#eddie munson best friends to lovers
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One Step Away From You (Chapter 2)
ExBestFriend!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Fem!Reader
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Chapter Summary: It's your first day back at Hawkins High. Your day goes as expected, until you see the face of your ex-best friend, Eddie Munson, at a lunch table with your younger friends.
WC: 5.7k
Warnings: MDNI. Explicit language used. Descriptions of anxiety, mentions of depression.
Notes: I've been dying to post this chapter. I've been waiting to post chapters until I have the next one finished, and it's been harder than expected to not just post them right away. This chapter features time spent with the younger kids, and Steve and Robin, as well as a little flashback. I hope you guys enjoy!
Monday, September 16th, 1985
Your eyes slowly open, taking in the dawn sky peeking through your curtains as the sun begins to rise. Your eyes shift to the clock by your bed, 5 minutes before your alarm goes off. Yawning, your hand falls to rest on your cat Henny, peacefully sleeping against your chest. You smile as you gently pet his soft black fur, enjoying the few moments of peace before you have to get ready. Moments of peace, soon interrupted by anxious thoughts about your first day back at Hawkins High. The repetitive feeling of your cat’s fur against your hand helps to keep your thoughts from spiraling too much. That is until the sudden, loud blaring of your alarm caused him to sprint off the bed in a flash. You snort out a laugh as you quickly turn off your alarm.
Stretching out all your limbs, you climb out of bed with a sigh and head to the bathroom to start your morning routine. You spend a few minutes browsing your wardrobe, deciding on what to wear for your first day outfit. Finally deciding on a pair of your favorite acid wash jeans that hug your curves, a Metallica Ride the Lightning shirt, and your trusty, worn black converse hi-tops. You turn to your vanity, beginning your usual hair and make-up routine. You kept your hair in its natural form, only adding some hairspray to your roots to add some volume. Followed by a smokey eye, winged eyeliner, mascara, and some chapstick. You grab your bag, keys, and a pack of pop-tarts, giving Henny a kiss on his head before heading out the door.
You start your truck, turning the dial of the radio until you hear the familiar sounds of Hall & Oates. You light a menthol cigarette, a habit picked up from your parents and the stress of the last few years, before backing out of your driveway. You take note of the same unfamiliar van in Uncle Wayne’s driveway as you pull out of the trailer park. As you drive down the road, singing along to Out of Touch, you feel that familiar anxious knot start to form in your stomach as you get closer to the school.
A knot that only grows when you pull into Hawkins High’s parking lot, noting all the cars and students already there. You pull into an open space in the back and park your truck, sighing as you finish your cigarette, eyes roaming among the students lingering around their cars. Starting at a new school was never easy, but starting at a new school after the year had already started was worse. Today marked the 3rd week of the school year. You hope the year was still fresh enough that no one would pay particular attention to a newer face. Who were you kidding, in a town as small as Hawkins? Of course they would notice. You groan before deciding, Fuck it, let’s get this over with. You grab your bag and begin walking toward the school entrance, not letting your eyes linger away from the main doors to meet the ones of your fellow students.
After 3 years, the halls of Hawkins High are still familiar to you, finding your way to the principal’s office easily. You enter, eyes falling onto a middle-aged woman, clad in all purple clothing and accessories as you approach her desk.
“Hi, uhm-” you cleared your throat, prompting her eyes to lift to meet yours. “It’s my first day. My mom already took care of the paperwork. I’m here to get my locker and class schedule.” You notice the way her eyes look you over, squinting scrutinizingly in the process.
“Name?” she asks, voice monotone as she reaches for a folder of papers in the desk drawer. You give your name, watching as she shuffles through them. Your eyes briefly look around, landing on the door to the Principal’s office. You can’t help rolling your eyes as you notice the plaque on the door, Principal Higgins. Can’t wait to deal with that prick again. You look back to the receptionist as she wordlessly hands over 2 papers with your locker information and your class schedule. Her eyes never look back up to you as she quickly resumes her previous task. Your body shifts awkwardly.
“Uh, thank you. Have a good one” you politely offer as you turn to leave. Rolling your eyes and muttering “Rude bitch” as you re-enter the halls and head to your first class.
Your first few classes of the day go as expected. Much to your dismay, your presence had caught the eyes and attention of a few of your peers. If it wasn’t for the fact that your presence in their classes is new, your looks would be grabbing their attention regardless. You did your best to be as unbothered as you could, ignoring their gazes and whispers as you focused on the lectures or doodling in your notebook. As you sit in your last class before lunch, you can’t help but feel frustrated at your predicament.
Moving back to Virginia in 10th grade had fucked everything up for you. To say you were devastated after the move is an understatement. You struggled to adjust; switching schools half-way through the school year, leaving behind Eddie, your Dad, and your parents' crumbled marriage. You fell into a depression and didn’t attempt to make new friends or try to pass your classes. By the end of your 10th grade year you’d failed most of your classes, causing you to be held back and having to redo the year over again. If your family had never fallen apart and you’d never moved, you would’ve graduated this past May.
There’s no point in lingering on it now, it’s done. The best thing you could do now is stay on top of your schoolwork, graduate next May and hopefully go off to college in the Fall to start the rest of your life.
Your eyes shoot up from your notebook as the bell rings, dragging you out of your thoughts. You collect your things, following your peers into the quickly crowding halls. You originally planned to spend your lunch period in the library, setting up your school planner and figuring out assignments you already needed to catch up on. However, your young friend Mike Wheeler on the other hand, insisted that you come and sit with the boys for lunch when you’d called and let them know you were back in Hawkins.
~
The cafeteria buzzes with its usual chatter, as does the Hellfire table. Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Grant discuss the latest DnD campaign, begging Eddie for details of the upcoming one this Friday. Eddie laughs bashfully, denying their requests. Until he notices the newer, younger members of Hellfire completely oblivious to their conversation, and thoroughly engaged in their own. Eddie attempts to filter out the whines of the older members.
“I’m so happy she’s back, I can’t believe it.” Dustin remarks.
“I know! You told her to come sit with us right?” Lucas directs at Mike, who eagerly nods his head in response.
“Yeah, has anyone seen her yet?”
The other two boys shake their heads.
“I could’ve sworn I saw her on my way to 3rd period but I wasn’t sure” Dustin adds.
“Man. It’s nice we’ll actually get to go to school together, at least for this year.” Lucas says, referencing the few years you have on them.
It’s a rapid fire conversation Eddie can barely hear. Just when he’s about to interrupt and ask who the hell they’re talking about,
“Oh wait, there she is!”
Eddie’s eyes follow to where the younger boys’ eyes and small waves are directed toward, eyes landing on you.
Eddie’s movements freeze, breath hitching in his throat as he watches you. It’s like everything moves in slow motion. Your eyes quickly scan the cafeteria, uncertainty sketched across your face. Until your eyes catch the younger boys, and a breathtaking smile spreads across your face that knocks the air right out of his goddamn lungs. You giggle softly as you begin to walk towards them. And all Eddie can do is fucking stare.
He has to force himself to blink multiple times to make sure he’s not dreaming. It’s really you. What the fuck, it’s you?? He could only watch in disbelief, brain short circuiting. In the nearly 3 years that had passed, you really didn’t look much different at all. You did seem more confident, comfortable in yourself. Your features had matured a bit more too, but you still had that same baby face; pink, chubby cheeks and soft jawline. Only now your hair is a few shades lighter and you’re sporting a nose ring. Your body had filled out more too, the same body Eddie had practically gawked over seen from his bedroom window yesterday. Now that he has a view from the front, he can’t stop his eyes from fully looking you over. From your gorgeous face, to the faint outline of your plush stomach through your Metallica shirt, to your thick thighs that rubbed against each other as you walked. Eddie was still frozen in place as you finally approach the table, eyes not having met his yet.
You greet the younger boys with a smile,
“Hey buds” you exclaim happily. Your arms wrap around Mike and Lucas, giving them both a half hug before rounding the other side of the table to Dustin, ruffling his hair playfully.
“How’s freshman year treating y’all?” You ask genuinely. You can’t deny that you had worried a bit for them. Freshman year can be rough, especially for a ‘freak’.
“Good”
“Eh”
“Not so bad” Mike shrugs, “the club has helped.” His head gestures to the other, older boys at the rest of the table.
Your eyes follow, noting the other boys’ eyes are already on you, watching in subtle curiosity. Your eyes land on the boy sitting at the head of the table. Hair long, dark, and wild. An unreadable expression on his face, dark brown eyes boring into yours.
Eddie. Fuckkkk.
Your eyes widen slightly, smile faltering as you try to swallow the lump that just lodged itself in your throat. You try your best to put on a genuine smile, only partially effective as an awkward half smile tugs at your lips.
“Hey, Eddie” you offer with a small nod.
His mind finally snaps out of its daze, reality and resentment setting in. He coughs lightly, clearing his throat as his features and gaze harden.
“Y/N” he offers, voice cold as he snatches his gaze from yours. He resumes eating his pretzels, as if your very presence didn’t just shatter his world as he knew it.
“You guys know each other?” Lucas asks curiously.
Dustin turns his head to look up at you behind him, eyes widening.
“Wait… Eddie? As in THE Eddie… that taught you DnD?” Dustin asks.
You give him a tight lipped smile as you nod,
“The one and only.”
You begin to fidget on your feet uncomfortably, stomach turning.
“I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots until now.” Dustin breathes out slowly.
“Whoa… you should totally join and play with us!” Mike quickly adds.
Abort mission. Abort mission. Your thoughts scream at you.
“Oh, that’s alright.” You dismiss him quickly with a smile and small wave of your hand, “Anyway, I just came by to say ‘Hi’ to you guys real quick. I gotta get going.”
You’re greeted with a chorus of groans from the younger boys. You offer a small nod and tight-lipped smile to the older boys. Your eyes briefly glance at Eddie, whose eyes haven’t left his pretzels since first leaving yours. You tell the younger boys you’ll see them later as you begin to walk off towards the exit. Finally releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. A breath that’s quickly catching in your throat again as you hear fast footsteps approaching from behind you and feel a hand on your shoulder. You relax as you turn and see Dustin’s face.
“Hey, wait. So reaalllly quick. Lucas and Mike wanted me to ask if you wouldn’t mind giving us a ride home after school?”
“Seriously man?” You let out a genuine laugh, caught off guard.
“Oh, come onnn. You remember how much it sucks to ride the bus! Pretty pretty please??” Dustin asks, putting on the best puppy eyes he can manage. You roll your eyes and groan playfully at him.
“Fine, but whoever gets to my truck first gets to sit in the cab with me, the last 2 are stuck in the truck bed” you add.
If you’re gonna be stuck giving them a ride, you’d at least get some entertainment out of watching them race for the best seat. Dustin salutes you before scurrying back to the Hellfire table as you turn and walk out of the cafeteria as quickly as your legs can take you.
Gareth, Jeff, and Grant share curious, confused, but knowing glances at each other and Eddie. Picking up on the undeniable tension in the air between him and this girl. Feeling their eyes on him, and before Gareth can even open his mouth, Eddie’s hand shoots up to cut him off.
“Don’t.”
They’d drop it for now, but Eddie knew it was only a matter of time before it was brought up, whether by them or the newer members whom you seemed to know so well.
~
Shitshitshit! Your thoughts rapidly fly through your head as you hightail it to the library to spend the remainder of your lunch. Eddie’s was the last face you expected to see at school, in Hawkins. Let alone sitting at a table, in a DnD club with your young friends. What the hell is he still doing here anyway? Remember that comforting, hopeful feeling you had? It was long gone now, dissipating at the sight of your old best friend. Crumbling into ashes as your eyes met his, his face even more beautiful than you remembered… and hardened as he saw you.
You were so confused. Last you knew of Eddie was that he had hooked up with some girl who worked for a record company in LA, recording a demo tape for a record deal back in Spring 84’. At least that’s what you and Eddie’s friend from the trailer park and Corroded Coffin's drummer, Ronnie had relayed to you over the phone. You’d asked her not to give you any more updates about him after that, the news making your stomach drop. When she went off to NYU later that year, you figured the band had just replaced her with a new drummer.
You enter the library and head towards an old spot of yours, a table in the back tucked between bookshelves rarely perused by your peers. Your head falls into your hands as you plop down into a chair, sighing deeply as you attempt to calm your thoughts and breathing. All those thoughts and feelings about Eddie you’d tried to bury over the last few years were now clawing their way out of the grave and overtaking your mind.
You feebly try to push them down again. You look at the lunch you had packed for yourself. Knowing you couldn’t stomach it right now, you pull out your planner and syllabi from your earlier classes. It only leads to your thoughts of Eddie and your school work hashing it out in your head for your undivided attention. You sigh again, already knowing which will be the winner. Leaning back in your chair, you think about how exactly you got here. How the best friend you’ve ever had could barely make any eye contact with you, and the sight of him made you have a near panic attack.
~
It had been a cloudy day in early December 1982, when you dragged your feet across the road to the Munson trailer. Sprinkles of rain began to fall, soaking into your hair as you dreaded breaking the news to your best friend. You willed away the tears that were already building in your eyes before you could even step onto Uncle Wayne’s porch. A few moments after your weak knocks on the door, it opened to reveal your best friend. His signature cheeky smile plastered on his face, quickly slipping away when he noted the somber look on yours.
“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” He asked softly, hand reaching for your arm as he stepped out the trailer to join you on the porch. You couldn’t look him in the eyes, you knew as soon as you did you wouldn’t be able to stop the waterfall.
“I’m leaving, Eddie…” you mutter, voice soft and cracking.
“Leaving? W-What do you mean?” Eddie asks, confusion seeping through his voice and features. You gulp, trying to calm yourself before you continue. “Is it your dad? Is he giving you guys problems? I told you, you can come to me and Wayne if he-”
“No-No. He’s in the tank for a DUI right now a-and Mom thinks… it’s perfect timing to just get away, put some distance…” you manage to get out. You take a deep breath before willing yourself to look up and finally meet his eyes. “We’re moving back to Virginia.”
Your eyes search his as yours begin to well with tears. Finally saying the words to him made it real, definite, final. He sighs deeply, a small frown pulling at his lips.
“C’mere…” He whispers, pulling you into his chest as his arms wrap around and squeeze you tightly. His gesture causes your tears to fall freely. You almost feel bad that you’re no doubt soaking his shirt and leaving behind an embarrassing wet spot, but the feeling of his arms around you and the sad, anxious thoughts flying through your mind distract you from it.
“It’s gonna be okay” he says reassuringly, a hand softly rubbing up and down your back.
After a minute he pulls back, hands holding both of your arms as he looks at you with a small smile.
“They have phones back in Virginia, right?” he asks, joking lightly. Anything to lessen the frown and tears streaking your cheeks. You smirk softly in response, nodding your head as you wipe your tears. “Then it’ll be okay. We’ll call a-and talk about school, new records, DnD campaigns… that dick Higgins” A brief, wet laugh escapes your mouth at his words.
“all the things we talk about now. I promise.” He finishes, moving one of his hands from your arm to extend his pinky finger out to you. A long playful gesture you’ve done since meeting in 4th grade. You take a moment to let his words and optimism sink in.
You wrap your pinky finger around his, offering back a small smile. “Promise.”
~
The bell signaling the end of the lunch period pulls you out of your memory. You collect your things, taking your place in the halls among your peers as you head toward your next class. Only 3 more periods to get through, that’s it. Just 3. Then you can go home, and dig into your stash for some relief from this whirlwind of a day. You take a deep breath and put on a brave face as you walk into your English class. You’re one of the first students there, quickly grabbing an open seat in the back. Settling in, you pull out your notebook from your bag, facing toward the front of the class just as a patched denim jacket catches your eye. Eddie saunters in, dropping ungracefully into a seat in the back, 2 rows away from you. This can’t be happening. You lace your fingers together, resting your mouth against them as you stare at the board, not daring to let your eyes wander towards the long haired boy.
A soft gasp coming from your right grabs your attention,
“Hey, I know you! Scoops Ahoy right?” You look over the girl as she takes a seat next to you. She looks familiar, you’d definitely seen her a few times while you were working at Scoops this summer. Donna? Denise? Debbie? You tried remembering the girl's name, knowing Steve had mentioned it at some point.
You clear your throat before answering, “Yeah, mhm. That’s me.”
“Oh my gosh. I still can’t believe what happened with the fire. I mean, a grease fire? From that god awful Hot Dog on a Stick place? Still so crazy to me.” She states, shaking her head in disbelief. You nod softly in response.
“Yeah, tell me about it. Guess they never learned grease and water don’t mix.” You breathe out a soft laugh, “Not an experience I’ll forget anytime soon, that’s for sure.”
“For sure, I bet! Hey, I thought I remembered Steve saying something about you just visiting for the summer… I’m guessing you’re here to stay?”
You were a little taken aback at how kind she’s being. She seemed nice enough buying ice cream, but holding a full on conversation with you in a classroom was unexpected. By the looks of her, she wouldn’t be considered a ‘freak’ by any means. Not popular, but not an outcast either.
“Yeah that’s right, at least until graduation.” you respond with a soft smile that she quickly returns.
“Cool. Well anyway, I’m glad you guys made it out okay.”
“Thanks, me too” You finish as she settles into her seat, just as Ms. O’Donnel begins to speak at the front of the class.
As you settle back into your own seat, your cheeks warm. He didn’t hear that, did he? You try to pay attention to Ms. O’Donnel as she discusses The Catcher in the Rye when you can feel eyes on you. Taking in your peripheral vision confirms it. Yep, he definitely heard that. Eddie is practically staring daggers at the side of your face before scoffing, shaking his head and looking toward the front of the class.
It takes every fiber of his being to not storm out of the classroom right in that moment, but he actually wanted to try and graduate this year, so he stays. Leg rapidly bouncing, biting down his already short nails just to attempt to calm the nerves and emotions raging through his body. Seeing you again, then to overhear that you had been visiting Hawkins in the summer this whole time… it’s too much for him to process. He’s hurting, fucking heartbroken actually, but that’s being overshadowed by anger. He knew it. Part of him never wanted to fully admit it to himself, but now he knows it’s true. You had truly abandoned him. He’s never blamed you for moving back to Virginia. That wasn’t your fault. You had no control over it, and he knew that. What he could never understand though, was why a couple months after you’d moved, you stopped calling and returning his calls. He used to go over and over in his head if he had done something, said something wrong and could never think of anything. He had tried not to let himself linger on it for too long and put on a tough front. He had been wrong about you, he’d decided. You were just like all the other people in his life that just hurt and abandoned him. That’s what he had to tell himself to move on and not drive himself crazy. Even if part of him didn’t, wouldn’t believe it. Well now he knows. You’d been visiting in the summers this whole time, and never bothered to tell him or see him? He still doesn’t understand why, but now he knows that he was right.
As soon as the bell rings, Eddie’s the first out of his seat and out of the door. You take a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to crawl in a hole and hide, the undeniable feeling of guilt overtaking you. You know you can’t, however. You’re going to have to tough it out for 2 more periods. Eddie doesn’t even attempt it, immediately walking out to his spot in the woods behind the school to smoke, to try to calm his body and mind so he can at least try to attend his last class of the day.
Art happens to be his last class of the day, a class that he notices upon entering, is another he has to share with you. If you had known your first day was going to go like this, you would’ve just stayed in bed with Henny all day. You shake your head to yourself, knowing this is something you won’t be able to avoid and run away from for long. Is that something you even want? You tended to avoid conflict and confrontation at all cost… but you love Eddie. You miss Eddie. You know things are the way they are because of you. You have to take responsibility for it. You had known dropping contact with Eddie might hurt him, but you told yourself it probably wouldn’t bother him that much and he’d move on quickly. The insecure part of your brain told you, you probably didn’t mean as much to him as he did to you. Seeing his reaction today at lunch, and in class overhearing of your summer visits he wasn’t included in, tells you you’re dead wrong. What the hell am I going to do? How am I going to fix this?
When the bell rings this time to signal the end of the school day, you’re the first out of your seat and the classroom. Stopping at your locker to collect the last of your things into your bag before heading to the front doors. Stepping outside you take a deep breath of fresh air, digging for your pack of cigarettes and quickly lighting one. You close your eyes as you blow out the smoke, immediately feeling slightly calmer.
Then, just as if the gods have heard your plea for some lightness to this quickly souring day, you spot a familiar BMW pulling into the front of the school. You can’t deny the smile that quickly appears on your face. You put out your cig before Robin inevitably joins, knowing her distaste for it. You stroll over to the car as Steve parks it, already jumping out of the driver's seat to wrap you in a tight hug. You giggle, hugging him back.
“Hey, haircut. Miss me that much already?”
“Hush it, Y/L/N.” Steve quips. A split second later, you hear a rapidly approaching squeal before a body is pushed against your back, effectively putting you in the middle of a human sandwich hug.
“Oh, Y/N! Thank god you’re here. I didn’t know how much more of Steve I could bear on my own!” Robin exclaims exasperatedly, resting her head on top of yours. You let out a belly laugh, enjoying the comfort of their presence and hugs before begging them to let you go.
“So, how was your first day back?” Steve asks as you both lean back against his car.
You roll your eyes, sighing as you shake your head.
“That’s the last thing I wanna talk about right now” When they meet you with concerned, sympathetic looks, you add “It’ll be alright though. I’m just so happy to see you guys, it‘s just what I needed.” You offer them a genuine smile.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the familiar curls of Dustin rushing out of the front doors of the school. Eyes quickly scanning the parking lot before landing on you. You point toward your truck in the back of the parking lot.
“Black truck!” you shout, trying to hold back your laughter as you watch his eyes follow your finger before scurrying across the parking lot.
“Uh, HELLO, Henderson?!” Steve exclaims, arms thrown in the air in disbelief.
“I don’t have time for you right now, Steven!!” Dustin shrieks in response, dodging other student bodies as he races for the best seat. You can’t hold it in anymore at that, throwing your head back in laughter with Robin.
“Jeez. Guess I’m chopped liver, then.” Steve scoffs, shaking his head as he looks back over to you two.
“Oof. That’s rough, bud. How will your fragile ego ever recover?” Robin remarks, rubbing Steve’s arm in fake sympathy.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”
You notice Mike and Lucas run out of the school seconds later, playing out the same actions as Henderson. Cursing when they see Dustin’s already ahead of them.
“Oh, Y/N! You should totally apply to Family Video and work with us!” Robin exclaims excitedly.
“Yeah, it’ll be the three amigos again!” Steve adds, eliciting a groan and eye roll from Robin who lightly pushes him.
“Dingus”
“While I would love nothing more, I already promised my aunt I’d work for her at the restaurant” You respond with a pout. “But, you can definitely count on me coming in to bother y’all on your shifts.”
They have a shift this afternoon so you part ways, hugging them goodbye with promises to talk later. Steve insists he wants to hear all the details about your day, when you’re ready to share of course. You smile, waving them off as you walk toward your truck. The 3 boys crowding around the passenger door, bickering with each other.
“Dustin was here first. You two in the back, no arguments!” You state simply as you unlock the doors. As everyone gets settled, you quickly flip through your cassettes, putting in Motorhead’s Overkill album. As you begin to pull out from your parking spot, your eyes briefly land on Eddie. He stands at the front of the school, leaning against a pillar as he smokes a cigarette. Gareth is talking to him, but his eyes are on you. Catching the events of the last few minutes, cozying up with Steve Harrington of all people. You notice Gareth’s eyes follow Eddie’s to yours before you quickly return your focus to getting the hell away from this school.
When you pull up to a red light, you open the small back window.
“Whose house am I dropping y’all off at?”
“Mine is fine!” Mike responds, “We’ve got some homework to work on.”
You nod before a thought pops into your head.
“Hey” you turn your head slightly to look at Dustin and the boys in the back, “How is Max doing? I didn’t see her today.”
The boys are quiet for a moment, pondering what to say, causing your eyebrows to furrow in worry.
“She’s uh- she took everything that happened at the mall… Billy… pretty hard.” Mike finally says.
“She doesn’t really hang out with us much anymore. Her and her mom moved into the trailer park actually.” Dustin adds quietly.
“She broke up with me.” Lucas says after a few moments, unable to hide the sadness in his voice.
Your eyes widen in shock for a moment before you fully turn your head back, eyes meeting Lucas.
“I’m really sorry, bud. She probably just needs some time. I’m sure you guys will be able to work things out.” You offer sympathetically, Lucas giving you a soft nod and half-smile in return.
You sigh, elbow resting on the bottom of your window frame, driving again as the light turns green. You make a mental note to figure out which trailer she’s moved into, keep an eye out for her at school and check in on her. Hearing she’s pulled away from the group and broke up with Lucas worries you, you don’t want her to have to go through this struggle alone.
Dustin breaks the silence a few moments later.
“Sooooo, what’s up with you and Eddie?” you choke out a laugh and shake your head. Real smooth, Dustin. “I mean, from the way you used to talk about him, you two seemed really close. But I picked up on that tension at lunch. Something happened, I know it.” he prods further, like this was a mystery he’s determined to insert himself in and solve.
“Nosey much, Henderson?” you say, side-eyeing him.
“I’m just saying. We’re close with you… and now Eddie is our dungeon master, we’re getting close with him… things could get sticky if there’s some tension there, which I know for a fact there is.”
“Oh is that so?” you retort, feeling relief as you pull into the boys’ neighborhood, knowing there isn’t as much time as Dustin would like to continue pushing you for information. “Dustin, I love ya. But respectfully, it’s none of your damn business, bud.” You finish, scrunching your nose at him teasingly. He puts his hands up defensively, dropping the conversation as you pull up to Mike’s house. You bid them farewell with a smile and wave as they thank you for the ride.
You might have sped on the drive back to your trailer, just a little bit. You still have a few more hours till your mom gets home, and you want nothing more than the comfort of home and the familiar green plant in your lungs after your day. You don’t spare a glance at the trailer across the street as you pull in, quickly hopping out of the truck and unlocking the front door. You groan in relief as you quickly rid yourself of your bra and jeans, slipping into your comfy house shorts. You grab a blunt you pre-rolled, a lighter, and your portable radio before walking out the back door and sitting on the back steps. You’re grateful your small backyard is obscured from the views of your neighbors by some trees and bushes as you light your blunt. You lean back against the stair railing, listening to the sounds of Fleetwood Mac as you let the calming effects of your weed start to take over. Even as your body and mind calm, a single question repeatedly pushes into your thoughts.
How am I going to fix this?
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By the grace of Robin Buckley, Steve gets into college.
She's his first real friend and it's because he knows her, loves her, learned to be a better person from her, that he's able to smile politely and take the hand of his new roommate. His long-haired, tattooed, dressed in all black roommate, who has already put up dark and menacing posters of bands Steve has never heard of and a bedsheet banner with the words "Corroded Coffin" painted on the fabric.
"Eddie Munson," his roommate says.
"Steve Harrington."
"Good to meet you, roomie." Eddie smiles so big it makes dimples pop. It's a good look. "Parents on the way with the rest of your stuff?"
"Oh, er--just me, actually."
Eddie's smile doesn't waiver. "Need some help?"
Normally, Steve would say no, but he just spent the last hour unloading Robin's stuff. "That would be great, thanks."
So, they work together to get Steve moved in, and as they work, he learns more about his roommate. He is a weirdo, an oddball, fundamentally strange, but Steve can't help but be charmed.
Eddie puts on music, something aggressive with loud guitars and drums, and Steve unpacks. He pulls out a picture of himself with the kids during one of their game nights, displaying it carefully on his desk.
"Wait," his new roommate says. "You? And the dnd children?"
Steve laughs. "They're the kids I babysit. You play that nerd game?"
Eddie's nose wrinkles. Something in the back of Steve's mind notes that it's cute. "Nerd game? Dnd is So. Much. More. It's--it's storytelling and strategy and--" Eddie stops, blinking at Steve. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
"Little bit," Steve smiles.
"I can't believe you know dnd. That you babysit nerds. You look like such a jock," Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.
"I am a jock," Steve agrees. "And I love those dorky little shitheads. I tolerate the game."
"Steve Harrington. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
"Guess so." The smiles they share are wide and sweet, bringing out Eddie's dimples in way that makes Steve long to touch.
After that, they're inseparable. Robin and Eddie and Steve. They study, eat, go to parties, hangout; anything, as long as they're together.
---
Three weeks into the semester, as Steve gets dressed after swim practice, he pulls a shirt out of his bag that doesn't belong to him. It's a black tee, Metallica logo front and center. He chuckles, puts it on. It's soft from wear and smells of laundry detergent and Eddie--cigarettes and leather and some kind of sweet musk. The scent puts him at immediate ease.
He meets Robin and Eddie for lunch. They were early, already have their food and seats, so he walks over to drop off his backpack. Eddie gives him a bright, dimpled smile, but within seconds his mouth is falling open a little, the tips of his ears turning bright red.
"You alright, man?" Steve asks.
Eddie startles, grabs his cup, jamming the straw into his mouth to chew at the plastic."You're--my shirt?" he says.
"Oh, shit. Sorry. Grabbed it by accident. I'll wash it for you."
His roommate flushes pink. "N--no, you don't have to worry about it."
He wants to question Eddie further--he's being so weird--but Robin interrupts. "Dingus! Go get food. Hurry up!"
He does as he's told, but when he comes back, Eddie is even redder than before, and Robin has a wide smirk across her face.
"What is going on with you two?" He asks as he puts his tray down.
Neither of them answer, andEddie launches into a passionate re-telling of some music student drama, so Steve let's himself be distracted.
---
It's mid-October and Steve's coming home from the gym, the one place that Robin and Eddie refuse to accompany him. As he nears his room, he hears music. It's not heavy metal, but something soft and slow and acoustic.
He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door and enters, doesn't want to disturb Eddie, doesn't want him to stop playing. He never practices when Steve is home, says he doesn't want to be a bother with the noise.
Eddie's sitting on his bed, guitar in hand. There's a battered notebook open next to him, a pencil held between his teeth. He hums a bit, pauses to jot something down, and goes back to playing.
He looks beautiful, Steve thinks, bent over his guitar.
Steve is just about to announce himself when Eddie stops playing again. He writes something in the notebook before resting his head in his head. "Pathetic, Munson. Get it together," he mutters.
"Hi!" Steve says. It startles Eddie, who jumps and almost drops the guitar.
"Stevie!" Eddie stumbles to his feet. "I--uh--you're home!" His face is crimson.
"You're really good, man," Steve says. "I'd love to hear more sometime."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Eddie nods his head, grabbing for the notebook and slamming it closed. "Sure thing." He stuffs his feet into his Reeboks. "I gotta--I gotta go. Back soon."
Eddie stumbles out their door, notebook clenched firmly in hand.
He is so weird.
---
In mid-November, Robin gets invited to a party by a cute girl. They all go.
Steve isn't trying to hook up. He hasn't slept with anyone since they started school, too caught up with Robin and Eddie. But there's a girl, wavy brown curls and wide green eyes (he has the fleeting thought that they should be deep brown, that it's wrong that they aren't), and she's smiling at him.
Flirting with her is easy.
He doesn't know what breaks his concentration, but he turns to face the rest of the room, eyes falling on Eddie. Eddie who is watching him, his deep brown eyes swimming with hurt, with anger.
It sends a shock of pure panic up his spine. "Eddie!"
Eddie turns on his heel, disappearing in the crowd. Steve follows, but by the time he navigates through the partygoers, his roommate is nowhere to be found. He hurries back to their dorm, heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry.
It's dark in the room, though, and for a second he thinks Eddie isn't home, after all. But he turns on the light, illuminates the rigid lump under Eddie's quilt.
"Eddie?" Steve says, voice soft.
He doesn't respond, though Steve can tell he's awake. He tries again, but Eddie curls deeper under his covers.
Steve spends the night wondering what he did to hurt Eddie so bad.
---
They're back to normal after Thanksgiving. Steve is so relieved he doesn't even ask.
They stay up all night every night studying for finals. By the time Steve's last test rolls around, he's giddy and frantic. He grabs his textbook, shoves a notebook into his backpack, gets to the English building with just enough time to take a last look at his notes.
Only, he flips the notebook open and it's not his English notes. It's song lyrics.
Steve should close it. Put it back in his backpack. It's private. But he's already reading the lyrics written there. They're sexy. The song's about a guy, one Eddie seems to be totally gone for.
A line catches his eye, "need you on every surface in our room." He reads it again and again until the only thing he can see is the phrase, "our room." His whole body is warm, heat pooling, and he's chubbing up in his jeans in the middle of his English class.
Steve flips the pages, anything to get his mind off of that song, and that's when it hits him like a ton of bricks. All those weird moments--the t-shirt, the song, Steve flirting with a girl-- Eddie likes him.
Steve wants to rush to the dorm, wants to confess everything, even starts to stand, but--he has a final to take.
He makes himself close the notebook, but catches sight of another song as he does. It's a love song. It's plaintive and yearning and wanting. And every lyric is for him, about him, about things they did together. It's also unfinished, breaking off mid-way through the second verse.
He doesn't know how he missed it before, but as the professor hands out the test paper, Eddie is all he can think of.
---
When he finally gets back to the room, he finds Eddie's frantic, hair frizzed around his skull. All his bedding is on the floor, the drawers of his wardrobe pulled open.
"Eddie?" Steve asks.
"Have you seen my notebook?"
"What?" Steve's heart drops.
"The black one? It's kind of beaten up?"
"I--uh, yeah. Sorry, Eds. Accidentally grabbed it on my way to class." He pulls his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it.
"Did you--did you read it?" Eddie's voice shakes, his face painfully red.
Steve doesn't know what to say, what to do. He wants Eddie. Has for a long time, just hadn't been able to put it together. And he doesn't know how to fix what's spiraling out between them.
"Eddie," he says. Can think of nothing else, hopes his desperation is clear in his voice. "Please." He closes the distance between them, slowly, carefully. Cups Eddie's chin in his hand.
They stare at each other, Eddie's eyes wide with shock. Steve can feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the tobacco and sweet musk scent of him.
"Every surface of our room, huh?" Steve asks.
Eddie's cheeks flush. He turns away, bashful. "Something like that."
"And if I want it too?" Steve whispers.
The words hang between them for several beats, before they both move to close the lingering distance between them. Their mouths slip together, like it's nothing, like they do this all the time. Steve grasps at Eddie's curls, fists a hand into his t-shirt, totally lost to the rhythm of the kiss, the easy slip of Eddie's tongue in his mouth.
Eventually, the come up for air, both pink cheeked and panting.
"You're full of surprises, Steve Harrington." Eddie breathes.
"Just wait," Steve smirks, moves in to nip at Eddie's bottom lip. "We have so many surfaces."
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#ficlet#oneshot#college au#best friends to lovers#fluff#eddie has a terrible crush#steve is oblivious#platonic stobin#a little angst#misunderstanding#they're all besties#eddie writes songs about steve#secret crush#and they were roommates
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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI
Eddie Munson x Reader • Eddie is stressed out and hasn’t been able to make himself come while jerking off. Luckily, his best friend (you!) is there to help ♥️
If your friendship with Eddie hadn’t been so…comfortable…then maybe the question you asked him would have come across as strange. But the two of you had known each other forever, and felt safe discussing anything and everything. So when Eddie confided in you that he was feeling completely burned out and stressed from drama with one of his band mates, you naturally wanted to help.
“It’s just-.” Eddie stretched his arms over his head, lying back on the sofa beside you. “-It’s really got me down, (y/n). I hate conflict, you know? And especially with someone who’s a part of the band.”
You nodded understandingly as Eddie continued. “I don’t think I’ve been this stressed-ever. I can’t even jerk off anymore, which is just absolutely unfair.” Eddie laughed, but you could tell he was trying to play off something that was genuinely troubling him.
“So, you can’t come?” you asked, and Eddie nodded. “Yeah, I get hard and everything, but when I get close, it just-.” He blew a little raspberry. “Gone.”
“Well maybe I can help?” you offered. Eddie’s eyebrows raised. “You mean like…help?” He waved a hand below his waist. “With this?”
“Mm-hmm,” you replied. “If you’d be okay with it. And, if you’re not, that’s cool-.” You shook your head. “I realize this is something we’ve never done before, so if the idea is gross, just forget I ever-.”
“-No,” Eddie interrupted, his voice softer. “It’s not gross. Not at all. Actually…” Eddie shrugged, his lips turning upward. “It sounds kind of nice...”
A silence settled between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Eddie scooted just a little closer, till his knee was touching yours. “So, how would we do this?” he asked. You could tell he was nervous, and you were, too. But the nervousness held a kind of sweetness, an innocence that only friends as close as you and Eddie could share. Maybe this situation would have been dirty, or taboo in any context other than the bond you and Eddie shared. But as it was, all things considered, the idea of helping your best friend get off didn’t seem weird at all…
“I guess we could start with a kiss?” you suggested, before breaking into a giggle. Eddie did as well, because the whole situation was a little surreal. “Um, okay,” he grinned, leaning in and placing his hand on your cheek. There was a brief moment of awkwardness, of giggly hesitation and noses bumping…but then, when Eddie’s lips pressed soft and warm to yours, the giggles and hesitation ended immediately.
Clumsy movements were replaced with delicate gestures, tongues gently exploring a world that felt both familiar, and brand new. Eddie’s fingers curled inside your hair, a nod of dominance that was so subtle, you would have missed it if it hadn’t stirred a heat between your legs. Eddie shifted his weight on the couch, his knee against yours nudging your legs apart slightly. His thumb massaged soft circles along your cheek, fingers coiled in your hair, his tongue gently wrestling with yours.
You took Eddie by the wrist and guided his hand lower, till he was palming your breast. He groped your soft skin with an intensity that had your nipple poking through the fabric of your shirt to meet Eddie’s palm. He groaned into your kiss as he felt your nipple hardening under his touch. The heat between your legs had shifted to an ache, a bittersweet pain that you tried to soothe by clenching your thighs together. The pressure wasn’t enough; you knew you’d need to come in order for the ache to go away.
As if proving just how in sync the two of you were, Eddie asked “can I touch you?” And you nodded your consent as Eddie’s fingers left your tit in exchange for the warm space between your thighs. He cupped his fingers together and slid them beneath your pussy, cradling your sex in his palm. He was massaging you through your clothes, but it felt so good you’d swear Eddie was touching your skin. His kiss moved to your neck, softly sucking between his lips as his mouth traveled over your shoulder.
“Fuck, Eddie,” you breathed, your voice like a prayer. He grinned against your shoulder, his mouth open and teeth lightly pressed to your skin. Eddie’s tongue swept a long and languid stroke up your neck and around the curve of your chin, his hand continuing to work between your thighs. You bucked your hips upward, humping against the heel of Eddie’s palm. The friction through your jeans added to the intensity. “That’s right, (y/n),” Eddie purred against your cheek. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?”
And Eddie was right. The aching tension between your legs reached its peak, your climax shattering through you in waves. Eddie never stopped massaging your cunt throughout your orgasm, letting you rut into the base of his palm. You came down softly from your high, your skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat. Eddie was smiling at you warmly as he removed his hand from between your legs. “Feel better?” he asked, but you didn’t answer with words. Instead, you pushed Eddie back against the couch, making him chuckle in surprise. As before, his laughter died quickly the instant your hand closed over the outline of his erection bulging in his jeans.
Eddie drew in a sharp breath as you groped his cock through his pants. It had been awhile since anyone had touched him; Eddie needed this. His toes were curling in his socks as you massaged him, pretty little grunts spilling from his lips. You curved your palm around the outline of Eddie’s cock, rubbing from his base to his tip with a firm, steady pressure. He closed his eyes and let his head rest on the back of the couch as you worked him.
Eddie lifted his hips so he could rub upward into the curve of your hand. You knew Eddie was close when his eyebrows pulled together, and the sounds he was making rapidly changed from grunts to a string of curses. Eddie’s cock pulsed against your palm, a wet patch blooming in the crotch of his jeans. You watched Eddie’s cum darken the fabric, his hands balled into fists by his sides, the veins in his neck strained.
When his cock stopped twitching and his body relaxed, Eddie was panting and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Feel better?” you asked playfully, echoing his words from before. Eddie tugged you in for a kiss, grinning against your lips. “Shut up,” he chuckled, before pulling you back onto the couch for cuddles…
#stranger things#stranger things smut#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie smut#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fic#eddie fic#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#Eddie Munson x you smut#eddie x you#best friend!eddie munson#best friend!eddie#eddie munson filth#eddie stranger things#eddie x y/n#eddie x fem!reader#joseph quinn#eddie fanfic#best friends to lovers#stranger things fanfiction#st4#stranger things four#stranger things season 4#friends to lovers
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Could i request maybe a thing were theyre taking care of eddie after the upside down, hes sleeping on a pull out at bestfriend readers house, waynes at work, and theyre both in separate rooms, the reader is touching themselves and the walls are alot thinner than she realised, he can hear every whimper and eep she tries to cover and all the wet sounds
Eddie hasnt been able to touch himself for a long time because hes been too busy with recovery and appointments, he didnt realise how pent up he was until he could hear his best friend and never thought about her like that until now and he has no idea why he never realised how hot she was
Maybe one day he catches glimpses of her walking to the bathroom naked (she thought everyone was asleep) and next time he realizes he can see her through a crack in the door while shes at it, maybe through a mirror so he gets a full new or he can only see a part of her through the door, torturing himself
Idk how youd get to this point but she maybe helps him masterbate because she feels sorry for him, maybe thinks because of all the stress and meds, hes finding it hard to finish and hes frustrated that he cant go out and meet anyone.
Someone that isnt her and it makes her jealous and sad
But something snaps between them and they fuck
hes like a wild animal when he finally gets his hands on her, she was scared he was gonna hurt himself
Probably gets hard again seeing the swollen mess hes made of her cunt 😋
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting <3 I hope I gave all the smut justice
⚠️smut
BFF...best friends fuck
After the torture Eddie went through in the upside down, he struggled to be alone. He had night terrors, he had flashbacks any time he touched his cuts. And Y/N couldn't stand to see her best friend that way. She forced him to stay with her, she lived alone and could easily care for him when he needed it, Wayne was too busy with work. She was there for anything he called for. She helped with the night terrors and sometimes slept beside him. But he mostly kept to himself, which she understood. He went through something traumatic and needed time to process everything.
But she was a girl, who had a hot best friend that she's seen shirtless over and over. She ignored the way her cunt ached when she'd treated the cuts on his chest and stomach. He was vulnerable and it was wrong to be turned on when he was in that state. But his skin felt amazing underneath her fingers and her brain couldn't forget it.
The same fingers she ghosted over his chest with, were working inside her cunt. Two fingers pumping in her as she imagined Eddie's skillful fingers. Her brain always went dead when he played the guitar, dripping as he held the pick in his mouth.
Eddie struggled to sleep, every movement sent a hissing pain throughout his whole body. Most nights he didn't sleep, just stared at the dark ceiling. But he kept hearing these small whimpers. He couldn't move anywhere without help, so he tried to slide up on the bed. His ear was against the wall, and to his luck, he could hear. The sound was coming from Y/N's room. Eddie worried she might have been hurt, knuckles on the wall about to knock before he heard something else. She was moaning and sounded breathless.
"Fuck...yes." Eddie felt his cock growing hard. She was touching herself, and he didn't need to guess from the moans. He could hear how wet she was through the walls. He tried to keep his breathing stable, but he could hear she was getting closer. Her moans were becoming whimpers only, a blabbering mess as she came all over her fingers. He quickly went back into his sleeping position when he heard her door open, his own cracked, she refused to let him keep it closed. Through the small crack, he could see her sneaking into the bathroom. Eddie bit his tongue as he saw her in a shirt and panties. He only heard the sink runningbefore she headed back off to bed. Her door is now open.
Eddie wanted to smack himself for the sinful thoughts running through his head. It was Y/N, his best friend since childhood and now he's imagining how tight her cunt was.
He never looked or thought about her that way.
~~~
But now, it's all he could think about. He felt like he was in actual hell when she came in the next morning. Now wearing pants she sat on his bed. She treated his wounds with the same fingers that were soaked inside of herself. He felt himself staring at her fingers. Wondering which ones she used to fuck herself, If next time he could lick her fingers clean instead of the sink.
He tried to forget about each day, but it wasn't working. He found himself listening close to hear her at night. Even though it was torture, he found himself addicted to her sounds and wanted to hear them over and over.
Some nights his wishes were answered, a slight buzz sounding through the walls and her moans reaching his ears. He tried to move his hand down to his cock, but all his bones ached at the movement. He clenched his teeth as he fisted the sheets. He found himself imagining her again, wondering which position she was fucking herself in and where exactly the vibrator was touching. He wondered how she liked it, rough or soft. Did she like to be dominated? He tried to remember her past boyfriends, but found a new sense of jealousy he'd never felt before. He knew she had sex, she talked about it before. And it never bothered him. But now, he felt like he could strange every man that touched her and fucked her cunt.
He also wondered what or who she thought about.
~~~
Even though he was healing more and more every day, he was tortured by her. She was walking around in a towel, assuming he was off to bed. But his eyes locked on the mirror that showed through the crack of her door. She stood there as she slipped off the towel. Eddie felt a growl in his throat, he almost was pissed at himself for never seeing how hot she was in the first place. All his ex-girlfriends thought they had a thing for each other, and he laughed at it. But now he realized he was missing out the whole time. Eddie tried to look away but then her hands traveled up her tits, her fingers yanking on her nipples as one hand reached between her thighs.
Eddie felt his cock twitching, this time he didn't care how bad it hurt. He was so riled up and tired of the sexual frustration. He breathed through his nose as he reached for his cock. Biting back the pain as he wrapped his hand around himself. Pumping himself slowly as he watched her touch her body. Her thighs shook and she held on to the mirror, disappearing a little from his eyesight. He leaned over, itching his way closer to see. Then he felt his body falling.
"FUCK!" he screamed, his body slamming into the floor. He shoved his cock back in his boxers, her footsteps racing to him. She came in with the towel, worry on her face as she flipped on his light.
"EDDIE! OH MY GOD!" she kneeled beside him, checking to make sure he wasn't bleeding anywhere.
"I'm fine." He huffed even more, frustration building. She was touching his body again, she didn't have time to wipe her fingers clean and her smell was lingering in his nose. He could see the light reflecting off her wetness. He couldn't even get a fucking orgasm.
"You fell! Let me help you up ." Her arms went under his armpits but he shoved her off.
"I said I'm fucking fine." He spat, he was breathing hard. His breath smacked her face as she looked at him. His eyes were dark, and he looked pissed.
"I know you don't like help, but you need it." She spat back, rolling her eyes at his attitude. She tried again to lift him but he shoved her off again.
"LET ME FUCKING HELP!"
"I DON'T NEED FUCKING HELP!"
"YES YOU DO!"
"FINE, WANT TO HELP?" He screamed, his brain wasn't thinking anymore. He was pissed at her. Walking around in her towels, teasing him with her moans, and constantly fucking herself. He was suffering and he was frustrated.
"UM DUH!" she screamed back
"GO GET ME A PRETTY GIRL TO MILK MY DICK, YEAH?" he screamed, using all his strength to stand up. He breathed hard through his nose as he held himself up with the dresser. His chest heaving as he stared her down. He didn't even register fully what he said. But he kept talking. "What? You said you wanted to help. And right now, I need to have a fucking orgasm. So run along, find me a girl, and have her ride me, give me a fucking handjob, or suck me off. I don't care and I don't care who."
She was lost for words. She's never seen Eddie so riled up. He had a crazy look in his eyes, the sweat glistened off his chest, and he was clenching his whole body. His veins popped everywhere and his stomach was tight. That's when she finally looked down. His cock hard through his boxers. She couldn't ignore how wet the whole screaming match made her. And all the jealousy that rang through her bones like a bell. Like she'd send a girl his way to listen to her please him. Let a slut into her house so he could have a good fuck. She took a deep breath, trying to think rationally, and not off of her jealousy.
"Gonna help me or not?" He barked, irritated at her silence and stillness.
"I'm not bringing a girl here to fuck you." She said, standing her ground at his idiotic idea. No way would she put herself through that pain just to please him.
"Fuck you!" He growled
"Fuck me? Excuse me, I have done everything to help you! You are such a selfish asshole" She argued
"You threw a bitch fit because I wouldn't let you help. And now, you won't even help me. And why?"
"I'm not bringing a slut into my house. Get off yourself. End of discussion." She said, moving to walk out of his room.
"Not easy for me like it is for you." He laughed, slowly moving his body to the bed.
She froze at his door, turning around to face him as he struggled to crawl into the bed.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked
"Means I can hear you through these thin walls princess. I hear every whimper, moan, and orgasm. You have such a nice wet cunt, I can almost hear the wetness every time." He was making fun of her. The smirk on his face told him he was winning. She was embarrassed, she never knew how thin the walls were. Her best friend heard her getting off multiple times.
"Nothing to say now? I don't think I've heard you so quiet before." He laughed again, finally getting comfortable on the bed.
"Fuck you!" She huffed, he had no right to make fun of her, especially as a guest in her home.
"Why don't you? I bet you already think about it. Hm? Do you think about me when you touch that pretty cunt?" He pressed harder, she didn't want to crack and she didn't want him to know. But the caught look on her face gave her up.
"Oh, baby. Don't be embarrassed. It's okay, I'm not mad." He teased.
"Shut up, Munson." She warned she was getting irritated at his constant teasing.
But he kept going and going. His voice turned into a buzz that rang through her ears. He kept teasing her and she could feel the blood rushing to her ears.
"I SAID SHUT UP!" she screamed, marching to him, her hand wrapping around his neck.
Eddie was caught off guard by her reaction but felt himself moaning under her grip. She was puffing in his face and her eyes looked ready for a kill.
"Make me." He choked, a smirk on his face as she tightened her grip.
He took a deep breath when she let him go, her hands moving down to his boxers. He moaned as she yanked them off, his cock free to the air as he hissed.
She felt herself clenching at the sight of him. He was bigger than she thought, but he was gorgeous. His tip was leaking and the veins were pulsing. She settled on the bed and took him in her mouth. Slowly taking him further down her throat as she sucked him off.
Eddie felt every bone in his body melt. He deflated as he filled her mouth. He reached forward and held her hair. He made a ponytail in his grip as he bucked his hips against her. He wanted to keep his eyes on her, watch as she cried and took him all. But it felt so good. Her mouth was warm, and she swirled her tongue in a way that made Eddie's head spin. He's gotten head before, but nothing felt as good as this. He never imagined his best friend gagging on his cock, but it was a sight to see.
He knew he wouldn't last long with all the frustration, but he tried to hold off as long as he could. She popped off with a smile, a line of spit connecting from her lip to his tip.
"You can cum, I know you need to." Then went right back to taking him fully down her throat. He clenched as she gagged around him, he grew closer as he fucked up into her. For once his adrenaline took over the pain in his body, he couldn't feel a single thing as he came in her mouth.
He fell against the pillows, sucked free of any energy. He panted as she cleaned him up, and wiped off her mouth. His eyes fighting to sleep as his body finally relaxed.
"I'll see you in the morning." She said softly, pecking his forehead as she covered his body.
He wanted to say something but he was a blink away from falling asleep.
~~~
Eddie woke up the next morning feeling the most refreshed he'd ever been. His brain playing back the memories of the night before had his cock growing again.
But now he didn't know where their relationship stood or if it was a heat at the moment.
She came in like nothing changed, treating his wounds like the normal routine. He knew he was a dick to her and he felt guilty.
"I'm sorry for being an ass yesterday, and invading your privacy like that." He apologized, he watched as she awkwardly shifted and smiled.
"Thank you for the apology. I am very embarrassed and sorry too."
"Don't be. It's normal." He said it was a dumb move to mock her for something so natural. And something he knew he enjoyed.
"I'm sorry for the big fight too. I shouldn't have pushed you so much." She said, standing up as she finished treating him.
"I shouldn't have screamed at you and put all of that on you. I was sexually frustrated and took it out on you."
"I can understand that. It happens to all of us."
~~~
A few days passed and neither talked about what happened after the fight. Eddie couldn't stop feeling her mouth wrapped around him. And how good it felt to cum down her throat.
His body was healing and he could move a lot better. He didn't ache and he could finally go out again. But Y/N refused to let him be on his own.
That's how she found herself drinking with him at a bar. She kept an eye on him to make sure he wasn't going overboard. But she couldn't help but glare at every girl who had their eyes glued to him. She didn't even notice the eyes on her, Eddie's, and another guy down at the bar.
Eddie felt himself wanting to devour her, she wore a tight dress and he's been hard since she walked out in it. His eyes were on her mouth, remembering how she sucked the orgasm out of him.
"Want another?" She asked, knocking him out of his thoughts. She grabbed his glass and walked to the bar. His eyes followed her, his hand adding pressure to his hard cock as she leaned over to yell.
He clenched his jaw as he watched a guy walk up to her. He hated how she smiled and laughed. Before he could get up, a girl landed on his arm.
Y/N thanked the bartender as she walked back to her seat. Her eyes glared as a girl was whispering in Eddie's ear. She slammed the drinks down, making her presence known. The girl looked her way and then went back to Eddie's ear.
Y/N couldn't tell if he was enjoying it or not. But he wasn't stopping it. Y/N felt like she was masking her jealousy well but the smirk on Eddie's face told her otherwise.
Y/N rolled her eyes and excused herself to the bathroom, unaware Eddie was hot on her heels. But when she was slammed against the door as she closed it, she was aware.
"Eddie what?" She panicked
"It looked like you were going to kill her, back there." Eddie joked, chuckling.
"Eddie, please not right now." She sighed, she couldn't handle any more of his mocking about her feelings.
Eddie dropped his teasing act when he saw the tired look on her face.
"What's wrong?" He asked, his hands still holding her hands against the door.
"Not in the mood to hear you make fun of me." She said, her eyes dropping to the tiny space between them. His body was practically against hers.
"Sorry, you're right. I just thought it was cute how jealous you are. Like she has anything on you." He whispered, his finger pulling down on her bottom lip.
"Doesn't she?" Y/N asked
"What do you mean?" Eddie asked, cupping her chin as he looked into her eyes
"I mean I get you off because you couldn't do it yourself. And now we are out at bars, and you are flirting away with a girl. Perfectly healed to take her into the bathroom and fuck." Y/N explained
"You mean what I'm doing right now with you?" He asked, his knee pushing between her legs. She shuttered at the action and lost her breath.
"....you want to fuck me?" She swallowed
"Want to return the favor for the best orgasm of my life." He smirked, one hand still holding hers against the door and the other slipping down her body and moving in between her thighs. His fingers found her soaked panties, pushing them aside as he slipped his fingers inside of her.
"Fuck." She moaned
"That's right. Let me hear you." He growled, adding a third finger, fucking her harder. His mouth attached to her neck, sucking harshly on her fresh skin.
She whimpered against him. Rocking her hips into his fingers. She imagined this so many times and couldn't believe it was happening.
"pretty sounds from such a pretty girl." He praised, kissing the mark he left on her. He yanked his fingers out of her, sucking them clean. "Delicious." He moaned. She tasted better than he could have imagined.
"I'm gonna fuck your pretty cunt until you can't walk." He growled, releasing her hands as he took his cock out of his jeans. He flipped up her dress and ordered her to jump.
She wrapped her legs around him and locked her arms around his neck. She gasped as his cock filled her, stretching her open as he fucked into her.
It was rough and hot. Open mouths smashing against each other, breathing into each other. Her hands moved to his hair, yanking and pulling. His animal-like growls made her head spin. Or maybe the way her head was smacking against the door because of how hard he was fucking her is what made her head spin.
"Slow down...need to be careful." She tried to say, but it barely made it out. Just pants of words.
"I'll be fine." He wanted her, and he wanted to make her feel him for weeks.
His hands held her up, gripping her skin. His fingernails clinged inside of her skin. His cock bruised her. He carried her over to the sink, setting her down as he moved his hand between their bodies. His finger instantly found her clit, circling it as fast as he could. He loved the way her head fell back against the mirror.
"Look at you. Letting your best friend fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom. Pretty cunt is just as tight as I thought. Gripping me so good. Such a good girl for me." He praised, and she gasped over and over. Trying to form words but nothing.
"Please, let me cum." She finally got out, her fingers digging into his ass as he fucked into her.
"Sweet talker," he chuckled, holding her chin as he smirked down at her, "begging to cum? How can I say no to that? Cum for me."
Eddie watched as she soaked his cock, keeping himself deep inside of her as she came. She touched him everywhere. Her hands worked around his chest, his hips, his hair, and his stomach. Her hands pushed up his shirt to run her hands over his scars.
He felt his orgasm getting close, thrusting inside of her as he smashed his lips on hers. The second she kissed him back, he came inside of her.
Kissing her was a feeling he couldn't forget. How soft her lips were and how sweet she tasted. She kissed as softly as her hands worked on his skin.
He pulled away when he felt the need to breathe. A dazed look in her eyes as she looked back at him. He softly slid out of her, tucking himself back in his jeans.
"Let's go home, baby" he set her on her feet and pulled down her dress.
A big smirk on his face as she stumbled out of the bathroom.
Tags!
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#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader#eddie munson fluff x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson smut x reader#Eddie Munson best friend to lover#ashwhowrites
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steve wakes up for the first time that morning on a lumpy couch with sticky red lipstick smeared across his forearm.
there's a pair of lips imprinted next to a glob of red and if he looks closely, eyes squinted in hangover glory, he can make out the ghost of a handful of numbers, something that looks like maybe like a 5 curving around the inside of his wrist. it's hard to tell in the dull morning light, even harder when he can't open his eyes because of the pounding drums of a headache in his skull so he gives up, plops his head down on the well-worn couch cushion, and falls back asleep.
when steve wakes up for the second time, his head is positively throbbing, blurring his vision and making him feel weak. his neck is cricked and pops uncomfortably as he stretches before he forces himself to stand. the lipstick is less sticky now, but it's still very much there, even though steve had convinced himself it was just a dream.
as he weaves around other people on the floor who are still passed out with red plastic cups and bottles strewn between them, he digs his keys out of his back pocket and examines the writing. he can't make out the words written under the jumble of numbers. 'cah nie' is what it looks like, but even hungover steve knows that those aren't real words.
steve's pulling into his driveway when it hits him. oh, he thinks, it says 'call me'; the numbers feel a little more important now.
he stumbles through the front door, his feet shuffling along the floors because he feels too puny and lazy to pick them up properly, and makes his way to the kitchen. while steve may not have a career as a private investigator in his future, he's curious, excited to look at the numbers smudged along his arm to figure out who it could belong to.
and it wasn't like he really even went to parties anymore. between the world almost ending and then the world piecing itself back together and the kids going off to school and making the move to indianapolis and making a new group of friends just to move back to hawkins with a few in tow, he didn't exactly feel like the partying type. too much had happened between high school and now.
but lori had convinced jimmy to throw a rager to celebrate moving into their new apartment that they got for cheap on the outskirts of town, out near a lake that steve won't step foot in anymore. then came the gin followed by tequila followed by dancing and joints and laying on his back in the dewy grass to look at the stars with curly hair tickling the side of his neck as he-
curly hair. that's it, his first clue.
steve grabs a notepad off the kitchen counter and jots out every combination he can think of from the numbers on his wrist. the only thing he can clearly see is that the first two numbers are 42 and the last is definitely a 5. everything else in between is guess work, a jarbled combination of maybe 8s and 2s, but he has nothing but time to kill and he won't be able to let it go until he gets the bottom of the mystery number.
he makes call after call to random numbers, switching 7s and 2s and 3s and 8s hoping for any sort of a hint. there's a sort of hope blooming in his chest that someone could have liked steve enough to leave him a message written on his arm like they were staking a claim. it's been a long time since he's felt like this. like he's wanted.
it's when he gets to a number near the bottom of his list that he gets someone to actually answer the phone. it rings once, twice, three times until it's picked up, steve's stomach tied in knots that he wants to write off as lingering hangover nausea even though he knows it isn't.
"yeah?" a gruff voice responds, and if steve concentrates, really concentrates, he thinks it sounds familiar.
"uhm, hi?" he squeaks out and pulls the receiver away from his face so he can cough around the dryness in his throat. "this is probably a weird question but-"
"whatever you're selling, i'm not interested."
and there it is, it clicks in steve's head who he's called. he laughs a little bit to himself and slumps down further into the chair he was sitting in.
"eddie?" he asks, scrubbing a hand over his face now that he knows that this is all either an elaborate prank to make him look stupid or a way to make sure steve makes good on his promise from the party last night to call eddie about when they could hang out next.
there's a sound on the other end of the line, something between a huff and a groan, before the line goes dead. the dial tone blares in steve's ear and it's loud enough that he has to yank the phone away to save his hearing. he can feel his face pinch together before dialing the number again.
the line rings. it rings and rings and rings until it clicks off.
steve calls back.
it rings a few more times and steve has half a mind to drive over to the munson's new place and see eddie in person until finally, there's a voice on the other end of the line.
"the voicemail box you have reached is currently-"
steve sighs. "eddie, i know that's you, come on."
"what, i thought i sounded pretty convincing." eddie's voice is deep, albeit a tad scratchy, and steve's memory brings him back to the night before. the two sat on the porch and smoked cigarette after cigarette while they caught up, thighs touching and fingers brushing as they traded them back and forth.
"it would have been if i didn't know that you guys don't have a voicemail."
"touche," eddie responds. steve can hear the smile laced in his voice and he can vaguely make out something in the background, maybe the tv or a record, and he can't help but picture what eddie might be doing. his brain supplies flashes of eddie standing around the sound system the night before, his hair wild, smile even wilder when he looks up at steve as he convinces ray to turn on tears for fears for him and-
something flutters around in his stomach for a second before settling and it has steve blushing. he wants to slap himself back into reality.
"did you get home okay?" he asks, phone cord wrapping around his finger like he's talking to a girl he's sweet on or like a curl twisting over his hand as he plays with someone's hair. "after the party?"
he hears eddie sigh and what must be their metal kitchen chairs scraping across the linoleum flooring. "yeah, got back last night."
the hangover from the morning is fading and with it goes the blissful ignorance of not thinking back on embarrassing moments from the night before. steve's no stranger to making dumb decisions during a night out, but hearing eddie's voice is pulling at something like a loose thread on a well loved sweater. he feels like he's unraveling, getting closer and closer to the end of the thread before he's laid bare.
"good, that's good." steve goes quiet as does eddie, uncharacteristically quiet as whatever it drones on in the background. "so why-"
"let's not go there, okay?" eddie cuts him off and it has him frowning.
"go where?" steve asks while his eyes trace over the remnants of the lipstick kiss on his wrist and he fights the urge to see if his lips fit over it, too.
it's almost a minute but feels like longer when he finally breaks the silence. "to why i wrote my number on your arm, that's where we're not going."
"okay but you didn't just write your number... which by the way, thanks for using lipstick instead of pen like a normal person because it got all smudged and you have no idea how many random houses i had to call before i got to you and..." steve takes in a breath to stop himself from rambling any further and hears eddie do the same.
"i didn't have a pen, steve-"
"-and you kissed my arm, at least i'm assuming that was you." eddie chokes on the other end of the line. "i'm not upset or anything, ed, just confused."
there's more silence cut through only by eddie cursing under his breath.
"was it a joke? get me to think someone wanted me to... i don't know, take them out or something?" steve has to ask, feeling a tiny part of his heart ache to ask it.
eddie curses to himself again, this time a little louder. "it's not a joke, i swear. i think i just got a little brave with our good friend mr. jack daniels and... you know?"
"... no? know what?"
"i just-" eddie groans, "you were right, steve. someone.... someone does want you to take them out, just not someone you would think would want to date you."
steve's head is still pounding, fragments of his hangover still lingering around. it makes him want to crawl into bed instead of listening to eddie's riddles, draw the curtains shut and wake up when he can wrap his head around things again. he closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his fluttering nerves.
"let me get this straight. you wrote your phone number on my arm ruining some poor girl's lipstick and kissed my fucking wrist to go along with it, all because some mysterious someone wants me to ask them out?"
"... yes?"
"so why did you write your number and not that someone's?"
eddie whines and he sounds like a little kid throwing a temper tantrum despite his deep voice from chainsmoking with him the night before and oh.
the curls tickling his neck. the smile he threw at steve from across the room. the way he goaded the makeshift dj into playing his song. the ever so gentle fingers holding his shoulder steady so he could light his cigarette off his own. the stars bouncing off the darkness of his eyes and the touch of fingertips against his cheek when he pulled the blanket up to steve's chin as he fell asleep on the couch and a whispered "g'night stevie" with his breath grazing his ear and-
"oh."
"and he's got it, ladies and gentlemen!" eddie fakes cheers and applause while steve chokes on his own stuttering breath at the realization. "only took him calling half of hawkins to put it together."
"hey, be nice to me, i had to solve your riddle with a hangover." steve laughs along side eddie and he can see it. it wouldn't be like a regular date, not by a longshot, where he takes a girl to some moderately priced restaurant followed by a movie where he gets to hold her hand. it'll be more like eddie, where he gets to laugh and be himself and not worry about saying the wrong thing, like he actually wants steve there and not just his reputation.
the silence this time around is a little more comfortable. a little more light. steve's finger tightens around the phone cord and it isn't all that hard to imagine it as a dark brown curl instead.
"and you better be extra nice to me when you let me take you out on that date."
#this was solely inspired by the opening line to bang the doldrums by fall out boy#but just the opening line not the rest of it cause they're better off as lovers but also best friends too#steddie#steddie headcanon#steve harrington#eddie munson#my writing#steddie drabble#steddie ficlet#ignore any and all typos pls because i wrote this too fast
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ʀᴜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅsʜɪᴘ
ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ : sᴍᴜᴛ ☠︎ ᴀɴɢsᴛ ✩
ᴀғᴀʙ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴsᴏɴ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴇɴᴅs ᴜᴘ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ "ᴀ ғᴇᴡ" ᴅʀɪɴᴋs. ᴀ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ᴄᴏɴғᴇssɪᴏɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ!ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʀɪᴊᴜᴀɴᴀ ᴜsᴇ, ғɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴄᴜɴɴɪʟɪɴɢᴜs, sǫᴜɪʀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ(ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ), ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ, ʙʟᴏᴡᴊᴏʙ, ғᴀᴄᴇ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ, ᴅᴏᴍ!ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ, sᴜʙ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, (ɴᴏᴛ ᴠᴇʀʏ)ᴍᴇᴀɴ!ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀs, ʟᴏᴛs ᴏғ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.1ᴋ
ᴄʀᴏss ᴘᴏsᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ : ᴄᴏᴢᴍɪᴄᴄᴀss
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
YOU WERE HOME ALONE when the guy you've grown to love showed up at your door reeking of booze and pot. leave it to eddie munson to still look hot as fuck when he's drunk off his ass. his curly hair was sticking to his forehead, no doubt from the performance he just put on at the hideout.
"hey, babyyyy," he exclaimed as you opened your front door, he was leaned against the doorway with a wide smile on his rosey face. his sweet button nose the reddest of all and you just wanted to kiss it(even if you were slightly annoyed).
"hi, eddie," a less than amused tone came from your pouty pink lips as you crossed your arms. you knew he was a grown man, but you worried about him all the same.
"awe, sweetheart, please don't be mad at me..." his bottom lip stuck out with intent. eddie kicked his shoes off like he did every other time he came and sauntered towards you and you couldn't help but feel a little timid, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
you began to walk backwards, careful not to topple over any furniture. "i'm not mad, i just worry about you, dickhead."
eddie looked at you sadly but also with a slight glint of mischief in his eyes and let his fingers graze your jaw momentarily, "you wound me, princess" then, his right hand went to his chest while the other found his forehead dramatically. the silly boy stumbled onto your couch with a solid FLOP! nearly hitting his head on your side table.
"i wound you, huh? i'm the one that has to take care of your dumb ass when you get like this. nearly every weekend, i might add," your eyes rolled at him as you sat between his legs, one up on the couch and the other lazily draped off the cushion. you couldn't believe him, you loved him; you would never do anything to hurt him. truthfully, you'd do just about anything for him.
"i wouldn't want anyone else to, ya' know," suddenly serious chocolate eyes bored into yours before a wide grin appeared across his pretty features. "i may be drunk, but i'm not stupid, well, i am, but you get it!"
"you're not stupid, eddie." one of your hands found his thigh and you squeezed lovingly, earning a little jump from the metal head. "let me get you some water, okay?"
you walked the short distance to the kitchen, noticing that eddie was staring ass. a smirk played upon your lips, "what was that?" eddie wasn't the only ornery one around here and flirting with him was one of your specialties. it always surprised him when you made the first move.
"hmm?" he quickly decided to play dumb, rubbing his eyes and trying to pull off a horridly fake yawn that ended up turning into a real one.
"you got caught, eddie, no need to lie to me." you laughed lightly, "i know my ass looks great in these shorts."
"yeah, no kidding, 'ts like you knew i was coming over here or something." it was hardly loud enough for you to hear, but boy did you hear it.
and you definitely did wear them for him. every saturday night he would play at the hideout, he would come to you, drunk as a skunk, and you would make sure he didn't have a hangover the next morning, or at least baby the hangover that was to come. so yes, you wore the smallest shorts and the most see-through top you owned.
all for eddie.
"and if i did?" you found your way back to the sofa and kneeled next to him on the floor. you looked up at him through heavy lashes. your mind was screaming, retreat, retreat! but you stayed. you didn't know where the sudden courage had come from, but there you were, so close...
"well then that would be fuckin' awesome, sweetheart," a goofy grin appeared once again; he was still decently drunk. his ring-clad hand covered his blushing face, "but you're wayyyy too pretty to do that for lil' ole' me!"
"that's not true, now drink your water," eddie sat up on his elbows before you handed him the cup. you watched him take gulp after satisfying gulp, adam's apple bobbing, and some droplets coming from the side of his mouth. you wanted to lick them up desperately.
he let out a refreshed "ahh" before handing the cup back to you with another cheesy smile. you accepted it back and got some more for him, but only this time came back with some tylenol and crackers. this was practically a ritual by now.
you enjoyed that eddie came to you every weekend. it gave you a certain satisfaction knowing he wasn't going home with anyone else.
"you're too good to me, sweetheart. what did i do to deserve you?" he sat up fully before taking the items out of your hand graciously and downing the medicine before looking at you with soft eyes. an emotion you couldn't read was displayed within those chocolate irises. "seriously. no one has a better best friend than me."
the words stung, but eddie was a free soul. you didn't ever want to stop him from being who he was, so you never told him how you felt. little did you know, he felt the same way about you.
"best friends forever, right?" a bruised tone left your lips and eddie picked up on it instantly. you could hide nothing from that boy nor did you necessarily try to in that moment.
"hey, what's that for?" he strummed your bottom lip sweetly as he frowned.
you brushed him off with a half laugh that wasn't nearly believable enough and he was forced to pry it out of you. "if you don't tell me, i'll have to make you tell me," he playfully threatened, but it only added to your ever growing frustration. a heat rising in your belly and headed straight to your warm gushy canter.
the way he spoke, how his hair fell somehow perfectly and so messily at the same time, the light freckles that sprinkled his pink cheeks and nose; it was all too much for you to handle. too much for you to pretend to not be obsessed over.
"if i tell you something you don't know about me, you have to tell me what's going on in that pretty, brooding brain of yours, mmkay?" he tapped your forehead and then your nose, finally making you crack a real smile. "or i can just tickle it out of you and we all know you just love that."
the way eddie could make light of any situation would always be something you loved so dearly about him.
"i'm so not brooding, but fine," you huffed like the complete brat you are. "it better be a good secret then."
"oh, it is, but you have to swear you won't be weird after." the flirty smile he gave you made your heart do a thousand flips. he'd probably just tell you he jacks off to farrah fawcett or something.
eddie, already feeling a little more sober, readjusted himself on the couch, " okay, so," he clapped his hands together dramatically, "when we were both seniors... i had, like, a massivecrushonyou. okay! now you!" the words came out as one, hoping you would just not understand him somehow. it failed royally.
but it was true, he'd had a crush on you since your senior year/his second senior year. you had always been so kind to him and never made him feel less than you in any way. it was refreshing and he only wished he had gotten to know you sooner.
it wasn't until you turned twenty-one and him twenty-two that you became more closely acquainted. you and your other friends would go to the hideout on the weekends just to watch eddie play in his band. you thought they were the coolest and you were peer pressured into talking to him by robin buckley. she would always claim that you were "oogling him." you definitely were, but you'd deny it til you were blue in the face.
you got a little bit older and decided you would much rather stay home than party, but eddie had a reputation to uphold and a stage to rock. of course, that didn't stop him from visiting when he could, ie., that night and every other saturday. it was like a bootycall, but less sex. much less sex.
you were happy to take whatever he gave you though.
stolen not-so-secret glances, light touches that felt like flames dancing on your skin, harmless kisses on the cheek when you said your goodbyes and hellos. you could've been happy with the little things forever...
until that fateful night, that is. the way he was sat there, sappy eyes practically begging you to make the first move.
but still, your running mind hadn't entirely processed what he just said, so you were a little dumbfounded. "you what?!"
"yeah, yeah, you were pretty and nice to me and i thought you were cool as hell, so whatever. it's cool. your turn." he tried brushing it off so quickly that it made you wonder if he maybe still had that crush... but no way.
"you liked me?" the blush formed quicker and much hotter than you anticipated and eddie saw. not to mention the wetness that was forming between your thighs as you tried not to be too obvious about rubbing them together.
"well, how could i not?" his thumb softly stroked your chin and your heart was beating out of your chest. "you're a catch, princess."
the sly smirk eddie gave you made you certain he knew the effect he had on you. eddie got shamelessly flirty with you when he drank which was a very big reason you kept allowing him to come over like this. that night felt so different though.
he leaned forward so his lips came dangerously close to you, "now, it's your turn, tell me what's got you so grumpy, baby."
eddie started to pull away, but the eye contact had engulfed you so intensely that you didn't even realize that you had reached for his face.
there was no going back now.
with a sudden surge of confidence, you caressed his cheek, "i don't just want to be your best friend, eddie." just as quickly, your lip quivered in anticipation of the rejection you felt you were going to receive.
eddie's eyes flicked to your mouth as he gently grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth before he kissed it, "then what do you want to be?"
"i want to be everything," your breath staggered and your faces were so close.
"do you know how fucking long i've waited for you to say that?" his eyes screamed of hunger and lust.
"so do something about it,"
it was almost embarrassing how quickly you were ripped into the metal head's lap, but at that point you couldn't give a fuck less.
your legs were on either side of him while his hands gripped onto your love-handles. your cunt throbbed at the way his dick was pressing against you, only a few layers between you. the need to kiss him was almost unbearable, but passing that threshold meant changing everything forever. but who were you kidding? everything was already changed forever.
luckily, eddie didn't seem to mind as much as you did as he crashed his lips into yours; the movement was that of an ocean, not rough, but also not quite calm either. the taste of tobacco and beer, but so much more delicious and just as addictive. you felt as though your purpose in life was to kiss this man, to feel his tongue dance with yours, to mold your lips to his plump ones.
eddie's grasp on your hips went from secure to deadly as he made your clothed clit drag along his very prominent hard-on. the back and forth was delectable, but you could see him growing more and more impatient.
being on top didn't last long for you when he swiped you at the back of your knees and landing rather roughly onto your back. one of his silver-clad hands traveled heavily down your body and back up to your lips. he put his thumb at the edge of your mouth, "you're so fucking pretty, you know that? i don't know what you're doing with me."
instead of trying to reassure him with words, you took his thick thumb in your mouth and sucked, flicking your tongue around and around. neither of you dropped eye contact and you don't think you'd ever been so turned on in your life.
eddie let out a shaky breath, "fuck..."
he slowly dragged his thumb to strum your bottom lip and moved his hand to your throat and you basked in it. "you really want this, baby?"
all it took from you was a nod and eddie was ready to go. a split second and he was practically mauling your neck, but it wasn't sloppy. the kisses were deliberate and placed with the utmost care, hot and wet. his breath made you shiver as you brought your hands to his back making scratches through his hellfire shirt. you were practically begging for him to take it off, but it wasn't good enough. he needed words.
"what do you need, sweetheart. tell me and i'll give it to you," the devil was in his eyes at this point, they went from that beautiful dark brown that reminded you of hershey syrup to obsidian.
"i need this off," you huffed. "now, please!"
eddie laughed, throwing his head back, his brunette curls bouncing with him. he obliged, though, with no objections whatsoever. in one swift movement you could see his perfectly pale skin, scattered freckles and beauty marks, his do it yourself tattoos that you loved so much, and even a few scars that you weren't sure how they got there. you made a mental note to find out later.
"take a picture, sweetheart. it'll last longer." eddie smirked and you bit your lip. your nails scraped down his now bare chest and he hissed.
you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him close and whispered, "i want you to touch me, eddie, please."
"how can i say no when you asked so nicely?"
eddie slid down your body painfully slow, stopping at the hem of your tiny shirt. he pulled up, giving you time to protest, but you wouldn't dream of telling him no.
why would you? you felt like you've been waiting your whole life for this moment. this had been a fantasy that you never thought would be made a reality. eddie was the forbidden fruit and you were eve.
he slid your shirt carefully off of you and stared in awe.
"take a picture, sweetheart. it'll last longer," you mocked.
"i'd like to see you mock me after this,"
eddie started at your neck again, leaving bruises with his mouth, trailing to your breasts. he sucked your left nipple in his mouth, teasing you with that talented tongue of his, all while palming your other tit. he made sure to give the same attention to the right.
he made sure to make you squirm as he licked all the way down past your navel. his teeth scraped against your hip bone causing you to squeal.
eddie's head rested between your thighs, so very eager to please. the view from above was heavenly; big glossy button eyes staring up at you like you were the most beautiful, longed for being on earth, an angel sent down just for him to devour.
and devour he did.
he placed hot kisses to both thighs, getting closer and closer to your core with each one.
he wasted no time in stripping you of your underwear before taking that long tongue down the middle of your sopping cunt. the sensation was surreal. you knew you'd been deprived, but one touch had you uncoiling so quickly that it was embarrassing. eddie took it as a win.
your clit was first on his hit list, making sure to learn your body as quickly as he could. he saw which angles contoured your face in pleasure, perfect o's forming on that pretty mouth of yours.
with your fingers tangled in his hair, the tingling feeling built up until you felt that dam in you about to break, "fuck, eddie, i'm-i'm coming."
and just like that, he stopped.
"what the fuck?" you whined.
"do you trust me?" eddie smirked.
"hardly,"
"this is going to feel so good, i promise." and for some reason, you believed him.
he took his two most middle fingers through the slick of your pussy and put them in his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. "how did i know you were going to taste like fucking peaches? such a perfect girl."
his same fingers then plunged into your core, moving at an unforgiving pace. they were curling in the most perfect way, hitting your g-spot every. single. time. the moans you were letting out were near pornographic. mewling, squeaking, sighing. and you felt like you were going to piss yourself.
"you feel that, sweetheart? that's it, keep chasing that." he encouraged you until you finally felt that white hot release. liquids gushed from between your thighs, covering eddie in you. you felt like you could pass out from the intensity as you shook. your brain was empty, no words could be formed.
"awe, poor thing, never squirted, have you?" you stared up at the ceiling, completely dumbfounded. when he got no response he chuckled. "i'll take that as a no."
you smiled weakly and covered your face. you'd never came so hard in your life and odds were that more was yet to come(cum).
"well, baby, i'm just getting started, c'mere." he grabbed your waist harshly, pulling you into his face and dug right in again, thus came your second orgasm of the night.
"wanna take care of you too, eddie..." your bottom lip stuck out, exhausted from overstimulation but so ready and willing to please eddie.
"it would be rude of me to decline such a pretty girl, wouldn't it? show me what that mouth does besides talk shit." eddie pulls you up by the nape of your hair and onto your knees on the couch as he stands in front of you. he unbuckles his belt effortlessly and drops his pants and boxers revealing a very pretty cock coming up to slap his stomach.
you couldn't help but gawk. it was nine inches, easy, just the right girth, veiny and such a pretty pink. good enough to fucking eat.
through heavy eyelashes, you look up at him and lick a stripe up the underside of his dick. you give the slit on his swollen head a kitten lick causing him to jolt and moan so quietly, but it still made your thighs clench together.
before you even think about giving anymore attention to his dick, you take his balls in your mouth and suck. eddie takes in a sharp breath, "are you even fucking real, holy fuck."
he groans as your swirl your tongue around being sure to make him feel just as good as he made you.
you replace your mouth with your hand, spitting on it before palming his balls and taking the head of his weeping cock in your willing mouth again. only this time you don't stop there. spits spills off your tongue, making sure to be sloppy. your eyes met eddie's that were already boring into you before you take most of his length into your mouth, almost choking on it.
"fuck, you're so good at that." his ring clad hand finds its way to your hair again and pulls. hard. eddie shoves you back down, his head hitting the back of your throat making you gag. you press your thumbnail into your palm as he face fucks you. tears were streaming down your face.
when he finally pulls you off of him, you're a slobbering mess. your mascara that you had put on just before eddie got there was rubbed into your skin and made you look like a raccoon, but he thought you'd never looked so beautiful. to have you under him with his dick in your mouth, spit running down your chin, shining in the dim light of your living room. he could get used to having you like that.
"my turn." he said and scooped you up to take you to your bedroom. this made your heart fucking pound out of your naked chest. oral was one thing, but actual sex was another; a line that would change everything for the rest of time. you were fooling yourself though. things were already never going to be the same. you both knew that and eddie couldn't have been happier about it.
it felt so right for both of you, like you were finally letting go of all of the worries and doubts you ever had and just leaned into one another.
your metal head kicked the already slightly cracked door open all the way in a truly eddie fashion that made you giggle. he tossed you lightly on the bed and kissed up your thighs, yanking you to the edge of the bed. your legs were hiked up on his chest, spread wide open for him as he spit onto your clit and rubbed it with his thumb. you jerked from the contact on your already sensitive bud.
"you ready, pretty girl?" he smirked and you nodded sheepishly.
eddie lined the head of his dick to your hot center, but not before giving it a gentle slap, and slid in gently. you both moaned as he slid back out and plunged back in harsher. your tits bounced with each thrust he made, his balls slapping against your ass. you were addicted, that much was for sure. you needed eddie's dick every day for the rest of your life.
the sloshing noise your cunt made with each impetus made eddie groan, "so tight, baby. fuck, i can't hold out much longer. you feel too fucking good."
eddie suddenly takes his cock out and flips you over the edge of your bed, ass perfectly aligned to his waist. he grabbed a fistful of your hair with one hand and pushed himself back into you.
the thrusts started out slow, but he knew it was for naught. it wasn't long before his hips were stuttering, "where do y—"
"inside me, eddie. please. been wanting you so bad for so long," you whined, pressing yourself into him. you needed to feel him fill you up to the brim.
"oh, shit!" one final, exasperated pump and he was spilling his warm cum into you and you came with him: a truly ethereal experience. eddie let go of your hair and leaned over you, beaming from ear to ear; post-nut euphoria.
his hands rubbed along your sides sweetly, a contrast to how he was handling you seconds ago. humming in your ear. kissing your shoulder. you definitely felt like you were dreaming.
"you're just so fucking pretty," eddie cooed. you looked over at him shyly about to cover your face with your shaking hands. "don't hide from me, sweetheart."
"i just never thought you felt the same way." you pouted.
"and how do you feel, doll?" long fingers reached to move your hair from your face.
you thought carefully before you said your next words, face completely red with vulnerability, "i feel like i don't wanna do anything like that with anyone else ever again." your eyes shifted from his intense eyes to his chest.
eddie grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in those big, beautiful, now full of passion and love, eyes. his hand cradled your face and lips met yours once more, only much softer.
"and you'll never have to if i have anything to do with it."
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴏɴᴇ 🩷
#eddie munson friends to lovers#eddie munson smut friends to lovers#eddiemunson#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#smut#stranger things#strangers things eddie#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x yn#eddie munson best friend smut#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson stranger things#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader
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i don't want you like a best friend- day 2 of keeks's lover house series
Day 2 of my Lover House series♡
♡Best Friend! Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader♡
best friends to lovers, painful pining, idiots in love, queer!eddie mentioned, smut, you've heard the song
Read Day 1 here!
"Carve your name into my bedpost/ 'Cause I don't want you like a best friend"
You thought Eddie had no clue of the feelings you harbored for him.
Since high school you've been pining for your best friend. Every car ride, every smoke session in his room, every concert you've gone together. Every single time you helped him haul equipment on and off his van. You've been in love with him for the past six years.
However, when he asks you to be his plus one at Steve's wedding it doesn't shock you. You were his date to proms, homecomings and various events-- there was no Eddie without you and vice versa.
This time seems different, though, as the end of the night was fast approaching. You sit at one of the tables, fumbling with the buckle of your shoes, trying yo get rid of the painful sting at the back of your heel.
Eddie follows you back from the dance floor to the table. Having shed the jacket of his suit and his tie, he's left with the top three buttons undone, and his frizzy hair tied up in a low bun as his sweaty bangs stick to his forehead.
He looks so effortlessly beautiful you can't help but try to hold back from jumping his bones. An activity you've gotten way too good at-- holding back.
He kneels on the floor, seeing you struggle with the buckle as he takes your ankle in his hand.
"Lemme do it" he says over the loud music "are your feet hurting?" the touch of his hands on the skin of your ankle makes you shiver. You nod.
"You lemme know when you wanna head back to the hotel room, I'll come with" he smiles, leaving a sweet caress on the arch of your foot. You're used to this.
The touching, the caresses. It's just how he is. Touchy.
When his hand seems to linger too much on your leg when you watch movies together at your apartment, or when you seem to be too tucked into his chest when walking down the street, his arm around your shoulders.
It drives you up a wall, he seems to always get too close. Unconscious to the idea that maybe, just maybe...
"You know what, Ed? I'm going up, I'll go say goodnight to Steve and go" you smile at him, pitter pattering your way across the dance floor, where Steve and his bride are still in the happy throes of love as he spins her around and they laugh in unison.
Eddie watches you, hips swaying with every step you take. That dress has been driving him insane all night. Dark green, tight around your hips. Multiple times in the span of the night he's had to subtly conceal his boner from the way you were dancing on him. The cocktails at the open bar getting into your system.
And there you are again, turning his brain to mush, seeing how your dress hugs you so perfectly. So he follows you like a little puppy dog, hoping to get to see more of you. Hoping you'll ask for his help in undoing your zipper as you get ready for bed.
"Tonight was fun" you sigh, walking towards your room "I think we're next, Ed" you elbow him, eyebrows raising suggestively.
"Do I have a girlfriend or boyfriend I don't know about?" he snickers, running an arm around your shoulders- God, you're so soft.
"Well, no. But you better get working on it, we're not getting any younger" you smile at him "I won't start looking 'til you do, loverboy" you laugh, still in a tipsy stupor.
You take out your key and open the door to your room.
"Need me to stay with you?" he gives you one of his pretty boy smiles. The ones that make your stomach flutter with confused butterflies.
"You don't have to, but you're welcome in if you want to. I'll just change in the bathroom" he follows you in as you rummage through your suitcase to find your toiletries.
"Don't change yet. That dress cost you a fortune, don't you want to enjoy it?" he just can't get enough of you in the dress, the green velvet hugging your body like it was made for you. Like you came out of his wildest dreams.
An awkward laugh escapes you "'kay, so what should I do then?" you lean on the dresser, crossing your arms. Your tits push up at the motion. He feels himself stir in his slacks as he pats down the spot next to him on the bed.
You sit down, body turned towards him. "What is it?" your heart thrums within your chest. The touchiness isn't unusual, but the tension that fills the room seems different. Almost like an invisible electricity.
"What if I didn't have to look?" his hand moves closer to yours, fingertips barely touching. You take a ragged breath in.
"I'm not sure what you're saying, Eddie" your hand scooches closer to his. He feels the softness of your fingers. He wonders if you're this soft everywhere.
"I don't have to look for someone to be with. No one's going to be you" you feel like your breath has been knocked out of your lungs "and I know you feel the same, so can we please stop it with the act and kiss already" you feel dizzy, hands shaking on top of his, fingers lightly entwined.
He feels the trembling in your hand as he envelops it with his. Your face feels hot.
"How'd you-" you begin, his free hand goes to your cheek, cupping. His thumb stroking the skin, moving the hair that falls on your face away from it.
"You've never been a master of subtlety, sweetheart" he smiles, his lips so close to yours you can smell the tequila shots on his breath. Breath that you're currently out of. The hand on your cheek makes a minimal movement, your lips meeting on impact.
And it's like a dam has been broken. Years of pining, waiting, jealousy, end here. Eddie's tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at your bottom lip, as a moan slips out of you. A moan you've been holding in along with all the breath you had.
You get more bold with each swipe of his tongue, opening your mouth up for him to give him more access. Your hands reach up to the buttons of his dress shirt, slowly making your way down each eyelet, revealing his milky skin smattered with black ink.
"I've been wanting to get that dress of of you since you got in the car this morning" he nips at your bottom lip, moving down to leave open mouthed kiss down the column of your neck.
A breathless moan falling from your lips as he reaches for the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders.
He reaches under the slit of your dress, you gasp at his actions, still trying to convince yourself that this is real. That what is happening is not just another stupid dream.
Caressing the side of your thigh, he bunches up the velvet of her dress around your hips, your hands trapped in Eddie’s hair as you let breathless gasps escape you.
“You like me touching you?” he asks, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass, it’s getting all so much already, with a whine you lean your forehead on his shoulder.
“Hey, no, look at me” he grabs your face gingerly, letting your eyes meet "I've been waiting to see you like this. I need to see you" and in the shushed whispers it's like you're not even in a hotel room anymore.
He's created your own universe, where the perfection of your bodies, hands, fingers, breaths intertwined, they're everything that matters for a brief moment in time.
Eddie reaches behind your back, feeling around for the zipper of your dress. You hold a breath in, briefly overtaken by a strange feeling. He's never seen you like this.
"It's okay, it's just me" it's almost like he senses your unease in the air, placing a chaste kiss to your shoulder, like a soothing balm for your heart. The zipper begins to go down, its buzzing fills the room, a ticking clock for what's about to happen.
"I can't believe we waited this long" he says with bated breath, as you get the dress of of you "you're so gorgeous" he mumbles against the skin of your wrist placing an open mouthed kiss there.
Your heart thrums, you want to answer him, you want to say that you've loved him since high school, you've played the waiting game and the reward was right in front of you. Instead you just whimper as Eddie lays you down, reaching a hand in between your legs. You stop him immediately.
"I need you right now. I'm ready" you urge feverishly, you feel hot, a burning need to get close to him. Feeling like you might die if you don't feel him sink into you right this instant.
He smiles. Understanding, maybe a little cocky as he chuckles and leans back, undoing the belt of his slacks, finally letting his cock spring free, after a whole day of suffocating confinement.
Your mouth hangs open, murmuring your name against the skin of your abdomen, your chest, placing a kiss on each of your breasts, then mouthing at your neck.
"Ready?" he looks at you for any trace of hesitation, a pinch in your eyebrows that says this is a mistake, but there's only relief, almost like you'd been waiting too long for this. Years of pining could have easily ended much earlier, Eddie's been waiting as much as you have. Too much of a pussy to do anything about it, thinking he was way out of your league.
He tosses those thoughts aside, he has you now, ready and waiting under him. Nodding eagerly to let himself inside you, without wasting a moment.
And when he does, your eyebrows pinch together, but there's relief in your eyes, as you both begin to rock back and forth on the soft mattress. Small whimpers escaping you, grabbing at Eddie's neck for support.
"I've been wanting you like this since our senior prom, Eddie" you mumble, and he feels like an idiot, because he's never connected the dots. His heart hurts for the time you lost, but you lightly take his hand into yours- a silent "you have me now."
With every thrust, he sees your eyes roll back in bliss, letting out the sweetest noises he's ever heard. And he knows it, then, that he wants to keep you forever.
He mumbles your name again, and every time he does, you tighten around him. The world seems to stop for a moment as he chants it like a prayer. Kneeling at the neglected altar of your body, silently begging for forgiveness in his prayer.
But everyone of his wrongdoings seems to be washed away with every moan and whine, your pitch getting higher with every thrust. Eddie speeds up, feeling himself getting closer with a twang of embarrassment. It should have lasted longer.
"'I'm close" you whisper, gripping onto his shoulders, his back, anywhere your hands can grip him, not wanting to let him go. He keeps his pace, noticing a small sliver of tears at your waterline.
When you come undone with a silent scream, biting at his shoulder to not make noise, he follows you soon, spilling himself inside of you with a low groan.
His forehead comes into contact with yours, breathing against you, letting the rise and fall of his chest match yours. Regulating himself before detaching himself from you.
His hand keeps holding on to yours, as you drink in the moment, not wanting to let it escape from your fingertips.
He turns towards you with a smile "So I guess we're next then?"
Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is so incredibly appreciated!
Day 3 is 1989! Fill out the form Here
tagging some people: @strangerstilinski, @taintedcigs, @melodymunson, @reidsbtch, @eddies-house, @eddiesxangel, @lavendermunson, @xxhellfirebunnyxx
#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#best friend!eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#keeks's lover house series
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Sweet dreams
eddie x reader smut
Best friends for over 10 years, nothing could affect Eddie and Y/N’s friendship right? Nothing accept hormones that is
warnings: smut (18+!), this is so long i’m sorry, pussy eating, spit kink, praise kink, minor dom x sub dynamics, unprotected sex, sorta breeding kink if you squint
Eddie couldn't tear his eyes away from you, he felt filthy for watching you like this, but the way his shirt was riding up around your stomach leaving your thighs on view for him was a sight he couldn't bare to miss. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about his best friend like this- it’s not like it was the first time you both had crammed yourself into his single bed after a night of smoking weed and watching movies but there was something about the way you looked in his t-shirt that was making this, well, impossibly hard for him. He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about what it would be like to kiss you, what his hands would feel like on your hips, thighs and other places. Masturbating over his best friend was not something he was proud of, but you were irresistible to him. Eddie had been trying to stop thinking about you like this, in fact the last time he was fucking his hand wishing it was you he swore that would be the last time, you were just friends and that's it. But here you were, laying in his bed, wearing his shirt and he was so hard he thought he was going too combust. Shifting beside you desperately trying to find some relief from what you were doing to him, the sudden movement woke you.
“Eds what are you doing up” you mumble, voice heavy with sleep as you sit up next to him.
“Just can't sleep” he replies, desperately trying to hide how hard he was underneath the blanket.
“Honey you look flushed, are you ill?” reaching over and placing your hand against his cheek to feel if he was warm. He was trying too hard to hold it together but you leaning forward gave him the most sinful view down his shirt at your bare tits. He groaned inadvertently, desperately trying to tear his eyes away before you noticed where he was looking. Finally he met your gaze, noticing how much closer to him your face was now. The way you were looking at him through your thick lashes with yesterdays eyeliner still there was too much for him, he just couldn't hold back anymore. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.
“Eds” you whispered, cheeks flush as your eyes fluttered closed.
“Yeah” he replied, barley audible as he inched his face closer to yours. Slowly he brushed his lips against yours, waiting for you to pull away as he was sure you didn't feel this way but he just had to try. What he wasn't expecting was for you to run your hand through his hair and pull him closer, giving him the sweetest, most gentle kiss. You both pull away quickly, looking at each other with flushed cheeks, breathing heavily.
“y/n, we aren't just friends are we?”
‘I don't think we ever have been Eds” you replied, quickly pulling him in and attaching your lips again. Your hands tangled in his hair as he pulled you onto his lap, deepening the kiss. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, letting out a moan as you inadvertently bucked your hips into his.
“Fuck’ he groaned “You sound even prettier than I imagined’
‘Imagined? You thought about me Eddie?” you reply between kisses.
“Shit, i’ve been thinking about us doing this since that day we went swimming in that lake and you were wearing that goddam black bra and panties”
“God, the way you looked in your wet hellfire t-shirt and boxers after jumping in, i went home and touched myself thinking of you” you moan, grinding your clothed pussy down on him as you attached your lips to his neck.
Eddie thought he was in heaven, not only were you on his lap, kissing his neck and making the most sinful noises but you had thought about this too?
“Fuck you thought about me” he grunted, grabbing your hips and pulling your core closer to him “Tell me what you thought of”
“I-I thought about how your hands would feel on me, fuck, with your rings” you moaned, rocking against him.
“Shit y/n i have to touch you” he never thought that he would want you to take off his shirt, something about you in his oversized band t-shirt made him feel absolutely feral, but now he was getting the opportunity to see what was underneath it? He couldn’t wait any longer.
“Please Eddie, need it so bad, need to see you too” pulling his shirt over your head leaving you in nothing but a pair of black panties, he thought he was going to cum on the spot. Dragging his eyes over your half naked body he froze, because not only were you here, on top of him begging for him to touch you but you had your fucking nipples pierced too.
“Baby you have your nipples pierced?” he was definitely in heaven, the way you were looking up at him almost completely bare with your eyes filled with lust was too good to be true.
“Got them done last summer, you like them?” you nodded shyly.
“I have never been so hard in my life” he couldn’t take his hands off you, touching every inch of your body currently on show for him. He reached forward, grabbing your left breast and squeezing it lightly and watching how your mouth opened from a silent moan when he did.
“Show me” you all but whispered, running your hand down his chest and firmly gripping his cock through his sweatpants. Eddie melted like putty in your hand, he had been thinking about you touching him like this for so long he still couldn’t believe it, and fuck it felt even better than he expected. When he saw you reach into his sweatpants to pull out his cock, he grabbed your hand.
“As much as i would love to feel your hand wrapped around my cock right now, i need to touch you. I’ve wanted this for too long” He grabbed your thighs, flipping you round so you were laying on your back with him over you.
“Touch me, god please” you begged, bucking your hips up in a desperate attempt to find some relief. He slowly dragged your panties down, savouring every new inch of you that he uncovered. Spreading you open for him, he uses one hand to play with your clit as he starts using his teeth to pull off his rings.
“keep them on, uh fuck, keep them on” Eddie stopped, removing his finger from his mouth slowly.
“You want me to keep them on? God your dirtier than i thought you would be” he groaned before slipping two fingers inside you with ease.
“Jesus y/n your so wet” moaning loudly in response, you pulled his mouth towards yours for a searing kiss. You knew Eddie had hooked up with a few girls here and there but god did he know what he was doing. In record time you were getting close, bucking your hips onto his fingers, the cool metal of his rings contrasting how hot he was making you feel.
“Shit i can feel you clenching around me, are you close already?” he laughs, tilting his head teasingly.
“Yes, god yes i’m gonna cum Eds”
“Say my name like that again and i promise to give you the best orgasm of your life” continuing his relentless pace, fingering you with such intensity it was like his life depended on it- and well, it felt like it did. Eddie was sure he was going to die if he didn’t see you cum soon.
“Eds, god, Eds i’m gonna, fuck- i’m cumming” moaning so loudly you are sure the people next door to him will be complaining. The pleasure was like nothing you had felt before, and seeing Eddie on top of you, naked, hard with his hair sticking to his head with a light sheen of sweat your passion had caused it was too much. You bit down on his shoulder in a desperate attempt to quieten yourself, only pulling a loud moan from him instead. Waves of pleasure rode through your body like nothing you had felt before had you riding his fingers until you were a blubbering mess.
“Fuck, you squirted” he moaned, pulling his fingers out of you causing you to groan at the emptiness.
“Don’t complain, i just need you to do that on my face” lowering his head to your soaking pussy. It looked so inviting, he leaned forward and licked a tender strip down your heat, pulling a loud moan from you. That was all the encouragement he needed, beginning to eat you out as though his life depended on it, and god did it feel like it was. Using one hand to grip your thigh so tightly you were sure there would be bruises (and fuck did you hope there were) and the other to roughly grope at your chest, playing with your nipples had you screaming so loudly you clamped a hand over your mouth in desperate attempt to not wake the neighbours. As though he could read your mind, Eddie lifted his head from your pussy and pulled your hand away from your mouth.
“I couldn’t care less about waking them up baby, i’ve been thinking about how pretty you would sound like this for too long to let you hold back” gently biting your inner thigh before continuing his assault on your sensitive clit. Shaking and crying out his name, you were begging him for more and he was more than happy to oblige, slipping two of his fingers inside you. It wasn’t long before you were close again, he could feel you clenching around his fingers and fuck were you tight. You came harder than before, clamping your thighs shut around his head as you rode out your high on his face, covering him in your juices. He lifted his face from your heat, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he looked up at you like a man starved.
“You taste so goddam perfect baby” he groaned, licking his fingers clean of your wetness.
“Please Eds, i wanna make you feel good too” whimpering as you reached forward to grab his cock through his clothes.
“Not today baby, right now i need to be inside you. Wanted this for so long i know i won’t last long” removing his sweatpants and boxers, he reaches over to grab a condom but not before you can stop him.
“I’m on the pill, please i need to feel you, all of you” you begged, looking up at Eddie longingly.
“Shit as if i could say no to that” he replied roughly before sliding himself into you. You both groaned, relishing in how full you felt and how good he was. He started fucking you relentlessly, catching your mouth in a hungry kiss as you lifted a leg up over his shoulder.
“Fuck your flexible too? God your perfect” biting on your calf as he continued his fast pace.
“Eds your so big, ugh i’m so full” you cry, using your other leg to wrap round his waist to pull him further into you. You were both completely lost in each other, moaning and crying out with every thrust.
“Choke me, please” tears streaming down your face from how good he felt. Eddie’s eyes became darker, wrapping his ring-covered fingers round your throat and giving it a light squeeze, pulling a loud moan from you.
“Your so dirty, shit, can feel you clenching around me every time i squeeze your neck” he grunted breathlessly, continuing his relentless pace “Gonna fuck you so good no one else can compare”
“But i’m already yours Eds” you cried out “M’ yours oh!”
“Been waiting so long to hear you say that, god, open your mouth for me” obeying, you stick your tongue out patiently as he leans down and spits directly onto it. Moaning, you swallow it all as he looks down at you longingly. You were so close, it was all too much, the way he was looking at you, how he was claiming you, almost marking you as his. He could feel his high nearing too, reaching down to rub your clit so you could cum first. You came with a loud moan of his name, clawing his back so much you were sure he was going to bleed.
“Need you to fill me up, fuck, cum inside me” your begging was enough to tip him over the edge, emptying himself inside you with a shout of your name. He slowly pulled out of you, rolling down so he was laying beside you.
“Hi”
“Hi? baby don’t go shy on me now, not after that performance” he laughed breathlessly, brushing some hair away from your face “I like you y/n, i have for a long time, be mine?”
“I’m already yours Eddie, i always have been” you replied, curling into his arms. Gently kissing your forehead, he rests his face against yours before closing his eyes, hoping that when he wakes up this won’t all have been some cruel dream.
#eddie my beloved#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#best friends to lovers
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Trouble Next Door Part 22: Sixteen
Masterlist: here
TW: Mentions of cheating
Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @makingmunson94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99 @idkbbyx3 @amberpanda99 @munsonmecrazy
A/N: This had to be done and I need y’all to not yell at me okay? That’d be great👀✨
#trouble next door#eddie munson slow burn#Eddie Munson social media au#eddie munson friends to lovers#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson au#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x best friend reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things au#stranger things social media au#tw cheating#my little dungeon master baby
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Nothing Else Matters plays softly from the little cassette player Steve keeps next to the fridge. Eddie walks in and immediately pulls Steve into his arms, slow dances him around the kitchen.
The song ends and they laugh, wrestle around. There's something about the brightness in Eddie's big eyes, the blush across his cheekbones that gives Steve butterflies, has warmth gathering deep in his stomach.
They're not together.
But for the first time Steve realizes maybe there's a reason he hasn't gone on more than a first date since 1989.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#fluff#oblivious steve harrington#eddie falls first steve falls harder#best friends to lovers#not so unrequited#nothing else matters#it feels so on the nose to make this steddie but also i'm gonna#anyway eddie cries the first time he hears this song cause he's so in love with steve he can't bear it
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best-friend Eddie being secretly in love with you would include:
masterlist
> holding hands “platonically” except his thumb always gently caresses you
> “platonic” cheek and forehead kisses
> driving you to and from school / uni / hellfire everyday
> randomly showing up at your door at least once a week with snacks for a movie night
> “platonically” leaning on each other during said movie night (it’s literally cuddling)
> sleeping in the same bed at sleepovers and no there is no pillow wall
> Eddie “platonically” and “accidentally” cuddling you in his sleep (he can’t help that he’s drawn to you in his sleep)
> you both always sleep better when you’re next to each other
> he’s constantly putting his jackets over you when it’s cold and convincing you to wear his clothes to school after sleepovers because “there’s no point going back to yours when there’s clothes here”
> pet names!!! sweetheart, doll, angel, my girl, darling
> his front seat being reserved for you (he borderline doesn’t let anyone else sit there even when you’re not there because they’ll ruin his best girls chair)
> being backstage or right at the front to all of his gigs and he literally sings only to you
> smoking together all the time if that’s your thing (if not he still loves lounging around)
> constantly almost confessing your love for each other: drunk almost kisses, tired mumblings…
> on new years he sees you staring at one of your friends getting their 12am kiss and crashes his lips to yours
> you both justify it by wanting a new years kiss and he was doing you a favour but my god was it the best kiss either of you have ever had in your lives
> brushing off all of these because yes, he’s a gentleman but he’s also in love with you
———
Requests open!!
#eddiemunson#Eddie munson#stranger things#best friends to lovers#best friend eddie#best friend!eddie#eddie#Eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#st
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Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Actress!Reader
★ Summary: It’s the ‘90s in LA and you and your best friend Eddie have both made it big. The following is a series of Interviews, News Reports and One Shots showing you and Eddie’s story throughout the years.
★ Chapter Summary: Eddie drags you onto a late night talk show.
★ Word count: 3.1k
★ Warnings: brief mention of throwing up (doesn't happen just mentioned), Anxiety, Stage Fright, Panic Attacks, Reader is wearing a dress and heels, If I missed anything please let me know 18+only, Minors DNI
Series Masterlist
Chapter one: Flashbacks
June 1990
You adjusted the microphone clipped to your chest one more time before you heard your name announced through the loud speaker.
“Have fun!” The nice lady with the clipboard and earpiece chirped at you before she gave your back a gentle shove to get moving. You hobbled forward, legs shaking from the rush of anxiety. Is this how Eddie feels before he performs for thousands of people? It can’t be the same.
Loud upbeat jazz music played from the live band on the corner of the stage to make your entrance more dramatic. Like you were supposed to be someone important.
Times like these made you thankful that you chose to be a screen actor and not a stage actor. You couldn’t handle the pressure of the live crowd. All of those expectant eyes staring at you and taking in your every move, just waiting for you to mess up somehow.
It was different when it was just you and crew on a movie set. You could mess up and have the chance to redo things. No one judged you for forgetting a line or giggling during a difficult scene. A good director would just call cut and start over.
Real life wasn’t so forgiving.
One foot in front of the other, your heels clicked across the polished floor as you made your way onto the stage where Eddie and the host stood and waited for you with smiles on their faces.
Eddie had a hand out to you to help you to your seat. He wore his tight leather pants and a billowy black shirt that was unbuttoned down his chest, showing off pale skin and tattoos. His thick black boots pulled the look all together. You thought he looked like some sort of rugged rocker pirate.
He looked much more relaxed like this compared to you, who got shoved into a tight dress and heels despite your protesting.
This is what stars do. These are the sacrifices you have to make.
When Eddie called you and begged you to come onto this late night show with him, you initially laughed and told him to shove it where the sun doesn't shine. This wasn’t your first talk show, having done a few when you first started taking off a couple of years ago after landing your breakout role. But you have avoided doing anything like this ever since then. Every time you stepped out under the lights and saw the live audience your stomach shriveled up.
How ironic was it to be an actress with crippling stage fright.
It wasn’t only the crowd that got to you. The hosts always had a way to make these things feel like normal conversations when really they wanted to sensationalize everything. A seemingly innocent question could start a forest fire that would have tabloids and paparazzi chasing you down for weeks or even in unlucky cases, years.
Eddie caught your eye as you approached the chair beside him. He gave you a small wink and greeted you like he hadn’t just been offering to hold a trash can for you to puke into in your dressing room.
“I already talked to Margie about it. She thinks it’s a great idea,” he had said smugly on the phone when he called to talk you into doing this.
“Who gave you my manager's number and why do you think you can call her whenever you want?” You had asked him, pissed off that he had thought to go around you. He knew once he involved Margie you would have a hard time getting out of it.
“Margie gave me her number a while ago.” You could imagine him waving his hand in the air like it didn’t matter. “I knew it would come in handy one day.”
And he was right, of course. Margie insisted that it would be great to go on the talk show and rub elbows. Let Eddie charm the fans while talking up your upcoming movie and his upcoming album and tour.
“The press loves to see you two together!” Margie had reminded you when she left you with no choice but to come to this tonight.
The host, Johnny Flick, waited behind his large desk with a bright smile, leaning over it to shake your hand. His teeth were unnaturally white. His hair bleached and combed back into a high pompadour.
You thought it was kind of funny that he used a desk for live TV interviews like these. Almost like he was a judge presiding over his court.
“Welcome! Welcome!” He greeted you as you sat in the cushioned chair beside Eddie. Johnny adjusted the large microphone that sat in front of him so it was closer to his mouth.
The crowd applauded and cheered even louder as you gave them a little wave. The sound was a deafening roar, making your ears rumble. At least the girls weren’t letting out high pitched squeals for you like they did when Eddie sauntered up to his seat before you.
“Hi, Johnny,” you said sweetly, flashing him your best smile.
Fake it till you make it.
The crowd hushed to allow the interview to get started.
“Let me tell you, I am so happy you decided to join us tonight!” Johnny said enthusiastically, eliciting another cheer from the crowd.
“Happy to be here,” you smiled back while mentally calling Eddie every bad name in the book.
“Glad to hear it! Now, I’m going to jump right into it. I heard through the grapevine that you and Eddie have quite the history together! Is that right?” Johnny asked with a salacious smile and a wink.
There it was. Fishing for information. Anything to get their show more ratings. Twist and turn things to make them more scandalous than they actually are.
He didn’t even bother asking how you were. He just jumped right into the juicy stuff.
Eddie sat forward, his charming smirk on display. The one that had anyone and everyone dropping their panties in a heartbeat.You thought you heard a girl gasp loudly from the front row. You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the theatrics of it all.
You were immune to Eddie’s shenanigans.
“You’re looking at the longest relationship I’ve ever been in,” Eddie crooned from beside you.
He was really dialing it up tonight. His rockstar persona was in full force that had every eye focused on him. You were thankful though because you knew what he was doing. Getting the attention off of you. You wondered at what point he felt bad about forcing your hand to be on the show with him. Was it during your first panic attack of the night or the second?
“Is that so?” Johnny questioned, taken off guard while he glanced down at the cheat sheet of notes in front of him.
You thought you heard someone break out in tears at the thought of Eddie not being single.
You sighed. “We’ve been best friends for about twelve years,” you spoke up before a riot could start, a smile still plastered to your face. How long would you have to smile like this before it became permanently stuck onto your face?
It wasn’t the first time you had to clarify that you and Eddie were just friends. And it wouldn’t be the last.
“Twelve years! That’s amazing. I know of marriages that don’t last that long,” Johnny exclaimed. The audience gave a well timed laugh. You wondered if there was an illuminated sign that told them when to laugh like in the movies.
You remembered that day from twelve years ago well. The day you approached the skinny kid with a buzz cut and big brown eyes that sat out on the trailer steps across from where you lived with your grandmother. You noticed everyday the first couple of weeks he moved in he would only play by himself. You would strain your ears trying to hear the fantasy stories he would mutter to himself while drawing in his notebook or playing with dragon figurines.
One day you approached him and asked him to tell you some of the stories about the dragons. The both of you had been inseparable ever since.
So when Eddie thought he could travel to LA to make a name for himself, it was a no brainer for you to follow.
Once the laughter died down Johnny spoke again, “And how did you two both manage to make it big?”
“Well,” Eddie said, taking the reins for you once again. “I had a hard time graduating highschool so when I wanted to come out to California to start over, I begged my best friend here to come with me to keep me out of trouble,” he said with a chuckle, his eyes softening at the memory. You could tell he was picturing the time he got on both knees and held onto your ankles, crying and pleading for you to come with him so he wouldn’t have to come out here alone. Even though all of Corroded Coffin was coming with him. Of course he always left that part out of the retelling of the story. “We both got lucky I guess. Corroded Coffin landed a record deal within the first year and a month after that she landed her first big role. It was just dumb luck.”
You smiled and nodded along. You wondered how long you could get away with just doing that.
Margie liked to call you ‘the most introverted celebrity’ she had ever met. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be offended. It was the truth. You attended the red carpets and movie premiers just to go home as soon as possible and curl up on your couch alone.
“No way that was just luck! You are both way too talented for that!” Johnny said loudly. The crowd murmured enthusiastically in agreement.
“I think she’s the more talented one out of the two of us. Did you see that she has a new movie coming out in a few weeks? It’s going to be great,” Eddie said as he knocked a knuckle against your shoulder.
“Yes! And we will show the trailer for that in just a bit! Now do you have any embarrassing stories from when you were younger?” Johnny asked, leaning in close to you and Eddie like he was a friend to you both.
“I left my notebook full of embarrassing stories about Eddie somewhere at home,” you tried to deflect with a laugh.
“Oh, come on! Let’s hear one! Eddie, do you have any embarrassing stories to share?” Jonny pushed with a big smile.
The crowd cheered in agreement.
“I’ll tell you one,” Eddie announced from beside you. “One time she had to come rescue me from prom because my date was actually a prank. I got so embarrassed that I hid in the bathroom for at least an hour.”
The crowd awed at his story. You apologized in your mind for all the mean words you had mentally thrown at him earlier. He could have easily told him the thousands of the stories he had of you. But instead, he chose to pick on himself.
“It’s true,” you nodded with a sad smile. “I had to go into the mens bathroom and everything to drag him out.”
To this day, you still had a vow to beat up Jenny Johnson if you ever saw her again.
What he wasn’t telling them was that after you showed up to rescue him, he pulled you out onto the dance floor for just one dance.
Neither of you were telling that it happened to be a slow song by the time you made it to the dance floor. And you definitely weren’t going to share how neither of you had brought up the kiss since it happened five years ago.
“That’s a good friend!” Johnny proclaimed, pulling you out of the memory.
“The best,” Eddie agreed softly, drawing your attention over to him.
He smiled at you, not the panty dropping smirk he reserved for everyone else, but instead his actual smile. The kind of smile that had the corner of his eyes crinkling. You smiled back, your real smile too.
For a moment you almost forgot that you had cameras practically in your face, broadcasting every facial expression and answer live to the people at home. The audience disappeared into the void. It was just you and your best friend. Just you and Eddie.
“So, any other special relationships we should know about?” Johnny asked, you could see the lines where his spray tan streaked on his neck as he turned to you.
You were used to this question. Margie, along with your publicist, drilled it into you at this point in your career where you were still up and rising to keep the answer to this question vague. You had to seem available in order to draw people in.
“Oh, nothing serious,” you smiled widely back at Johnny like you were letting him in on a secret.
“And what about you Eddie? Anything serious for you right now?”
Eddie turned to the crowd and flashed them a toothy grin. More girls screamed. The Bermuda Triangle stopped being weird. World Peace was declared.
“You know I’m not ready to settle down,” he said seductively. “If someone special decides to speak up then maybe I’ll change my mind.”
There was the chatter of a bunch of audience members talking over each other, trying to see who could be the loudest to get Eddie’s attention.
The back of your neck had an uncomfortable chill. It wasn’t a secret that Eddie had really enjoyed his time being single and famous. He had taken the chance to enjoy all of the perks of being a sex symbol.
Or at least that’s what you had seen in the gossip columns that you shamelessly still read. Eddie never once flaunted that part of his life in front of you. He shielded you from all of the dirty parts of rock’n’roll.
“And with that we’re going to head to commercial break where we get to see that trailer we promised you and when we come back Corroded Coffin is going to play us something from their new album Red Distortion!”
The crowd cheered as you and Eddie gave the cameras a wave before they zoomed away from you. Once you were in the clear, you stood to exit the stage while the band rushed together to prepare for the performance part.
Margie waited for you at the stage exit. “You did great,” she said, her red lipstick cracking on her lips. An assistant from the sound crew unhooked you from your mic expertly.
“I’m so ready to go home,” you murmured to her as you stood and waited for the break to be over and for Eddie to start playing. If it wasn’t for that, you would already be in a car by now heading back to your condo.
Margie chattered in your ear with a hushed tone. Something about numbers and ratings that you didn’t have the mental capacity to retain at the moment.
The break passed by quickly, and before you knew it Eddie was strumming on his guitar for the opening of his new song Numb.
Moments like these reminded you of when you used to sit front row at The Hideout. You would sing along loudly to every song Eddie would play, even if you were the only one watching them. Eddie’s eyes would always focus on you while he sang, like it was just the two of you there. He called you his best fan ever even though at one point you were probably his only one.
Eddie’s eyes flicked over to where you stood backstage, like he could feel your stare. He gave you a playful wink that you rolled your eyes at before he faced the audience again.
Even though you hated the crowds, you still loved your job. When you came out here with Eddie you never planned on getting into acting. It was never something you had imagined doing even when you were younger. You never did theater or drama in school, for obvious reasons. But one day while with Eddie at the recording studio one of the guys there knew someone who was looking for a new and unheard actress for his up and coming movie. And you happened to fit the description. Since then, your career took off beside Eddie’s.
It sure did beat working at the gas station like you did when you were in Hawkins.
Before you knew it, Eddie was barreling towards you with his guitar slung on his back.
“You did great!” Margie cooed at Eddie, taking the time to smooth the top of her short hair.
Eddie ignored her. “Yeah, this sucks,” he said as he threw an arm around you, the smell of his spicy cologne hitting your nose. You leaned into him, hoping to take some pressure off your feet as he led you back towards the back door. Margie followed along, her shoes loudly clicking across the floor as she tried to keep up. You felt bad that she was carrying your purse on top of her own things, but it was safer to fight off the crowds when you had both hands free.
“I’ll understand if you never forgive me, sweetheart. But hopefully taking you out on a late night food run will make it up to you?” Eddie asked, eyes pleading. He knew how miserable you were. He had never been to something like this with you before so you didn’t think he had believed you when you told him how much you hated them.
You bet he believed you now.
You sighed like you were thinking about it. “I mean, gracing you with my presence is the least I can do since you’ll be on tour soon,” you said lightheartedly.
Eddie plucked the side of your face. He knew how much you both missed each other when he was away. This wasn’t the first tour he had been on and it wouldn’t be the last. He was just as grumbly when you were the one having to travel away from LA to film. You were never gone for six months straight like he was about to be though.
Security flanked you, preparing for the crowd and chaos that was about to transpire.
“Alright. Let’s go,” Eddie said as he pulled you close protectively and led you out of the back of the studio where the fans and flashing lights awaited.
#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x fem! reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munon x reader#rockstar!eddie munson x actress!reader#eddie munson best friend#eddie munson bestfriends to lovers#rockstar!eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson au#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson series#eddie munson#eddie stranger things
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whatever you do DONT think about eddie leading steve on bc he thinks he's still a king steve branded fuck head and is waiting for the ball to drop.
don't think about steve letting him host hellfire in his basement and accidentally overhearing all of them talking shit, even eddie, and it coming out that "i only started talking to him because the little sheepies told me who cool he is. do i believe them?" eddie scoffs. "of course not. he's still a douche but hey. if he wants us here then i can kiss and play pretend." and yeah. eddie can be mean. it's a result of bullies and bad fathers, a defense mechanism.
steve tries to not let it show when he continues down the stairs with the tray of cookies in his hands, soft smile on his face, ignoring the less than nice laughing at his expense.
eddie notices the odd look on steve's face, the way his head hangs when he trudges back up the stairs, not sitting on the couch like he usually does. and he feels a pang in his chest. is that guilt? what does he have to be guilty about?
the others are watching him, weary smiles on their faces. "do you think he heard us?" jeff asks tentatively. eddie scoffs once more, "so what if he did? it's what he deserves."
and there's that pang in his chest again.
---
it's halfway through the campaign when eddie calls a break and goes up stairs to get some drinks for everyone.
he's about to walk into the kitchen when he hears a voice, and quiet sniffles.
"i thought i changed, robs. i- i try so hard, and it just. im not my dad, i never want to be him. why can't i-" eddie listens as steve cries, hearing... robin buckley of all people float from the receiver. "steve, if he can't appreciate you, fuck him. you've tried to apologize and make it up, if he can't see that then he's just an asshole."
"no. he's right. i deserve it. god, im so stupid! i can't believe i thought he actually liked me. fuck! who would?" he hears a heavy sigh.
"good night rob. sorry for that. thanks- uh. thanks for talking." and the phone is hung up.
eddie rounds the corner finally to see steve furiously wiping away the tears that continue to roll down his face. steve's head whips up at the sound of eddie's feet, he sniffles hard, forcing a smile on his face. "h-hey eddie! uh, sorry. allergies... yknow." he clumsily points to his face. he shrugs, "uh. did you- did you need anything? or. oh! uh. i ordered pizza. it should um, be here soon... i just got cheese..."
eddie stares. "uh. yeah. that's fine. i was just getting some drinks." he said, awkward and stuttering.
"oh! i bought you guys some coke, i put 'em in the fridge so they'd be cold." eddie's still staring as steve walks to the refrigerator and pulls out coke, sprite, and even sunkist. he'd only mentioned that it was his favorite once, but steve. steve had remembered, and there is was.
"thanks." eddie said, taking the cases down stairs, reeling over the interaction that had accidentally knocked an epiphany into his head.
he set the soda on the table grabbing the attention of the club members. "i think i fucked up. i think steve... is a nice guy...?" it's silent for a moment.
"he is pretty cool. i mean. not even your mom would let us play in her basement, gare." it's jeff who speaks up, and this makes eddie's head drop, and hang low.
"we fucked up."
--
now with a part 2
#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#robin buckley#best friend robin#jeff stranger things#gareth emerson#gareth stranger things#pre steddie#enimes to lovers#steddie angst#steve harrington angst#steve is trying to be a better person#steddie ficlet#hellfire club#stranger things hellfire club#stranger things ficlet#best friend robin buckley
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turtle dove and the crow, part four
A 1940s Farm AU, featuring bsf!neighbor!eddie x fem!reader
story tags: 18+ (minors dni). smut; true love; unexpected pregnancy; angst, angst, angst; parental issues; corporal punishment; scheming, plotting, and betrayal; hurt/comfort; period-typical stigma regarding unwed pregnancy; angst with a happy ending.
chapter tags: please heed this warning and decide if you are prepared to read this chapter, which includes scenes of harsh but period-accurate parental abuse against an 18-year old child. this includes emotional and mental abuse in the form of 'discipline' and depictions of physical punishment. these methods are always harmful and never appropriate. they do not represent the views of the author.
avoiding tw/cw's? read the part four summary instead
masterlist | part one | part two | part three | interlude | part four | part five | part six | epilogue | playlist
PART FOUR: THE WEIGHT BENEATH THE SUN (8.6K)
It’s hard to make the moment last
Hard to keep the dreams you have
Hard to let the love inside your heart
The guards are always at the gates
Turning everyone away
But you got through
Didn’t you?
You’re the One I Want — Chris and Thomas
When you were six— two years before Edward Munson became the new boy next door— your mother still hosted garden parties during the warm months. Pa would arrange the iron furniture into a pleasing configuration, ensuring the grass was level and dry beneath the table's heavy feet. The stiff-backed chairs would be spaced precisely from its wrought edges, far enough for ease of entry but close enough that the ladies would not have to stretch their arms too far to reach the cucumber sandwiches. Those Mama would assemble in careful layers, laying them out on a ceramic platter decorated with filigree. Mama's finest pitcher, made of delicate glass and attractive curves, would be used to serve fresh-squeezed lemonade. She'd garnish the sweet drink with muddled mint leaves plucked from the small personal garden she carefully maintains against the backyard fence. A generous spray of flowers would finish the trio of treasures awaiting the town's ladies, invited by your mother for an afternoon of light refreshments and genteel socializing.
Your sister, Virginia, has the supreme honor of being allowed to join the garden party for the first time this year. She is five years your senior in age and ten your superior in manner, evident in the graceful way she smooths the skirt of her shiny pink dress, perching herself with impeccable posture on the very edge of the iron chair situated to your mother’s right side. Poised and prim, Virginia accepts a glass of lemonade, taking a tiny sip before placing the china delicately to the right of her plate. Ever observant, her eyes dart around the table, absorbing gestures with ease; she follows her sip quickly with a dab of her napkin before arranging it dutifully on her lap again. She is rewarded for this, as the ladies generously indulge her presence among them.
You would be jealous of your sister's invitation if you gave a hoot about such things, but you are entirely disinterested in all of it. You care not for hushed titters floating from beneath their sunbonnets and the passing of cucumber sandwiches, which are nibbled little by little and then chewed behind demure palms as gossip is exchanged. Instead, you've happily plopped yourself behind the apple tree, back to rough bark and short legs spread wide in the ticklish grass.
Methodically, one by one, you have been picking the delicate yellow petals off the heads of dandelion weeds, dropping each one to collect in the basin of the sunbonnet cradled between your thighs. It's painstaking work and nonsensical, perhaps, but it serves to satisfy some innate curiosity inside you. The purpose of this is unclear; your actions are confusing, the way children's play is often confusing to everyone but the child. But since you are quietly occupying yourself, and your mother and sister are busy socializing, they are happy to leave you to your own devices.
They are happy, that is, until your eye is caught by something much more exciting than plucking weeds.
Your neighbor down the lane has just finished imparting some succulent gossip to the gathering, and her lips are pursed against a grin as she relishes the reaction to her news. Her revelation has the intended effect: shock ripples around the table, but it is mixed with the suppressed delight of knowing a new, tantalizing secret. The party-goers exchange glances, searching for cues in one another, all wanting to know more but reluctant to appear too eager.
"Oh, my goodness." Mama places her hand over her heart as if in regret, but her eyes are gleaming. Interest thrums within the hush of her voice as she begins to ask, "And what d'you suppose he might now do, on account of—?"
"Mama!"
Her question is interrupted by your delighted cry. She turns to see you holding aloft that which made you abandon your collection. Back by the tree, those petals have spilled from the tipped sunbonnet to scatter heedlessly across the grass. "Look't what I caught!" you squeak, eyes alight with eager, innocent delight. "It's a big one, too!"
Despite your excitement, you cradle the large bullfrog gently in your hands, mindful of its comfort as you present it to your mother. You considered it quite the feat to catch the frog without causing it alarm, and when its strong legs twitch against your palm without attempting to flee, pride glows beneath the dirt streaks on your round cheeks.
Your mother does not share your sentiment.
The way her expression contorts is so opposite what you expected that she may as well have smacked you across the face. Your earlier excitement is smothered like water douses a match, and promptly, you drop the frog.
You drop it as if by acting quickly, you can undo whatever has caused your Mama offense. But it is not enough. Your mother stares at you, and though the look in her eyes is one you are too young to fully decipher, a parent's disapproval is sensed innately, and felt deeply.
One year after you drop the bullfrog, Mama will sell the garden furniture to purchase seeds and stock in preparation for the coming hardship, and the garden parties would end. Two years after you drop the bullfrog, Eddie will roll in like a summer storm to join his uncle in the red house next door. Seven years after you drop the bullfrog, Virginia will establish a nest of her own, leaving you as the only unwed daughter left in your parents' roost. But no matter how many years pass, you will never forget how your mother's stare made you feel. In the garden, a heavy stone sank in your gut, sickeningly leaden, steadily crushing your delicate insides with each second you spent pinned by her furious stare.
This moment in the hayloft reminds you of that. But there is no stone of lead in your stomach this time. This time, with the salt tang of Eddie's seed still lingering on your lips, your entire body turns to solid, petrified rock.
Your mother stares up at you from the barn floor. Her face is contorted, screwed up tight with shock and rage, but her eyes are wide, wide enough to swallow you up entirely like a sinkhole would. She traps you. And you remain there, locked tight until the seethe of her voice boils hot from between her lips, blistering the ruddy flesh on its path to you.
"Git. Down. Here."
Each word is a spitfire bullet, enunciated so precisely so as not to be misconstrued. The burn rushes down your spine to melt your solid rock into magma.
Your muscles are clenched tight, but the warm pulse once stoked between your legs has deadened. You're thrumming instead with horror, with deep, all-consuming dread. Where one moment ago you were heavy as a sinking stone, now you are unsteady, shaky like the first time Eddie coaxed you into a rowboat.
You can't grab hold of his rough, broad palm to settle yourself this time, and you don't dare risk a glance at the man still nestled in that soft bed of hay. To catch his eye would be torture of a different kind. Instead, you rush to obey your mother's command. Your knee scrapes raw against old, splintery wood as you scramble around and dip one foot to catch the rung of the ladder.
It's a sturdy old thing, that ladder. Good thing, too, because it holds fast as you cling to it with shuddering fingers and legs so wobbly, they clatter against its rungs with each step toward the perilous ground. By the time you reach the floor, the knee you'd scraped has gone numb. You want to turn your chin down and see if your dress has bloomed a crimson flower of blood, but your neck is unyielding. It's hard enough to step back from the security the ladder provides. All the will your spirit possesses must be channeled into facing the woman looming like a cloud of miasma behind you.
There is no time to brace for a confrontation, but you force your face into as docile an expression as possible before you meet your Mama head-on. She is short and portly, hunched up in such a way as to make her smaller in theory, though, in reality, the sight is only more imposing to you. You expect to meet her piercing stare again, but she isn't looking at you. Instead, she's got one eye hooked on the edge of the hayloft and her lip caught in a sneer so deep it's almost a snarl.
"You too, Edward," she spits, and your throat dries to dust. "Don't think I'm ignorant of your bein' up there with'r."
The silence that follows is stifling, crowding in on you from all sides. The pressure doesn't ease even as that pregnant pause turns to the creaking and groaning of wood, which protests as the weight of an unseen body shifts toward the hayloft's edge. The thud of booted feet that replaces the wood's cry is little consolation; your heart kicks up at the steady plod that commences, matching it in rhythm but pounding twice as fast. You don't dare to turn and look or even to fiddle with your skirt nervously. Your hands remain still at your sides as your mother stares above your head, watching Eddie climb down from the hayloft. Her eyes dip slowly and steadily along with the thumping of those booted feet until her gaze is even with your face. The final step down behind you is quieter than the rest, and your throat tightens as you sense Eddie's hesitance in the sound.
As he alights on the ground, Mama's eyes suddenly shift. Where once she had been staring almost uncannily in your direction, as if she may or may not have been trying to look you in the eye, a sudden cut and glint make it abundantly clear that now— now— your mother is gazing directly at you.
It's all you can do to keep from trembling.
You vaguely hear the shuffle-scrape of Eddie's footsteps and feel the warmth of his body as he comes to stand beside you. The tiniest glance reveals the extent of his mortification: his pale cheeks are beet red with a flush that creeps down his throbbing neck, and his eyes are squinched half-shut as if bracing for a blow. His adam's apple bobs, and unconsciously, you swallow at the same time.
When Eddie finally opens his mouth, all that eeks out is the briefest croak before your mother interrupts coldly. "You best be gettin' home to your uncle now, Edward."
While the words don't drip with venom, the mention of Wayne is nothing if not a threat, and Eddie recognizes it as so. You would never expect him to argue; in fact, you'd be dismayed if he had, but the thought of facing your mother's wrath alone covers the frozen dread inside you with a fine layer of poignant sorrow. You are heavy, but now you are empty, too.
Weakly, Eddie clears his throat to rasp, "Yes, ma'am." Your chin trembles at the sound of his voice, but your eyes only begin to sting when you feel the soft, subtle draw of his fingers across the small of your back as he passes by you to disappear out of sight beyond the barn doors. The touch is one last offering of comfort from your beloved before you both must face the consequence of your transgressions.
In the kitchen, Mama takes you apart.
The way she lashes you with her tongue is harsh and unforgiving. Each word darts across the kitchen counter, catches you with its claws, and burrows beneath your tender skin, sinking deep to carve into your marrow.
"How dare you." Her voice quivers with the force of her rage. "How dare you bring such disgrace upon our family. You know darn well that we forbade you from seeing that boy, yet you went behind our backs anyway. And now, to make matters worse, I find you been carryin' on like a," her lips twist up to spit a sharper barb, "hussy up in the hayloft. What kind of a girl do you think that makes you, y/n?"
She pauses long enough to make you question whether she expects an answer, but she carries on without you. Her eyes dart along the cabinets, unseeing as she chuckles mirthlessly. "And, oh. M'blood could just boil thinkin' how that boy could set there at his dinner table and talk about how good we raised our daughter, only for you two t'turn around and… and…."
She stutters off, wild eyes rolling as she works herself up. The deepening of her wince uglies her visage, so that lines crease at the corners of her mouth where before there were none. And oh, how foolish you were to think the sight of her bulging eyes would be in any way gratifying. How deeply, utterly stupid of you to think such a thing.
"What you done is unspeakable. How'm I supposed to show my face in town, knowing what you been up to right underneath my nose? It turns my stomach just to think about what y'were doin' up there w'him."
Each word sinks deep inside you. It’s a barrage of all you deserve because it's the truth. And this is just the beginning. Because there's disgust there, in Mama's screwed-up face, and there's fury, too. But beneath those, there's also hurt— the evidence of a deep wound torn open by your impropriety. It's a hurt you aren't sure you can mend.
At that realization, fat, hot tears begin to roll unimpeded down your cheeks. They drip from your quivering chin, which tightens with the occasional sniffle as you try to keep yourself from collapsing to the floor, wrapping your arms around your mother’s skirt, and pressing yourself to her shins in pitiful supplication.
Though Mama is looking at you, she doesn't seem to register that you've started to cry. "I just can't understand it." Mama's fingers press divots into her temples, and her head wags absently as if in subconscious denial. "Virginia was your age when she married her Lawrence. She knew the way of things. And now look at 'er— got her own home and three children to raise." Her hands drop sharply, and a flash of judgment returns. "She's a proper lady. And then what d'we have? You. I never thought I'd see the day when a daughter of mine would behave like this."
The burrs stick sharply, coating you in a prickly sadness that only intensifies when your Mama's plump arms tighten to her sides, crossing beneath her bosom, cinching in tight as she presses a fist to her lips.
"Lord help me— what'm I gonna do with you now?"
It's so much quieter than all else she's said, so much duller, and yet all the more painful for it.
Her name on your lips is a whimper, a sob, a plea all at once. "Mama—" You suddenly feel no more than six years old with dirt streaked on your shameful cheeks, filled with the crushing sense of all you've done wrong.
"Don't." She cuts you off firmly. Your teeth click together painfully as your jaw snaps closed. She stares at you for a long moment. "Th'last thing I wanna do is talk about what was goin' on up there, but clearly…"
You read the intention in your mother's restless shifting, the discomfited rocking of her heels. Heat floods up your throat, a sickly blaze of shame. "Well," she continues stiffly, "I know y'had your mouth on him, and that's… that's one thing. But I need to know." Her fist drops to reveal a stiff upper lip, but her voice quavers slightly as she asks a question that doesn't stick like burrs or burrow beneath your skin. Instead, it pierces straight through the center of you.
"Have you had relations with Edward?"
Your shock is like the firm twist of a leaky spigot. The steady flow of your tears ceases so abruptly that it's nearly enough to distract from the question itself.
Nearly enough. Not quite enough.
Horrified panic surges up as the question sinks in: Mama's askin' me if I had sex with Eddie. The feeling claws its way past your stomach, past your heart, past the heat in your throat, and straight up to your head. It rushes there, leaving you dizzy. Black fuzz spreads across your vision.
And the lie springs up, ready and poised behind your teeth. It's a denial borne of fear, desperation, and the deep ache beating in the child's heart still nestled within your grown one. That tiny heart flutters against your ribs, recalling the plink of music box drift-offs and gentle John the Rabbit wake-ups; the balm of kisses pressed to scraped knees and hurt feelings wrung out with tight hugs; the roundness of laughing cheeks streaked with flour and little hands cradled in large palms, guided to knead love into dough, right here, in this room, all those years ago.
Could you survive the loss that would come with confession? Could you bear to see the lingering light— the final vestige of a mother's regard for her child— die behind her eyes?
Led by a child's heart and a mind seized by panic, the choice you make is not a choice, but an inevitability.
"No," you whimper, and such sincerity pools within your eyes that even one who knows better might be convinced you believe that. "No, I din't lay with him, Mama. I swear it."
The softening of her features, fractional though it is, brings you such tender relief that tears spring anew at the corners of your lashes.
"Well, all right," she says finally, and while her voice isn't quite fond, you can see the creases around her mouth ease, fading from deep crevices back to the faint lines you're familiar with. It's a gift you wouldn't dare waste. "Y'know what needs to be done, then."
Without a hint of protest, you retrieve the wooden spoon from the crock on the counter, passing it into your mother's waiting hand and presenting your backside to her.
With balled fists and a rigid spine, you take your punishment. You press your lips flat to keep all your noises in as Mama spanks you with the rounded back of the wooden spoon. The even raps— ten against your clothed buttocks— smart and sting, but they do not ache. Her actions are not hesitant or reluctant, but they aren’t gluttonous either. Your mother does not grow fat feasting on your pain; she is merely obliged to provide it.
You are braced for another impact when you hear the spoon clatter back into the crock. When you realize another blow will not come, you face her again. Silence reigns the room as you take stock of yourself: warm, stinging skin, pressure in your cheeks, nose, and forehead from crying, and a new, yawning hollowness inside.
"M'sorry, Mama," you sniffle, throat thick with remorse, "M'sorry for disobeying you, a-and bringin' shame on the family. I— I jus'..." You choke and try again. "I—"
There is only one justification, however inadequate it might seem to your mother. It's spoken in the misery of your crumpled brow, in the glaze of your big wet eyes, in the copper of your lower lip where you've worried the spot Eddie's kisses still sweetly linger.
I love him.
"I know." Mama replies as if you'd said it aloud, and her voice is tight, tight with what she is trying to suppress. "I know you do." Her bosom heaves with a heavy, bracing sigh. "But y'know what your Pa said." She doesn’t seem to feel the need to be more specific, and you muster a smidgeon of gratitude for that.
"I know," you echo her, and your voice is tiny and broken. You are tiny and broken. And tired. You realize all at once that you are so tired, it's a labor just to keep from lying down right here on the floor. "R'you gonna tell 'im what I did?"
A jerky nod confirms it, and you think you'd feel more afraid if you could feel anything at all. "I'll speak with your Pa when he gets home," Mama tells you. "Now go'n up to your room. Don't expect you'll get any supper tonight."
You stare at her, solemn and unresisting, and in that stillness, you can see the moment she hesitates. The flicker that passes across her crinkled eyes is brief, but you see it, and the hush of her voice tells a story all its own. "Don't come down for nothin'," she murmurs intently. "No matter what y'hear. Just stay in your room 'til the morning. Hear me?"
You can feel yourself wilt further into exhaustion with each passing moment. "Yes, Mama," you croak in dutiful agreement.
The press of her cool palm against your warm, sticky cheek is brief. It lingers only long enough for you to barely realize it has been offered. But that fleeting sensation keeps you alert enough to drag yourself up to your bedroom, softly shut the door, strip off your dress and chemise, and pull on your thin nightgown before relinquishing yourself to the sunken mattress. At that point, you cease to tick, like the final tines have plinked within a wound music box. You have landed on your back atop the covers, and there you will stay until you can summon the strength to turn onto your side.
Though you are tired, sleep does not come to offer a reprieve. Instead, though your eyes begin to strain, you stare at the crack in the plaster above your head. It's the same one you traced while waiting for your crow to land on your windowsill yesterday, yesterday, yesterday. Yesterday beats in the useless yearning of your heart, trailing down your temples to pool in the hollows of your ears.
Yesterday, Eddie held you in your bed until you fell asleep. Today, he never would again.
Heavy footsteps rouse you, and you jolt awake.
At some point in the afternoon, outside your conscious memory, the slow leaking of your eyes had finally ceased. Blearily, you curled into yourself, tucking your wrists beneath your chin and finally drifting off into unconsciousness. Now, your bedroom is not the way you remember it. It's dizzying at first when your eyes pop open not to the crack in white plaster you'd expected but instead to the sight of your bedroom window. The outside is dark beyond the gauze curtains. The air now hums with the dusk song of cicadas.
You have little time to orient yourself before the heavy footsteps that woke you yield to the squeal of a door hinge. Your neck is stiff when you lift your head, attempting to blink the strain from your eyes.
Cast in dimness, Pa looms over you like the shadow of death.
Your father is typically imposing, but his visage is made even more severe by the lack of light. His long face appears to be carved with crags, which harshen the snarl of his brow and turn the wrinkles of his sneer into jagged gashes lining his thin lips. What little light remains glints off the bony line of his nose and the flash of his hard, unyielding eyes. He stands unmoving as if etched from obsidian; the only feature to betray him as man and not stone is the ticking of his square jaw. A muscle there jumps erratically, twitching out its silent fury.
Eyes wide, heart fluttering, breath quick and shallow, you lay still as a prey animal hoping to escape a predator's sight. That is no use. Quick as a rattler, Pa's hand strikes out, and the yawning hollowness inside you becomes an uproar of fear flooding your throat.
He takes firm hold of your arm, thick fingers like a vice pinching your skin. When he tugs at you roughly, you let him maneuver you to the edge of the bed. You keep yourself limp and unresisting because, now that you've been caught in his jaws, you know he'll only bite down harder if you don't. And you even shimmy to assist him, fingers twisted tight in the hem of your nightgown to keep it from dragging up your legs. Preoccupied with maintaining your modesty, you're unprepared to be dragged beyond the footboard; you lurch off the bed in an ungainly slump, and your knees clunk painfully to the hardwood floor.
A shock of pain shoots up both of your legs, and you muffle your reaction with lips pressed tight, following the silent command of your father's grip as he insists you turn to face the mattress. He drops you only once you're kneeling how he wants you, and the loss of his clamped fingers is a relief. Feeling begins to return to your arm as blood flows freely again, and a dull throb starts up in the place he'd gripped you.
Yet that's nothing compared to what you know is coming when you hear the metallic clink of a buckle. It's followed by the unthreading of his belt, which shicks through the loops of his blue jeans with a drag of denim and a snap of leather breaking free.
Moments pass in agonizing silence as you wait for the first crack of the belt. Everything inside you tightens in preparation for the pain to come— your muscles, your bones, your heart, and your spirit. You brace yourself, thighs quivering as you hold so perfectly still despite how your skin has begun to dew with nervous sweat. As you hold that stillness, you can even detect the sting of your mother's milder punishment throbbing in time with the pulse that thrums within your tense body.
Your head has just begun to sag when Pa's voice grates loudly like the grinding of stone, gruff and hoarse. "Y'pologized to your Mama for your behavior?"
You rush to answer. "Yes, sir."
"Y'ever gonna dare sneakin' around under my roof again?"
"No, sir."
A grunt follows your reply. It sounds satisfied enough to untwist a little of the fear inside you. "Y'ashamed of yourself for what you done with that piece of trash? You regret lettin' him," he pauses so the spit of his words might sting you worse, "ruin you with his filthy hands?"
Unbidden, Eddie's face blooms in your mind's eye: wild curls of soft dark frizz, crinkled eyes lightened to amber in the sunshine, soft nose dusted with cinnamon freckles, pink lips stretched wide in a smile that makes your heart squeeze even in your memory. You see him there, your beloved crow, and your chin trembles with the truth. You manage to steady it so that your second lie of the day can come out strong. "Yes, sir."
But perhaps, in your remembering, you hesitate a second too long, because your answer is quickly followed by fire cracking across the crease of your thigh and cheek.
You yelp with shock and pain, reeling as the contact burns through you, beginning as a white-hot ache before dulling to a throb. You tremble, breathing shakily as your father mutters, "I'll make damn sure of that."
Pa belts you across your buttocks and thighs, attempting to scald that shame into you with the cruelty he wields by his hand. But the whip of the belt is not the same as the lashing of your mother's words in the kitchen; it could never be. Not when Eddie's face has bloomed before you, bathed in summer sunshine. Not in this place, where the bunching of your fingers in the bedspread only makes you think about strong arms around your middle, soft breath on your cheek, and the tickle of wild curls against your shoulder.
Your father feasts on the cries he draws from you. He takes them as evidence of your guilt and shame. But you're fortified by the memory of Eddie's strong body cradling you in this bed, the breadth of his wide palm on your mound as he brings you to the pinnacle of pleasure, holding you snugly against him when you fall into surrender.
Harshness could never drive out reverence. Pain could never drive out love.
Pa might leave you welted and whimpering against the footboard, but he can never make you waver in your devotion to Edward Munson.
That's not, of course, due to a lack of trying. Because try he does. Pa efforts to cleave you from Eddie in any way he knows how. He begins with a belting and continues the next morning with a visit to your neighbor, Mr. Wayne.
He's over there 'til midday, which you know because you do not rouse from your bed until he returns. You'd lain there on your side for the entirety of the morning, wrists again tucked beneath your chin, but legs straight since curling them made the throbbing in your bottom and thighs sharpen to a burning ache. Throughout the morning, you stared out the window, watching the light crawl steadily up the red siding of the house next door.
You stirred only when Mama came to tend you. She didn't speak, but you could sense her sentiment in the mild soap and damp cloth she used to wash you, in the gentle pat of a soft towel against your cleansed skin, in the earthy spice of the calendula salve she dabbed on your welts. After she was done, your nightgown fluttered back into place around your hip and flank with the lightest touch. You nibbled on the toast sweetened with butter and honey she left for you on the bedside table, but you did not quit your bed.
This was not the first time Pa had taken the belt to you for some indiscretion, but it was by far the harshest. That's evident as the painful throbbing in your lower half intensifies when you prop yourself up on a palm, testing how it feels to sit up. Your father finds you in the midst of this endeavor: leaning gingerly on one flank, your lips pressed tight and pale.
You glance toward him warily as he bullies open your bedroom door, and he squints back but doesn't acknowledge your pained expression. "Get y'rself presentable," he grunts. "You're comin' with me next door."
Humiliation, it seems, is the next tool Pa has decided to use to cleave you from Eddie. You know it isn't unreasonable to ask you to apologize to Mr. Wayne for your inappropriate behavior. In fact, now that you've had time to reflect on your actions, you even want to apologize to your neighbor. You cannot— will not— denounce your devotion to Eddie, but you do regret disrespecting Mr. Wayne. He's a man who has been nothing but kind and patient with you and his nephew throughout all the years you've known him, and to think you'd wounded him with your actions makes your throat thicken with genuine regret.
So you dress hastily in your loosest, lightest frock and spend the majority of the time Pa affords you sitting at your writing desk, crafting a missive of carefully-chosen words you hope will convey to Wayne the depth of your sincere contrition. It takes some scratch-outs and restarts, but by the time Pa returns to retrieve you, you feel satisfied with what you've written.
You expect to apologize to Mr. Wayne for the offence you have caused him, and you expect to make the apology in person, so you don’t hesitate as you follow your father into the red house. It is also unsurprising that Pa would watch you deliver that apology. Knowing his nature, it's expected that he'd want to ensure your efforts are satisfactory. But you do not anticipate the way Pa ushers you through your neighbors' house, one palm pressed flat to your back to keep you from retreating when you see Eddie sitting next to Wayne at the dining room table.
Eddie doesn't look any worse for wear, not in the way you feel after enduring Pa's punishment last night, but he isn't unaffected by yesterday's events. He's wilted like a shade plant left too long in the hot sun: limp curls clumped at the ends, broad shoulders slumped, pink lips sagging at the corners. His umber eyes are smudged with purple in the hollows of their sockets as he stares down at the table. He doesn't look up as Pa urges you forward.
Your heart seizes at the sight of him, stalling as familiar, hungry want mixes with poignant, thrumming sadness. The impulse to rush to the table and throw your arms around him, to bury your fingers in his curls and cradle his face to your breast, to feel his hot arms crush you against him— all comfort, all sweetness, all desperate relief— is nearly overwhelming.
To resist is worse agony than any strike of leather, but resist you must. Pa's firm hand on your back demands you stand behind the chair across from Mr. Wayne; all the while as he maneuvers you, you will your crow to look up. He doesn't, though you can tell he now knows you're here. You see it in the tightening of his brow and the twist of his plush lips, which pinch with the effort to keep himself at bay.
Pa scrapes a chair out, settling himself heavily down into its seat. Standing beside him, you fidget with the crisply-folded letter, pinched fingertips crawling slowly along its edges as you pour all your will and longing into a stare that Eddie refuses to return.
The stalemate ends as Pa clears his throat loudly, growing impatient. "Go'n, now," he prompts, crossing his arms and kicking his feet out under the table in a scuff and thump of heavy boots.
You steal one more lingering glance at Eddie before dropping your eyes to your hands and unfolding your letter. It is silent at the table as you turn it right-side up to read from. You lick your lips and take a breath to steady your nerves before beginning.
"Dear Mr. Wayne," you begin, reading in a cadence reminiscent of your schoolteachers' voices— melodic, perhaps too overly-expressive. "I want to tell you that I am so very sorry—"
A lump rises suddenly in your throat, and you falter; you begin again, speaking a little faster, though you can't disguise the tiny tremble that has emerged. "I am so very sorry for what I've done to disrespect you. I have been carrying on in a shameful manner…."
The apology becomes a blur as you race to complete it before losing your composure. As you express your remorse and acknowledge your wrongdoing, the shaking of your voice only worsens; by the end, your chin is wobbling hard enough that your teeth start chattering.
"Tha's all right, dear," Wayne interjects, gruff but not unkind. Never unkind. "I kin what you're tryin' to express. 'ppreciate your apology."
You nod jerkily, accepting the reprieve gratefully. You fold your letter back up with trembling fingers and pass it over the table to your neighbor, who tucks it away in his pocket.
With a jut of his chin, Pa motions to Eddie. "S'your turn now, boy," he says, and there's enough vitriol roiling there beneath the surface to more than compensate for Wayne's lack. Pa's shrewd eyes dart to you. "Sit down now."
You don't dare disobey, though your stiffness and pinched expression bely your discomfort as you perch gingerly on the edge of the chair. Eddie rises sharply, and your gaze catches on the clench of his broad fist at his side, how his ruddy knuckles have blanched with the force of his grip. You know they'd tightened at the sight of your pain, and a sudden surge of longing nearly leaves you breathless.
You'd urged Eddie to look up at you when he'd been seated, but now you know why he didn't because neither can you, now that the positions are reversed. You can't look up at his face and see the expression there. It's hard enough to hear his voice as he apologizes to your father for touching you without his permission, for the deep offense of wanting you when he'd expressly been told he wasn't allowed because he was too wild and frivolous, and that he'd proven himself as such for what he'd done with you in the hayloft.
At the end of Eddie's apology, Pa grunts his acceptance. Then, he informs you in no uncertain terms what now will happen. It is the result of his lengthy discussion with Wayne this morning; in the end, they both agreed on certain truths moving forward, and they share those with you now.
They tell you that you and Eddie have been stripped of your freedoms and grounded for further notice. That you aren't to attempt to see or speak with one another. That you should begin thinking about your separate futures and leave this silly summer romance behind. That you are both lucky they are benevolent enough to allow you to continue living side-by-side without sending one or both of you away.
You are bidden to acknowledge the rules, and you intone your obedience, as does Eddie. And when Pa is satisfied that you have been sufficiently cleaved from the boy across the table, you are herded back around the tall fence and deposited onto your property.
Having seen the defeat written across your miserable face, Pa leaves you to your own devices. You choose to sit beneath the apple tree, hissing at the lance of pain that races up your buttocks and into your spine as you thump down into the grass. Stubbornly, you ignore the low throbbing in favor of deciphering the storm inside you.
Under the apple tree, a billow of emotion spreads within, complex and layered, filled with contradictions. Because what you've done is indeed wrong, and you know that. But to take the depth of your relationship with Eddie and reduce it to an indiscreet romp, a careless mistake, an insignificant dalliance chalked up to the folly of youthful impulse…
Well, you know this also. Down to your core, you know that that isn't right. And no one rivals you in conviction once your mind is set.
Twelve days ago, the intimacy you shared with your crow came to fruition in a wondrous way. As you pass your days in solitude within your roost, that wonder begins to transform you. It starts with a letter.
Though the tall fence running the length of your adjoining properties keeps you apart from Eddie, and your parents' watchful eyes prevent any wandering from your front porch, one minor breach remains in those steadfast defenses. It's the tree stump rotted straight through, the only place where the grass of your backyards mingles to become one. Secrets are concealed there, announced by the innocuous song of two woodland birds: the turtle dove and the crow.
You don't hear the call the day following your public apologies, or even the day after that. It comes on the third day while you're sat on a stool in the goat pen, working down the nanny's final teat with one hand. Milking her has been slow and steady work, impeded because her kid is leaning against your flank, content so long as you keep one hand on his small bristly side. His tiny tail beats rhythmically against your skirt as her milk rains hollowly into the metal bucket with each pull of your pinched fingers. And when the stream has turned to a dribble, you hear that unmistakable sound: a deep, harsh 'kaa-kaa-kaa' that has your heart pattering instantly against your ribs as your head whips of its own accord toward the fence. You strain to see Eddie through those tiny gaps, but you're too far away for the gesture to mean much. Your eyes dip to second best— that familiar stump, gnarled and weathered gray, splintered but surprisingly soft and spongy to the touch as if it would give way under a heavy hand or foot. You cannot see into the dark crevice at its base, but you know what now awaits you there.
You want to throw yourself to the ground and reach elbow-deep into that damp space, dirt and dress be damned. But you know the second you leave the bucket unattended, all the milk you'd painstakingly gathered would be claimed by the kid. You squeeze out the teet a few more times— perhaps a bit too hastily, since the nanny flicks her ears at you— before snatching up the bucket, bringing it to the kitchen to strain with cheesecloth and tuck into the icebox, leaving the bucket and soiled cloth in the sink out of sight. I'll wash it right quick as soon as I check the stump, you assure yourself. You couldn't possibly wait another moment longer to see what Eddie has left for you to find.
You're thrumming with impatience and excitement as you pop the screen door back open, struggling not to rush toward your prize and draw suspicion from anyone who may see you. Thankfully, a furtive glance around the yard ensures you are alone, and with nothing else to impede you, you quickly gather up your dress and kneel before the stump to claim your offering.
You reach past the blanket of fertile green moss that skirts the stump's base, mind flicking through the possibilities of what you might find in there. It will surely be a scrap of paper, but what will its few words convey? Will Eddie beg you to join him at the creek one last time? Tell you he's enlisted someone's help, an emissary of sorts, to go between you so you can speak again? Will he express his longing for your body's closeness? His pain at your separation?
A fluttering thrill blooms low inside you, cautious and sweet, fearful in its intensity. Because another wondering crosses your mind before you have the good sense to prevent it, and that wondering is this:
With an acknowledgment, perhaps, of how unideal the timing and the method is… will Eddie finally put words to the truth you see in that soft expression that graces his features, the one that's only come out for you, only you, only ever you?
Your fingertips graze thin smooth paper nested in a cradle of grass. As you pull your arm out of the stump, you can imagine it so plainly, written in that familiar scrawl: three words to turn a scrap into the most precious of treasures.
But the paper that comes out is not torn hastily from the corner of a brown paper bag as it usually is. Instead, you’re holding a folded piece of stationary, lightweight and crisp white, though its edges have soaked up some dirty dampness from where it has been hiding.
You don't have the luxury of time needed to examine the emotions that stir at this unexpected sight; you need to get to safety first. You tuck the letter beneath the band of your pocketless apron, fumbling with the bow at the small of your back to tighten it. There the paper stays, pressed against your stomach as you return to the kitchen to wash the bucket and cheesecloth. You lay them out to dry, then pass by your mother in a brush of fabric down the narrow hallway. Lightheaded, heart thumping, you creak up the stairs to your bedroom, closing your door and releasing a woosh of held breath. You sink to the floor in front of it, pressing your back to the wood. In lieu of true privacy, this position keeps someone from bursting suddenly in on you before you can conceal what you're doing. With that assurance, you shift forward, untying that tight bow and letting the apron fall across your legs, revealing a flutter of crisp white.
That stirring of emotions returns full force as you run your thumb along the bottom edge of the paper, wiping the collected dirt absently on the hem of your dress. As you unfold it and Eddie's penciled scrawl is revealed, the first wave of your emotion crests to sting sweetly in the corners of your eyes.
The letter isn't particularly long. It doesn't wax poetic about your grace and charm or meander through the hills and valleys of your shared story. It little matters when you can hear Eddie's teasing rasp in every sentence, see his wild beauty in every word, and feel his firm touch in each uneven scratch of letters into the page.
My Dove, Eddie murmurs against your temple, and you sigh, melting with the sticky sweet honey as he voices his claim on you. His Dove. That's what you are.
"Yes, Eddie," you whisper into the stillness of your empty bedroom, lids low, lashes heavy as you read the next line.
First things first. Don't you even think about writin' me back. You hear me? Plush lips curl as your besotted expression falls into a pout, and you hear the rasp of his laugh as he cradles your face in his broad, rough palms. S'not that I don't wanna get a letter from you, you know. I just can't have you in any more trouble. It nearly killed me to see how you were hurtin' on account of me. Umber eyes crinkle, and his thumb brushes the corner of your lip. Promise me you'll listen for once.
You regard him sullenly for a moment. "Fine," you grump, and the crooked smile you're rewarded with softens the edge of your frustration.
Eddie regards you fondly. I know you don't wanna. But you will anyway, 'cause y'can't help but do what I say now that you're all gooey over me.
You flush with heat, bashful but pleased, twisting your lips against the dopey smile that wants to come out for him. Now that that's settled, he snarks, making you yearn to kiss the knowing tilt right off his lips, I want you to know that… well, I really am sorry for makin' a mess of things for us. Maybe if I'd done different, we wouldn't be where we are right now. No use dwellin' on it or nothin', because what's past is past. But I screwed it up for us, and I don't know what to do to fix it, and I'm just sorry, Dove. I really am.
"Oh, Eddie—" His name is a soft, feminine sigh of anguish as the sting returns full force, burning insistently behind your eyes. You grab up his hands, squeezing them tight; the paper wrinkles in your grip. "Eddie, you didn't make a mess of anything. It's not your fault at all, what's happened."
He stares at you mournfully, dark eyes heavy and sad, continuing as if you hadn't spoken. And I know it's only been a few days since I seen you, but I miss you something fierce. S'like my arm's been cut clean off. His lips quirk up just slightly in the corners. And you'll say that's just me bein' dramatic as always, but I mean it. It really does hurt me that much to be away from you.
Eddie's curls brush your cheeks as he gathers you close to him, pressing his nose to the top of your hair. Wish I could hold you. Be there for you, take care of you. But I guess this's all I can do for now. He breathes in deep, and your heart twists sweetly in your chest at the feeling of his breath there— a cool inhale, and then warmth puffing in short bursts when he murmurs, You know you're my best friend, but you're so much more than that. Y'always have been. I told you I'd never let anyone take you from me, and I intend to keep my word, no matter how long I gotta wait.
Your first tear falls, and Eddie's arms tighten around you. He presses a kiss to your hair. In the meantime, he rasps, quiet but sure and brash as always, if you find yourself missin' me, or if you're havin' a hard go of it, or if you just wanna remind yourself where I am. All you gotta do is call for me, Turtle Dove. And when I call back, what I'm really sayin' is, 'I'm here. I'm here, and I ain't goin' nowhere.'
On the page, there's a gap of space and a scratched-out word, and you can feel Eddie's adam's apple bob in a gulp. And if I'm missin' you, or… or if I'm havin' a hard go of it. If you still want me the way that I want you.
The final line of the letter begins to fuzz while you stare down at it, expanding in a bloom of dark-on-white as more tears flood your eyes. But you don't need to see it; the words have already been etched into your heart.
Will you call back to me? So I know you're here, and you ain't goin' anywhere?
Those two questions close the letter; there is no signature. After all, when two like souls flutter their wings and settle themselves to perch together on a shared wire, names become nothing more than an afterthought.
Paper flattens to the wooden floor. It crinkles as you press against it with your palm, leveraging yourself up to your feet blindly as your stirrings finally overtake you in a rush of tears. They flow over as you lurch around the footboard to the windowsill, pushing the gauzy curtains heedlessly aside; they catch the corners of your lips as your fingers twist the stiff window hinge, and your smile stretches in time with the window's jerky progress up the frame.
September air floods in, ruffling gauze and soothing over your forehead and cheeks. The humid heat of summer has finally broken, leaving mugginess a thing of the past. And it's into that air, scented with crisp wind and the first dry musk of fading leaves, that you call for your crow.
Your first coo isn't as graceful as usual because your voice is choked by sorrow and joy combined. But you do not let that stop you. You call out your bedroom window again and again, as loud as you've ever been, eyes fixed on the stoop at the back of the red house. You call and call until the door springs open there, and a crow hops out onto the stoop. As you look down upon him, tears run in trails that drip off your chin, and your cheeks begin to ache with the force of your smile. You cup your small hands around your mouth and call again.
'Turr-turr-turr,' you sing, mimicking the melodic trill of the turtle dove.
This moment will not quell your stirrings. As more days pass, they will billow ever more intensely and change ever more quickly as the transformation continues inside you. Your bitterness and your temper are still to come; you have not seen the last of your aching.
But, for right now, this is all that matters. A pale face tipped up toward the sun, a cloud of dark curls tossing wild and untamed, a boyish whoop of relief and adoration, and the love that swells within you— still unspoken, but no less true.
#blueywrites#td&tc#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x fem!reader#farmer!eddie munson#farmer!eddie#best friends to lovers#cw: physical abuse#tw: emotional abuse#parental abuse#cw: child abuse#tw: child abuse#tw: physical abuse#cw: emotional abuse#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x f!reader
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Safe
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summary: a night out with your friends turns sour, but you’re rescued by an unexpected hero
A/N: i wrote a chapter based on this post for my main fic, but feel a desperate need to write it again putting more detail into it bc i love a fictional man covered in blood idk what to tell you!!! let me know if you want a part II, im feeling a miniverse comin’ on (dw, chapter 23 of FD is in the works, i promise!) reblogs and comments always appreciated!
tags/tw: friends to lovers, mentions of sexual harassment, blood, violence (eddie gets in a fight), swearing, slut shaming, confessions, drunkish!eddie. (lmk if i missed something!) fluff, angst, slight hurt/comfort. reader and eddie are about 22-23, out of high school, happy etc etc. best friend!robin and best friend!steve feature, of course.
—
Your friendship had been simple, at first. You and Eddie had met as kids, before boys had cooties and girls were lame. Eddie had been cornered on the playground, by some giants in the grade above you. They'd shoved him against the chain link fence, their greasy leader demanding he hand over his lunch money. When Eddie blubbered that he didn’t have any, that he hadn’t eaten lunch in weeks, the goons cackled at him, shoving him to the ground while calling him things like “trailer trash.” You couldn’t stand it, even at eleven years old. The poor kid, with hair buzzed closely to his scalp, dressed in all black, carrying around a battered notebook with doodles of dragons on its cover. Your face had warmed with anger, hands balled into fists ready to swing on the group that would outnumber you five to two, or five to one if you were being realistic. This kid clearly wasn’t a fighter.
“Hey!” You had shouted, stomping your worn out converse against the mulch of the playground. “What the hell are you doing, Jared?” You hadn’t been afraid to get in the kid’s face, brows furrowed together as you jabbed your tiny finger into his puffed out chest. “What’s he ever done to you, huh? I don’t think it’s his fault your mother left.” You know now, it wasn’t the nicest thing to say, but it had worked. Jared’s goons had gone silent, anticipating his retort, but all he’d done was cry. What a bitch.
When he’d run, tail tucked between his legs, you’d turned to the cowering boy behind you, offering your hand. “You okay?”
He’d nodded, clearly still shaken up but trying to be brave. “I can take care of myself.” Of course, it had been embarrassing. Not because you were a girl, or younger than him, but you were braver. You didn’t give a shit what people thought of you. Even then, he could tell. You were fucking cool.
”Yeah, sure looked like it. Whatever. I’m Y/n.” You held out your hand to him again, this time to shake, like you were a seasoned lawyer, or something.
“Eddie.” He’d taken your hand, given it a brief shake, but you could tell he was nervous by the way your palm stuck to his.
”Hi, Eddie. You wanna walk to Benny’s with me? Get some burgers?”
He’d shaken his head. “I don’t have money.”
You’d only shrugged. “I got it.” You didn’t think mentioning that Benny was your uncle, or that you and your friends could always eat free, was worth mentioning. From that day on, you and Eddie had been inseparable.
—
The Hideout is loud. You’re wrapped around your best friend’s arm as he leads you through the bar. It’s the only time you’ve seen this place busy, let alone filled with people that don’t qualify for a discount at Denny’s.
The crowd must be the fault of the band. They're full of life on the tiny stage in the back of the bar, somehow convincing patrons to take to the sticky wooden floor to dance.
“You wanna drink, sweets?” You hear him even over the loud music, like a siren call meant only for you.
“Yes, please!” You look up at Eddie, who’s already staring at you. His rich brown eyes sparkle in the dancing stage lights, and you find your tongue in knots at the sight of him.
He nods, sliding his jacket from your shoulders before seating you at a table. “I’ll be right back!” He promises before skipping off to the bar. You keep your eyes trained on him, hypnotized by the way he glided towards the bar, weaving between the mass of gyrating bodies.
You can’t exactly pinpoint when your feelings for him started changing. You assume it had to have been high school. He started growing his hair out, dressing in leather and denim, and listening to a lot of heavy metal. Something about it was attractive to you, watching your best friend become the man he is now, at twenty three years old.
Even with an exterior most find scary, Eddie is still the kindest soul you know. That’s what really pulled you in. He’s always treated you with kindness and care, never once letting you leave his house angry, and knowing just what to say to calm you down. He always makes sure you’re home safe after a night drinking, sometimes even willing to forfeit his own fun to drive you to your place, or crash at his trailer.
Of course, these feelings have stayed stuffed deep, deep down. You can’t bring yourself to ruin what you have with him, risking your closest friendship to maybe be told what you want to hear.
“Hey! You still in there?” Eddie waves his decorated hand a few inches from your face, and you’re dragged back to earth. He places your drink on the table in front of you.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Penny for your thoughts?” He rests his chin on his knuckles, full attention on you, and you feel your face warm.
“Just happy to be out with you is all.” Not a lie, but not exactly the truth. Safe.
“Alright.” He’s never been one to pry. “You wanna dance?” The song has changed to something slower, and you try not to read into his timing as you nod your head cautiously, taking Eddie’s hand as he leads you to the floor.
Eddie places his hands on either of your hips, and you can’t help but stiffen. “This alright?” He must have felt it too.
“Yes, yeah,” You stumble to reassure him, nervous you’ll scare him off. He’s always been such a gentleman, so careful with you.
You drape your arms around his neck loosely, casually. Safely. Still just two friends, swaying to some angst ridden tune you can’t understand the words to.
—
It’s later when Steve and Robin arrive, already drunk from spending the night at a concert in the city. You’re still not down for the count, and Eddie’s nursing his sixth drink of the night as the music has switched from guitar driven to computer beats coming from a turntable.
“Since when does The Hideout hire DJs?” Robin shouts over the bass driven music, eyes squinting in the bright lights.
“Ever since the place sold to some big wig in Indy, they’ve been doing this shit on weekends!” Eddie informs her as Steve starts talking about how “this is actually a great business tactic.” You decide now is a good time to slip back to the bar for a refill.
Unfortunately, you are one of about fifty people to have that idea, and you groan as you fight to find an open space along the counter. You mumble “excuse me” after “sorry” after “move, please!” until you’ve almost reached the front. As you’re about to order, you feel a hand squeeze your ass.
You whip your head around, and come face to face with a large, muscular man in a tight t-shirt and even tighter jeans.
“Hey, baby,” He winks, the disgusting smirk on his face sending a chill through your body. “You here all by yourself, gorgeous?” Your throat tightens. This is what it’s like, you know that. You shouldn’t be by yourself, that was your mistake. Your throat tightens, impossibly dry, before looking back up at this man. He is seemingly a foot and a half taller than you, likely able to break you in half using only his bicep, and he’s is standing way too close. You can even smell the whiskey on his tongue. “Uh, well,”
“Cmon, let’s go dance, huh?” He interrupts, snatching your wrist with an iron grip, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he leads you towards the dance floor, already formulating an escape route. You’ll say you need to use the bathroom, then you’ll find your friends and leave. Easy enough, right? Unfortunately as you reach the dance floor, the song slows again and you find yourself flush against this beast of a man, his big arms caging you into his chest. You feel the tears start to well in your eyes, blurring your already obscured vision. Your heart drops into your stomach when you realize you are completely, fully, and hopelessly trapped.
—
“Sooo,” Robin turns to Eddie, who’s been staring across into space, daydreaming about you for the last five minutes. “Where’s your girl?”
“What?” He’d heard her, but he wants to hear it again. And again and again.
“Your baby, dingus! You’re one true-“
“Would you shut up?” He interrupts her slurring of teasing, aching jabs, feeling his face heat up with every syllable. “She’s not my- y’know, she’s not mine.”
“Oh, please!” Steve snorts, causing Eddie to whip his head to look at him. “We all know she’s yours, and you’re hers, and all that romantic bullshit, okay? No use trying to squirm out of it. Be grateful you got that much. We all know she loves you.”
He rolls his eyes, but his heart is skipping with each word. He wants to believe them, desperately. He can’t bring himself to have those hopes, though, not about you. He’d only disappoint you, or scare you off when he got too close. It’s better, keeping you at a distance. Safer.
“Is that… No,” Robin looks beyond Eddie, and he turns to follow her gaze. He finds you easily, the only figure he’d recognize in such a loud, multicolored environment. You’re squished against a boulder of a man as you sway to the music, but he can’t see your face. Eddie feels his heart catch in his throat as he turns back to his friends.
“See? I told you she’s not mine.” He clears his throat when he hears his own voice crack. Not fucking now.
“Who is that guy?” Steve asks, craning his neck to get a better view.
“Probably just some club sleaze, she’s probably not even having fun.” Robin shrugs. Her comment clicks in Eddie’s brain before it clicks in her own, though.
“I gotta go.” He shoves himself from the table.
“Should I go with him?”
Robin shrugs. “That dude is gigantic. Maybe watch his back.”
—
“Hey, um,” The song has ended, and you need to get the fuck out of here. “I’ll be right back, I gotta use the ladies’ room,” You peel yourself away from him, but he grabs your arm before you can.
“Nuh uh, you can use the bathroom at my place. C’mon.” There will be no talking yourself out of this. Usually you can confuse a man into leaving you alone, but this guy’s different. You can sense the danger, the complete lack of empathy, like it’s a scent he’s giving off. You have to make a scene.
You twist your arm, writhing to get out of his grip, when you feel the cooling rings of a familiar hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice is low, so this man/monster can’t hear him. “I’m gonna get you out of here. Hang on.” He moves in front of you, between you and the giant causing him to drop your arm. There’s an angry red ring of his lasting grip around your wrist. “You gotta problem, buddy?” The guy puffs his chest out at Eddie, like some weird, animalistic instinct to seem bigger. Like he needs that advantage.
“Yeah, I do. Why were your hands on my girl?”
You try not to think about the words too much. Despite the situation though, you feel your heart skip. Steve joins him beside you, placing his hand on your other shoulder protectively.
“Your girl, huh? Well your girl’s a fuckin’ slut then, she’s been dancing with me for the last ten minutes.”
“What the fuck did you just call her, you prick?”
“You heard me bitch boy, she’s a slut! And I like my girls dirty.” Before Eddie can respond, the guy swings his arm into Eddie’s unsuspecting face as you watch, frozen and helpless. Your hands fly to your mouth to muffle the shriek, but you catch the attention of some nearby patrons.
Eddie doesn’t go down, though. The adrenaline keeps him on his feet. “Oh, we’re doin’ this now?” Eddie smirks as he wipes the blood from his split lip. “Cmon, I know you got more in ya than that. You’re massive!” Eddie taunts him before launching at the guy, managing to double him over with a punch to the gut. “You’ll have to do more than that if you want her, big guy. I’ll lay down my fuckin’ life in this bar for that woman.”
The crowd has now turned their attention to where Eddie’s got the brute in a headlock. He gets one more punch in before his opponent breaks out of his grasp, sending his elbow straight into Eddie’s nose. “Oh, ho, ho,” Eddie cackles maniacally as he lifts away from the counter, blood now dripping from his nostrils into his mouth, staining his skin and his shirt. “Look at you, tough guy.” He spits a mouthful of blood onto the bar floor. “Real big of you beatin’ on someone a quarter your size.”
Before anyone else can make a move, the bouncers are rushing up behind them, escorting both men out the front entrance while you follow behind with Steve and Robin. It takes six guys to move the giant, leaving Eddie to comply with the disgruntled manager. You watch as your adversary curses at Eddie before walking into the night, disappearing before anyone could think to call the cops.
“Oh my god, what the fuck?!” Robin is laughing nervously as she looks between you and Eddie, then to Steve with that annoying, know-it-all glint in her eyes.
“Eddie, he could have fuckin’ killed you!” Steve, ever the babysitter, scolds his friend with an elbow to his ribs, causing Eddie to wince in pain.
“Yeah, maybe, but if it meant keeping her safe-,” He cuts himself off as he meets your teary eyes. “Oh, no. Sweets, what’s wrong?”
You shake your head, barely able to look at the bloody boy in front of you. He’s hurt because of you. You were supposed to keep him safe.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie.” You whisper, afraid your voice will betray you for speaking at full volume. “You shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have let you.” The tears are warm on your cheeks when they spill, and as quickly as they do, you have six arms wrapped around you.
—
“Get some rest, we’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You shut the cab door behind you before following Eddie into his trailer. You don’t want to be alone tonight, and Eddie has graciously offered a sleepover at his place.
“How’s your face?” You ask, already on your way to the freezer for an ice pack.
“I’m fine, honey, I promise.” His voice says otherwise, low and scratchy from a night of straining it. “How are you doing, though?”
It’s a loaded question. How are you supposed to feel, watching your best friend risk his life for you? You’re grateful, sure, but the guilt eats at you still. “I’m just so, so sorry Eddie,” You carefully lift your hand to caress his swollen cheek. “You really didn't have to do that.”
“What was I supposed to do? Let him hurt you? I couldn’t live with myself.” He shakes his head, wincing in pain. “I meant what I said. I’d risk my life to keep you safe.”
You shake your head, not accepting his answer. “Why?” It’s meek, barely a whisper as you blot the remaining blood from his lip.
“What do you mean why?” His words are muffled by the tissue.
You huff, getting upset despite yourself. “You’re telling me you’d put yourself in danger if it meant keeping me out of it? What’s the point? Why do that to yourself because I’m too stupid to make the right decisions? What do you gain from that?”
He shakes his head, clearly frustrated. “Do I have to gain something from it? I do it because I love you, y/n. Simple as that.” You gape at him, and he rolls his eyes, the beginning of a smirk twitching on his face. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”
“It would be helpful, yes.” You’re just about begging now, the nervous sweat causing your shirt to stick to you.
“Sweets, I accepted that I would die for you a long fuckin’ time ago. If it meant keeping you happy, I would tie myself to the train tracks. Or, in this case, let some fucker twice my size beat the living shit out of me.”
You can’t accept it, logically. Your brain won’t let you believe any of his claims. “But I don’t-“
“No.” His voice is stern, almost scolding. “No more of that ‘I don’t deserve you’ shit. Okay? Absolutely not. Because you do. You saved my life all those years ago, and I promised myself I’d make sure to protect yours, too. You are my best friend, and the absolute love of my life, so I’m gonna give you everything I’ve got.” He laces his fingers with yours, and you watch as his rings catch the light.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel that way about me, I’ll never ask you for that, it wouldn’t be fair. But I can’t stand by when you’re in trouble, it’s not what I do.”
Your heart is fighting to free itself from your ribcage. It wants to jump from your skin, straight into Eddie’s open palms. Though the ever present coward in you wishes to curl up inside yourself and hide from him, everything else in your body is being pulled towards him, compelled as if by nature.
Before you even notice you’re crying again, Eddie wraps himself around your shaking frame, rubbing soothing patterns on your back as you sob, open mouthed and ugly, into his t-shirt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m right here.” He coos, and you focus on his breathing, matching the pace to calm the stutter of your cries.
You claw at his jacket, inhaling his scent of cigarettes and pine soap. You need him closer. He tightens his grip on you, and you look up to face him. His own cheeks are wet with tears, his eyes screwed shut trying to stifle the bite of the wracking sobs you know the strength of well. This is the only chance you’re getting, so you move with calculation. Despite the anxious pounding of your heart, and everything in your head telling you that he’s not yours and never could be, you crane your neck to reach Eddie’s split and swollen lips, squeezing your eyes shut as you place your mouth on his, ever so gently.
Before Eddie can react, you’re gone, face inches away from him as his eyes flutter open. “Whoa. Uh, w-what… what are you doing?” He sputters, face now bright red, and you feel your own cheeks blush.
“I’m- I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed… ” You cover your mouth with your hand to hide the shame, feeling the fire in your stomach. You have just ruined years of friendship, and for one stupid kiss! But Eddie’s beaming, and he’s still gripping you close to him. “I've just wanted to do that for so long.” You admit shyly, shifting against his grip, ready to retreat, but he holds you tighter.
“Can you do it again?” His voice is more confident now. You’re not sure you’ve heard him correctly, but when you look at him, it’s undeniable.
You mirror his smile, nodding before leaning into him again. He makes the connection, taking the lead as your body contorts around his, lips locking together as he holds you flush against him. His lips are so soft, and he’s so gentle with you, even though you can tell he’s eager, like maybe he’s also wanted to do this for a while. The thought causes you to smile against his lips, and you feel his own lips stretch against yours as your hands move from his shoulders to his hair.
One of his hands moves from your waist to caress your face, holding your jaw like a precious pearl he’s discovered after years at sea. Your tears fall freely now, ones of overwhelming love for Eddie, ones you never could have hoped to shed, content letting them simmer in the pit of your throat if it meant keeping your best friend. You’re breathless when he lets you go, fighting the urge to chase after his lips. After almost a decade of wondering what Eddie would taste like, what kissing him would feel like, now you get to know. “I have been in love with you since that day on the playground,” He confesses, tightening his arms around your waist to keep you close. “But I’m such a chicken shit, I didn’t wanna ruin anything. You were so sweet to me, I couldn’t risk losing that, losing you.” The words seem to spill from him now, like he’s been craving to tell you. You suppose he has.
You take in the sight of your best friend, battered and bruised for the sake of your honor, like a knight thrown into battle without armor. He’s beautiful, even in black and blue. You bring your hand to his cheek, rubbing small circles on his skin as he leans into your touch. You could stay here forever, you think. “I love you too, Eds. I have for as long as I can remember.” He smiles at you, lip splitting again but he doesn’t even flinch. You return the grin, feeling your cheeks ache from how wide you’ve stretched your mouth. “Thank you for keeping me safe.” You kiss him again, letting yourself taste the blood he’d spilled for you, a silent promise that you’ll make sure he never has to again.
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taglist @children-of-the-grave :p
#friends to lovers#best friends to lovers#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie munson#st#st4#eddie munson fanfic#angst#fluff#stranger things#strangerthingscentral#f!reader#willow writes sins#i keep forgetting to use that tag bc i made it when i was 12
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a best friend eddie story + collection of drabbles
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
total word count: 31k
tags/content warnings: best friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, emotional hurt / comfort, self-doubt / insecurities, recreational drug use, topics of death / grief — pls also read cw's for each part & if i missed anything, let me know!
summary: a story about two kids trying to navigate through love and loss, inevitable goodbyes, various reunions, friendships and hardships, joy, heartbreak, plus surviving the upside down - all to the sound of Janis Joplin's Pearl.
& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely, if at all, in the story.
1980
⪼ your first conversation with eddie (october)
1984
⪼ eddie realises he might like you as more than a friend (march)
⪼ eddie comes to terms with his feelings, pushing you away in the process (may/june)
⪼ last moment with eddie before you leave for college (august)
⪼ eddie & reader catch up on the phone (september)
⪼ a kiss, a fight, & the end of a friendship? (november / december)
⪼ the letters (november / december)
1985
⪼ a rather dramatic reunion, after months of not speaking (june / july)
⪼ eddie & reader try to navigate through their feelings (october)
⪼ can celebrating nye together lead to a kiss at midnight? eddie for sure hopes that it can (december)
1986
⪼ valentine’s day
⪼ eddie and the end of the world (march)
⪼ apologies, confessions, and plans for the future (may)
⪼ the start of something new (august)
a/n: the following are some songs i think they fit perfectly with their story, so i wanted to share them with you.
janis joplin - me and bobby mcgee | conan gray - the exit | dolly parton - i will always love you | the weekend - die for you | måneskin - the loneliest | kate bush - oh to be in love | u2 - sunday bloody sunday | red hot chilli peppers - eddie | ethel cain - sun bleached files | leonard cohen - hallelujah | boston - more than a feeling | taylor swift ft. bon iver - exile | red box - why so few | milky chance - frequency of love | janis joplin - cry baby
main masterlist
#ok phew— i’m excited to finally start posting this!#eddie munson#eddie munson friends to lovers#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson story#eddie munson series#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#best friend!eddie#best friends to lovers#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#pearl (eddies version)
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