak.
“Oh so now you don’t want me to leave!?” 
He knows that your question is one out of anger but the sadness is rooted so deep inside of you. The pain in your eyes is so contagious, it makes him sad too. 
“Dolly,” he whispers, using the nickname that he gave you when you were children, that seems to worsen your pain. He sees your quivering lip, the tears that pool in your eyes and roll down your cheeks in an instant. 
Regret and guilt is something that he cannot deal with, to this day. It haunts him and this will haunt him even more. This shouldn’t have happened, none of this should’ve happened. He was supposed to keep you safe from all the horrors in this world but he failed you so strongly and he put you through horror himself. 
You slump back in the seat, sniffling quietly as you turn your face away from him. 
Steve stares at the back of your head for a long moment. 
This is so wrong. All of this is. 
You belong here, with him, but not like this, never like this. 
He takes a deep breath and he closes his eyes for a second before he turns back, gripping the steering wheel again as he restarts the car. 
The rest of the drive home is spent in silence, you continue to cry and it makes his heart ache. He focuses on you, rather than the anger that he feels for the man who hurt you – he will keep that for later.
When he pulls up to your house and he parks his car in your driveway, he notices that the lights are off and your mom’s car isn’t here. The thought of leaving you by yourself tonight, makes him feel uneasy. 
You both get out of the car and he rushes over to you to make sure that you won’t fall again but you hold your hand up, not wanting to be touched. He keeps his distance but watches you closely when you walk up the stairs. 
“Shit,” you mumble, bringing your hand up to your face, you pinch your nose, “I-I forgot my jacket and I don’t have my keys.”
“Oh,” Steve says as he looks at you, he then looks down at the bundle of keys in his hand. He swallows nervously, “I-I uh, I still got your keys.”
With furrowed brows and a confused look on your face, you look up at him. Steve eyes the puffiness in your eyes, the redness in them, the pouty lips that you never notice yourself doing. 
He scratches the back of his neck and his eyes shift away from you, “I forgot to take them off,” he mumbles, unable to look into your eyes. He turns away and walks towards the door to unlock it. 
You don’t say anything about it, you keep quiet and stare at his back before your eyes move down to the keys. 
Is the key to her house on his keychain as well? 
The sound of an approaching car causes the both of you to turn around, the bright headlights and the screeching sound of the tires against the ground makes you both wince. 
You straighten your back when you see him. 
He jumps out of his van. The door on the passenger side opens as well and you see Robin. You watch the way their eyes find you, the way they sigh in relief at the sight of you under your porch light. 
Eddie places his hands on his head and he exhales loudly, happy to see you here. Both he and Robin rush over to you. 
Eddie’s eyes are wide and filled with guilt and worry, his brown eyes take in the sight of you and he almost lets out a gasp when he finally notices what he hasn’t noticed before, the bruises on your thighs, the redness in your eyes, the state you are in. 
What happened?
You are wearing Steve’s jacket and he wonders how or why you are with him. 
Did you call him? Did he find you? Did you walk to his place? 
He whispers your name in shock, frozen in place, he can’t even move towards you. Your eyes lock for a moment and he can tell that you are about to burst into tears, again. He wants to pull you into his arms but he is scared to touch you. 
“Y/n?” Robin whispers as her eyes flash with a knowing look. She doesn’t have to ask to know what happened, if it wasn’t for the state you are in then she’d be able to tell by the haunted look in your eyes. 
You tear your eyes away from Eddie, startling all three of them when you suddenly throw yourself into Robin’s arms and start crying again. Without wasting a second, Robin wraps her arms around you and hugs you tightly, rubbing your back. 
Eddie and Steve watch you with broken looks in their eyes. 
“Shh, it’s okay.” Robin whispers as she lifts her head, glancing at Steve who stares at you, looking helpless. She then looks at Eddie, who looks just as helpless as Steve does but there is also guilt and regret in his eyes, she knows why, he kept beating himself up over appearing so angry to you when he found you at Rick’s house. 
When he called her, he sounded scared and panicked, he asked for you, hoping that you came over to her, you didn’t. He picked her up and they both drove around town, looking for you. Eddie kept chewing on his lip and bouncing his knee, tugging at his hair and mumbling curse words under his breath – Robin had never seen him so nervous and scared before.
Now he stands there like a kicked puppy, he stares at you, not knowing what to do. 
“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Robin says to you. 
You nod and pull away from her, looking down at the ground as you wipe your tears. Robin wraps her arm around your shoulder, glancing at Steve and Eddie as you both walk past them. 
Eddie and Steve share a look before they follow you both inside, watching you walk up the stairs. Robin turns her head, looking down at them, she shakes her head, ‘don’t’ she mouths. 
They listen to your sniffles and watch you until they can no longer see you. They hear your footsteps in the hallway upstairs and when the door to your room closes. Eddie slumps against the door, he presses his palm to his forehead, “shit,” he mumbles, “what the fuck happened, man?” 
Steve narrows his eyes, eyeing Eddie up and down. The worry and the panic on his face and in his eyes, isn’t very hard to miss. 
Looking down at the keys in his hands, Steve sighs before he throws them on the little table in the hallway. He turns on the light and sits down on the stairs.
“She called me from the payphone at the gas station.”
Eddie’s eyes widen, “what?” 
“She asked me to come pick her up,” he says, looking down, “and then uh, then she told me that you were angry at her and that she ran away from you, that's probably why she called me, anyway.” Steve knows that you wouldn't have called him if it wasn't for what happened with Eddie. He is the one you think of first, whenever you need someone, now.
Eddie shakes his head, his eyes flash with even more guilt. He feels ashamed, knowing that Steve knows that he was the reason why you ran. He keeps looking at the ground, continuing to beat himself up for the next several minutes before he hears the door to your room shutting again. He looks up, seeing Robin again. 
“I think you guys should leave,” she says as she walks down the stairs. 
“What?” Eddie asks, “I’m not leaving.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Steve says to the girl he never spoke to before. 
She sighs, rolling her eyes.
She doesn’t know Steve very well but she knows Eddie and she knows how stubborn he can be, he won’t leave. 
“Well, can you at least get her some painkillers and water?” Robin asks Steve with annoyance written all over her face, “you must know where it is, right?” 
She doesn’t like him – obviously. Steve nods, he turns away from her and walks down the hallway. He turns on the lights when he steps into the kitchen, the first thing he sees are the pink flowers on the counter, it’s your favorite ones. 
“C-Can I see her?” Eddie asks, “please?”
Robin’s eyes soften at the pleading look in his eyes. 
“She’s taking a shower right now, but Eddie,” she mumbles, pausing as she looks down with a horrified look on her face, “she has bruises on her thighs, wrists and neck.”
He saw the ones on your thighs, but not the ones on your wrists or your neck. 
“She said that nothing happened, that she got away before he could – you know..” She says, uncomfortably. She can't even finish the sentence but she doesn't have to. Eddie knows.
“Ray did this?” 
She nods and Eddie’s stomach drops.
He shouldn’t have been mad at you, he shouldn’t have scared you that way, he should’ve taken a closer look at you, at least he could’ve taken care of you, instead of scaring you away with his worry and his anger, making your night even worse.
He blinks when he feels hot tears in his eyes. He feels guilty, so guilty.
He encouraged you to go on that date.
“Eddie,” Robin whispers, stepping towards her friends, she knows exactly what he feels like, she feels the same. “It’s not your fault.”
“I-I told her to go on that date,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he looks down at the ground.
"So did I!" Robin says but Eddie ignores her words.
“And then, I got mad at her when I saw her at Rick’s but, I-I was just worried! I specifically told her never to go to his parties alone, Robin!” 
Eddie wanted to protect you but it wasn’t even that place or the people at Rick’s place that put you into danger.
“I know,” she sighs, “she said that Rick found her and the girls she was with were nice, nothing happened, Eddie.”
“Nothing happened,” he scoffs as the anger – an even worse kind of anger, takes over him when he thinks about the guy who did that to you, who would have done worse to you if you didn’t fight back. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“Yeah, you and me both, buddy.”
The sound of Steve’s voice is irritating to Robin, every time she hears his voice, every time she looks at him, she gets reminded of how much she dislikes this guy but even through that, she has to admit that he cares about you – even if you don’t see it. 
She looks between Eddie and Steve, eyeing the looks on their faces as they seem to settle on a silent agreement. 
She quirks a brow, sighing in annoyance, she steps towards Steve and grabs the water bottle and the painkillers from his hands. 
“Okay cowboys, why don’t you let the cops handle it?” She asks as she turns around and begins to walk up the stairs, groaning in annoyance when they follow her. 
“Cops?” He scoffs, “they’re not gonna do shit, Robin.” 
Robin is surprised that he even knows her name. 
“Uncle Wayne is friends with Hopper, he won’t let him get away,” Eddie says.
“Yeah, Hopper won’t but Hopper can’t keep him in a cell in Hawkins for the rest of his life.” 
Eddie huffs. He knows he is right. 
Ray has wealthy parents, they will do anything to keep their son out of jail. 
“And what he did was bad enough but he won’t go to jail for that, you know how it is, guys,” Robin sighs, “men get away with worse, what makes you think that he will pay for this? A young college student, an athlete may I add? He has a bright future ahead of him, no judge will ruin that for him!” Robin mutters, angrily. 
“Yeah well, I can ruin his bright athlete future,” Eddie mumbles as he already thinks of the way he could hurt him. 
“Eddie,” Robin sighs, “she doesn’t want you getting into trouble–”
“No, he’s right,” Steve mumbles, “we can easily ruin his future.”
She looks between them, they are serious about this, she can tell that they are. 
“You aren’t doing anything, I don’t want you to.” 
Your voice startles the three of them and they all glance at you. They didn’t notice that you have opened your bedroom door or that you have been watching and listening to them talk. 
Eddie’s eyes widen again, when he finally sees the other bruises, he feels his heart clench in his chest. The bruises on your wrists will stay for a while. How roughly did he grab you? How much pain did he put you through? 
He feels the hot rage inside of him and the urge to hurt the man who did this to you is so very strong. 
But the urge to comfort you and pull you into his arms is so much stronger. 
Your hair is wet and your face looks clean again, the glitter and the mascara streaks are gone. You are wearing a big shirt, his shirt. 
“He didn’t r- assault me in that way. I-I'm not hurt, I was just upset about some shit he said to me, not what he did,” you mumble quietly, looking back down at the ground as you grip the doorknob tightly.
Never in a million years, would they believe your words. You are standing there with bruises on your body, lying about not hurting. This changes everything.
“A-And I’m okay, you guys don’t have to stay here and watch over me.”
All three of them know that you are lying, they can hear the shakiness in your voice and you are not exactly good at hiding the tears in your eyes.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie whispers. 
You lift your head slightly, looking into his eyes, “I’m okay, Eddie,” you whisper, trying to give him a smile. 
He feels helpless, just like Steve does, just like Robin does. 
“I’m not leaving,” he mumbles. 
“Yeah, me neither,” Steve says, “w-we can go downstairs if you’re more comfortable with that.” 
You look away from Eddie and meet his eyes, you eye the softness in them, the worry and you wonder, has it always been there since he left you? 
“Okay,” you whisper. 
But neither Steve or Eddie go downstairs when you walk back into your room. Robin follows and closes the door after giving them both a sad look. 
They settle on the ground, both leaning their backs against the wall on each side of your door and for the first ten minutes or so, it’s awkwardly silent between them. Only the sound of the ticking clock on the opposite wall sounds through the hallway. 
Eddie stares into blank space, twisting the rings on his fingers as he blinks rapidly, not noticing that Steve is watching him. 
“Stop beating yourself up, none of this is your fault.” He says, feeling just as guilty as Eddie does. 
“I should’ve protected her, I-I fucked up.”
“No, you didn’t,” Steve mumbles, “you didn’t fuck up. Her running away from you isn’t you fucking up, dude. She got scared that you were mad at her, she thought you were disappointed in her for whatever reason, that’s why she ran – she was too much in her head, on drugs and drunk.”
“I was mad and I wasn’t thinking straight, I just saw red when I saw her at Rick’s place, I shouldn’t have gotten so mad, I should’ve asked why she was there.” 
Steve had heard about Reefer Rick and the ‘wild’ parties he’s throwing. He heard about the drugs and other illegal shit that goes down at the boathouse. 
“You wanted to protect her, there’s a good reason why you didn’t want her there.” 
“Yeah but–”
“Stop it, Eddie.” Steve mumbles, rolling his eyes, “you aren’t the one who fucked up, you were there for her all this time and you were there to pull her out of the house before something else could happen.” 
He is right, Eddie knows he is but the guilt is still rooted deep inside of him. He should’ve told you to cancel the date, he shouldn’t have encouraged you to go. 
“I’m the one who fucked up,” Steve scoffs as he looks down at his hands, a look of hatred crosses his features, hatred for himself. 
Eddie frowns. 
“This isn’t your fault either, Steve.”
“Everything is my fault. This wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t break her heart, she would’ve never gone on that date.” 
Steve wasn’t even sure if it was a date, he figured it was. When he saw the flowers on your counter, he knew for certain. 
“This could have been prevented, I shouldn’t have encouraged her to go on that date,” Eddie admits in shame.
“It still isn’t your fault, Eddie.” 
“Well, it’s not yours either,” Eddie mumbles, “shit like that happens to girls all the time, even if you were still together, it could’ve happened.” 
Steve nods at his words, he is right, he knows he is but that still doesn’t take away the guilt. 
Both of them are trying to convince the other to stop taking the blame but it does little to make them feel any less guilty.
The silence takes over, once again and Steve is the first to break it, again. 
“I thought you were together.”
Eddie’s brows pull together, he looks confused when he turns to face Steve, who is already looking at him.
“Yeah, I uh, I thought you two were dating,” Steve adds as he looks away, nervously. “You seem pretty close, the way her and I were before we uh – before we started dating.” 
Eddie nods, “oh.” 
He looks at him, trying to figure out the look on his face. 
“We’re not, we’re friends.” 
“Are you?” Steve asks, “just friends?” 
Eddie nods, “yeah.”
He looks skeptic, unsure of whether he should believe him or not. He eyes the frown on his face, the sadness and the anger in Eddie’s brown eyes. 
“Do you love her?” Steve asks as his heart starts beating faster.
Eddie chuckles at the question, his eyes flash with something that Steve struggles to read. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, he just stares into nothing.
“Yeah, I do.”
Steve can’t describe the feelings inside of him, right now. Is he surprised to hear him say it? No. How could he not love you? 
Eddie would treat you better than he ever did.
As Eddie looks at him, he notices the sadness in his eyes – Steve wishes that things were different and he knows that you do too.
“But it’s not like that. I love her and I would do just about anything for her, she is my best friend,” he says to him as he continues to fidget with his rings, “she makes me happy and things are amazing the way they are. I never had someone like her in my life.”
Steve feels confused about his words, isn’t that how he felt about you once?
“You love her but you are just friends?” Steve mumbles. 
Eddie snorts, he leans his head against the wall and glances at him, “friends can love each other too, you know that right? It’s a different kind of love than how you would love a partner but it’s still love.” 
“I’m confused.”
“Platonic love, dude.” Eddie sighs, “do you know anything?”
Steve purses his lips, he shrugs, “well our platonic love turned into something else.”
“Then it was never platonic in the first place.”
Yeah, he might be right. Steve loved you, he always did, even when he was a kid and even when he said he didn’t. 
“You love her but you are not in love with her?” Steve asks, whispering the question this time when he remembers that you might be awake and listening in on their conversation. 
Eddie rolls his eyes, he bumps his head against the wall, his bangs fall in front of his eyes but he doesn’t bother to push them away. 
“We can be friends without being in love with each other, right?” 
Steve doesn’t know how to respond to that, he only shrugs. 
Just being friends, never worked out for you and him. 
“I fucking adore that girl, that’s all.” Eddie explains. 
The look on his face is genuine. 
“Things are good the way they are, between us, I mean.”
“Has it always been that way?” Steve asks, curiously. “I mean, from the start?” 
Steve notices the way he hesitates, the way his eyes don’t meet his anymore. Eddie knows exactly why he is asking, he is trying to find something out. He knows that you two have been friends for longer than he initially thought. 
The night at the dance, back in december, Steve remembered seeing you with Eddie at a party he threw back in august and it brought up questions, ones that he never dared to ask you after what he had done. 
He never remembered much from that night, just how drunk he was and how awful your fight had been, so awful that you didn't even spent the night at his place the way you usually did. No matter how bad a fight had been, you had never not stayed with him, except for that night.
“Uh, no..” Eddie mumbles, “we’ve only gotten this close after you two broke up.” 
Steve nods and decides to stop asking questions, it’s better that way. 
But now, Eddie takes his turn, he watches him with a questioning look in his eyes. 
“You love her, don’t you?” He asks, “you always did, right? All this, ‘I’m not in love with you anymore’ bullshit, was just bullshit, right?” He asks, chuckling.
Steve winces at that word, it takes him back to the night in your room, after he had tried to kiss you. 
‘That’s bullshit, Steve! Everything you do, everything you say is bullshit! Y-You’re bullshit!’
You were right about what you said, about what you called him and Eddie is right too. 
“Yeah,” he breathes, “it was just… bullshit. But, I’m with Nance now and things are great.”
Great. Just great.
Eddie raises his brows but he doesn’t say anything. There is more he’d like to say and know but, this isn’t the right time. 
A beat of silence brings back the awkwardness. They glance at each other, not knowing what else to say or do.
But both, get lost in their thoughts so easily. They both think about you, about what happened.
Wondering what Ray had said and done to you. It weren't just his actions that had hurt and upset you, it was something he said to you. Both, Eddie and Steve saw the look in your eyes, the haunted and deeply hurt one.
What words had he thrown at you?
“Hey Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“You know where Parker lives, right?” 
next chapter
tagging friends & mutuals
@mysticmunson @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @screammunson @hellfire--cult @taintedcigs @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfiregirlxx @take-everything-you-can @nemesis729 @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked
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taintedcigs · 5 months
Text
GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader
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CHAPTER FIVE: STRUCK A MATCH AND BLEW YOUR MIND
← prev chapter // next chapter →
✦ summary: in which you decide to reveal everything at brunch and chaos ensues. (wc: 8.3k+)
✦ warnings — ANGST!!, like this one is really angsty buckle up! argument </33, yelling, crying, mentions of an ab*sive relationship, it is not detailed by they talk A LOT about it, mentions of bruises, some trauma/making fun of trauma, chrissy being super mean and omfg reader is PETTY, jealousy, pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, food!!, steve is silly luv him
✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader, eddie munson x chrissy cunningham, nancy wheeler x jonathan byers
✦ authors note — ngl this was fun to write LMAO but so hellish to edit JFC IM FINALLY DONE!! a few songs i listened to while i wrote this chapter are; liar by paramore, rwylm by taylors swift, and lover you should've come over by jeff buckley. need to add all those to the playlist asap !! also feel free to chat with me in the asks abt this series (and anything tbh) pls!! and not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!!
series masterlist | series playlist
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Counting cobblestones was your best distraction from Robin’s loud groans and the noises her dress made as she stretched it further and further. The sun streamed through the both of you, causing you to squeeze your eyes lightly. 
“Would you let my poor dress go?” You warned without turning to her, hand having a harsh grip on the gin bottle you were afraid of dropping. 
“I can’t, it’s itching!” She groaned, harshly scratching her chest. 
“Why’d you even ask to borrow a dress if you hated wearing them so much?” You threw her a look.
"I wanted to look presentable! But now, I think I’d rather wear a trash bag than ever be this uncomfortable again,” she said through gritted teeth, following you to the doorstep. 
You giggled, “But you know what?” you turned to her with a smile, “You look super pretty in that dress, Robs,” you winked teasingly, earning a groan from her as your hand shakily pressed onto the red doorbell, careful not to drop the bottle that was in your grip. 
A few rumbles were overheard before Steve swiftly opened the door, leaning against the doorframe as he gave the two of you a look, both of you in your sundress, while you held the bottle in your hand like a prized possession and Robin was still scratching her neck. “About damn time, I was starting to think you guys forgot where I lived!” He said teasingly, causing you to narrow your gaze. 
“Whatever happened to hello? Hi? I missed you, my bestest friend, Pinky!” You exaggerated dramatically, “Oh and you totally look so much better than that traitor sitting in my living room,” you spat snarkily, perfectly imitating a bitchy Steve. 
“You know about that?” Steve asked, and you were quick to nod. “Oh, thank fucking god! I did not want to be the one to tell you,” he sighed a breath of relief, a gesture you met with a roll of your eyes.
Steve quickly changed his tone to flattery. “Have I told you how much I missed you, sweetheart?” he said with exaggerated sweetness, “Oh, and you look so pretty!” He continued with an amplified smile, “so much better than that traitor sitting in my living room.” He hummed, covering his mouth sideways, so childlike that it had you giggling. 
Amid the banter, Robin, still visibly uncomfortable, impatiently broke in. “Okay, doofus, are you gonna let us in?” She groaned and brushed past the two of you, making her way to the familiar kitchen.
“Hello to you too, Rob!” Steve responded with a chuckle, before closing the door and guiding you both to the cozy kitchen.
Once inside, Steve couldn't help but ask, “So, what have you got there, P?” His eyes locked on the gin bottle in your hand.
With an excited gleam in your eye, you presented it proudly. “A party gift,” you said with a grin, shaking it gently in front of Steve's face before he took it from you.
"For breakfast?" Steve asked with a huff and a raised eyebrow. 
“We’re going to make breakfast martinis!” Robin chimed in excitedly, her eyes lighting up as she grabbed two elegant cocktail glasses she'd found in Steve's well-stocked kitchen. The crystal-clear glasses made a chiming sound when she set them down harshly.
“You guys have a problem,” he joked, leaning against the kitchen counter while he eyed the way you hurriedly searched for something in his fridge.
“Says the guy who used to shotgun five beers like it was nothing,” you scoffed behind the fridge door. A shushed ‘Yes!’ escaped from your lips when you acquired lemons and a bottle of orange juice from the fridge's depths. 
“And that is not how you make a breakfast martini,” he playfully groaned, stealing your ingredients away from you. Your pout was met with a playful eye roll.
“Oh-kay, fancy pants,” Robin mocked, making you snort with her easy banter.
Steve couldn't help but ask, genuine concern etching his brow, “You sure you’re okay?”
You shrugged nonchalantly, but they both eyed your expressions curiously, almost as if you were a ticking time bomb.
“Oh, c'mon, you two!” You brushed it off, trying to shift the focus.
“We’re just worried about you is all,” Robin added, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Her fingertips were warm against your skin, concern washed over her face.
“It’s perfectly normal to not be okay, you know,” Steve reassured you, his voice gentle. “I mean, it must be hard coming back here after everything-”
“Well, I’m fine, Steve,” you replied a bit more sharply than you intended, guilt settling in your stomach quickly. Steve's comforting stance somehow allowed your emotions to spill out more freely.
“It’s-it’s just such a fucking gut punch that he brought her here, you know?” The frustration in your voice was palpable, tone heavy with pain.
“I know, I know,” Steve empathized, both of them stood by your side, hands resting on both of your shoulders, comedically protective. 
“Want me to beat him up?” Steve said with a serious gaze, hands forming into fists as he playfully punched the air. You and Robin erupted in giggles, as Robin elbowed him playfully, “I think she needs someone better at fights to protect her, you know?” She narrowed her gaze.
“Ow!” Steve dramatically gasped, “Rude!” He pouted. “Thank you, my knight in shining armor, but I’ll be fine." You snatched the gin bottle, moving on to the task at hand – preparing the breakfast martinis as you poured the clear liquid into the glass.
“I’m more worried about your health there,” he hummed, pointing toward the generous amount of gin you poured into your glass. 
“Jesus, when did you become such a priss, King Steve?” Robin mocked further before he gave the two of you a look. 
“I don’t like you two together,” he huffed, hand gesturing between the two of you dramatically, “so mean,” he said, tone exaggerated, and slumped playfully, pretending to be defeated.
“Aww, come on, Stevie,” you pouted, “I missed ya,” with a hum, you gave him a quick, affectionate squeeze in a tight hug. Steve responded with a theatrical cough causing you to roll your eyes.
“What have you been up to? I listened to Robin’s work crush, the whole fucking way…” You enunciated dramatically, drawing a teasing reaction from Robin, who exclaimed, “Hey!” in response.
“Can you believe her name is Lily? Lily… that’s so pretty, she’s so pretty… Like a flower. I mean her hair is so soft, I-I mean it seems soft I never like touched it or anything, that would be creepy-” You mimicked Robin and her fast-talking, and she stuck her tongue at you childishly. 
“Is doofusness contagious? I feel like you’ve been standing too close to Steve.” She mocked with a smirk, taking a jab at both of you, but more so Steve as she leaned against the counter cooly. 
“You’re quick with the comebacks today, Rob, jeez!” You praised, turning back to Steve who was disregarding the two of you with a shake of his head.  
Robin winked at you, before snatching the bottle from Steve’s hand to make herself a drink. “So… Stevie, what about you?” You hummed, leaning in with a curious expression.
“How’s work?”
A proud smile spread across Steve's face as he said, “I got a promotion.”
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, genuine excitement dancing in your eyes. “Steve, that’s amazing!” His frown had your brows furrowed, “why are you not excited?” You pouted.
“You remember Adam?” He huffed, “the guy from accounting?” Your brows quirked up in intrigue, Steve was quick to nod. 
“He turned out to be a douche,” with a scoff, he leaned further on the courter, his muscles flexing with irritation. “What?” You asked with a frown, “but you said it was getting serious?” 
“Yeah, I guess I was wrong, I dunno,” He shrugged, wanting to seem nonchalant but it was obvious he was hurt. 
Your face fell quickly, “well, what about that other girl you met in the grocery store?” You asked hopefully, nudging him slightly. 
“Didn’t even call me back,” Steve huffed, and you couldn't help but pout at his apparent string of bad luck.
“Stevie…”
“I dunno what’s wrong with me,” Steve admitted, his voice laced with self-doubt.
Your heart ached at his insecurity, and you couldn't help but reassure him. “What? Nothing is wrong with you! Are you kidding?”
“These people sound like the problem to me!” You exclaimed, “I mean look at you! A nice boy with a good job, and that hair? So soft!” you giggled, hand ruffling with his perfectly made hair, which he would usually yell at you for, but now he just looked at you with the most puppy dog eyes. “Harrington, you’re the whole goddamn package.” 
“You mean that?” He sounded so insecure, and innocent, that your stomach was quick to drop, knowing that Steve doubted himself like this. 
“Of course!” you reassured with a pat on his back, “fuck both of them! I’ll get you something to drink.” You winked.
“Please let me make it,” Steve replied with a hint of mischief, narrowing his gaze playfully. “In fact, I’ll make both of you a proper drink,” he emphasized.
“Fine, pretty boy.”
“Rob,” he called out to her with a tilt of his head  “Orange liquor, please?”
Robin looked at him with a puzzled look, “am I supposed to know where that is?” 
A tad exasperated, Steve pointed to a spot on the counter. “Right there on the counter, Rob. Jesus, you never let me look cool.”
“Don’t worry pretty boy, you don’t need her to make you look cool.” You winked teasingly, hand gently placed on Steve’s shoulder to give him a reassuring squeeze, causing Robin to snort behind you as you elbowed harshly to shush her. 
Of fucking course, that’s when they decided to come into the kitchen, you could hear Chrissy’s annoying giggles before you saw her, and Eddie’s face dropped the second he saw the two of you. And all you could focus on was how close they were standing next to each other, Chrissy’s shoulder brushing against his.
You felt sick again. 
Eddie cleared his throat, the laughter in the room dying with it. His sour face grew hot because he heard your compliments to Steve, saw the smiles you gave him, and your hand on his arm. 
Insecure thoughts were quick to race through his mind, why was your hand on his arm? And pretty boy? You used to call him that. And him only.
His thoughts should have driven him closer to Chrissy, to make you more jealous, to have that satisfaction, but all it did was leave a bitter taste in his mouth, another lump he couldn’t swallow, and he stepped a bit back away from her unintentionally. 
“Hi!” Chrissy beamed, and your eyes squinted with her voice, the urge to roll your eyes, and confront her right now was strong. 
None of you answered her, it was awkward, pretty fucking awkward that even Robin’s cheshire cat smile didn’t save the room, Eddie speaking up did. 
“You- uh got any water, Harrington?” It was supposed to be a joke, but the way it rolled out of his jealous lips made him sound bitter as if he was pissed at him. 
Steve, taken aback by Eddie's sudden change in attitude, raised an eyebrow and responded, “Yeah?” He pointed toward the refrigerator, offering some bottled water.
Annoyance seeped through you as they stood there, prickling like a knife through your skin, your gaze narrowed as you tried to avoid looking at them, but it was awkward, so fucking awkward. 
Eddie was quick to take a sip from the bottle, the entire room filled with silence as his gaze never faltered on you, “you got any notes for me?” Eddie said cooly, leaning onto the fridge, Chrissy by his side. 
It was aimed at you, and you totally would’ve missed it if every eye in the room didn’t turn to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, trying to deflect the attention. "Huh?"
Eddie’s demeanor changed at your confusion, almost like his confidence wore off the second he realized you might not have read it. “The note, you said you’d review it?” His voice held emotion, you could hear it, a pang of insecurity along with betrayal, but you didn’t want to talk about this, and you didn’t want to talk about it in front of her.
“No.” You lied through your teeth, swallowing the lump in your throat when you finally looked at him, like really, really looked at him. 
He looked tired, with dark circles surrounding his eyes, hair even messier than usual, his lips cracked, and you could smell the nicotine off of him, even though he was halfway across the room. 
And there was a slight shift in the way he held himself when you told him you didn’t read it, his tongue rolling inside of his cheek in a sour manner before he straightened up. “Typical,” he spat, he didn’t mean to, it was more supposed to be his inner voice, but he couldn’t help himself.  He couldn’t help the way he felt insecure when he saw you standing next to Steve, and he couldn’t help but show how much you not reading the note shattered him.
“Excuse me?” You scoffed, the air in the room getting tense, Steve and Robin pretending to be distracted while continuing to make a drink, Robin’s clumsy clatters serving as a noisy backdrop. 
“What does that mean?” You asked calmly, maybe it wasn’t as calm as you intended it to be, but he really had the nerve to come for you when he didn’t even realize he was the one who was in the wrong. 
“It means that I wouldn’t have expected anything more from you,” he spat out like he was your enemy, and it hurt, it fucking hurt that he saw you as someone that careless as if you didn’t read the entire note the whole night, as if you didn’t fall asleep to Aurora playing in the background. As if he knew anything. 
Your anger flared, and you couldn’t help yourself, “What the actual fuck is your problem?” Your voice raised, and you straightened yourself, taking a step closer to them as both Robin and Steve’s heads snapped toward your direction, wanting to interrupt, but Chrissy got to it first. 
“Okay, I don’t think we should-” Her screeching voice grated your ears.
With that, your attention turned to her, head cocking in a sharp gesture of anger, “stay out of it,” you warned, both Steve and Robin watched you in full force, almost looking like they wanted to cheer you on. 
Chrissy turned to Eddie as if she was asking for him to say something back to you, but Eddie’s gaze remained on you, unable to process anything else. 
She took a step closer, her head slightly tilted to the side, “Oh, come on, take a chill pill, Pinky,” she gave you a smile, it wasn’t warming, it wasn’t genuine, you could see right through her. This was her catty smile. 
And it almost triggered something in you—the way her head tilted, her hand on her hips, the ‘take a chill pill’ line, it was something you recognized all too well. 
The same phrase, that same annoying octave, and the same hand on her hips when she first “accidentally” started the rumor that you had kissed Eddie—granted, it wasn’t a rumor. It was true, you had kissed Eddie while you and Billy were on a break, but you told her that in confidence, and she broke your trust. Yet, like an idiot, you believed her when she said it was an accident, and that someone must have overheard the two of you talking.
Once Billy found out about the rumors, he barely let you breathe, not only did the fights get more amped up and violent, but he also isolated you from your friends, and mostly Eddie. You didn’t put the pieces together that Chrissy caused the rumor until much later.
Then, at Steve’s party, the same smile, and that same phrase, like you hadn’t caught her with Billy in the bathroom minutes ago. 
And now, she was doing it again, you assumed it was on purpose, or at least it all felt like it was on purpose. And it boggled your mind how quickly she made Eddie believe she was a nice person. Because she wasn’t, and even if she was, your friendship was beyond salvageable now. 
You decided to take a step closer to her, Steve and Robin both jumping on their feet, afraid of what might happen. But you had no intention of doing anything, or even saying anything to her. 
Because you had decided your mind. 
If Chrissy wanted to play that game, then so fucking be it. 
When the bell rang once again, Steve was quick to rise, “Must be Nancy and Jonathan!” he announced, voice almost cracking from the tension in the room. He was quick to scurry off, inviting the main couple inside. You turned to Robin swiftly, almost ruining her balance with the way you snatched the drink from her hand, you took a big sip, downing the contents in one go. Then, without acknowledging either of them, you headed inside, leaving behind the simmering tension in the kitchen. 
-
You were all seated, Nancy and Jonathan side by side, next to them Steve and Robin, and on their right, were the rest of the band, followed by Chrissy, Eddie, and you. 
The table itself looked perfect, you could see that Steve went all out for it, adorning the table with an array of breakfast foods. Plates piled high with pastries, fruit, muffins, and of course, Steve’s special pancakes. He never stopped raving about them, and the second he sat down, he grabbed a generous amount of it to his plate. A pot of steaming coffee sat right by the end of the table, along with your gin bottle sitting right next to it, which was what you had been preferring, because everything was fucking awkward.
You were sipping on your drink like it was your lifeline, Steve and Robin watched you with a concerned gaze, whispering back and forth. 
Jeff, Gareth, and the new drummer you hadn’t met before, Nathan were laughing obnoxiously, and you almost felt like it was all aimed at you.
Maybe you were paranoid, but you assumed they wouldn’t be keen on you, knowing that after L.A. all they saw was a mess of Eddie who wrote nothing but sad songs, which all the lyrics seemed to point in your direction.
“How is pre-wedding life going for the love birds?” Eddie hummed seemingly more content than before.
Jonathan and Nancy both let out an exasperated sigh, giggling like kids after they realized how in sync they were, “pretty fuckin’ tiring,” Jonathan replied, taking a mouthful bite from the pastry he had on his plate.
“You guys are still on for tonight, right? I promised the guy at Hideout at least two songs from Corroded Coffin,” he emphasized the band's name mockingly. 
“‘Course, dude, whatever you need,” Eddie gave him a small smile, a wink thrown in for good measure.
Unintentionally, Eddie shifted his gaze towards you, observing the way you seemed to shrink into your seat, fingers nervously tracing the rim of your drink. Chrissy's eyes followed him, her gaze narrowing as she caught onto the subtle shift in his attention. He leaned closer to you, so close that his hand almost brushed against yours that sat on the table.
Eddie opened his pursed lips, about to utter something, but Chrissy couldn’t let that happen.
“This feels weird,” She hummed, “the last time we were all here, this table was for beer pong.” She giggled, and slightly nudged Eddie.
Eddie gave her a tight-lipped smile before his attention was quick to turn back to you, but you ignored his burning gaze.
“Steve that was a sick party,” She exclaimed excitedly, trying to gather Steve’s attention who was busy trying to locate the syrup for his awaiting pancakes. 
Your head almost popped up simultaneously at the mention… the same party. The same fucking party she tried to kiss Billy. The same fucking party she humiliated you with her words. The same party she made fun of…
“Huh?” He asked mindlessly, almost knocking over Robin’s drink with how fast he was looking for the syrup, completely ignoring Chrissy. “Jesus Christ!” He exclaimed, earning furrowed brows from Robin, who just shook her head at him. 
“I forgot the syrup!” He groaned, getting up from his seat. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Robin mocked, as Steve threw her a glare before making a hasty retreat to the kitchen with a string of curses leaving his lips, while the rest of the table tried to soak in the awkwardness.
Gareth was quick to chime in though, “oh, yeah!” he quipped, remembering the party. “You went to that party?” Jeff asked with his brows pinched together in confusion. 
“Yeah, Eddie was selling so he brought me along,” he explained, grabbing Eddie by the shoulder with a chuckle. 
“Oh god, that was the same party you beat Billy to a fuckin’ pulp, dude!” His chuckle grew louder, hand on his stomach.
You and Eddie tensed at the mention of it, while you enjoyed Billy finally not being able to get away with his violence, none of that memory was amusing to you in the slightest. And nor was it to Eddie. 
Gareth turned to Chrissy when his laughter finally died off, “Hey, didn’t we play beer pong together?” 
Chrissy's face lit up with a nostalgic giggle, “oh my god, we totally did!” She exclaimed excitedly, but your gaze remained on your empty plate, unable to contain the rage bubbling inside of you. 
"It was so funny," she began, "Gareth kept missing it, but..."
Your patience reached its limit, and you couldn't help but interject. "When was that?" Your voice tinged with an edge, cut through the chatter at the table.
Multiple heads were quick to turn to you, and Chrissy probably had no clue what you were up to.  Maybe this was a low blow, maybe you shouldn’t tell in front of everyone.
“We were pretty drunk, I don’t remember-” She said meekly, but you interrupted, again.
“I was at that party too, but I must have missed that!” You continued, your words sharp and calculated. And feigning a faux sense of intrigue. Maybe it was cruel, but this was the perfect setup, and Chrissy was falling right into your trap. 
Before she could respond, you pressed on, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “oooh! Was that before or after you tried to hook up with my ex-boyfriend?” Your words hung heavy in the air, the whole table quick to fall silent. 
Almost all eyes except Chrissy turned to you, Robin almost choked on the strong drink Steve made for her. Gareth, Jeff, and Nathan all stopped their inner chatter, while Jonathan and Nancy’s eyes widened in unison.
As the tension continued to mount, Jonathan quickly turned to Nancy, leaning towards her, “Should I do something-” He whispered to Nancy, who didn’t dare to move, watching everything unravel before her. 
“Don’t you dare,” she warned, “she deserves this confrontation. And, I am tired of Eddie pestering us about this; he deserves to know.” Nancy shrugged, Jonathan reluctantly raised his hands in agreement, almost like he was surrendering to her reasonings. 
Chrissy stood there, her voice caught in her throat, mouth agape, unable to utter a coherent response. She was frozen, eyes wide with shock, while her fingers nervously fumbled with the napkin on the table, struggling to find the words to defend herself.
You reacted with a bitter, mocking disbelief, shaking your head slowly. “Shit, or was it after you blamed me for what Billy did to me? You know, making fun of my bruises and stuff?”
“What?” Eddie’s face scrunched in disgust, his eyes flickering to Chrissy, who seemed to shrink under the weight of what she did. Jonathan and Nancy watched with their mouth almost hanging open. Robin had a smug smile on her face, she bit her lip in excitement while watching everything unfold. It was like all of them had been waiting for this confrontation. 
Poor Jeff, Gareth, and Nathan just watched with a confused look, not knowing anything about the deep history between the three of you. 
Chrissy stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but once again you didn’t let her. “No, no, wait!” You were relentless, sarcasm cutting through your tone as you playfully hit your forehead in a mocking gesture. “I think it was after you made fun of my parents leaving me, what did you say they were?” You mocked a pensive expression, a dangerous glint in your eyes, “Junkies?” Your gaze narrowed, Chrissy’s stammering continued, and she turned to Eddie desperately, while her vision was getting blurry. 
The room had grown oppressively tense, no one dared to speak, Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy all wore disgusted faces, along with the surprise of you laying everything out on the table, literally. Jeff and Gareth silently oofed, even though they didn’t know anything, they knew that what Chrissy did was fucked up. 
Eddie struggled to process it, your words, the realization that Chrissy had done something worse other than trying to hook up with Billy was hard to sink into his skin.  “What the fuck are you talking about?” He repeated, his entire world almost shattering dramatically.
“Oh, didn’t your sweet, sweet Chrissy mention all that?” You weren’t holding back, every bitterness, every ugliness, you were ready to spit it all at him and Chrissy.  
And you wished it would give you satisfaction, you wished it would make you feel better.
But it didn’t. None of it felt good, none of it filled the void inside of you. None of it helped you get over the betrayal that unfolded right between your eyes. 
None of it helped you get over the cruel look Chrissy gave you when she made fun of your traumas, none of it helped you get over the fact that Eddie told you that you ruined his life, and none of it helped the way your lip trembled when you saw the two of them kiss. 
“Okay, I’ve got the syrup!” Steve chimed in, unaware of everything that had just transpired in the room, his brows furrowed when he noticed the tension, every eye on the table turned to him, except for you, Chrissy, and Eddie. 
Chrissy's desperate gaze fixed on Eddie, pleading for some form of understanding or forgiveness, but his gaze remained unwaveringly locked on you, filled with guilt. Your own eyes were cast downward, remaining on your lap, while you tried hard to fight back the tears. 
Because no matter what, Chrissy betrayed your trust, you trusted her enough to tell her what Billy did to you, and instead of getting help, she tried to kiss him, or actually did kiss him, you never found out the truth—both of them told you a different version of the story. 
She made fun of your parents leaving you. She blamed you for the things Billy did. Like it meant nothing to her. Like you meant nothing to her. 
“Did I just interrupt something-” Steve was quickly hushed by Robin, who pulled him to his seat quickly. “Pinky is confronting Chrissy!” 
“What? Now?” He whisper-yelled, putting down the syrup jar on the table, eyeing the tension between the three of you. Robin nodded, “Eddie’s trying to process all of it, and Chrissy looks like she’s about to burst into tears,” she added. 
“He didn’t know?” Steve’s brows furrowed, “Nuh-uh, don’t you remember how P made us all promise not to tell anyone? You know how she is with her personal stuff,” the two of them whispered back and forth, earning a glare from Nancy that shut both of them up. 
Eddie’s expressions were unreadable, mixed with every possible emotion as he drew a deep breath in a feeble attempt to make sense of everything. “W-what exactly happened?” With uncertainty in his eyes, he faced you, he wanted to know everything. But you didn’t dare to look at him, crossing your arms defensively against your chest—you were in no way ready to tell him anything. 
“I-I wanted to apologize to you, and I wanted to..” Chrissy’s voice trembled, she seemed apologetic, eyes glistening with guilt, but it truly meant nothing to you.
“Shit, you really don’t fucking get it, do you?” You couldn’t help but click your tongue in annoyance, hand on your forehead in disbelief. “This isn’t about your stupid apology.” 
“You knew them, Chrissy,” you continued, your voice quivering with raw emotion, “you were there with me when they left, you fucking comforted me when I cried…” All of it felt too raw for you, your chest tightening the more you remembered it all, “and then you used it as a punch line for a stupid joke, to hurt me.” 
You took a deep breath in an attempt to continue, your heart tightening the more you spoke. “You knew what Billy did to me, you saw the bruises, and you acted like none of that mattered when you kissed him!” 
“I d-didn’t—it was a misunderstanding!” She tried to defend herself, but you didn’t care. 
You were quick to get up from your seat, feeling suffocated. “God, i-it really hurt, it did.” you confessed, your voice trembling as you blinked away the tears. “But it doesn’t anymore because you were dead to me the second you uttered those words.” Your lips trembled.
“And you,” with a tone filled with bitterness, you finally turned to Eddie, really looking at him for the first time. His eyes were filled with regret, brows scrunched up together with guilt. Your hand pointed toward him accusingly, “fucking date her for all I care, you two deserve each other.” 
You stormed off to the backyard quickly, not being able to hold back the tears anymore. Eddie got up the second you did, pleading for your name. The room fell silent again, and just as he was about to chase you, Steve was quick to rise to his feet, intervening with a grab of Eddie’s arm. 
“Give her some time,” Steve’s harsh hold on Eddie’s arm had everyone eyeing them.
“Excuse me?” Eddie retorted, his gaze dangerously fiery. 
“She needs some time, Eddie.” 
“Fuck off,” Eddie warned, gaze dropping to the hold that Steve had on him, his anger simmering just below the surface.
“Man, I’m trying to be helpful right now, you’re the last person she wants to fucking see,” Steve spat, gaze narrowing as he looked at him with disgust. 
That was the breaking point for Eddie, he took a step closer, his anger ready to spill over to Steve, which wasn’t fair, but it had been building up the second he saw how close the two of you were. The smiles you threw at him. The compliments. It was stupid and so unlike him, but with everything, he couldn’t afford to lose you, not again.
And it looked like he just did. 
“That’s not any of your fuckin’ business, Harrington-”
Before the situation could escalate further, Jonathan intervened, stepping between the two of them. “Alright, alright!” he gently defused the tension. “Steve, Rob, go see if she’s okay,” He demanded, the two of them looking at him dumbfoundedly, “Go!” he exclaimed, and Robin was quick to rise from her seat, dragging Steve away from Eddie who was still throwing daggers with his looks toward Steve.
“And Eddie, I need to talk to you for a second.” Jonathan caught Eddie’s attention and tugged at his jacket to the side while Nancy quickly excused herself from the awkward table before the three of them huddled in the corner. 
Eddie was quick to shake off the hold Jonathan had on him, his anger still uncontained. “What?” His voice was raised. 
“You need to calm the fuck down,” Jonathan warned. 
“Why didn’t you guys-” He took a deep breath. “How could you guys not fuckin’ tell me?” His voice was desperate. 
“She told us not to!” Nancy added. “God, I’m such a fuckin’ idiot.” He exasperated.
Jonathan agreed with a nod, “That, you are.” Earning a glare from Eddie, he continued, “I’m sorry dude, but it’s true, you shouldn’t have paraded her around in front of Pinky.” 
“How was I supposed to know?!?”
“You weren’t,” Nancy sighed, “but you knew what happened with Billy, and that should’ve been enough, Eddie.”
Eddie shook his head to disagree, his disheveled hair hung over his forehead, barely covering his pained eyes. “If I knew, if I fucking knew for a second that s-she made fun of, shit-” His voice cracked, struggling to find the right words. The vivid recollections of your pain etched lines of hurt across his face. “God, I saw how much her parents leaving crushed her, Nance. I was there, I comforted her.” Nancy could sense the hurt in his voice. 
“Every time she came over to a Munson dinner, every time Wayne told her she was family, every time Wayne did somethin’ for her... I-I could just see how much she appreciated it. Wayne, and me…” 
His voice continued to tremble, and tears welled up in his eyes. “And I saw those goddamn bruises that fucking asshole left, s-she was shaking, Jon- I-I knew how hard it was for her, if I…”  He took a shuddering breath, voice still shaky, and gaze glistening with unshed tears.
His hands moved in agitation, desperate to defend himself and express his guilt. “If I… If I knew for one goddamn second that she made fun of that, I w-would’ve never!” He punctuated his words desperately, hands rubbing against his face in disbelief.
“I know, I know,” Nancy reassured with a soothing voice, both she and Jonathan reached out to rub his back comfortingly. “I think she’s just upset right now, Ed.” Jonathan spoke up.
“I mean can you really blame her? I know you didn’t know anything, but the moment she came back to the town, the first thing she saw was you and Chrissy kissing… it was probably a tough pill for her to swallow.” Nancy mumbled.
Jonathan was quick to add with a soft-spoken plea, “Give her some time, and then you can apologize, okay?” He nodded, trying to take all of the information he acquired in the last five minutes
“I also think you have someone else you need to talk to,” Jonathan whispered, gaze pointing toward Chrissy who had been itching to speak to him, her gaze repeatedly flickering in their direction.
And once Chrissy realized Eddie looking back at her, she was quick to get up from her seat, shoulders slumped as she approached him. She eyed the way Nancy and Jonathan gave Eddie a slight smile and a nudge on his shoulder before they left. 
Her eyes were glossy, face red. “C-can I talk to you?” She stammered.
“Y-yeah,” he conceded, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, not able to help himself when his head turned toward the sliding door, wanting to get a glimpse of you but blocked by the figure of Steve.
“I-I should’ve told you what I did.” Chrissy sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat as she took a deep breath.
“I-I’m sorry. I just…” She recollected her thoughts, “you were like the only one who didn’t know and it just… It felt nice to hang out with someone who didn’t shun me out.”
“Steve, Nancy, Jonathan… even Robin, the second they learned what I said, they didn’t even look me in the face!” Her voice cracked.
“And I know I probably deserved that but that was so long ago and I…” Her gaze fell toward the floor, she felt embarrassed, she should’ve never done that to you, and she did have her reasons, but she also knew none of them would ever justify what she said. 
“I was just miserable and bitter and P-pinky didn’t deserve any of that. I know that but…” Her head snapped up, her tearful eyes locking with Eddie’s, “I really had fun with you these past couple of days and…”
Eddie was quick to interrupt her, shaking his head, “Chrissy…” He sighed, fingers rubbing his temples in an attempt to comfort himself, it was too much, everything was too much.
And he didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to talk to her, he didn’t want some pep talk from Jonathan and Nancy, he only wanted you.
He wanted to tell you how sorry he was, and how much of an idiot he was. Even though he didn’t know anything. But he should’ve known better. He should have.
And he felt the guilt gnawing at him, consuming him from the inside.
“I really felt like we had something-” Eddie was quick to dismiss her.
“Chrissy, I’m sorry I should have never done this, I-I’m such a fucking coward.”
“W-what?” Chrissy asked, her voice breaking again, tears brimming in her eyes. “I should’ve known,” she sighed, shutting her eyes briefly to avoid the tears.
Eddie let out a confused hum. “I-I mean I kind of did, I saw the way you looked at her, the way your eyes lit up unintentionally whenever someone mentioned her. The smile you had when she talked to you… You were never ever like that with me, not even for a second.”
It took Eddie a few seconds to process that, he knew he should’ve never done anything with Chrissy, he never should’ve tried to defend her to you, he should’ve listened to you. He was an idiot. 
Chrissy was right. It was you. It had always been you. 
“I didn’t- I didn’t fuckin’ mean to but I think like back in my mind, I did all of this to make myself feel better because I knew she might be coming back and I just wanted to make myself feel like I got over her. I-I know that’s incredibly shitty and I’m sorry-” 
“So you just used me?” She spat, feeling like a pawn in a game she did not want to be a part of.
“N-no! That’s not what I tried to do! I just… I just, I’m sorry that it came off that way… I thought I could you know… do this,” he mumbled, pointing toward the space between them.
“I can’t and I never should have tried.”
“What the hell does that even mean?” He could see Chrissy’s hurt turn quickly to anger, and maybe five minutes ago, when he didn’t know what she did to you, he would’ve apologized for being a dick, and for doing something as stupid as this. But he couldn’t be apologetic to her, not anymore.
“I-it means it’s always been her, and it’s always going to be her, Chrissy,” Eddie admitted, something that he should’ve realized a long time ago, and Chrissy wanted to laugh at that.
Of course, it was going to be you, it was always you. 
Billy, and now Eddie. No matter what she did, she could never compete with you. You didn’t even have to do anything and they would devote their whole fucking life to you. 
And it pissed her off, made her bitter. Which wasn’t fair, which didn’t make what she ever did or said okay. But her mind justified it. Fueled her to say those things to you. 
Eddie, struggling to process Chrissy's words, stammered in disbelief, “I can’t even look at you after what she told me. How could you be so cruel?” The way he viewed Chrissy changed in a matter of seconds, disgust overtaking his senses. 
But Chrissy found that amusing. She chuckled bitterly, shaking her head. “Me?” She pointed an accusatory finger at him, “You just admitted that you basically used me. Jesus Christ, you’re an asshole.”
“And I’m really sorry about that,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity, “that isn’t what I intended to-“
Chrissy, still seething with anger and disappointment, didn't give him a chance to finish. “Save it.” She rolled her eyes, hand defensively pointing toward him.
Gareth, Jeff, and Nathan suddenly appeared, intruding awkwardly into the already strained atmosphere between the two of them. Gareth was the first to speak up, attempting to break the tension. He cleared his throat and said, “Uhhh- hey man, we’re gonna take off.”
“You comin’?” Jeff inquired, standing beside Gareth.
 “Uhhh, no? I need to talk to her.” Eddie replied firmly.
“Seriously? You’re still running after her?” Gareth bit back, Jeff tried to elbow him to shut him up but it was no use.
“I’ll see you guys tonight.” He said through gritted teeth, not in the mood to deal with Gareth’s hatred for you.
“Chrissy, you comin’?” Gareth was quick to turn to her, and she nodded quickly, before throwing a harsh look at Eddie.
“Jerk,” she mumbled under her breath, leaving off with them.
“I did deserve that.” Eddie sighed, mumbling to himself before he finally decided to meet all of you in the backyard.
-
You leaned back on your seat, eyes still glossy but you looked happier, a giggle leaving your lips at something Steve said. 
And it hurt Eddie to see that, it hurt because your teary eyes were all because of him, and you were giggling only because of Steve.
It wasn’t like this before, he was the one who always made you happy, he never made you cry, he never uttered horrible words to you like he did yesterday. 
Was it all doomed? 
Did the chance for the two of you pass by and both of you were too much of an idiot to realize it? Did he manage to fuck everything up with just barely two days? 
Your laughter died down the second your gaze met his, breath getting hitched in your throat. He looked guilty, those shaggy bangs falling messily on his forehead, hand stuffed into the back of his black jeans.  Walking over to you with such shyness that your gaze softened, you didn’t want to be like this with him. It was never like this before. 
But it hurt so much that you could feel your chest swell with the pain. His words, Chrissy… you couldn’t pretend like none of it happened anymore. 
“Can we talk?” 
“Dude, I just told you-” Steve was quick to interject, and it brought warmth in your stomach, the feeling nicely seeping into your skin, knowing that your friends truly cared about you, and how much they would do to protect you. 
They had done it with Chrissy, you never asked them to do anything, but the second you told any of them what happened, they didn’t even throw her a second glance when they ran into her ever again in this damned town. 
And it meant so much, knowing that there were people you could count on, a sense of protectiveness and security that your parents never provided for you. But you liked that, you liked having them, an untraditional way of family, but your family regardless. 
“Harrington, will you fuckin’-”
You interrupted both of their stupid dick-measuring competition with a sigh, “It’s okay, Steve,” you murmured, throwing him a smile before squeezing his arm gently. “We do need to talk,” you nodded off toward Eddie, dragging him off to the other side gently, away from all of them.
“Look, fuck- I’m so sorry, okay?” He started, his voice apologetic.
“Eddie, please-”
“No, no, let me talk, please,” he breathed out, desperate, his gaze mirroring yours, fingers brushing on your arms, gentle, pleading. 
“I’m sorry, I’m a fucking idiot, I’m the biggest fucking idiot in the whole world.”
“Y-you never ruined my life, okay? You could never, even if you tried your hardest. Even if you did the worst possible thing to me. I could never see you like that. I could never see the worst of you.”
“I-I shouldn’t have done what I did, I shouldn’t have brought her everywhere, and I shouldn’t have tried to defend her to you.”
“E-eddie, stop” you gulped, interrupting him, “You-you’re confusing the fuck out of me… You tell me I ruined your life, and then I read those stupid notes-”
“You read them?” Eddie’s brows raised in surprise, an idiotic grin curling on his lips.
“Of course I did.” You muttered, avoiding his gaze.
“But you said-” 
“I wanted to piss you off,” you admitted with a meek voice. 
“And what did you think?” He asked, hopeful, still feeling nervous with the way you were so calm, he knew nothing good was gonna come out of this. 
“That I-I can’t do this.” 
“I mean, the song is really great…” You muttered, and you wanted to mention the other note, how much it crushed you and how much you wished it could change anything, but you couldn’t handle it anymore. You couldn’t handle seeing him, you couldn’t handle anything about Eddie. You needed some time apart. 
“And I’m glad you realized you fucked up but I… I’m just so tired,” you sighed, licking your lips to get some sort of encouragement to say the things that you were about to say. 
“I-I can’t do this back and forth with you anymore,” you huffed. 
“I mean just look at us! I’ve been here for almost two days and look how many times we fought and then pretended like nothing happened! T-this isn’t how we used to be,” you bit on your lip, tasting the bitter taste of metallic blood, just so the tears wouldn’t spill. 
“I know…” he muttered, “but why didn’t you just tell me? Then… and even now?”
“I-I was embarrassed,” you muttered shyly. His brows scrunched, embarrassed? why would you be embarrassed for the shitty things she did?
“Why would you be embarrassed?” He asked.
“Because it was true, Eddie,” you blinked away the tears, settling with that uncomfortable feeling.
“What are you talking about, what she did was fuckin’ cruel, and if I knew-”
“N-no, it was true.” You huffed. “Deadbeat parents and an abusive ex-boyfriend… like how cliche could I fucking get?” You wanted to laugh bitterly.
“I-I’m a mess and she’s right… And so were you! It was such a gut punch when you said it to me, but you were right.” Your lip was wobbling, eyes squinted. “I-I ruined your life and-”
“No, don’t fucking say that-”
“But it is true!” You exclaimed with a sad expression, “I ruined your life and I-I should’ve never tried to re-enter it, and I should’ve left you alone.”
“I-I’m sorry, for everything, for LA, I could say that as many times as you need me to…” you sighed. “but I promise you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
“W-what?” He stuttered, still struggling to process your words.
“I told you Eddie, I don’t want to do this. As we said, we don’t have to talk to each other this weekend, and afterward, I’ll be gone.” 
“You won’t ever hear from me or see me again.” 
“But that is not what I want!” Eddie exclaimed, desperate, he didn’t want to lose you, and he was going to. There was nothing he could do to stop it. 
He already lost you once, and maybe he could blame you for that, but this one. It was all him. 
He tried to reach for your arm, to touch you again, to feel the warmth he felt a night ago like everything would be just as it was five years ago. But you were quick to take a step back away from him. 
“But it’s what I want.” You tried to speak calmly, your cracking voice fast to fail you. 
“W-what about the album cover?” 
With a touch of bitterness in your tone, you retorted, “I’m sure you can find someone much better than me.”
“C’mon, Pinky, you can’t be serious, that’s like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing-”
“I’d rather be stuck at the record store for the rest of my life,” you muttered bitterly, words cutting through him. You could see how much they were hurting him, but there was no other way, you had to protect your own feelings. 
Staying away from Eddie was the only thing you could do to stop hurting yourself and everyone else. You had already caused enough problems for everyone in the room. 
Eddie's voice turned somber as he uttered, “So, this is it?” A sense of defeat washed over him.
“We’ve been doing it for the past five years, why should it change now?”
Because I want you. 
Because I haven’t been able to do that for the past five years either. 
Because I could never stay away from you. 
Because it has always been you, from the moment we met. 
Because I love you. Always have, always will.
Was what he should’ve said, some grand speech, something to sweep you off your feet, something to change your mind. Anything. So he wouldn’t lose you again, so you could finally realize how much he cared about you, how much he would always care about you.
But nothing came out of his trembling lips, not even a sound.
He stood there, feeling as if time froze around him. Like he was stuck, everything around him moved, but he didn’t, he couldn’t.
He watched you go back to Steve. Steve comfortably threw an arm around your shoulder and let you know that you could stay here with him and that he would drive you to The Hideout tonight.
And it should have been him. Him, who offered to take you to his place. Him, you spent the rest of your day with.
Him, who you ran off to whenever you felt sad or when your heart was broken. He couldn’t accept that he was no longer the one you ran to, but the one who caused all of it. 
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✦ final authors note — OKAY. so please let me know if u want flashbacks in the next chapter bc thats what i had in mind but idk how yall feel abt flashbacks but i swear they will reveal A LOT LMAO.
also please interact/reblog/like or give me any feedback to support me ily &lt;3
permanent taglist (lmk if u want to be added): @mandyjo8719 @kellsck @batkin028 @hideoutside @sashaphantomhive @nabiiturner @andvys (ILY.) @siriuslysmoking @plk-18 @emxxblog @babyloutattoo89 @micheledawn1975 @sole-screws @joannamuns9n @trixyvixx @fangirling-4-ever @browneyes528
387 notes · View notes
babyyoda234 · 2 months
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Three Times the Batfamily has been disgusted by your love life...
Dating is hard... but dating in Gotham... Oh Brother... Here are all the times the Batfamily has been involved in your love life.
1st time: Valentines Day
I've really gotta stop going for nerdy guys. This never ends the way I want it to.
"You know Eddie. You could have bought me dinner..." I call out to the rambling rogue behind me, "Scratch that... I can list off a hundred different date ideas.... That DO NOT INVOLVE THE BATMAN."
I can hear a swift crack followed by a muffled cry.
"I like flowers... I'm sure there was a way you could incorporate a riddle with those."
Footsteps draw nearer.
"I honestly don't even think you are trying. What does a child make, but never see? Come on dude... Work on on yourself. Restraints are fun, but this is ridiculous."
Suddenly, my restraints loosen. Stumbling to my feet, I swiftly turn around to see Batman's foreboding gaze. Eddie lies face down passed out 3 feet away.
"Are you alright?" Batman questions carefully noting my lacy heart pj's on top my push up bra. My diamond question mark necklace glitters in the darkness.
"Uh... yeah... Guess I should probably find an apartment where the Riddler doesn't live next door."
Batman sighs before patting me on the back. I am weirdly comforted by the paternal look in his eyes.
"That would be for the best."
2nd time:
Nightwing raises a pointed eyebrow before covering Robin’s eyes. Robin smacks his gloved hand away.
“Come on…. Y/N…” Nightwing trails off.
I interrupt him before this can get anymore humiliating. Being left to be eaten by a man sized Venus Flytrap after a date is not how I imagined my night to go.
“I do not need a life lesson; I have work tomorrow.”
Robin dutifully unties my restraints. He carefully looks anywhere else except my green lingerie.
Nightwing clears his throat. Rummaging through fallen leaves, he asks
“Do you know where she might have left your clothes?”
I shake my head before I start searching the drawers to the nightstand. My sweaty palms create some difficulty turning the knobs.
“You know…” Nightwing continues leaning against the wall, “If you ever wanted to go on a date with someone who wasn’t going to be sent to Arkham… I’ve got this brother.”
My heart starts pounding. This is not happening. Robin’s jaw drops in disbelief.
“Are you seriously trying to set up Red Hood right now?” He gasps incredulously.
Both vigilantes listen to something being said into their ear pieces.
“Well, Jaybird. She’s prettier than anyone you’ve been talking to lately.”
My mouth gasps silently like a fish. Robin finally looks me up and down. He nods before agreeing. This child did not just....
Trying to ignore the hot waves of embarrassment, I finally force words to come out.
“GET OUT! I’ll find them myself!”
3rd time:
“Okay… but this time was not my fault.” I explain raising my hands in surrender. “How was I supposed to know that Two Faces favorite song would be ‘22’? I have to make a living somehow!”
Batgirl tries to keep a straight face, but when she glances back at Red Robin… they both burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry….” She says trying to be professional, “This isn’t funny.”
“Uh huh…” I respond narrowing my eyes at them.
Realizing my mortification, their laughter slowly dies down. The teenage vigilantes grow as serious as possible.
“So, Two Face took you captive after you dedicated 22 by Taylor Swift to him?” Robin questions analyzing the crime boss’s de office.
“Yes, I work at the iceberg lounge as a singer.”
“Where you ever an associate of Harvey Dent before his accident?”
My face goes red. This is not how I wanted today to go. I hate adding fuel to their fire.
“Something like that. I made some mistakes early in college.”
Batgirl bites her quivering lip to avoid laughing again. She checks her clip board left by Gordon.
“We’ll make sure GCPD gets back your… 2 themed underwear that went missing?”
I fantasize about those birds that slam their head underground to avoid conflict.
“I just want my computer. He can… keep the rest. I’m sure he’d like wearing it more than me.” I awkwardly trail off wrapping the robe tighter around my body.
Red Robin nods before muttering something into his ear piece.
“Okay, we’ll be on the search for that. I’m sure Red Hood can drop it off when he raids the lair tonight."
I start laughing before taking a step back. Putting my hands up, I interrupt.
“I can pick it up at Gordon’s office tomorrow. There’s… no need for… any of that.”
The two teens share a glance.
“Are you sure?” Batgirl inquires with a knowing smile in my direction.
I raise an eyebrow.
“Leave me out of this. I do not need to end up dead in crime alley because you guys thought it would be a good idea to set me up with your brother.”
Laughter can be heard in their comms. I vaguely make out “She’s got a point” in Nightwing’s voice.
With a reluctant grin, Batgirl shrugs. Before the vigilante duo leave, Red Robin flashes me an ornery grin.
“See you later.”
I respectfully flip them both off. Laughter echoes down the hallway as they leave.
264 notes · View notes
matan4il · 11 months
Text
Buddie 617 meta
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I’m gonna be honest here, this was one of the funniest 911 eps to me. I loved how this ep showed us both Buck and Eddie completely sucking at dating. It was very obvious in Buck’s case, what with each attempt to have quality time with Natalia being ruined by one of his past decisions, but then when he called out Eddie for also sucking at it, Buck wasn’t wrong. Eddie’s attempts seem half-hearted at best. First off, if he really wanted to date, then Tia Pepa’s help and dating apps are actually not that awful as options. Magic might happen there as well. The right person could even stand out more against a sea of not so great choices, turning the dreary experience into a colorful, magical one. But even when Eddie tries on his own, his attempts are LAME. Seriously, there are pastime activities that offer way more potential to start a conversation, and maybe a romance, than the ones Eddie chose. Not only that, these are not his actual hobbies, where he knows he’ll find someone who likes the same thing he does (the way he shares so much with one tall firefighter that we’re all thinking of right now. Eddie’s also being dumb about wanting it to “just happen” as if that’s not exactly what he got with buck. Also, just a friendly reminder that Buddie have been dating for almost 5 years, and they are GREAT at it when it’s with each other).
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On top of that, we for real got a guy checking Eddie out (hi, hello, should I start a collection of him checking and being checked out by guys?) as well as him witnessing a woman he was looking at being embraced by another one. Why the hints at being surrounded by queer people? Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m here for it no matter what. ;D Now, I’ve talked before about the ongoing theme of Buddie’s dating life being intertwined in terms of when they start dating someone, or of why they break up, but now in addition to them dating at the same time, we also see them simultaneously sucking at it? Yeah, that takes the connectedness of their dating life up a notch. ~~
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Which brings me to one line that grabbed my attention in this ep. THE line that offers the explicit resolution for the most important romantic plot here is the one from Gina, the insurance lady, to Chimney, about not regretting the attempt. Yes, even when the result is bad. That’s what Madney will embrace. One of the biggest obstacles to Buck and Eddie, besides their obliviousness, is the fear of ruining the good thing they have by attempting to take it to the next level. But here we have Chimney being reminded by Gina that it’s worth it, to try. Because the good thing you can have, if it works out? Is worth it. And you never have to live with the “what if” of it all. Now look at Buck and Eddie being once more adorable morons together on the job! Imagine the moment when they stop running around and let themselves try taking it to the next level, because they realize no matter what the result will be, they would never regret the attempt. ~~
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Speaking of Buddie paralleling one of the canon couples on the show who were acting lovey dovey in this ep, the way Bobby described what made him and Athena happen reminded me of Buddie connecting. In both cases, there’s an intense and upsetting call, after which one of our first responders turns to find support (Buddie promising to have each other’s back) and comfort (Eddie wants to go grab something to eat together) in the other one. ~~
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I did not miss Taylor Kelly, and true to form, she was back because she’s advancing her career by exploiting her personal connection to Buck and the exposure to the 118 it provided her. I’m pretty sure this basically buries any option of any showrunner ever trying to re-set these two as a romance, since it echoed and reinforced Buck’s decision to break up with her. It WAS funny to see her and Lucy cockblock Buck (I do think Lucy’s tone with which she spoke of their past also closes the door on anyone ever trying to set her and Buck up as a serious couple), but what I found to be funniest is that Buck tells Natalia he was trying to figure out the perfect place for their date, and then he took her to the bar where he kissed Lucy. A bar reminiscent of the one where he hooked up with Taylor. Possibly a spot where he hooked with other women during his Buck 1.0 stage based on how it’s THE hang out place for the 118 and we know Buck had no issues hooking up anywhere back then. Natalia, hon. This is not a good sign for your r/s with him. ~~
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Speaking of which, there’s an ex who didn’t come back in this ep, but her spirit loomed large over Buck and Natalia IMO, and that is Ali. The reason why she and Buck broke up after 218 is because at the end of the day, she couldn’t accept the choices he had made in his professional life (hoping he would move on from firefighting). In the same way, Natalia revealed in this ep that she can’t accept Buck’s choices in his personal life. A small reminder the only partner we’ve ever witnessed truly seeing and accepting Buck, in every aspect of his life, has been Eddie. ~~
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Another funny thing about this (911 is a comedy, y’all) is how Natalia flees the second she comes across Kameron. I mean, this is in addition to the hilarity of the death doula’s first name connecting her to birth and to all things natal, yet she flees the second that she sees a pregnant lady. Because if this is Natalia’s reaction when it comes to a bio kid that Buck explicitly said he is not going to raise, what would she do once she realizes he co-parents a fully grown kid? (and a very sassy one, too. LBR, Natalia doesn’t stand a chance in a show down with either Diaz boy) ~~
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Much like Natalia doesn’t seem like the right fit for Buck based on this ep (or based on 616), neither does Marisol. Can I point out the fact that Eddie’s disapproval in the last ep of Buck dating Natalia applies here, too? They both met these women on calls. Second, Eddie wanted it to happen naturally, which is why it’s so lame he tried through all sorts of activities that he’s not ACTUALLY into and wouldn’t continue doing past the initial stage of meeting someone else. And that holds true for Marisol as well. We saw that her brother and her are very into DYI, which I guess was meant to lay the groundwork for Eddie running into her in a DYI shop. But the thing is, Eddie himself isn’t into this! Sure, he can do it, because as a single dad he’s had to, but it’s not something we’ve ever seen him being passionate about. He’s only at this store because of Christopher’s project. And then once more, just like he steps away from Pepa’s help, dating apps and chooses the wost places for a chance romantic connection, he walks away from Marisol even when the whole scene plays out as if she’s the climax of his search throughout this whole ep. This might all hint that despite initial appearances, just like the people he came across while golfing and hiking wouldn’t be the right fit, Marisol wouldn’t be either. Even more importantly, just like Ana at first appeared like she would be perfect for Eddie in 312, starting out in a “it just happened” sort of way and with supposedly being fated because she happened to guess correctly that Eddie stands for Edmundo, this thing with Marisol might look in the moment like it’s exactly what he was looking for, but it will fizzle out as well.
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