#eddie munson x you fanfic
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Death of Me: Chapter 15 - A Very Special Meeting of the Hellfire Club
Chapter 15 | Series Masterlist
3,794 words
Warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI, pregnancy, childbirth, fluff.
October 31st 1986.
If you thought you were miserable during your first trimester, boy were you unprepared for going a week past your due date.
You're fairly certain that raspberries may go extinct at the rate you're chugging cups of raspberry leaf tea. Not that you care. Stupid raspberries.
Eddie had taken you on miles long meanders in the woods around Hawkins, trying to hold a conversation with you that wouldn't end in you frustrated. You appreciate the effort but still, stupid walks.
Your mother had said castor oil was a great way to get things moving. You didn't have time to find out before the oily substance on your tongue made you vomit. Stupid oil.
You woke up this morning particularly irritable, stomping around the house until Eddie finally dared to ask what was bothering you so. You'd shot him a death glare and then pointed at your stomach,
"He's supposed to be here. We were told the 23rd."
"I know sweetheart, but maybe he's just super cosy in there and isn't ready to leave yet. But we'll get to meet him soon." Eddie gives you a soft smile and you groan,
"Spare me that crap. I just want him off my bladder." You growl the last words as your son helpfully pushes down on your bladder as though to illustrate your point.
Eddie tries to give you a sympathetic smile but it doesn't win you over, you're uncomfortable and sore and you feel like you haven't slept in months.
"You don't have to come with me tonight, I really don't mind if you want to stay home and get some rest, maybe a bubble bath."
"Two things," You hold up your fingers, "One, I can't drive myself to the hospital if your son decides he wants to make an appearance. Two, there is no way on God's green earth I'm going to be able to fit into that tub right now." You rummage through the cupboard, locating your coffee mug with ease. Eddie learned the hard way that your caffeine intake was not his to police while you were sleeping so poorly. A tiny foot in the ribs doesn't exactly send you off into a dreamless sleep.
Eddie comes over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, the other rubbing your stomach soothingly.
"Ugh you smell like water." You grumble and wrinkle your nose while Eddie stands baffled,
"What the hell does water smell like?"
"I don't know but you just do!" Eddie bites back a chuckle, knowing you'll bite his head off if he does.
"Okay I'm going to go shower and see if that somehow makes me smell less like water. Do you want me to help you with your costume when I'm done?"
"You're going to have to squeeze me into it, I feel like I've swallowed a planet."
The zip glides smoothly up your back as Eddie finishes helping you get dressed, mercifully you’d picked a much larger size, meaning Eddie did not have to “grease you up” as he kindly offered. You sit on the edge of the bed and he kneels down to help you slip your feet into your shoes, a small frown crossing his face, placing the shoes back down beside him and switching to rubbing your feet, a quiet tut leaving his mouth,
"You're been on your feet too much again." He gently chides, it's coming from a place of concern, not control.
"Well how else am I going to walk this baby out?" You lean back onto a pillow you hastily shove behind you, sighing as Eddie’s hands work over your sore feet, relaxing the muscles and helping the painful swelling on your feet reduce. You shut your eyes and let another long sigh go,
“Better?”
“Don’t be smug about it.” Eddie laughs and you smile, “Alright if you don’t stop now I’m going to have to insist you cancel tonight and carry on.”
“Sorry guys, no game tonight. Fiancee’s feet hurt so I’m spending the evening taking care of her? Yeah what an asshole I’d be.” Eddie places your shoes onto your feet gently and stands up, holding out a hand to help you up.
“Five more minutes.” You pout and Eddie lets his hand drop, shrugging,
“Fine but then you miss out on watching me stab myself in the eye multiple times.” Eddie ducks into the bathroom as he calls out to you.
“It’s just not that difficult to do Eddie, how many times do I have to do your makeup for you?” You eventually manage to pull yourself off the bed and waddle into the bathroom watching as he immediately pulls his lower lid down,
“Absolutely not. Put the pencil down Munson.” You had explained so many times that doing that was going to cause premature aging around his eyes but he just doesn’t listen, insisting this was the only way he could put eyeliner on. You take the pencil from his hand and turn his head to yours, rolling your eyes at the satisfied grin on his face. To his credit, Eddie keeps still as he squats down so you can reach his eyes with ease, and is able to fight the instinct to back away from the invading black pencil rimming his eyes.
“Okay, there. Not difficult.” You step back and let Eddie admire his lined eyes in the mirror, grinning at your handiwork as he inspects it.
“Thank you sweetheart.” Eddie smooches the top of your head, “Now where are those fangs?”
He rummages through the bag he’s haphazardly thrown onto the counter and produces a plastic pack of fangs.
“Eddie, those are going to shred your gums to pieces, what happened to the caps I found?”
“The caps were cool, but these glow in the dark.” Eddie switches the light off as he speaks and produces another pack of faintly green teeth and offers them to you.
“Nope, I’m sticking with my caps, have fun wrecking your gums though.”
“Your losh.” Eddie struggles with the plastic encasing his teeth, but you can see he’s grinning in the dark thanks to the glow of the teeth.
You switch the light back on and gently bump him aside so you can better see the mirror for placing the fang caps over your teeth. The putty tastes vile but secures them comfortably and means you can still talk without sounding insane. You spot Eddie rummaging in the bag once more and he produces a frankly ridiculous amount of fake blood.
“I thought we were both going as vampires? You going as Carrie or something?” Eddie laughs as you watch him with a raised eyebrow,
“I got a good deal.”
“I’d hope so, that jug is getting passed down to our grandkids.”
Eddie dips a q-tip into the jug and dabs two marks on your neck, dragging the soaked cotton along your skin to emulate a trickle of blood. You shudder at the sticky sensation but in the mirror you have to admit it looks realistic.
“Okay now do me.”
“Eddie… we have plans.” You joke, it takes him a split second to grasp your meaning but he does,
“I meant the fake blood, idiot.” Eddie teases as he presents you with a q tip and tilts his neck for you.
“What if I just draw a dick on your neck right now?”
“You’re a menace. I’m trusting you to behave.”
You’re the first to the Wheeler’s house, aside from the Wheeler’s of course. Nancy answers the door, dressed as a witch, complete with pointy hat and broomstick. As you head into the basement you see Mike, with an alarming amount of gel through his hair, slicking it back. You tilt your head on the side unable to place the costume inspiration, he notices your stare,
“It will make sense when El gets here.”
“You’re gonna die when you realise.” Nancy laughs as she moves more chairs around the table and then beckons you upstairs with her. “No baby yet then?”
“Shit, we left him at home.” You deadpan and then laugh,
“Sorry, stupid question huh?”
“It’s okay, but if he doesn’t come soon I am sending him to a bad school.”
A doorbell interrupts you and you see a sliver of orange and white in the gap between Nancy and the door, Nancy is nearly on the floor with giggles and steps aside to allow Dustin in, Dustin who is wearing a gigantic grin, and a traffic cone costume.
“Points for originality.” You manage between laughs. He tries to bow and nearly takes Eddie out with the tip of the cone on his head.
“Shit Henderson, you were right. I’d never have guessed.”
“Thank you, thank you.” Dustin holds out his hand and Eddie places a bill into the hand, shaking his head and laughing.
Eleven arrives alongside Will and Jonathon, and immediately you twig the costume as Mike goes in to hug her,
“Oh my god you guys are Danny and Sandy! That is beyond cute!” Dustin pretends to gag from behind their back but you can see he thinks the costume is cute too. Will and Jonathon have both dressed as wizards, Will’s costume is one that is well loved, you can see from the adjustments made to the costume to fit a growing body. Will immediately attaches himself to Eddie and is asking a million questions a minute about the campaign, and Eddie matches his energy immediately, gesturing with his hands in a manner that is bound to result in someone being accidentally hit.
Robin is next to arrive, with her designated driver dressed in a blue boiler suit and raybans.
“Maverick from Top Gun?” Steve nods, grinning, clearly thrilled with his costume. Robin’s is harder to place, a mustard yellow sweater and pale blue jeans.
“Any clues?” She shakes her head, looking like she might explode at any given minute into raucous laughter,
“She won’t even give me any clues. It’s driving me crazy! Like, I know this sweater from somewhere!”
“Robin!” Dustin hollers from across the room, “Nice Steve costume!”
Robin collapses into laughter as Steve’s jaw drops, not sure whether to be offended or flattered.
“Is this why you were asking me about my hair care routine??”
Erica, Lucas and Max are dropped off by the basement door so that Max can be easily wheeled into the basement, Max is dressed as Freddie Krueger, with Lucas dressed as Nancy Thompson, complete with a beautifully styled wig. Erica has on a cowboy hat, with an apple mark on her cheek, and is wearing pale orange clothes, you have to ask Dustin who immediately twigs and compliments the cleverness of the costume.
“She’s Applejack.”
“Apple who?”
“My Little Pony.”
“Ooh, that is clever.”
You notice the absence of the original Hellfire club, you know Eddie had invited them but it had been a terse call, two had moved away from Hawkins in the aftermath of the “earthquake” and weren’t thrilled about coming back and Gareth had politely declined as he apparently had a date, which Eddie wasn’t entirely sure he believed. You’d done your best not to eavesdrop but the phone was on the wall in the kitchen, and you were trying to make dinner, so it’s not entirely your fault that you’d overheard the conversations. Eddie had insisted it didn’t bother him that they were seemingly avoiding him, but eventually you’d pointed out that it’s okay if it did bother him, and you were always happy to listen if he wanted to talk about it, and that was enough for Eddie, to know he had a supportive partner, and friends who weren’t dodging his calls for a Halloween-themed D&D afternoon/evening.
Eddie starts the session and immediately is met with confused stares at his slurred speech. Eddie sighs heavily and spits out his vampire teeth and tries again to speak, this time everyone understanding.
It’s about an hour in when you stand to pick up the dice Eddie is helpfully gesturing to, you feel a slight cramp in your belly, you brush it off. You’d been dealing with braxton hicks for the last 3 weeks and this did not feel any different to those, so you take a sip of water and grab a handful of pretzels when your turn is over, knowing these usually help to alleviate the symptoms.
Eddie catches Mike gawking at your bump and puts his head in front of his face to intercept the gaze,
“She’s not going to explode, you know. Quit your staring.” Mike averts his gaze but you do catch him glancing a few times, and you’re fairly sure Eddie’s statement was right on the money because the boy is looking at you like he expects an Alien chestburster situation is going to happen any second.
Another hour passes and your snacking hasn’t stopped the discomfort, and as another cramp hits you curse under your breath and kick Eddie’s foot under the table, Eddie’s eyes flick to you and he notices the beads of sweat on your head,
“You okay?” He whispers, you shake your head and gesture for him to lean in closer, the second the phrase,
“I think I’m having contractions.” Leaves your lips he is on his feet,
“Right, someone take a note of where we’re at, we’re gonna head to the hospital and go have us a baby.” Eddie grabs your hand and guides you out of the house without a moment’s hesitation.
Will shuts his eyes and closes Eddie’s notebooks without peeking, before Dustin or Mike think to hop up and have a rummage.
“Eddie, they're going to tell us to go home and wait until my contractions are more frequent.”
“That’s fine, but I want you to get checked out first.” Eddie’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel.
“We don’t even have my hospital bag in the van, we need to go home first. We can call my parents and Wayne too and let them know.” Eddie takes the next turn reluctantly, clearly not happy with the diversion back to your house but knowing you’re making sense.
You’re helped down from the van and as another contraction hits so does a wave of nausea and you proceed to vomit on Eddie’s shoes. Mercifully they’re not his usual white reeboks, they’re black so the staining isn’t visible, because that would probably make you vomit again.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, I need new shoes anyway.” He shuffles out of them and dumps them into the trashcan as you head to the front door. You call your parents as Eddie hops up the stairs, taking about 4 at a time by the sound alone. He's coming back down the stairs just as you tell your parents what’s happening, a bag slung over one shoulder and trying to hop into a new shoe.
“You can call Wayne, I desperately need to sit down.” You struggle over to a chair as Eddie dials, phone pressed into his shoulder as he puts the other shoe on.
“Hey Wayne -”
You hear a small pop and feel fluid trickling down your leg, for a split second you wonder if you might have pissed yourself but then it dawns on you.
“SHIT BABY COMING GOTTA GO BYE.” Eddie manages to garble out before he slams the receiver down and all but fireman carries you out of the house.
Without the cushioning of liquid your contractions are suddenly infinitely worse, to the point that when you arrive at the hospital the first thing you say to a member of staff is,
“Drugs. Get me drugs.”
You’re helped into a wheelchair and wheeled into an examination room where a midwife checks you over and confirms you’re in labour, to which you snarkily reply,
“I could have told you that!” Eddie mouths an apology to her and is waved off,
“If you think that’s the worst anyone has said to me mid-labour you are mistaken. Let me take you guys to a room and you can get settled in there.”
Eddie settles you on the bed, making sure you have enough pillows to be comfortable and fussing around until you ask him to just sit down because he’s making you anxious with his pacing. You receive pain relief and are able to relax between exams, and countless members of staff walking in and out to check on you. You have gas and air available to you and of course Eddie asks to try it as soon as you’re on your own.
“Oooh I feel all dizzy.” Eddie laughs as he hands the mouthpiece back to you,
“I’m more enjoying it for the pain relief, but I’m glad you’re having fun.” You stick your tongue out at him.
It’s around 9pm when you first start feeling the urge to push, you alert Eddie and he presses the call button behind your head. Your midwife confirms that you can start to push and Eddie pales for a second but shakes his head, regaining himself and comes to stand by your side taking your hand in his.
It takes two hours of pushing, your whole body wracked with pain and covered in sweat. Eddie tried to distract you from the pain by slipping his fangs in when you weren’t looking and then flashing you a cheesy grin, that did make you laugh until you realised that laughing hurt just as bad as a contraction at the minute. Eddie didn’t have time to remove the fangs before you had to push once more, and this time you were told to hold the push, because the baby's head was so close. You held until you were fairly sure you were about to pass out and then managed one more push.
“Okay heads out! Now let's get these shoulders out and get this guy out!” You could only give a half hearted thumbs up to the midwife as you huffed on the gas and air as though it might hold the secret to getting the baby out with one painless push.
“You got thish.” Eddie rubs your back, “My shtrong girl, you can do it.”
You listen to your body and your midwife’s instructions and eventually, after a lot of pushing, swearing and sweating, you feel a small foot kick your thigh and an almost instant relief of pressure.
The cry comes moments later, a beautiful sound to yours and Eddie’s ears. Your son is placed on your chest and Eddie perches on the bed, putting his arm around you to cradle you gently as you look down at the small person laying on you.
Wayne was absolutely right about the Munson nose, and dark tufts on his slightly bloodied head indicate he’s got Eddie’s hair. The shape of his lips is similar to your own and it makes you smile to see your own features in this perfect being in your arms. Your midwife helps you finish delivery then takes your son away briefly to check him over and clean him up a bit, eventually handing you a bundle of blue blankets surrounding his face.
“11.59pm, he just made the cut for a Halloween birthday.” The midwife jokes,
“Hell yeah he did.” Eddie grins, then practically melts into a puddle when his finger is grabbed so tightly. You rest the back of your head on Eddie’s chest and he rests his chin on the top of your head as you both stare in absolute wonder.
“Can’t believe we made him.” You say quietly,
“Me neither. He’s just so perfect.” You nod at Eddie’s words, stroking the top of your son’s head.
“You should probably call our families, let them know.”
“You sure? They can wait till tomorrow.” You nod reassuring him you are happy for him to step out for a second.
Eddie keeps the door open, and stretches the phone cord to its absolute limit so that he never has to take his eyes off of the two of you while he makes the calls. Your parents cry, but Wayne? Wayne wails down the phone at the news, utterly unintelligible noise.
“Okay… Well, visiting hours are from 9am so you can come meet him if you want.” More loud sobbing, that sounds like an agreement.
After a night of not really sleeping because you don’t want to take your eyes off of your new baby, and also doing your best impression of a human cow, as you described it to Eddie, 9am rolls around and your parents and Wayne, who had carpooled and being sitting in the car in the parking lot since 7.30am don’t wait a second before they’re practically running to meet their first grandchild.
Wayne is allowed first cuddles and then proceeds to make the strange, strangled wailing noise from last night when Eddie whispers the name to him. Your parents busy themselves with checking on you, trying to wait their turn to see their grandson. Wayne passes the baby to your mother who wells up when the soft weight is placed in her arms, your father similarly chokes up, looking between the baby, you, and Eddie.
“He’s a perfect mix of the pair of you.”
Eddie peers over your mother’s shoulder, “Yeah, sorry about the nose kid.” Everyone softly chuckles and your father awkwardly places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
“Do we get to know the name then?” Your mother asks, gesturing at a quiet sniffling Wayne, you nod and gesture to Eddie.
“His name is Oscar Wayne Munson.” The loud sobbing from Wayne starts up again and your parents smile,
“Or, Ozzy.” You speak up and your mother glances at you, confused,
“Like Osbourne?” You nod, Eddie’s a little too stunned to speak that your mother knows who Ozzy Osbourne is.
“It actually fits, really well.” Your mother laughs looking down at the baby in her arms, “Little Ozzy.” Eventually she is convinced to pass him to your father for cuddles, and then Oscar is placed back in your arms, where you hold him close to you, inhaling that fresh new baby smell that Eddie was convinced was a myth until he’d sniffed Oscar’s head and declared they needed to make that smell a car air freshener. Your family stay for a while, but they notice you getting tired and politely excuse themselves, leaving you and Eddie to cuddle up with your child.
“Hey, did you ever think, all those times you were glaring at me from across the canteen that we’d get to this point?”
“Eddie, I love you so much. But if anyone had told me back then this was how my ‘86 was going to go I would have personally driven them to Pennhurst myself.”
“‘86 was definitely our year though, right?”
“Absolutely.”
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A Hazy Shade Of Winter
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: It’s the first notable snowfall of the year in Hawkins and there is absolutely nothing that will stop Eddie from making the most of it.
Word Count: 2.9k+
Warnings: Mentions of sickness.
Eddie’s smooth forehead is hot against your cheek as he snores roughly into the side of your neck. You don’t necessarily mind the extra heat; with the massive snowstorm that blew through last night, you know the rest of the trailer is bound to be freezing. However, the rattling congestion you can hear in Eddie’s breathing does have you a little bit concerned.
Poor thing has been fighting a nasty cold for days and he just can’t seem to kick it. You’re starting to wonder if perhaps he has the flu. You’d pumped him full of NyQuil last night and it seems to be the only thing that's finally allowed Eddie to get some decent rest.
His weight shifts beside you, nuzzling into his pillow and muttering something pitiful about being too hot. You slip away from Eddie’s body in the hopes of cooling him off just a little and shush him back to sleep, pushing sticky tendrils of hair off of his sweaty face to lay a sweet kiss on his cheek. He begins to rouse with a pained groan, his voice gruff with sickness and sleep as he eyes you warily.
“Where you going?” he asks with a wince.
“You said you were hot,” you offer. “Just wanted to give you some space.”
“No.”
Eddie practically barks the single syllable, eyes shut as he reaches blindly to pull you back into him. He wrestles your arm up and over his bare back, a silent request for you to hold him.
After a few fruitless minutes of sniffly grumbling and restless flopping, Eddie gives up on trying to fall asleep again. He rolls over onto his back and sighs dramatically.
“I’m dyin’,” he declares quietly.
You can’t help snickering at Eddie’s theatrics as you sit up and gaze down upon his sprawled form. His eyes are so heavy with exhaustion that he can hardly keep them open and his cheeks are slightly flushed. Placing the back of your hand to his forehead, you determine that his fever has diminished if not disappeared altogether. He’s probably on the upswing even if he still feels like shit. Glancing towards the window, you spot a bit of white sticking to the window screen and you smile.
“It snowed,” you announce, nudging your sickly bedmate. “Look.”
Eddie’s glassy eyes fly open and it’s the most life you’ve seen from him since he fell ill. He shakily props himself up on his elbows as he squints towards the bright window. You haven’t checked yet to see how much has fallen, though the forecast had predicted quite a few inches. Mustering as much excitement as he can in his current state, he gasps loudly. The grimace that follows indicates that his sore throat is most definitely still present.
“We gotta play in the snow.” Eddie rasps, glancing at you with a smile.
While you admire Eddie’s constant zest for fun and adventure — along with the way he views the world with such child-like wonder — there’s just no way you’re letting him out of this bed today. He still needs to rest…badly.
Eddie grunts and groans as he pulls himself into an upright position and the blankets slip, revealing more of his pale skin. He rubs his dry eyes and scratches the back of his neck, detaching the damp strands of hair from his sweaty nape. It takes him a moment to get his bearings and you fight the urge to scold him when he reaches for the ashtray balanced on top of a nearby guitar amp.
With a lighter in his other hand, Eddie twists around and fixes his mouth to say something to you. When he spots your brows raised in disapproval, the words die on his tongue. Eyes flicking from you to the joint pinched between his fingers, he has enough sense to at least look sheepish.
“For my congestion,” he explains, though the scratchy words barely sound convincing to his own ears.
Your only response is a dubious tilt of your head, to which Eddie purses his lips. He seems to consider the idea of smoking a second longer before his hands drop into his lap and his shoulders slump. Returning the joint to its previous place, Eddie tips backwards and drops into the crumpled sheets beside you. With an offer to fetch him something warm to drink to soothe his aching throat and hopefully ease his stuffy nose a bit, you hop out of the bed.
Eddie’s eyes are already slipping shut again and he pulls a corner of the blanket up and over his body before you’ve even made it out of the room. On your way up, you snatch a hoodie that has been left draped over the neck of Eddie’s acoustic guitar. The oversized garment swaddles your body comfortably and your fuzzy socks shuffle silently down the carpeted hallway as you head towards the kitchen to make Eddie some tea.
Reaching into the cabinet, you scoot several mugs out of the way until you find Eddie’s favorite: the wide orange cup sculpted in the shape of Garfield The Cat. You place the mug on the chipped countertop and search for the buried box of teabags. Too impatient to wait for the kettle to boil, you fill the mug in the sink and pop it into the microwave. Not like Eddie will be able to tell the difference anyway.
As the whir of the microwave fills the quiet kitchen, you move back towards the sink and lift onto your toes to look out the small window. The backyard is blanketed in a surprisingly deep layer of snow. In the distance, you can barely make out the thrilled squeals and laughter of children, presumably playing in the fallen fluff. You imagine Eddie would sound much the same if he were in any condition to be out there with them. As a few residual flakes flutter down from the sky, you wonder whether it’s the soft and fluffy type or heavy and compactable — the good stuff.
The humming appliance halts with an electronic beeping and you swing the door open to carefully grab the steaming mug. You scoop a heap of sugar into the brew — sweetening it just the way Eddie likes it — and add a blob of honey to help his throat. Just then, you hear a thunderous bang emanating from the direction of Eddie’s room and you’re instantly in motion.
You’re worried that he’s fallen or otherwise hurt himself and the scalding tea sloshes and nearly spills over onto your hand as you rush down the hallway. Swinging the door open, you skid to a halt, hardly believing what awaits you. In the center of the floor sits Eddie; bundled up in a woolen scarf, a thick coat that’s zipped nearly to his chin, and a ridiculous pom pom-topped knit hat perched atop his head to complete the ensemble as he struggles to pull a partially-laced boot onto his socked foot. Evidently, he wasn’t kidding when he’d mentioned going out in the snow.
“What are you doing?” you snap, your voice taking on a distinctly motherly tone.
Eddie’s handsome face breaks into a half-hearted, tired smile as he clambers to his feet and lifts a pair of mittened hands. Although you can’t see them, you know his fingers wiggle animatedly beneath the patterned fabric.
“We gotta make a snowman,” he announces hoarsely.
“The only thing you’re doing is getting back in that bed,” you demand, setting down the hot tea. “And drinking that.”
“But baaaabe,” he whines as he stamps one foot. “It’s the first big snow!”
You sigh good-naturedly, as if that fact is meant to change your mind even a little. There’s no way you can let Eddie outside in the cold as sick as he is. Even if he does look ridiculously adorable with the way the thickness of his coat makes his arms stick out away from his body like an over-stuffed teddy bear.
“Eddie, I swear,” you begin. “If you don’t get your ass back in bed...”
“Just for a little while, I promise,” he begs, cutting off your threat. “I’m already sick. It’s not like I’m gonna get worse.”
It isn’t lost on you the way he sounds just like a petulant little boy, pleading any which way he can to get what he wants. He closes in on you, enveloping you in his puffy arms and burying you against his bundled-up body as he squeezes you tight. When he begins to whisper ‘please, please, please’ into your hair, you can feel your resolve beginning to crumble. And when those wide, chocolate eyes look down upon you to reiterate the request, how can you possibly say no?
“Ugh, fine,” you relent with a sigh. “But just to make the snowman and then you’re coming back in.”
Eddie jumps up and down where he stands, jostling your entire body with his energized movements. He ceases only long enough to pull away and unleash a bone-rattling sneeze that instantly has you doubting your choice to agree to his unreasonable behest. But Eddie is digging in the back of his closet to find you some warm clothes and gloves before you have a chance to stop the runaway train of determination. He produces a ratty scarf as well as a black cowboy hat adorned with a silver skull — the one Eddie insisted on having because it reminded him of the one his favorite guitarist wears — to decorate your snowman with.
Slipping the gloves over your hands, Eddie takes your fingers in a tight grip and yanks you down the hall behind him. He’s practically bouncing with joy as he swings the front door open and takes in the sight of the vast whiteness outside; the snow is at least a foot deep. The smile plastered across his face melts your heart.
Much to your surprise, Eddie hops out onto the porch before promptly diving headfirst into the snow-covered yard. He sinks beneath the sea of white, his body half-ensconced by the fluffy blanket of snow. When he emerges, clumps of frost cling to the ends of his long hair and ice crystals dance along his eyelashes. The chill of the crisp air reddens Eddie’s cheeks right away, though the temperature shows no signs of dampening the smile that gleams in the morning light.
Bits of snow tumble along the slope of Eddie’s hat and the way he pops up in the yard reminds you of the meerkat documentary he demanded you watch with him just last week. He invites you over with an enthusiastic waving of his mittened hand before he drops to the ground and begins forming an orb of snow between his palms.
You join Eddie, fashioning a snowball of your own and casting a quick glance in his direction to see if he’s got the same idea as you. Before you know it, each of you is frantically crawling across the yard in a desperate race to build your section of the snowman before the other can finish. Eddie squawks loudly, stumbling and nearly falling face first into the rounded mound of snow he’s formed. You shove your own snowball in his direction, victoriously rolling it next to him and presenting the massive, icy lump with a proud slap.
“Looks like I win,” you decide, eyeing Eddie’s own impressive snowball as he plops it on top of yours. “Rock, paper, scissors for the head?”
“Nope,” Eddie refuses, a grin splashed across his reddened face. “You do it, I gotta go get something!”
With that, Eddie bounds off towards the trailer, leaving you to sort out the final piece. You wonder if Eddie will find it comical to give the snowman a disproportionately tiny head, but he takes so long to return that you end up rolling quite a large one. In the meantime, you begin to burrow down into the snow, digging until you reach the gravel driveway in search of some rocks to use for the snowman’s face.
The slamming of the trailer door prompts you to look up, observing the objects Eddie holds as he jogs in your direction. In one hand he carries a pair of seemingly empty beer bottles; in the other, something neon pink and unidentifiable.
He hands off the amber bottles and leans down to pluck the black hat from the snow and drop it onto the snowman’s head. As he unfurls the bit of brightly colored fabric, you quickly realize what it is and begin to laugh.
The cups of the gaudy bra are much too large to belong to you, so you can only imagine where it came from. Eddie carefully wraps the band of the undergarment around the rotund midsection of your snowy friend, even taking the time to carefully fasten each of the hooks in the back. He takes the bottles from you and when you give him a questioning look, he offers only one simple answer.
“Arms,” he says confidently, jabbing the skinny necks of each bottle into the sides of the snowman.
Though it makes no sense to use such a thing, you can’t find it in yourself to argue with Eddie’s choice of limb. It looks ridiculous and trashy, but somehow it works. Just as he turns to you to inquire about the snowman’s face, you’re reaching in your pocket for the pile of little rocks you’d collected earlier. The way Eddie smiles at you assures you that you’ve just read his mind.
He sets to work, painstakingly selecting the perfect stones for each facial feature as he puts the finishing touches on what may be the worst snowman you’ve ever seen. With his tacky wardrobe and disturbingly wide, drooping frown, you’re sure this could be the star of Frosty The Snowman should anyone ever decide to turn the classic film into a horror movie.
You each stand back to admire your handiwork, the arm Eddie threads around your shoulders giving you a playful shake. He lifts his other hand in front of his face, squints one eye, then mimics the sound of a camera shutter as if taking an imaginary photograph.
“He’s a pretty chill guy,” Eddie jokes, looking down expectantly while you giggle and roll your eyes.
Though you now attempt to herd Eddie back inside, he’s expectedly resistant. He wails as if your insistence physically pains him, then flops dramatically onto his back, his body making no noise as it falls. You watch him close his eyes and immediately know that he’s going to try playing dead so that you can’t cut his fun short. Peeking up at you through the slit of one eye, Eddie begins to flap his arms slowly at his sides, lifting the spread limbs up and down to carve sweeping trenches through the snow. He does the same with his long legs, then leaps to his feet once more.
“Look!” he prompts happily, pointing down; his expression giddy when he sees what he’s created. “Holy shit, that thing is demented.”
Following the direction of his gesture, you study the sloppy indentation Eddie so proudly presents. Given the way he’d flopped down earlier, the decoration on his hat has left a long streak in the snow; just above the crown of the angel’s head, so that it lends the appearance of a single horn.
“It’s a snow devil,” you snicker, coming to stand beside Eddie.
“I love it when you say shit like that,” he laughs, leaning in to give you a chilly kiss.
Eddie circles the impression, trudging slowly towards the head of the angel and being careful not to disturb it — not any further, at least — so that he can use the toe of his boot to trace a matching divot through to snow to complete the pair of horns and make it a truly sinister silhouette. He claps his snow-caked mittens together and turns to you in search of your approval, glad to see you smiling at his creation.
“Alright…back inside, mister,” you command, making sure you do not step on Eddie’s snow devil as you approach him.
He tips his head back and whines in protest, though comes along somewhat willingly this time when you latch onto the sleeve of his jacket and urge him in the direction of the trailer. Eddie treads quite easily, seemingly entertained as you struggle to trudge through the deep snow. You climb the steps and squeeze through the doorway together, immediately beginning to shed your layers.
Eddie tosses his hat and gloves on the ground, something you can’t help scolding him for. He’s stripped down to a dingy t-shirt and a pair of sweats and already shuffling barefoot towards the couch before you’ve even managed to pop a single boot off.
Just as you're about to begin unlacing your other shoe, Eddie coughs violently. Not once…not twice, but with steady and unrelenting force until you’re worried he may asphyxiate. Sure, he’d been pretty sick this morning, but he certainly wasn’t hacking up a lung like that. You straighten slowly, leveling a burning stare at the wet, disheveled hair on the back of his head. Eddie turns to you, his eyes wide and contrite as he sniffles with vigor and offers one last robust cough.
Joseph Quinn Masterlist ✦ Writing Masterpost
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader fanfiction#eddie munson x reader fanfic#eddie munson x you fanfiction#eddie munson x you fanfic#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#joseph quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn fanfic#joseph quinn
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The Ink Shop
Description: Desperate for a job, you answer an advertisement not knowing it's a tattoo shop. It's not particularly difficult work, except for one thing: having to deal with Eddie Munson.
Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI or I'll tell your parents, fem reader, thick sexual tension, angst and smut. Fingering.
A/N: I finally wrote it! The teach me fic I've been day dreaming about forever. This will be part one of three, and honestly this is one of the hottest things I've written. If you enjoy it, please comment and reblog, it means the world to me.
8k words
Masterlist Part 2
Screwing your nose up in confusion, you look at the meticulously cut snippet of newspaper neatly attached to your resume with a paperclip. Sure enough, receptionist and administrator wanted for a place called ‘The Ink Shop’.
The outside of the building looks a little bleak, all decked out in black with frosted windows, but the fading lettering above does indeed spell out ‘The Ink Shop’.
Weird. This does not look like a printers.
You smooth down a minor wrinkle in your white shirt and open the door with unsure hands, the bell above ringing out loudly.
Oh.
This is not a printers. This is a tattoo shop.
The thought hadn't even crossed your mind. The noise is a cacophony of buzzing, rock music and loud conversation. Art hangs on every available wall, the wallpaper underneath a royal purple, faded over time. There's frames upon frames of predesigned pieces for people to choose from, and an enormous wooden counter, black and gouged with use, directly in front of the doors.
Taking a confidence boosting breath you march forward, pencil skirt stretching and heels clicking on the black and white linoleum, and stand by the counter. No one seems to have noticed your arrival, and a polite cough is not going to cut it.
“Hello?” Calling out to the shop, a devilishly handsome tattooed man in a ripped band shirt, black jeans and scuffed army boots turns his head. Loose dark curls escape a low bun and swivel with him, framing his animated face. He saunters over to the counter and towers over you, giving you an appraising look.
“You old enough to be in here sweetheart?” He asks, amused, as he points to the sign on the wall that states ‘Strictly Over 21s, no exceptions’.
“Yes?” You're trying to be confident but it comes out as a question, entirely taken aback by the strength of his stare.
“Oh, well then I'm Eddie,” he holds out a hand and you're forced to reach up to shake it, but to your surprise he doesn't let go. The skin is rougher than you thought it would be, and absolutely covered in small tattoos. “What is it today? Let me guess, cover up an ex boyfriend's name? I can help you forget all about him.”
The grin he shoots back is nothing short of predatory. All you can think of is that old childhood song, never smile at a crocodile…
“No, no, I'm here about the job?”
He looks genuinely surprised, taking in your outfit in another flagrant stare.
“Really? You?”
“Yes, me.” You respond, cheeks flushing in annoyance.
“Hey, Mac!” He calls over his shoulder and a big guy with a shaved head lowers his tattoo gun, glancing over at you both. “This girl's after a job?”
Mac stands up slowly and begins to walk over.
“You can let go now princess.”
Staring at Eddie dumbfoundedly, you realise his grip on your hand has softened completely. Whipping your hand away, you flash him a defiant eye. It's ineffective; he merely grins wider and winks at you, poking his tongue out playfully. You see a hint of silver, a tongue piercing.
“Hey there, I'm Mac, the owner.” another handshake, but gentler and brief. You introduce yourself and go to hand him your resume.
A phone rings on the counter and Mac shouts “no!” just as Eddie picks it up.
“Mac’s Roadkill Café, from your grill to ours.” Eddie delivers the line as smooth as silk, never taking his eyes off you. “Yeah, it's Eddie, of course. Oh, I'll tell him. Thanks.”
As Eddie turns to Mac he's given a small but effective slap to the back of the head by Mac.
“What did I tell you, stop answering like that!”
Eddie just grins wider and looks at you again, a fake pout on his full lips.
“You see that? Harassment in the workplace. Wanna kiss it better?”
Mac shuts his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, then turns to face you again.
“Are you immediate start?”
“Er, yeah. I've got my resume, and references here-”
“Listen Miss, if you can read and write, answer a phone, and put up with that-” he says, gesturing a thumb at Eddie, “then you've got the job.”
Thank God, two of those references were your best friend with different names. Stunned, you just nod fast.
“Great. Tomorrow morning. We open at 10am.”
Saying goodbye, you turn to exit, and risk one final glance over your shoulder. Eddie's still at the counter. A disarming wink, and then the door shuts behind you.
********************
So, not exactly what you expected, but a job's a job. After getting a degree, you'd assumed doors would open, but a string of coffee houses later and here you are. You'll take it.
It's 9:30 am, and you stand outside, wondering whether or not to try the door. Keen, but not too keen. It's a line you're trying to toe without much experience, especially with an establishment like this.
A pretty woman with an undercut and a butterfly neck tattoo stirs you out of your calculations.
“Hey, I'm Chloe. You're the new girl, right? Eddie bet you'd be early.”
Blushing at the entirely accurate first impression, you try to stop your nose scrunching in distaste. As if reading your mind, Chloe chuckles.
“Ah, don't worry about him, he's an idiot. Come on, I'll show you the ropes.”
Chloe is the piercer that basically rents a place in the shop, where she's been for around three years, she explains. There's also Julio, who does more realistic tattoo work, and Miranda who works part time.
Chloe turns out to be warm and welcoming, showing you how they book clients in, how to take payments, and the phone note system. It's straightforward work, stuff you'll master in no time. In fact, you feel comfortable enough by 10 am to sit at the counter on your own.
Mac arrives on time, giving you a quick check in and taking down all your information on a yellow legal pad.
“Do you not have a computer in here?” you ask, genuinely puzzled.
“Oh no, not yet. I don't know how to work those things, Miss.” Mac chuckles, and gets to his station to prepare for his first client.
At 10:45 am Eddie walks through the door as if he owns the place.
Your eyes widen at his brazen lateness, but no one seems to bat an eyelid. It boils your blood; to be that disrespectful and clearly not care. How could someone act like that?
“Hey princess, didn't think you'd come back,” he smiles, reaching for your hand.
Oh I'm not falling for that again.
You pull your hand into your lap, expecting trickery from him. A smug grin smears across his face at the gesture, as if he knew you'd do that. It makes you even more annoyed.
“Eddie, the book says you start,” you say, flicking through the tome in front of you, “ah, at 10 am today.”
“It's walk-in Wednesday sweetheart. There's no one here.”
He's got a point. Chloe had explained the tattoo artists work a shift of Wednesdays, someone is always available for walk-ins for small and pre designed pieces. Today is Eddie's turn, and he's right, no one is here.
“Well, there could have been,” you snark back, folding your arms.
He crosses into the shop, pushing the little gate open and stands next to you, arms crossed. The height you had is now lost, forcing you to look up at him.
“As far as I know, you ain't the boss of me. I suggest taking the stick out of your ass before you come here.”
Mouth falling open in outrage, you move to reply but he's already turned away.
“Oh, and princess, there ain't a dress code.”
He's gone, disappearing upstairs. Blushing crimson, you cross your arms as if you can hide the conservative outfit you're wearing.
You're beginning to see why Mac asked if you could put up with Eddie.
********************
Halfway through the day, you realise just why Mac puts up with Eddie.
“Hey! Seeing if I can book with Eddie?”
“Any appointments with Eddie?”
“Just checking to see if Eddie had any cancellations?”
It seems most calls are about him. As you check his schedule, it's not only fully booked for the next 6 months, they've even started a waiting list at the back.
“Any walk-ins?”
The words next to your ear make you jump bodily, almost losing your place on your chair in alarm.
“You scared me! No, I would have said,” turning to him, you're sucked into those deep brown eyes once again. “Why do you do walk-in Wednesdays if you're so… so popular?”
Eddie flashes a smile at you, full of self importance. “I don't know sweetheart, Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle!” Shouting the last part at the back of Mac's head, he turns to you. “We just divided the shifts, so it was fair, that's all. Why, want a tattoo?”
You roll your eyes. “No, I was just wondering.”
“Do you have any, princess?”
“Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't.”
The laugh that rips from Eddie's chest is hearty and full of amusement.
“You work in a tattoo shop and you don't have any? That's practically blasphemy!”
The little bell above the door rings, and a nervous guy looks around before walking in. Before you see what he wants, you shout to Eddie's retreating back.
“Van Gogh was only famous after he died, you know!”
It's a little later on in the day; you've done a stock take, ordered more ink, and neatened up the consent sheets three times. The phone hasn't rung in a while, and you're bored out of your mind.
Chloe walks over, coat in her hand.
“Hey, how you getting on?”
“I'm good, just bored.”
She laughs, “it's not always this quiet, mid week and all. Mac's done for the day, and I'm heading off. You gonna be OK?”
You glance over to Eddie, who to your surprise is tattooing his own fingers.
“What, with the untrained monkey? I'll live.”
She laughs harder at that, “he's not so bad, once you get to know him.” Lowering her voice, she whispers, “he's good at some things, you know.” The conspiratorial wink fills in what she isn't saying. Cheeks flushed, you gawp at Eddie and back at Chloe.
“Huh? W-what, are you like, an item?” You ask, entirely thrown.
“Oh no, he's not exactly boyfriend material. It was just one night, but bloody hell. Anyway, it's not like that anymore, we're just friends now. Maybe you two should just, you know.”
A blush floods your face, almost reaching the roots of your hair. “I don't- I don't, do that.”
“I'm just saying, it's an option. It'd stop the bickering at least. I can sense the tension from all the way over there.”
Without a further word, she leaves you sitting on your stool, trying to remember how to breathe.
Right, let's just play nice.
Walking over to his station, you try to glimpse what he's tattooing.
“I thought Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle” you quip, trying to keep it light.
“This is different” he responds, not looking up at you.
“You know, that's a waste of a needle.”
Eddie turns the machine off and rolls his eyes at you.
“Who made you Princess of the Needles, hmmm?”
“Mac did actually, when he asked me to check the stock,” you reply hotly, folding your arms. Stopping for a second, you take a breath. Play nice, you're supposed to be playing nice.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to-”
Eddie turns the machine back on and continues with his impromptu tattoo.
“Can't you just be… professional?” You ask over the buzzing.
“Can't you just relax for a second? No ones here. Fuck, you need to get laid.”
Mouth dropping open in shock, you grab your bag and stomp out of the store, anger fuelling every step.
********************
Right, be calm, put together. You've dealt with worse people.
It's true. At the coffee shop you had on edge caffeine addicts shout in your face almost on a daily basis, but none of them got under your skin like Eddie did. Then again, none of them had spat truths like venom in your face.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Taking the leap, you walk into the shop, coffees and a tray of donuts in hand; a small peace offering. To your surprise, he is already at his station, sorting through ink pots.
You make quick work of handing out coffee and donuts to everyone, until you reach his side. There's plastic wrap around one of his fingers, you assume from his little tattoo session yesterday. It only serves to remind you of how tetchy you were.
“Morning Eddie.”
“So you came back. Tough little princess ain't ya? Remove the stick from your ass yet?” The grin he flashes you is wide but there's a bite to his words.
He's trying to rile you up, but you ignore it, thrusting a coffee at him.
“I'll be nice if you will.”
Tension laces the air as he stares at your outstretched hand, but he takes the coffee.
“I'm sorry Eddie.”
Opening the box of donuts, you gesture for him to take one. He does, stuffing half of it into his mouth.
“What about you?” you ask.
“Huh?” He mumbles through a mouthful of crumbs.
“Are you sorry…?”
“What for?”
Setting your jaw, your hand is about two seconds from slapping the shit out of him, but you need the money. So, you huff and walk away.
“What did I do?” He huffs, shouting it to the shop.
“You should just say sorry, you've clearly upset her.” Chloe calls over to him, a slight smile on her face.
“Yeah, how do you know?”
“You upset everyone Eddie.” She laughs, and stands to greet her first client.
It's a tense kind of day, with neither you nor Eddie backing down, only speaking to each other if absolutely necessary. By the time everyone's left it's just you and him again.
He's finishing up with a client, telling them about aftercare as they gush about their new ink. It's difficult to deny, the guy is talented. This phoenix tattoo looks like it's popping right off of the skin, the flames so bright and detailed you could swear you saw them move.
Once they've left, there's an awkward pause. Eddie breaks the silence first.
“Listen, I'm sorry sweetheart. I shouldn't have been rude to you. So I'll make you a deal. I'll give you a tattoo, for free, and we ask each other questions, get to know each other. What do you say?”
Smiling in spite of yourself, you turn to face him. “And why would I want a tattoo?”
He visibly relaxes at your grin, and flashes one of his own. “Come on, I'm the best. I promise I'll be gentle.”
“We close at six, so it'll have to wait.”
Eddie looks at the clock, and bobs his head with each tick. Twenty seconds later he turns to you, eyebrows raised.
“Fine, I suppose it is a bit silly to work in a tattoo shop with no ink.”
He punches the air with glee, forcing you to smile despite your better judgement.
“Well then, what are you thinking, got any ideas in mind?”
“I want a heart on my hip” he groans, putting his face in his hands, “hang on, before you judge, I want one like this.”
Pulling a book from your bag, you turn to the page neatly bookmarked. It's an anatomical heart from a textbook you own, a line and dot drawing.
“Oh.” Eddie's eyes light up, “that's pretty metal, actually. So, you just happen to have this on you?”
“No, I've been thinking about it for a while. It's… not what people would expect. And when I got the job here, I was working up the courage to get it. Carrying around the book was a promise to myself, I think.”
He busies himself with getting a stencil ready, the drawing supplied speeding up the process.
“Right, climb on up princess, show me where you want it.”
Blushing, you unzip your skirt at the back and roll it down slightly, shifting your blouse up high. The smile Eddie gives you is salacious, but he doesn't say a word.
“Right here?” Softly his fingertips graze you, making you jump. That simple act crackles over your skin in an electricity unknown to you.
“Y-yes,” you practically whisper it, face crimson.
“So, questions. Can I go first?”
“Sure” you nod, feeling vulnerable flashing this much skin.
“OK,” he starts, pressing the stencil down, “I'll start with an easy one. How old are you?”
“23.”
He nods, prepping the needle, “your turn princess.”
“How old are you?”
“Ah, copycat,” he grins, testing the gun, the sudden noise making you jump, “I'm 30 sweetheart. I know, I look younger.”
Act younger is more like it.
“I'm gonna start, you still alright?”
“Uh huh.”
“Atta girl. It'll feel like a scratch.”
He leans forward as his words burn your insides. Atta girl? Part of you wanted to tell him you're not a fucking horse, but another, deeper, part keens at the praise, kicking it's feet and twirling its hair like some dizzy schoolgirl.
The needle touches and you jump, but it's fine. It's easy. If anything, it's rather nice? You gasp at the feeling, your feet wiggling.
“Right, next question. Why here, why this job?”
The gun is moving across your skin, consuming all rational thought. You could lie, but a part of you feels like he'd know somehow.
“I thought it was a printers shop, or a copy place.”
He laughs briefly, but continues to focus on your new ink.
“I knew it. Pretty, innocent thing like you, wandering into this den of depravity? Too good to be true.”
Glazing over his comment, you think of a question to ask.
“How did you start working here?”
Eddie scoffs and turns off his machine for a moment, “you need to get creative, stop using my questions.”
“I really want to know!” You say, meeting his derisory look.
“Fine, quid pro quo and all that shit. Been here seven years. I begged. I begged Mac for an apprenticeship everyday for a week. He gave in, and here I am. Ask something else, that was boring.”
You wrack your brains, trying to think of something original, far too aware of the steadying hand that he's pushing onto your abdomen.
“What band is that?”
It's the only thing that pops into your mind. He follows your eye line to his t-shirt.
“Oh this? This is my band, Corroded Coffin. You should come see us sometime.”
“Oh, what do you play?”
His face lights up, “I sing, and play guitar. That's why my fingers are so rough-” he holds one up, covered in black latex, “-oh yeah, gloves.”
After you both share a chuckle, there's a breath of quiet between you, except for the sound of the tattoo gun.
“My turn,” he says, smiling at your hip, “I gotta know, are you a virgin?”
It's a miracle that he's as responsive as he is, since the question knocks you sideways. You sit up in shock, but he's already moved the needle off and away.
“You can't just ask that, it's… it's rude!” you splutter, face glowing red.
There's no trace of apology on his face. In fact, his grin only widens with your reply.
“I thought so. Don't worry, I'm not gonna tease you about it.”
Laying back down, you try to think of something to say, but it just doesn't arrive. He can read you like an open book and it's deeply unsettling, not to mention embarrassing.
“Your turn princess.”
“I don't want to play anymore.”
“Oh come on, I'm being nice! Ask me something.”
“Fine. What was your last wet dream about?”
To your dismay, he smiles yet again.
“You, sweetheart.”
Huffing, you cross your arms in annoyance. “Fine, don't answer.”
He's focusing on your tattoo, tongue poking out in concentration, “I'm nearly done, then you can go back to hating me.”
“I don't hate you. I've never hated anyone,” you respond in truth. Eddie's eyebrows raise, but he remains focused.
“Really? You must have had a much better childhood than mine.”
It's quiet for a bit. You're not sure how to respond to that, feeling the cloud of his memory hanging thickly in the air between you.
“All done.”
“Huh?”
He chuckles and points at your new ink, “take a look.”
It's beautiful. All line and dot work, like it was pulled from the book itself and glued to your hip.
“It's amazing Eddie. Thank you.”
The grin he shoots you is warm as he wraps your new ink and then removes his gloves. “No problem. I'll lock up, the sheets on aftercare are right there. But you knew that.”
Smiling affectionately, you take one and stand up, hovering for a second.
“Eddie what do I owe-”
“-not a damn thing. See you in the morning, princess.”
********************
The next few days were much more pleasant. Eddie was flirty, yes, but he seemed to understand when to stop. You had been nicer to him, biting back on the comments when you could. There was a rhythm to it, a constant dance of him flustering you and you annoying him.
Things really felt like they were falling into place. Until Eddie decided to cross the line.
Walk in Wednesday again, and the shop was dead. Julio was on shift, sitting in the back having a nap.
“Hey Mac, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, what is it Miss?”
“Well, how do people know about our Wednesdays?”
“Mostly word of mouth. We handed out flyers before, but it didn't really pick up. Honestly, I'm thinking of scrapping it.” He shrugs, taking a sip of coffee.
“Before you do, I have an idea. I can design some flyers, get them out to the coffee shop I used to work at. It's by campus, I'm sure a few students would jump at the chance. You could offer a student discount, get them in the door?” You stare at him wide eyed, hoping he likes the idea. The little speech was one you'd practised about fourteen times before actually saying it to him.
He stares at you for a moment, then smiles. “You know, that's a good idea. I like it. Tell you what, you make it a success and I'll give you a raise.”
“Oh, thank you! I'll get on it.” You beam, and start planning the flyer.
Ten minutes later you have your head down, your attention entirely on the paper in front of you. The noisy shop was purely a background soundtrack, including the approaching footsteps. Then, there's a whisper, directly in your ear.
“What you up to, princess?”
“Fuck!”
You scream it out and jump so high you fall off your stool. Eddie's in bits, laughing so hard he's clutching his stomach.
“I'm sorry I didn't mean to,” he says, looking the least sorry you've ever seen a person look.
Clambering off the floor to berate him, your mouth flops open when you hear a rip. As you desperately turn your head to look down, you see where your pencil skirt has torn right next to the seam nearly up to your ass.
“Fuck's sake Eddie! What the hell am I gonna do!”
Hands shaking, you clench your jaw in panic, trying to frantically come up with a way to rectify it. Eddie holds his hands up to you as if he were approaching a wild animal.
“Just calm down princess, it's only a skirt.”
Pouting, you hit him on the arm.
“It's not just a skirt! I can't work like this, how can I go home and change, I won't be able to fix it and-”
Eddie smiles and holds one of your hands.
“It's gonna be OK, we can sort something out. You seriously need to chill, have a big O or something.” He chuckles, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but it's hitting too close to home.
It's never happened for you. You've kissed guys, sure, but whenever they reach into your pants, it's either uncomfortable or downright painful. Even your own desperate fumblings haven't got you there. Most of the time you just feel stupid and awkward trying to touch yourself. So, you'd given up, thinking you're broken. That it'll never happen for you.
Tears well immediately in your eyes. He knows he fucked up, it's written all over his face. As he opens his mouth to speak you rip your hand from his grasp and run to the restroom sobbing.
It's stupid, it's so stupid. You know that, but the tears won't stop falling, face hot and scrunched as you sit on the closed toilet seat with your head in your hands. Your breath is heavy, gulping and wet; you dimly wonder if you can just stay here until the shop closes.
There's a gentle knock on the door.
“Sweetheart, can I come in?” It's Eddie, voice softer than you've ever heard it.
“Go away” you manage. It's shaky and pathetic sounding, but it's out there.
“I'm not going anywhere. Talk to me, you'll feel better, I promise.”
He tries the door, turning the handle before you get a chance to lock it. Jumping upright, you go to push him away but he grabs your wrist and pulls you into him. His embrace takes away that edge and pretty soon you're just sobbing into his chest.
As he strokes the back of your head, he makes shushing noises, his other arm wrapped tight around your shoulders. You're not sure how long you stay like that, in the warmth of his hold, his body pressed against yours. The tenderness calms you down until your tears stop, but he doesn't pull away.
After a while, he whispers, “feel a little better?”
“Y-yeah,” you say, voice returning to itself.
Only then does he release you, rubbing a thumb under your eye to wipe moisture away.
“I didn't mean to hurt you. You wanna go somewhere and talk about it?”
“I- I've never- I don't talk about- I-” you shake your head as if to clear it. A part of you wants to hit him, to shout at him, but his gaze is so concerned that you agree. Your shoulders slump, losing a bit of tension. “OK.”
Smiling at you, he whips his flannel shirt off, leaving him in a white vest, and ties it around your waist.
“For your modesty. Come with me.”
Puzzled, you follow him out of the bathroom and back into the shop where Mac is sitting looking worried.
“What's going-”
Eddie interrupts, “emergency late lunch needed, alright? Can you cancel my 3 o clock?”
Mac seems confused, but looks at Eddie's earnest face, and your emotional one, and nods.
“Not a problem.”
“Thanks, man.”
Before you can ask where you're going, he pulls you from the shop by the arm and across the street into a dimly lit bar, depositing you in the nearest booth.
“I'll be right back.”
If he's uncomfortable by his appearance, he doesn't show it. The way he strides up to the bar, it's as if he owns the place. It's remarkable, the sheer confidence he embodies like a second skin.
“Hey, John!” He hollers, knuckles knocking on the wood of the bar.
John appears, a gruff, stocky guy with a buzz cut and a sour face.
“What the fuck are you doing here.”
“Oh come on, you know you missed me.”
John's face screws into something akin to a smile. “What do you want, you little shit.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” Eddie grins and winks, “two beers please.”
A grunt and a nod, and John puts the beers down on the bar. As Eddie reaches for his wallet John waves a hand in dismissal.
“Put that away boy, your money ain't good here. Besides, your lady friend looks like she needs it.”
You flush and tear your eyes away, embarrassed. Eddie walks back over and puts a beer in front of you.
“Eddie, we're still working I-”
“It's one beer. It's alright.”
You shrug and take a sip, nodding at the bartender, “he knows I'm upset, do I look a mess?”
Shaking his head so hard it releases some of his wayward waves from their confines, he tips his beer at you, before he takes a long chug.
“No,” he says enthusiastically, “you look just as pretty as you always do.”
Scoffing, you turn your eyes downward. Eddie ignores your response, instead pressing on what happened earlier.
“Sorry again,” he says, sounding genuinely distressed, "I don't want to see anyone hurt from something I said, least of all you.”
Meeting his gaze, you smile incredulously. “Oh? And why me?”
“Come on, don't make me say it.”
Staring at him, you fold your arms in an act of defiance. He rolls his eyes and looks at you.
“I like you. You're uptight, and mean to me, and a little conceited, but I like you. I don't want you to hurt. Can we just be friends? I'm a pretty good listener, you know? I can help.”
Heat floods your insides. Eyes scanning him for any sign of a joke, you come up empty.
‘I'm not conceited,” you counter weakly, clinging on to the familiar push and pull.
“And I'm the Easter bunny.”
Giggling, you take another sip of beer.
“Come on, friends? Talk to me.”
Sighing deeply, you fix your gaze at the table, forefinger tracing patterns in the condensation from your drink. “Promise not to laugh?”
“I promise.”
You can't tell how genuine he's being, as you don't dare look at his face, nerves controlling your every limb. His voice seems honest enough.
“I- I have a problem, something I can't physically do. You reminded me of it. It's not your fault.” Shrugging in an attempt to make this look less serious than it is for you, you take a pull out of your beer bottle once more.
“Wait, are you saying…” he chuckles a little in disbelief, “have you never… had an orgasm before?”
“Eddie, be quiet!” You urgently whisper, looking around the bar.
“No one's listening sweetheart, no spies in here,” he says in a low tone, hand reaching out to grasp yours. Your first instinct is to shake his hand away but he holds firm, rough fingertips rubbing against your knuckles.
“Eddie, I'm broken,” you whimper, voice breaking, “I can't do it.”
“Oh sweetheart,” he responds, chock full of emotion, “you're not broken. You are perfect.”
Pulling your hand away, you keep your eyes away from his, unwilling to meet that burning gaze of his. Unwilling to lose yourself in those sultry dark eyes.
“I can't do it. Anytime some guy tries, it hurts. I've given up to be honest. I just wasn't made for it.”
He laughs again, dragging his hand over his face.
“Fuck, sweetheart, the problem ain't you. Have you- have you tried, fixing it, on your own?” The last part is a whisper, you assume to protect your feelings.
“Yeah, but I just feel stupid and awkward. I don't know.”
There's a little silence between you as you both dwell in the suffocating fog of your confession, neither of you willing to clear it.
“Listen, this may be way out of your comfort zone, but I'm saying it anyway. If you don't like it, we'll forget it, and I won't mention it again.”
Finally looking at him, at the vulnerability on his face, you nod, not trusting your voice.
“I can… maybe I can help you. Show you you're not broken? As a favour between friends.”
You laugh mirthlessly and finish your beer. “That's a little more than a favour, Eddie.”
“We can keep it professional.”
You stare at him wide eyed. His messy hair and dark glittering eyes. At the way he slumps in his seat like a king or a delinquent, you can't decide which. At his taunt frame, the tattoos spackling every available inch of his skin. Your eyebrows raise of their own accord.
“Professional? You?”
“Yeah, me! I can do it, you know. I could make you come.”
A shiver forces its merry way down your spine at his words.
“You're really confident.”
“You haven't seen what I can do.”
Blushing hard, you attempt to control yourself. “Look, if we're going to do this, I need you to promise some things.”
“Ah, of course, you would have rules,” he grins, as he leans back and spreads in his seat, “continue.”
Searching your mind for a moment, you try to glean what you need.
“First of all, we need to be discreet, and professional at all times, clear?”
“As crystal,” he grins wolfishly, “anything else?”
“Yeah- I think,” you wrack your brains, trying to come up with something that would make this less intimate. Anything. But the roguish nature of his presence makes it hard to even think of a thing. Finally, your eyes widen at the idea that suddenly crosses your mind.
“Final rule. No kissing.”
He pouts, looking at your chest and back up, “no kissing anywhere?”
“N-no, no kissing on the mouth.”
Grin returning, he winks at you, a gesture that flips your stomach inside out.
“Kinky. Alright, deal,” he leans forward to give his hand to yours. A hand covered in ink and calluses. Roughness and tenderness.
You shake it.
********************
For the next couple of days, your little arrangement isn't brought up. A wild thought hammers itself into your mind; either he wasn't serious, or you imagined it.
Those theories are put to bed on day three.
After you let Mac know about the flyers and the bonus poster you designed, you sit back and enjoy the praise given to you. It's funny, the feeling of being told a job has been well done makes you happier than you care to admit.
Eddie turns up at the counter, whistling through his teeth. “Sweet looking flyers, how'd you swing those?”
“I designed them. I've got a degree in design and marketing, if you didn't know,” you sniff, rearranging the stationary on the counter to avoid his eyes.
“Maybe you could help me design some for my band. These look pretty metal.” He says, picking one up and looking at it closely.
“Maybe.”
Eddie leans in close, so close you feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.
“If you're still up for our arrangement, I'm free tonight.”
Heat immediately flushes your face. Ignoring him entirely, you write your address and a time on a notepad, and thrust the paper into his hands.
“Covert, I like it. See you then princess.”
By the time 9pm rolls around you're a jittery mass of nerves, having changed clothes no less than four times, tidied your apartment, changed the bedsheets and paced so much you're surprised there's not a groove in the floorboards.
In the end you'd decided on a baggy band t-shirt and your sleep shorts. It was a rational calculation to make Eddie think you're just wearing what you usually would at home and therefore show you're not nervous. I mean, you are wearing what you'd usually wear at home. He didn't need to know about how long it took you to reach that decision.
The sound of the intercom buzzing sends your pulse into overdrive. Pressing the button, you let out a strangled “Hello?”
“Hey princess.”
“Come on up.”
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…
A soft knock at the door and you count to five, trying to remember how to breathe. When you open the door, you're stunned. He's leaning on the doorframe in a fucking button up shirt. It's black, and clings to him deliciously. His hair looks a little damp, loose around his shoulders, and his aftershave is making you feel dizzy.
“Oh, you didn't need- I mean-” you point at his shirt, and he looks down and chuckles.
“Just came from band practice. Took a shower, and this was clean,” he shrugs and shoulders into your apartment. “Nice place. Where's all your stuff?”
You look around at your sparse apartment. Everything in order, down to the fresh flowers on your tiny dining table.
“This is all my stuff,” you say, confused, “I don't like clutter.”
He chuckles, walking over to you. “No wonder I annoy you. I am clutter.”
He's close now, close enough so that you have to look up to see his face. His rough fingers ghost your arm, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin.
“Nice seeing you in something casual. L7, right?” He asks, pointing at the t-shirt.
“Yeah, you know who they are?”
“I'm surprised you do. Thought you'd be a Mariah Carey kinda girl.”
You scrunch your face in distaste. “No, not at all. You don't know everything about me.”
He leans in, warm breath a whisper in your ear. “I know some things about you.”
Squirming hotly, you lead him to your room before you lose your nerve.
“So, the princess's bedchamber. It's nice,” he remarks, flopping down on the bed as if it were his own.
“Take your boots off,” you snip, folding your arms.
“Ah, there she is.” He smiles, but does as instructed. Once more he's laying back into your scattered pillows looking perfectly at ease. You, on the other hand, stand there, spine a vertical rod as you stare back at him.
“Come on then, sit down.”
Nervously you sit at the foot of the bed with your legs crossed.
“Now princess, what do you do when you touch yourself?”
Blushing furiously, you stammer out, “what, do you expect me to like, show you?”
He chuckles, diffusing some of the tension. “As much as I'd like that, I don't think you're ready for that kinda shit. Just tell me, what's your thought process?”
Staring at him for a little too long, you open your mouth and close it again. He rolls his eyes.
“Look, if you want me to help I'll help, but you gotta give me something here.” He looks as if he's about to get up and leave; your arm shoots out on its own accord, grabbing his leg to stop him.
“Sorry, sorry. I just, I've never spoken about this kinda stuff. I don't know about any process, I just… reach down and fiddle around?” You blush even more.
“So you don't like, watch anything? Or read anything?” He looks a little amused.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Porn, sweetheart.”
It's so blunt that you jump a little. “Oh no, I've never, oh no no.”
“Christ,” he whispers, “right, you can like, set the mood. Look at something to turn you on? It'd probably help you feel less awkward.”
“Oh. Right.”
“And do you ever just like, slouch? I feel like I'm back at school looking at ya.”
“Huh?”
“Just, come here.” He pats the little space between his spread legs and you hesitate for a second before you crawl over to him.
“How do you want me to sit, like cross legged or-”
He grabs your hips and spins you, forcing your back into his crotch.
“Stop trying to control every little thing,” he says in a hard tone, one you're too embarrassed to admit makes your insides tingle. Softer, he continues. “Look, if you're ever gonna get there you need to relax, stop trying to control it, and stop overthinking.”
“Great, all of the things I'm shit at.”
His laugh is loud, it vibrates into your spine. “I'll help you, OK? You trust me?”
“In a very limited sense of the word, yeah.”
“Lemme rephrase. You still OK to do this?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Just relax.”
You're not sure what you are expecting, but it certainly isn't his hands winding into your hair, fingertips rubbing softly at your scalp. It shoots tingles down your spine, your entire head feeling fuzzy and warm.
You stifle a whimper, biting your lip. His fingers stop.
“If you want to make noises, you can. Tells me I'm doing a good job. That goes for everything else too, alright?”
“Alright.” You whisper.
“You comfortable?”
“Yeah it's just- well-”
“Tell me.”
“I think it's your shirt buttons, they're digging into my back a bit,” you admit, feeling the sharp points down your spine.
“Easily fixed.” He taps your arm and you lean forward. Some rustling, and he throws his shirt to the foot of your bed.
“Now just chill sweetheart.”
His fingers begin rubbing at you again, thumbs sinking low to pop at the bubbles in your neck.
“Fuck, that's really nice.”
He hums appreciatively, working his hands lower and dropping them to your shoulders. The massaging continues, and you feel yourself melting, your body moulding into his. Your legs, once ramrod straight, have bent a little and parted of their own accord, the muscles loosening. Even your breathing has slowed.
“That's better, atta girl,” he says and you whine at the words, a little pathetic mewling sound that tumbles past your lips.
“Oh, you like that, don't you?” The smile is evident in his voice, a smug tone smeared liberally across each word.
“You, you're so-” you begin, but his hand drags across the front of your shirt, just over the tops of your breasts.
“I'm so what?” He whispers in your ear.
“So, so arrogant,” you huff. He laughs, a husky chuckle, and dances the tips of his fingers over your clothed nipple. Gasping, you grasp at his thighs either side of you.
“Yeah? What else am I?” He says, nibbling at your earlobe.
“You- you're cocky, and- and self assured- Oh God!”
Rudely interrupted by him tweaking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, you swear, back arching off of him for a moment.
“You know,” he says in a gravelly tone directly in your ear, “those are pretty much the same thing.”
“You drive me crazy,” you huff, squirming a little against him as his hands explore your chest over your shirt.
“Good crazy or bad crazy?” He smiles, then bites softly at your neck.
“I- I haven't decided yet.”
“Good. I can say the same about you,” he admits, his hands trailing lower, pulling your shirt up so he can stroke at your bare sides. The touch of fingertips on your skin sends a river of sensations through you that run deep into your core.
“Are you going to- what are you doing, exactly?” You breathe, starting to move against him.
“I'm warming you up sweetheart. Why, don't you like it?”
Genuinely curious, you try to ask what you want to know without using the words.
“N- no, I do. Do you have to, erm, get warmed up? When you, you know.”
He lets out a little huff of a laugh. “Guys are a little less… complicated, than girls. For the most part.”
“Oh. OK, so you can just. I mean, you just, get excited?” Your breathing becomes more ragged when the tip of his thumb grazes the underside of your breast.
“Sweetheart, I got hard seeing you in these little shorts.” Running a finger down your stomach, he lightly pings the elastic of your sleep shorts as if to accentuate his point.
“Really?”
There's no denying it when he moves his hips up and you feel his solid bulge press into the small of your back.
“Really. Can I take this off?” He asks, twisting the hem of your shirt in one hand.
“Yeah.” It's a whisper. You're a little scared of being bare chested, but not having to see his face helps. Plus, he's wound you up so much you're on the verge of begging for his touches, pleading for more.
He guides your top up, up, up, revealing you slowly. Coaxing it over your head, you move your arms up so he can remove it. It ends up in a heap on top of his shirt. One tattooed arm wraps around your waist, pulling you toward him more, his hardness pushing against your ass.
His breathing is unsteady as he grinds his hips, pushing onto you further. Gasping, your fingers are vices, firmly attached to his thighs in a vain attempt to anchor you.
Suddenly his hand is winding into your hair, tugging your head aside so he can run a fat tongue across your neck. You shudder at the sensation, feeling the hard ball of his tongue piercing against your throat When he takes his pillowy lips and sucks at the spot between your neck and shoulder a moan slips out. Grunting in approval, his hands are on your bare tits, fingers pinching at your hardened nipples.
“Holy hell!”
He laughs, running rough fingers down your body, circling your new ink, then dipping down past your waistband. Those tattooed fingers barely brush your pubic hair, teasing you, then glide back up to your stomach.
“Eddie, please.”
Your voice is small, not your own. Eddie groans low in your ear, rubbing his length into the fat of your ass.
“Fuck, princess, I like you saying my name like that. You want me to touch you right here?” he says, pressing down hard over your clothed clit.
The sheer relief of having his touch where you need it gets you close to tears; a gulping shudder of a sob rips from deep in your chest.
“See, you're not broken, sweetheart. Can I take these off?”
Shaking, you hook your fingers into your sleep shorts and pull them down your legs, air hitting your most intimate area. Eddie huffs in your ear, his inked hands rubbing up the insides of your thighs.
“You're so fuckin’ sexy.”
Before you can retort, his fingers dip down to your entrance, gathering your slick. You can hear how wet you are, but it's not in you to think about it. You can't think, only feel.
When his fingers run up and start rubbing circles into your clit, your response is visceral. Bucking up, you chase the feeling, searching for even more.
“I'm gonna slip a finger in, alright princess?”
You nod, waiting for the pain, wincing before it even starts.
“It's OK, you're fine, you gotta relax baby.” He strokes your stomach with his free hand, pressing kisses to your temple.
The tip of his finger breaches you, and the pain doesn't come. Your soaking wet cunt invites him in, warm and pulsing with arousal. He slips it into the hilt, his palm pressing into your clit, and your moan is long and loud. It's never felt like this. Never has it stoked a fire in your gut, bubbled your insides like pop rocks and Coke, turned you into a writhing mess.
He fucks his finger into you, slipping a second in to join the first, and you move your hips, chasing the building tightness in your belly. Each thrust of his hand has you bucking, and in turn rubbing against his member trapped within its denim prison.
“That's it, good fuckin’ girl.” His voice is strained, as if he's trying hard not to lose control.
“Eddie, oh fuck, f-feels so- good, yes, please, please-”
You're not sure what you're begging for, and Eddie doesn't seem to be in any state to ask, but it doesn't matter. His fingers fuck into you in earnest, stroking hard against some spot inside that has you babbling and quivering around him.
“God, you're so tight, this little cunts gonna drive me crazy. So wet and perfect, Jesus Christ.”
The feeling seems too much and not enough, and it grows higher and higher, flooding your body with a pleasure so intense you're sure you black out. The only thing you're aware of is your voice screaming out his name as your body thrusts wildly into his grip. Finally, it dissipates, your body melting against his form, sweating and spent.
You take a breath, and another, trying to gather your wits enough to speak. Eddie speaks first.
“So sweetheart, everything you dreamed it would be?” He asks as he strokes your hair.
“Better. Fuck, Eddie. Thank you.”
“Anytime. Seriously. Any. Time. Day, night, weekends, holidays-”
You giggle, slapping his thigh, and sit up, grabbing your discarded shirt to cover up.
“Sorry, that was probably a little er, frustrating for you.” You say as you glance at his bare torso, drinking in the sight with your eyes for the first time. He's lean, but ripped, a faint sheen of sweating making his tattoos glisten in the low light.
“What do you mean sweetheart?”
“Well, doing that, not getting anything in return...”
He chuckles lightly, “Oh I wouldn't say that,” he glances down, gesturing to his jeans, “full disclosure, I came in my pants.”
“Really?” your eyes widen, staring at him with disbelief.
“I ain't lying. Wanna check?” He waggles his eyebrows at you, making you laugh again.
“You seem better already. Right, I better go.”
Shoulders deflating, you pout, “I suppose you better.”
“Hey don't look at me like that. I hoped that helped. Sleep tight, drink some water. I'll see you tomorrow princess.”
And just like that, he leaves. Of course he leaves, it was just a deal you struck, nothing more. A favour. you wipe stray tears from your eyes and try not to focus on the sound of the front door shutting.
As you collapse on the bed, exhausted, you think about his hands, his words. There's something screaming inside, telling you you're playing with fire, but as you drift off you can't find it in you to mind.
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𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here
cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar.
You see both sides of him now.
“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince.
“Hello,” you call back.
The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?”
“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!”
“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step.
“Shit, you wanna see?”
You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.
He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin.
“Another bat?” you ask.
“Not cool?”
“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?”
“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?”
You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre.
The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him.
“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes.
“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands.
“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically.
You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch.
“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says.
“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways.
“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”
“You don’t wanna line up?”
“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that.
“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.”
“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.”
You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained.
Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms.
“You okay?” he asks.
You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move.
“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”
“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.”
“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.
He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long.
“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.”
You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.”
You pull your head up slowly.
He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours.
Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter.
You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his.
With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.
You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation.
Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath.
“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable.
You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth.
“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?”
“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.”
This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers.
His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop.
“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.”
“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.”
He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”
You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips.
“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.”
He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour.
You breathe out happily. “Thank you.”
“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.”
You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it.
“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.”
You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x you#stranger things fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson lives
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eddie ‘monstercock’ munson, who is painfully unaware of the sheer size of his dick.
tw: sexual content 18+ minors dni, size kink, oral m receiving, piv sex, praise kink, dirty talk, general debauchery. for my love @raccoonboywrites
and, listen, you’re not a size queen at all. don’t care much for how big or small a cock is so long as whoever it’s attached to knows how to use it. but you gasp out loud once you get your fingers dig under eddie’s waistband, pulling the offending material down to let his length spring out.
it’s enough to shock you back into the room, watching as the thick weight of it slaps against eddie’s tummy, the way it curves into his navel. he’s wet, leaking at the head and matting down the pretty swirls of black hair that lead a trail down, down, down.
he’s rumpled against your bed frame, slumped down with his shirt rucked up his tummy. the prettiest pink flush spreading across his cheeks, tinging his ears and dipping as low as his collar. you’re willing to bet his chest is blotched with the lovely rosy colour, too. he grips aimlessly at your comforter, wide eyes watching your every move; tracing every hitch of your breath.
you wrap your hand around the base — purposely ignoring the pathetic little whine eddie makes, because jesus now isn’t the time to think too much about that — and you moan despite yourself when your hand doesn’t even wrap fully around the girth of it, dwarfing your fingers and palm.
“you— you’re so big, oh my god,” your voice catches at the end, desperate and dampened by your own desire for it. you lean forward, hot breath ghosting over him, tugging his foreskin back just enough for the head to pop out, shiny and reddening with need, “you could’ve at least warned me you were packing a python down there, fuck.”
“oh shit, really? i thought it was aver— holy fuck, you don’t have to—“ he’s bug eyed, eyebrows shooting under his fringe as you mouth at the head, determined and eager to get a taste of him. uncut, heavy on your tongue, the heady splash of precum blurting out to coat your tastebuds.
eddie’s knees kick up a little as you mouth greedily at his tip, pointing your tongue to run in circles around the glans on the underside. you smirk despite yourself, getting a kick out of it when eddie goes a little cross eyed, burying a ringed hand into your hair.
you indulge yourself, feeling the weight of him in your mouth as you sink lower, just far back enough as to not trigger your gag reflex. your lips wrapping around his hot flesh, suckling softly, reveling in each blurt of pearlescent release that drips onto your tongue.
“baby, sweetheart — fuck,” eddie gasps, breath shuddery, lightly pulling at your tresses to test the water. his mouth falling open into a quiet moan when your eyes flutter at the feeling, “y’can- y’can take more, right? s’not… s’not that big.”
your jaw cracks under what of him you’ve fit in, which truthfully isn’t much. despite your efforts, there’s still a good three inches of eddie’s cock left untouched by hand or mouth, and you really have to wonder if he’s that clueless of his size. you pull off with a wet pop, strings of saliva keeping you connected to him as you stare up with wet orbs.
“eddie, you’re huge.” your voice is wrecked, butterflies swirling in your tummy as you make eye contact with him once again. you flush under his debauched gaze, "i— shit. nobody's ever told you before?"
eddie shrugs, considers for a moment. you don't think he's aware of the fact he's holding you in place with his hand, gripping your hair just enough to keep you still, hovering over his dick just close enough that if he wanted to, he could push you back down, get your mouth back on him.
though, that’s clearly not what he wants. because, he’s slipping the hand from your hair, doing this kind of awkward dance as he lays you out where he wants you.
you end up on your back, thighs spread wide as eddie slots between them, mouthing hotly at your neck. his fingers graze along your flushed skin, dance on your hipbone, across your pelvis. dips those godforsaken fingers into your panties, carelessly fumbling over your sopping wet pussy.
“this is okay, right?”
“it’s all okay, eddie. anything you want.”
"not— not even touched you yet and you're already this wet?" eddie's voice is a low timbre against your skin, has you arching up into his touch with a soft little moan. he sounds shocked, no heat or teasing in his words.
"can't help it," you gasp, exhaling shakily when eddie swipes two fingers over your clit deftly, unable to hide his smile at how receptive you are, "feeling the size of you in my hand — my mouth, god. would've let you choke me with it, would've thanked you."
eddie buries his face into your cleavage, poorly concealing a choked whine. he's skillful with his fingers, working you over fast despite how much your words are clearly affecting him.
your hips rock in short little circles, fingers sinking into eddie's hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck. you whine, body set alight with the feeling of calloused fingers grazing the small bundle of nerves.
he's biting you, brandishing you with little blooming bruises, and with the noise he makes against your damp skin you'd think it was him getting touched like this, him hurtling towards the edge.
you're so wet that the slick noises of eddie's fingers on your pussy are deafening in your ears, causing your back to prickle with heat, tummy winding tight.
the hot, heavy flesh of his cock presses against your inner thigh, shocking loud moans from you both at the same time. you arch up into his touch, ears ringing as pleasure takes over your body.
"i— you're making me cum," you gasp breathily, a static feeling warming your body, eyes rolling into the back of your head. you grapple for eddie's hair once more, tugging with a ferocity as your release washes over you.
it's. something. you feel like you're fucking floating, and eddie keeps swirling his fingers perfectly, whispering little shocked praises and keening into your rough pulling as he wrings you out.
once eddie's sure you're done with the aftershocks of your orgasm, he hazards pushing two fingers into your soaked cunt, and you're practically shooting away with overstimulation. crying out, somehow swivelling your hips and pushing down onto his fingers further once the shock wears off.
"you're a shit," you gasp, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, "god, might've known your dick was gonna be big, fuckin' size of your fingers."
"was— was that good for you? can i, shit can i?" eddie's desperate, rutting the thick outline of his cock against your thigh. he's never stopped fucking leaking, soaking your leg in milky precum and allowing the slip and slide to feel good.
you nod, shaky hands tilting his head up so you can finally, finally, get your mouth on his. eddie's whole body presses flush against yours, his hand coming out to stabilise himself so he doesn't crush you, and fuck.
it's so charged, like he can't stilt his emotions as he snakes his tongue into your mouth, lapping at your own wetly. it's probably disgusting, doesn't feel like it though — you'd swallow his spit happily, whenever he wanted, if it meant he kept making you feel like this.
eddie's shaky hand fumbles for the base of his cock as you continue kissing, positioning himself so that he's nestled prettily between your legs. the kisses turn languid, and he almost sounds pained when he next speaks, "s-sorry. if it, if it hurts."
"let it hurt, i want it to," your demeanor falters a little, turning doe eyed and pleading as eddie slides the ruddy head of his cock up and down the seam of your cunt, flirts with the idea of pushing the tip in just to watch you gasp and keen.
"would never," eddie promises, finally — fucking, finally — pushing the first few inches into the sopping wet heat of your pussy. he cries out when you clench around him unwittingly, and you mumble out a small sorry as you adjust.
it's. not good. it's not bad, either, but fuck. you feel like you're being split from the inside, the thick tip pushing you wider than you anticipated. your fingers grapple for eddie's biceps, nails digging in tightly, "so fucking big, oh my god, you're gonna split me in half."
you're breathless and eddie catches on, panics a little, "you're okay? you're okay, right? i can sto—"
"if you stop, i swear to god," you seethe, looking at eddie with a fierce spark in your eyes, "keep going. fuck. keep going."
before long and with a little bit of resistance, eddie's buried deep inside of you. your bodies roll against one anothers, shallow, slow breaths
it starts slow, the catch and drag of eddie's cock shocking you both into silence. but, before long, your pussy catches up with the programme, gushing wet and allowing eddie to push in further with each thrust.
it's intimate, erotic.
"you're so tight," eddie all-out whimpers, head falling and shoulders shaking as he fucks you at a lazy pace, clearly trying his best to hold out for as long as he can.
"fuck, you’re so gentle,” you try, knees squeezing eddie’s narrow waist, thighs encapsulating him, “you can go quicker. not gonna break me.”
eddie shakes his head, almost like he’s bewildered. looks at you all fucking soft, clearly can’t help the rut of his hips as he buries in deep, biting his inner lips to muffle his noises.
you grasp a hold of eddie's hand with nimble fingers, guide his hand over the softness of your tummy, let him push down where his cock is buried deep inside of you. his whole body shudders, and you can feel where he kicks up.
"practically in my guts," you wheeze, unable to shake the full feeling despite how your pussy gushes for him, so full you swear you feel him in your throat with every deep thrust he can muster, "you're s-so big, eddie."
"oh— jesus, can't do shit like that. can't say shit like that," eddie grunts desperately, rutting into you and gripping for your waist tightly, other hand still pushed down on the pudge of your belly, "gonna make me cum so, so quick."
"can feel every ridge of you, you're splitting me apart," you keen, "i can't— god, you've ruined me f-for anyone else. yours, yours, m'yours."
eddie's forehead slumps against your own, and you're panting into each others mouths more than anything else, lips barely brushing, "mine, you're mine." he agrees, though he sounds pained and submissive as he says it.
your hand snakes around eddie's neck, holding him in place as he fucks you so desperately, so rough you're rattling the stupid bedframe, and you don't think you've ever felt anything like this before. it's all-consuming, the tug between sore and soul-crushingly sensual.
your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, the constant press against your spot causing a quicker build up than you could've anticipated. you both make eye contact as you come with a muted gasp, nails scraping harshly at the soft skin on eddie's neck as you rock it out.
"didn't think you could get any tighter, god," eddie whimpers, eyes squeezing shut, finger-shaped bruises sure to be left on your hips as he fucks you in some sort of reckless abandon, "fuck, i'm so close. i'm so sorry, fuck, fuck."
you nod, understanding, the wet clap of skin on skin deafening as your release allows an even smoother glide. he's fucking ethereal above you, covered in a light sheen of sweat, mouth open in a constant stream of steady moans.
you reach between where both of your bodies meet, where the final few inches don't quite fit, spreading your fingers either side of his cock to allow friction as he fucks in and out rapidly, chasing his high.
eddie looks at you with a wild expression, eyebrows shooting up into his fringe. he grunts like a fucking animal, eyes drifting down to where your hand is, "you— you— i'm cumming, holy fuck—!"
he's loud when he comes, full body wracked with it. you feel his cock pulse and kick inside of you, painting your insides deep. the moan you let out at the feeling is hardly voluntary, so pathetic you flush hot when you realise just how loud you are.
"thank you, thank you," eddie's mumbling against your skin, kissing the side of your neck softly as he comes down, "god, you're perfect. so perfect."
you shudder, overcome with this sappy fucking fond feeling, allowing eddie to collapse on top of you once he's done. it's soft, domestic, even.
you both end up in some sort of gross, body fluid covered cuddle as you calm down. blissed out in the post-orgasmic haze, and fuck.
maybe you're in love with him.
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x you#eddie munson drabble#my fanfic#mine#x reader
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ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)
ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.
Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.
He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.
You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.
The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).
“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”
Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.
“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”
“I wouldn’t say it was evil.”
“No?”
“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”
“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.
You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”
“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.
You shoot him a look. “You know…” you hum vaguely, expectantly.
“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”
“You’re not dumb, Eds.”
“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”
You concede with a small huff. “That… That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.
He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”
“I’ll die,” you deadpan.
“You’re so dramatic.”
His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck.
That’s where he lingers.
Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there.
He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.
His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.
“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.
Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.
“Well, if we’re sharing secrets…” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”
You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed.
You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”
He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.
Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”
“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner…” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”
“So, you want me to be more… dominant?”
He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”
The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”
“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”
“But not all the time, though, right?”
“No. Not all the time. Just… sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”
“Sure…”
Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”
You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just… I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.
Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe… not stopping…”
Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.
“Is that… Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.
“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s… That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”
He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now.
Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.
The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.
“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.
Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”
His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”
Again, you nod.
“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them…”
“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.
Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”
“So… on you?”
“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times — including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just… use me. If you want,” he repeats.
“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.
He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just… wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”
You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.
Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”
“Yeah…” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”
His smile widens. “Exactly.”
“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”
Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy.
“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.
You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually… But I won’t stop.”
“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.
“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”
“Oh, fuck…”
You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.
“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.
Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah… Yeah. Some—Something like that.”
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#stranger things imagine#eddie munson imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things smut#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: fictober!
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𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 — squirting
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: shy!reader (not "innocent" or inexperienced, just a little more reserved). penetrative sex.
Chrissy didn't know what she was doing.
It was an innocent question — as innocent as the questions being raised could be, that night. The conversation had quickly descended into more risqué subjects after Steve had gotten a little too tipsy and started complaining about his lack of luck on his latest escapades.
Nothing out of the ordinary, really. You were all used to talking about sex in one way or another. Eddie was famously loud about it, always having a story to tell, his or otherwise. Stories that made you imagine yourself on the receiving end of, guiltily wanting your friend to do those same things he was describing to you.
You kept those fantasies to yourself, though. Not wanting to be teased by the girls, maybe even worse, have them try to set you up with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if Eddie ever rejected you, or dated you out of pity. There was no scenario where this would work in your mind, no "you and Eddie", just you and your thoughts of him, where he would never hurt you, where all he did was make you feel good, imagining it his hands on your body, roaming until they found that place between your legs, instead of your own.
That night, it was no different. After Steve started the conversation, there was no stopping it. You often listened more than talked — not due to lack of experience, you were just a little too shy to share too much, even among close friends — but when the talk switched to Robin commenting about making her girlfriend squirt, you slipped.
"Good for her."
Your reply may have sounded a little more bitter than you'd anticipated, because, one by one, all of your friends looked at you. Maybe it was the scoff that has left your mouth, maybe it was the alcohol that had loosened your tongue.
"What was that?" Nancy asked, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you.
"Yeah. What was that?" This time, it was Eddie who repeated her question. He sat on the opposite couch with his legs spread, tight black jeans stretching on his lean legs, making you wish you sat between them. You avoided his eyes.
"Nothing. I mean…", you signed, already regretting having said anything, "it's good! Good for her. Robin is good to her, that's a good thing."
You cringed even before you could finish all those convoluted sentences.
"Honey, have you ever… you know," Chrissy asked from her place on the floor, sitting as delicate as a fairy. "squirted?"
"No." You said, simply. Scared to run your mouth even more. "It's not a big deal. Doesn't happen to everybody."
"Have you tried?" Steve asked from behind his beer. He got a myriad of answers ranging from "that's not how It works, dingus!" from Robin, "it's not a matter of trying" from Nancy and "don't ask that, dude" from Eddie.
"I don't even know where to start, Steve. And before anyone asks, yes, I have cum from sex. Just not… like that."
You wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. It was even worse when you could feel Eddie's eyes on you, like he could see right through you. He tilted his head, and you weren't able to handle the kindness in his brown eyes. You looked away.
Your friends' opinions diverged again, making questions and trying to get you to speak, but you couldn't deal with their scrutiny anymore.
"C'mon, guys. It's fine! Can we change the subject, please?" You tried to swerve them. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. Maybe I'm just broken like that."
They shrugged. You shrugged. They moved on — but Eddie's eyes stayed on you for the rest of the night.
You're on Eddie's passenger seat, right in front of your apartment building, later that night when he brings the subject up again.
"I don't think you're broken."
The two of you had spent the entire ride silent, which was odd since Eddie was the chatterbox between the two of you, always filling the gaps with anything that would cross his mind. Neither that, nor his music filled the silence between you.
"What?" You looked at him, still not believing what you'd heard.
"You said that maybe you were broken like that. That's not true, you're… you're perfect."
That feeling of wanting to hide came back tenfold, making your eyes fill with tears. "Eddie, forget about it, please."
"Hey," he brought your gaze back to him with a finger to your chin, delicately turning your head. "I meant what I said. You're perfect, it's just that no one's taken the time to treat you right. It takes patience, from both sides."
"Yeah, and?"
"I was thinking that maybe I could change that. If you'd let me."
One thing you'd always admired about Eddie was his strength of conviction. He never said anything he didn't believe in, and backed it all up. His voice never faltered, he doesn't shy away from speaking his mind — and you hated that you were forcing yourself to disbelieve him.
"Eddie…"
"Look at me." He pleaded, and in spite of your concerns, you did as he told. His eyes bore into your with a sincerity that was so painfully him. "You can say no. I'll go home and we'll forget about everything I just said. But, sweetheart… I'm dying to prove you wrong."
Eventually, he did.
After you'd gotten up the stairs to your floor kissing and tugging at each other's clothes, letting Eddie's tongue taste yours over and over, stopping to let yourself be cornered against the wall by him. Getting lost in the feeling of his solid body against yours, the smell of him — a strong, masculine perfume, cigarettes and beer — making you dizzy, his lips on your neck making you even dizzier.
After he took your clothes off halfway down your living room, reverencing your body with his rough hands, kneeling between your feet in the middle of your halfway. He made you cum for the first time that night with his mouth, kissing your pussy the way he kissed your mouth, sucking on your clit the same way he sucked on your tongue. You came as you pulled his hair, his strong arms around your hips preventing you from falling.
After he guided you to your bed, still craving a taste of you. Hands not knowing where to sit still while he pulled another orgasm from you, his fingers deep within you, curling and stroking your walls, his mouth still not leaving your clit. Your ears buzzed with the force of your climax, not being able to hear Eddie's praise. "That's my girl," he said, head resting on the plush of your thigh, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, "doing such a good job, but I'm not done with you yet."
After he made your eyes blur with pleasure when you finally entered you, rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive bundle of nerves, once, twice, three times before putting it in, slowly bottoming out. Leaving kisses all over your face, shining with sweat. You didn't think you could take it, curling your toes and hugging his narrow hips with your spread legs, feeling each thrust with a tenderness you never did before.
After he filled and stretched you to the brim, pulling out only to push it all in again. Uttering against your skin, broken whimpers, your name on his lips like a prayer. You were beyond the point of forming words, kissing him to stop yourself from screaming. You could feel yourself dripping down your pussy, and into the sheets, soaking Eddie's cock.
After he pulled your thigh higher up his waist, and stood on his knees, pounding into you with measured speed. He hit your spot over, and over, and over — you grabbed the sheets with both hands, repeating his name like a broken record, music to his ears.
"Yeah? That feels good, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Eddie looked like a god above you. Wild hair down to his shoulders, pale skin slick with sweat, eyes drilled on you. You made the mistake of looking down to where your bodies met, watching his thick cock drenched with your juices, going in and out of you. His pubic hair, also matted with your wetness, creating a delicious friction against your clit. "Tell me. Who's making you feel this good?"
"You, Eddie." You whimpered. "You, you, you. Always you."
"That's right, baby. That's" a hard thrust, "fucking," a a squeeze of your thigh, "right."
You felt your orgasm approach with a deep pressure on your navel, building and building until you couldn't keep It down anymore. You let yourself go, the ringing in your ears louder and cleared, cumming with Eddie's name on your lips.
That's when you felt it. You were limp in your bed, with Eddie above you. You'd felt him cum too, dropping his weight above you, but still keeping himself steady by his elbows. but everything was distant, like it was happening in a dream. Slowly, you came back to yourself — to Eddie, gently coaxing you with sweet words, and to the warm wetness coating your thighs, your ass, and Eddie's lower half.
"Did I…?"
"Fuck yeah, you did." His boyish smile, so different from the confident smirk you saw not moments ago, made you smile too, weakly and still a little embarrassed, but too satisfied to care.
"Happy now?"
"Only when you do it again."
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fanfic#kinktober 2023
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Death of Me: Chapter 11 - Awake
Chapter 11 | Series Masterlist
2.1k words
Warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI, pregnancy, reference to broken bones, blood
A small, slightly disappointed huff leaves Eddie's lips,
"I'm telling you, he doesn't like me!"
"And I’m telling you, you're being ridiculous, he's too small for you to feel it when he's kicking." You'd been feeling movements for the last week, and while you were both delighted with this, you could see Eddie was feeling a little left out that he couldn't yet feel anything.
"Nope. Kid hates me already." Eddie jokes, bumping your shoulder with his as he lays beside you, brushing his bangs from his eyes.
“You need to let me trim your hair, it’s gonna get to October and you’re going to be unable to see our newborn because your hair will be obscuring your vision.”
Eddie laughs, “You don’t trust me to trim it myself?”
“Eddie, I've seen what happens when you trim it too short.”
“In my defence I was trying to keep it in line, and then it just kept getting shorter and shorter. That was not my best look huh?” You shake your head with an apologetic smile,
“No I’m afraid that wasn’t the haircut that would have ever won me over.” Eddie pretends to pout,
“What if I’d suggested we start our arrangement with that haircut?”
“Then we wouldn’t be here right now because you know I’d have laughed you right out of the canteen or library or wherever else you decided to proposition me.”
"I’m fairly certain you actually made the first move. Anyway, guess what arrived on Wayne's doorstep today."
"You’re insane. And I’m gonna guess… your secret love child from a tryst with another member of the Hawkins cheer squad?" You gasp in horror, “I thought I was the only one. How could you?”
"Shit how did you guess?" Eddie pulls a face at you and pulls you closer, until your head is resting on his shoulder, lowering his voice until it's barely a whisper, "I got hush money. ‘For my discretion’"
“But you’ve never been discrete a day in your life.” Eddie snorts
“Well I’m not running around town about what happened to me am I?”
"That’s true, maybe I should give you more credit. So, hush money?" Eddie nods, looking down at you with a happy smile,
“There was something else too”
“If you now say a love child you will be getting smacked.” You hover your hand over his arm, ready to drop at any second,
"No, it was a, uh, it was an honorary diploma, no more repeating senior year for me."
"Shit, if only you'd known before that nearly dying in an alternate hellscape dimension would guarantee you a pass I'm sure you'd have done that sooner."
"Well that was my first thought too. Full of regret that I didn’t try that my first senior year." Eddie sarcastically replies, gently flicking your arm. "But the money. It's uh. Enough to pay off my treatments, help Wayne out with some of his debts and we'd still have a good deal left over."
"Jesus, how much did they give you?" Eddie scratches his head, and leans over to his jacket haphazardly thrown over your vanity chair, pulling out an envelope from one of the inner pockets and handing it to you silently. You pull the letter from the envelope and your eyes go wide as you read the figure.
"Shit."
"Yep."
"That's…"
"Enough for a house." You whip your head up to look at Eddie, perched on the end of your bed, grinning at you.
"You sure? You really don’t have to do this.”
"Am I sure it's enough or I am sure I want this?"
"Eddie, you know what I mean."
He nods, "I'm sure, it's not like your parents would be in love with me moving in here, or that Wayne would enjoy another Munson under his roof, last kid he tried to raise turned his hair white." He chuckles and shifts himself on the bed, to be closer, "If this is truly what you want then I am all in."
“Are you sure it won’t be terribly boring for you?”
“Raising a kid in a stable home? Yeah I can’t think of anything worse.” Eddie stares at you pointedly, “C’mon, what are you really worrying about?”
“Just that you’re rushing a lot of things and that you might regret this later on. Maybe that you’re only doing this because my parents are putting pressure on you.” You shrug, picking at a non-existent thread on your sleeve until Eddie takes your hand,
“Okay. It is very rushed and I’m sorry that a lot of this feels too soon, but I really want this. Want to be better than my old man was. If I’m moving too fast, just tell me and I’ll slow down, you know that.”
You nod and let Eddie pull you onto his lap, hugging you as close as he can with a growing bump in the way.
“I want this too, I just worry that you will become bored.”
“Please. Shoot me when I get bored of having the hottest wife in Hawkins, and the cutest kids.” You laugh and waggle your fingers in front of your face,
“You keep calling me your future wife but you still haven’t asked.”
“Working on that.” Eddie kisses your cheek, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
Wayne had been searching his possessions all day, sent on a mission by his nephew that morning, after a long chat in which both men had got misty eyed. He had a growing sense of unease when he struggled to find the box within a few minutes of his search, certain that he would have placed it in one of the obvious safe places in the trailer, the fireproof safe, nope, maybe his cupboard by his bed, nope.. Now that unease grew to full blown dread at telling Eddie that the item may have been lost when they lost their first trailer.
He curses himself for not thinking to ensure that the box was safe when he first moved in, now searching through his kitchen cabinets as though he would have placed such a sentimental object alongside Eddie's old Garfield mug. No luck here. He scans the room, scratching his head, eyes settling on a small trunk tucked behind the sofa,
"You gotta be in there." He yanks the trunk onto the sofa and starts scrambling around, throwing items haphazardly behind him as his fingers brush against the satin of the box.
Gotcha.
Robin and Steve had spent their evening break out of the shop, wanting the fresh air, wandering absently towards the centre of town, eventually coming to a stop at a crevice, both peering down it curiously.
"So this could be the trauma confusion talking but, weren't these all hellfire-y and burning pits like… yesterday?"
Steve nods, the crack before them seemingly to be just that, a crack in the ground. The cracks that up until yesterday had been unfillable by any means the remaining Hawkins residents had tried.
"Does this mean what I think it means? Maybe we did kill Vecna." Robin allows just a hint of optimism for the moment, looking from the crack to Steve.
Steve shakes his head at Robin, "When have we ever known it to be that simple? I don't have a good feeling about this. We need to get the group together, come up with a plan just in case."
Robin nods, “I don’t think anyone is doing anything important tonight…. Shit.” Steve looks up at her abrupt end to her sentence, “Do we ruin the lovebird’s dinner date to tell them?”
“I think we’re going to have to.” Steve laments.
“What if he’s mid-proposal and we burst in like ‘hey sorry guys, cute moment you are having but we think The Thing we don’t want to think about might be happening’. That could be awkward.” Robin laughs nervously.
“Do we know he’s definitely proposing tonight?”
“He’s taking her out for dinner, told us all if we interrupted their date he would hand deliver us to the upside down with a bow tied around us and literally told us he was planning to propose and that it would be soon.”
Steve remembers Eddie’s threat well, “You have a point. Maybe we catch them after? Let's get everyone else together first and then we can swing by the trailer and hope to God we don’t see Eddie’s ass again.”
“I’m not taking that kind of chance Steve, I’ll stay with everyone else. Where are we thinking?”
“My place? Parents are gone again.” Robin nods, feeling a pang at the way Steve looks down at the ground whenever the topic of his parents comes up.
Drool trickles down Lucas' cheek, a soft snore leaving his mouth as he sleeps, folded over on himself with his head resting by Max's hand. The room is quiet, except for the snore and the beeping of monitors.
The group still visited on a daily basis, and no one had given up on Max, but Lucas was the only one who refused to ever leave her side, except for the times where Erica hauled him out of the room to shower at home and to take some time for himself.
Max's bones began to heal a few weeks after she was taken into the hospital. It was slow going, much slower than the doctors would expect but they still healed over time. They weren’t so optimistic about her vision, but then they also weren’t optimistic about her waking up either. Maybe that’s why Lucas awakes with a start when he feels Max’s arm shift, watching her face as a frown contorts her features briefly. That’s new. Without taking his eyes off of her face Lucas scrabbles around in his bag, looking for the walkie to get hold of Eleven and Dustin
They both arrive within 10 minutes, Dustin sweating from his bike ride, Eleven clearly having been given a ride by either Joyce or Hopper.
“Anything changed?”
Lucas shakes his head, “It’s like she’s right there and she just can’t get through to us.”
The three shriek like harpies when Max suddenly gasps, sitting bolt upright in her bed, grabbing out in the air until Lucas’ hand finds hers,
“Max?? It’s me, it’s Lucas. Can you hear me?” Lucas hits the call button as he tries to comfort a now sobbing Max, unable to make any sense of the words between her cries. It takes a while, and a small amount of sedation but eventually Max settles, still not having regained her ability to speak coherently, but awake, aware of the people in the room with her.
Max’s mom arrives within the hour, holding her head to her chest, smoothing over the braids that Erica and Eleven had put into her hair just a day earlier, whispering words of comfort to her. Eventually Max’s mom reaches out for Lucas’ hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze,
“Thank you so much for being here, not letting her wake up alone, making sure her friends were here to comfort her.” Lucas nods, words escaping him for a moment. Then attention swings to Eleven, watching over her friend with unshed tears,
“And you, you have always been such a good friend to my daughter, I know you have been taking care of her more than you should have had to but just know I’ll always be grateful.”
Dustin gives Lucas a wave before he can get a mini speech and backs out of the room, not wanting to intrude on the moment, and also dying to tell everyone that Max is awake.
The van ride from dinner to drop you back to your parent’s house is deemed the perfect time by Eddie to start suggesting baby names once more.
“Eddie, we are not naming our child Sabbath. That is a cat name, not a kid name.” You wanted Eddie to have input into names, but so far you were unimpressed with his suggestions, there was one you were quietly considering but you wanted to wait a while, see if you both still liked the name in a few weeks.
“Okay fine, we’re getting a cat too then.” Eddie chuckles, rubbing your thigh as he drives,
“A cat and a baby? Damn, I really domesticated you huh?”
“Nope. Still feral.” To prove his point he grabs your hand and sinks his teeth in, obviously not hard enough to leave any lasting marks, but enough to make you laugh at the faint imprint of his teeth in your hand.
“Ugh,” You look up from your hand over at Eddie who’s winching slightly, pinching his fingers to the bridge of his nose as frown crosses his features,
“Everything okay, handsome?”
“Yeah, just a little headache, nothing to worry about.” He smiles over at you and his face has you reaching for the tissues in your purse,
“Pull over. Your nose is bleeding.”
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌.
virgin eddie munson x experienced fem reader
summary: you go into the boys locker room with a plan to steal the polaroids your now ex boyfriend took of you to show off to his friends, but the last thing you suspected was to be met with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and his very big friend.
warnings: smut ahead, 18+ minors dni, no use of y/n (use of pet names), non consensual sharing of nudes, reader technically cheats, big dick eddie, slight fingering, oral (m receiving) unprotected p in v, cream pie, fluffff.
authors note: I feel like I haven’t written a one shot in awhile, so…hope you like. As always thank you to my lovely beta’s @take-everything-you-can & @xxhellfiregirlxx <3
wc: 3.4k
You are fuming, absolutely seething with rage.
You couldn't believe your boyfriend, scratch that ex boyfriend would do this to you. How could someone swear to be ‘so in love’ with you but turn around and do this? It just didn’t make sense, but you only have yourself to blame.
All of your friends warned you about Andy, said he was a pig and would just use you as another notch for his belt, but you wanted to believe you were different or that maybe you could’ve changed him. Instead you allowed him to take very x-rated polaroids of you, that he in turn showed to all of his basketball buddies, who told their cheerleader girlfriends, who then told you he’d spent all of gym bragging and showing them off in the locker room.
So…you’d devised a very impulsive and hell bent plan; while they were all outside running the annual mile, you decided you would sneak into the locker room, find Andy's locker, then you would break into it and steal the polaroids back. It was a fool proof plan… or so it seemed in your frenzy of rage.
But as you walk into the quiet, cold, sterile room filled with green lockers. You quickly realize you're not alone.
“Oh my god!”
“Oh fuck!”
Was said in unison as you and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson locked eyes, but they didn't stay connected for long as yours roamed his body, all the way down to the biggest cock you had ever seen in your life. Not that you’ve seen so many, but you’ve had your fair share of hook ups and I mean c’mon you're not a prude, you do watch porn.
But, even so… his cock was still bigger than anything you’ve come in contact with, albeit on screen and off.
“I’m so sorr–”
“What are you do-”
You both say again, voices overlapping as Eddie catches the wide eyed stare you're giving his flaccid manhood.
He quickly covers himself with his hands, his cheeks pinkening in embarrassment.
Eddie was rather dense when it came to his size, considering he was a virgin and he’s been using the locker room while it was empty since he started at Hawkins High, not wanting to give the jocks anymore fuel for their relentless fire. He didn’t have much to compare it to, nor did he want to participate in any dick measuring contests. The only porn he had hidden under his bed were his dirty fantasy magazines but all the dicks in there were monster cocks, literally.
“What are you doing in here?” Eddie huffed in annoyance as your eyes continued to burn a hole into his now covered groin.
“I um, I–” You couldn't even find the words to explain why you were in the boy’s locker room, not one that would make any sense to him, anyway.
“You what, huh? Spit it out.” Eddie didn’t mean to snap at you, but he was already in a foul mood. He had been present when Andy was showing off your goods to his ogling friends, who all agreed he was a ‘lucky guy’.
Eddie patiently waited for them all to retreat out and onto the track so he could finally shower and get dressed back into his all black attire. Eddie, oh lovesick Eddie had been nursing a mammoth sized crush on you since your freshman year. So, to say he couldn't help but roll his eyes and clench his fists at not only the thought of all these other dudes getting to see you, but also the fact that you even picked a shit stain like Andy Clayton to give an ounce of your time to, really pissed him off.
“I came to try and get something back from my ex.” You bashfully murmur as your eyes once again find the metalheads.
A remorseful look passes over Eddie's face at your revelation, as you both continue to stare at each other you quickly notice his wet hair has been dripping down onto his tattooed chest, the scene makes your breath hitch and you want so badly to clench your thighs from the heat that's been ignited in your center.
Eddie’s confidence begins to grow as he notices the flush of your cheeks and the way your breathing went ragged as your eyes wandered.
“Ya’ know, if i didn't know any better i'd say you’re checking me out?” He declares with a cocky smirk.
“What? I-I’m not-” You stutter before shutting your eyes tight, as if it’d shield you of your utter humiliation. You quickly exhale in an attempt to rid yourself of the mix of arousal and embarrassment that has simultaneously filled your body.
“Okay, I was… but I didn’t mean to, I'm sorry.” You whisper as your eyes meander the tiles under your black loafers and white slouch socks.
“You didn't mean to check out my dick?” Eddie says in bewilderment as his brows raise, disappearing behind his shaggy, wet bangs.
He’s surprised he has the confidence to stand so close to you with his dick literally in his hand, but watching you stutter and squirm has got to be the highlight of his whole high school career.
Well this and that time he, Gareth and Jeff left that flaming bag of shit on Mr. Higgins doorstep. Yeah, watching that old fuck struggle to put out a burning bag filled with dog shit was definitely up there.
“I mean, I did mean to, it’s just– nevermind, I'm sorry. I’ll leave.” Your words fly out of your mouth before you begin to turn and leave, back out the way you came without fulfilling the mission you were on just five minutes ago.
You didn’t even make it two steps before Eddie was gently grabbing your bicep, his hands no longer covering his cock that now grows hard between his scrawny thighs.
“It’s just what?…Color me curious sweetheart.” He says as his calloused fingers slowly run down your arm and back to his side.
Sweetheart, you liked hearing him call you that. Jesus, what is happening?
“Well um, your dicks like really big.” You say as your eyes fall back to his package, you lick your lips at the sight of it twitching at your words.
“Really?” The way he questions you is confusing because there is absolutely no way he doesn’t know he’s hung like a goddamn horse.
“You’re joking right? You’re gonna act like you don’t know your cock is massive?” You say with a tilt of your head.
His eyebrows shoot back up in amusement, the cocky smile on his face a complete rival to his rapidly beating heart.
You move closer into his space, looking up into his innocent looking doe eyes.
Eddie Munson is anything but innocent, right? I mean he sells drugs for fuck sake! You’ve even heard about him grabbing a cheerleader's tit during a drug deal, of course she was trying to get him to lower the price, but still…well now that you come to think of it, that's really the only sexual thing you’ve heard about him. There’s no way he could be a… yeah right.
“Can I ask you a question?” You whisper as you move in even closer, moving a now damp, stray strand of hair behind his reddening ear.
“S-sure.” He whimpers when your long nails lightly scratch down his jaw, which he quickly covers with a cough.
You bit at your lips trying to hold back a giggle at the noise that went straight between your legs.
Okay, fuck those pictures! What better way to get over a guy than to get under a new one…right? Especially one your ex hates…who has a huge cock…I mean this shits a no brainer… you’re gonna fuck Eddie Munson.
“Are you a virgin?” You question sweetly as you ‘innocently’ play with the hem of your plaid dress, the white turtleneck underneath making your already hot and bothered body, burn more with the intense electricity radiating between the both of you.
“I uh, how’d you know?” He sighs as his shoulders drop in exasperation, not at you but at himself for being so fucking obvious.
“Well, with that third leg I never would’ve guessed…but you have this innocence in your eyes that’s kinda telling.” You giggle as your eyes meet his still hard cock, and all you wanna do now is wrap your hand around it and watch him lose his mind.
Eddie throws his head back and laughs into the open air of the now humid locker room. He whispers third leg to himself, nodding his head as if he was hearing that term for the first time. He was.
“Do you wanna stay a virgin, Eddie?” You whisper as the tips of your fingers gently trail over the patch of hair on his lower stomach, just above the spot your hand is aching to touch, that he’s aching for you to touch.
Two things in this moment make the metalhead equally lose his mind, he might actually cum untouched if he’s being honest. Your hand is so close to his throbbing cock, just a few centimeters down and you’d be brushing against his pink, sensitive tip. And hearing you say his name. Wait, you know his name.
That alone is an aphrodisiac for him.
“No, I-I don’t.” He admits before swallowing hard, his damp Adam's apple bobbing at the motion.
“Can I kiss you?” He surprises himself as the question leaves his mouth.
“Please.” you whine with desperation, making Eddie groan as his lips find yours in a frenzy.
Your fingers slowly trail down, finally wrapping your dainty hand around the sheer girth and length that is Eddie’s cock.
Another whimper falls from between his pretty lips, but this time it's unashamed and without a cough to cover it up. No, he wants you to hear what you’re doing to him.
“That feel good, baby?” You murmur into his mouth between the smacks that echo off the barren walls.
“Fuck, yeah mhm, it does.” He rushes out awkwardly, making you giggle into the kiss.
He wraps his arms around you, in an air of confidence and pulls you in closer, chests now flush as your hand continues to softly tug at his cock.
“Do you wanna fuck me, Eddie?” You whisper as you lean your forehead against his, wet bangs be damned.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you for a very long time, princess.” He admits without much thought.
You break away from him, eyes boring into his as you take in his confession. You step back and Eddie’s heart shatters as he curses himself for opening his big, stupid mouth and scaring you off. But before he could get down on his knees and grovel for you to just ignore him and stay, keep paying attention to him. You take his hand and lead him to the wooden bench towards the back of the locker room.
He follows you like a lost puppy before you’re gently pushing at his chest, a silent instruction for him to sit down. He quickly takes the hint, clumsily plopping down onto the stiff wooden bench.
He looks to you for direction, those innocent eyes blinking up at you and goddammit if it doesn't chip away at the walls your now ex boyfriend has helped you build. But, that's a thought for another day.
You fall to your knees, cold tiles digging into your skin as you wrap your hand back around his cock in a wildness that you’d never felt for any of your previous partners.
“Holy shit.” Eddie spits out in disbelief. This has to be a wet dream, there's absolutely now way this is happening to him…he’s never this lucky, and in typical eddie cynicism, he looks around to make sure no one is filming or waiting to pop out and laugh at him or better yet, to tell him this was all some elaborate prank, get the freak all riled up just to leave him high and dry.
The thought is quickly extinguished when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, gently sucking before you're removing your soft, pillowy muscles that are now coated in his precum, you alluringly flick your tongue across them gathering it all, just to get a good taste of him. His soul just about leaves his body and you've barely even started.
You take him back into your mouth, but this time without mercy as you relax your throat, slowly moving down inch by delicious inch as you try not to gag, his tip now bullying your uvula like his own personal punching bag.
“Oh, oh fuck, please. I-I…” He stammers as his hands flex and clench beside him, too afraid to run his fingers through your hair like he so badly wants to.
You fuck his aching cock into your throat, bobbing your head up and down, over and over before you’re popping off of him, placing a sweet kiss to his tip then standing back up onto your feet, your knees burning from the pressure that was placed on them, red indents now take their place leaving very little mystery as to what you’ve just done.
“I need your cock so bad Eddie.” You moan into his mouth before kissing him, it’s deep and needy and you never want to kiss anyone else like this for as long as you live.
“Use me, please. J-just fuck, just use me pretty girl.” Eddie whimpers, before he begins attacking your neck, sucking hard before soothing the skin with his tongue. You couldn’t care less if he leaves marks, in fact you want him to mark you up, make you his.
You thread your hand into his still damp hair, pushing him closer as he begins to suck at a particularly sensitive spot, just below your ear.
Eddie places one last tender kiss there, before he removes his face from your neck. He confidently lifts the hem of your dress up and over the tops of your thighs, exposing your slick soaked, red panties. The metalhead swipes a finger over the thin, lace fabric that clings to your hips.
“Can I take these off?” He asks as his eyes continue to bore into the growing wet patch in the center of your covered slit.
“Mhm.” A high pitch whine escapes from the depths of your throat at how harshly he tore them off from between your legs. Needy boy.
“Fuckin’ aye.” Eddie murmurs to himself at the sight of your glistening cunt right in front of him, so pretty and wet just for him. He wanted to run his fingers through the damp, trimmed coils on your mound but quickly decided against it, he didn’t want you thinking that was weird.
“H-have you ever seen a pussy before?” You chirp up, bashful as you grab his hand and move it towards your soaked slit.
He clears his throat before answering- “just in magazines.” He admits as his cheeks tinge a pretty shade of pink.
He’s embarrassed by his revelation, but you can’t help but think that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.
You work his fingers through your slit, rubbing at your own clit with his hand and it all just fuels that fire growing deep in your belly.
“Oh!” You moan as your eyes gently roll back, you swipe his finger through your wetness again, “you feel that? Feel how wet you make me Ed’s?” You whisper as your eyes now hold his.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful! I-I need to fuck you or im gonna cum. You can’t just talk to me like that, princess.” He mutters as he loses all resolve, not that he had much to begin with.
“Yes, sir.” You whisper into his ear before you’re placing a gentle kiss there. You turn around, hand grabbing onto his still hard cock, you lower yourself into his lap, pink tip already prodding at your hole as your back becomes flush with his chest, you lay your head back against his shoulder and burrow it into his neck, both of you moaning in unison as you sink onto him, slowly.
He’s so big it’s like he's ripping you in half, but you welcome the burn. The pleasure and pain of it all makes your cunt drip even more, further creating less pain and a whole lot more pleasure.
“Mmf.” Eddie moans into the side of your face, as you’re finally seated flush in his lap, cock buried deep inside your aching pussy, you clench around the intrusion, making Eddie gasp and whine.
You smile back at him before you’re doing it again.
“Fuck, do you want this to be over before it starts? Huh?” He says threw his teeth, as he grabs your chin to reprimand you. And you want nothing more than to play further into that dynamic.
Andy was a shit lay compared to this, Eddie Munson a virgin is fucking you better than your ex, and if that doesn’t speak volumes as to how the relationship was. The thought makes you feel stupid.
Before you can fester anymore on your dumb mistake, Eddie begins to fuck up into you, all his patience seeping through the air vents that you now realize are on and blowing, creating a chill throughout the room and goosebumps to trickle over your body.
His big hands grab at your waist, roughly bouncing you up and down on his cock as he follows the same rhythm. You’re both moaning into each other's mouths as you bring your hand to the nape of his neck and holding on, as you get absolutely railed in the boys locker room.
Not only is the location turning you on but the thought of being caught by anyone, especially Andy, has got your cunt dripping and making a mess of the metalheads balls.
“Shit, you’re so wet and warm and so fucking tight, baby.” Eddie huffs as his words begin to spill out with no filter, theres no fucking way he can think about what he’s saying before he says it with you clenching around him like that.
“I remember the first time I fucked my fist thinking about you; you wore that little jean skirt with those fucking red cowboy boots a-and the tightest little white shirt, I could see your nipples perfectly. Didn't even bother to wear a bra, just wanted everyone to see, didnt you? Mmm, bad girl.” He starts his confession out whiney and whimpering until he gets to the bad girl with a growl and an extra hard snap of his hips that make your eyes cross in complete carnal delight.
“That’s so fu-ucking hot that you think about me when you jack off, fuck.” You stutter as your body continues to be used as Eddie’s personal little fuck toy.
“Yeah? But I don’t have to do that anymore do I? You’re gonna let me fuck this tight little cunt whenever I want, aren’t you baby?” The confident rasp in his voice is a complete 360 to the awkward, innocent boy he was just seconds ago. But, the way your pussy tightens around him tells him you fucking love it, so he files that information away for next time.
“Yes, yes whenever you want Eddie!” You wail as your legs begin to shake, your cunt clenching around him as your nails dig into his thighs that continue to slap up into the backs of yours. The sounds were filthy, but they egged you both on as your highs so quickly approached.
“Ed- I’m cumming, oh my god!” You sob, fully convinced someone has had to have heard you both by now. But you don’t care, how could you when the most intense pleasure was coursing through your body, turning you into a twitching mess.
“Fuck, me too baby, wher-” He doesnt even get to finish, before you’re begging him to cum inside you. Of course he obliges, eyes rolling back into his head and cock throbbing as his heavy load shoots deep inside you.
“Goddammit.” He whispers into your neck after you've both come down from your panting highs. The breath he exhales tickles you, making you giggle. His arms wrap around your front, holding you tightly before burrowing his head deeper into the skin between your jaw and clavicle, he blows a raspberry and you can't help the shriek that leaves your mouth as he continues to tease you.
“So, you want help getting those pictures back?”
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x y/n#eddie x you#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fan fiction#virgin eddie munson
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Soft Touches
Description: you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.
Warnings: acquaintances to lovers, reader is AFAB, weed smoking (both parties so no real dub con), fem oral receiving, praise kink, p in v unprotected sex.
A/N: It's my birthday! And I'm high, and horny, so happy birthday! If you've read my work you KNOW I'm a sucker for the first time y/n fucks Eddie. When I'm a benevolent dictator it shall be a universal holiday ;)
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“Eddie, what the hell was in that?”
Floating in a cloud of your high, the entire room seemed to glow in pink and orange, senses tinged in a sunset glow. You were definitely stoned out of your tree if you were comparing Eddie's stuffy, cramped room to a breath-taking sunset.
“It's a new strain I got from Rick. You feeling it?”
“Oh, I'm feeling it alright. I can hear colours.”
Eddie's rich laugh echoed off the walls of his trailer. He laid on the bed casually, one arm slung beneath his head making his tight t-shirt ride up slightly. Just a peek of his happy trail was on display, which you tried, and failed, not to stare at.
It was proving difficult, especially since you sat criss-cross apple sauce on his floor. His body was eye level, handcuff belt shining softly in the low light. The glint of that drew your eyes even lower, concentrating on the bulge you could see in his jeans.
You thought you were being sneaky. You absolutely were not.
“Hey, sweetheart, you gonna answer me or just stare at my dick?”
“Huh?”
Shaking your head as if to clear it, you finally met his gaze.
“I said, you can come lay up here if you want.”
Halfway between getting up and still in a weird little crouch his words finally filtered through your addled brain.
“I wasn't staring at your dick!”
“Whatever you say, baby girl.”
Frozen, mind empty of comebacks, you clambered out of your goblin stance and stood up, when the blood decided to rush to your head.
“Oh Holy shit.”
Your knees buckled, and you would have ended up face first on Eddie's carpet if he hadn't caught you.
“Easy there, I've got you.”
Eddie's firm hands held your upper arms tightly as he manoeuvred you to sit on his bed. The room was spinning, everything was drifting out of focus.
“I need to lie down.”
Eddie pulled you towards his pillows and laid you down gently, picking your legs up and settling them on the bed with you. Staring up at his off white ceiling, things began to drift back in. Once the room finally stopped swooping around in your vision, you started to come to your senses.
You are on Eddie Munson's bed. You knew him, sure, only in a ‘can I come round so you can smoke us out and listen to music’ kind of way. You'd hardly call him a friend. This though, feeling the heat of his body next to you, him leaning on his side staring at you worriedly seemed entirely outside of your current arrangement.
Suddenly the air was stifling, Eddie's warmth only exacerbating the matter.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, just really warm. And fucking high.”
Eddie laughed, relieved.
“Thank fuck, I was scared for a minute.”
You fumbled at the hem of your oversized sweater, attempting to wriggle it up your body but all motor skills were beyond you right now.
“Eddie.” You pouted at him, flapping the edge of your sweater with frustrated hands.
“You want this off?”
“Please.”
He flashed you a mischievous grin and pulled up upright, beginning to draw the offensive sweater up and over your form.
“Didn't think you'd be begging me to undress you sweetheart.”
Rolling your eyes in response, you held your arms over your head like a petulant toddler. Sweater removed and tossed to the foot of the bed, you risked a glance at Eddie. He was entirely preoccupied, staring at your bare midriff that was now on display.
“It's a crop top Eddie, get over it.”
Flinging yourself back down on the pillow, Eddie coughed, looking a little flustered, and settled in next to you.
“Sorry, I didn't expect it. You always wear baggy shit.”
“Comfortable shit, thank you. I come here to smoke, it's not New York fashion week.”
Eddie ran a finger across you, just below your belly button. The barely there touch blazed across your skin.
“I didn't know you had your belly button pierced.”
Looking down, you watch as his fingers circle it, then flick the little jewel dangling off the end. Thighs clamping together out of sheer necessity, you attempt to ignore it.
“Yeah, got it done when I was like 15, two towns over. Probably my least painful piercing. Apart from ears, of course.”
Apparently, Rick's new strain also makes you run your mouth, as well as being insanely warm and horny. It seemed you had captured Eddie's attention. He turned further towards you, one hand holding his head up. The other, much to your relief, stayed on your stomach. You're not sure he was even aware he was still stroking your skin.
“Least painful? What other piercings do you have?”
You seriously considered dodging the question, but it's difficult to be devious directly to those big wet eyes of his. It's like trying to lie to a baby cow.
“Well, I got my nose done, but the piercing fell out and I didn't bother to get a new one. That one stung. But the worst had to be my… my nipples.”
The whole bed lurched as Eddie jumped up and sat cross legged facing you. He practically flew into action, grabbing his cigarettes and a lighter as if you were about to tell him some epic tale.
“Right, tell me everything.”
Whilst laughing at his wide eyed expression, you realise he's being completely serious.
“Well, they er, they like, sanitise the… area, draw a dot where they're going to pierce you and tell you to take a deep breath in and it's done. It's super quick actually. It's more the after part that hurts. Why are you interested?”
Eddie pushes his hair behind one ear, the tip of it is glowing scarlet, you notice.
“I was thinking about getting it done my last birthday but I didn't have the cash.”
He's staring at you, nervously chewing on a hang nail. You can practically see the unasked question dancing on his tongue. You weren't going to offer, hell no. If he wants to see he has to ask. The thing is, the way your tummy is bubbling right now, you don't think you could say no to those eyes of his.
The question remains unsaid. He merely offers you a drag on his cigarette which you take gratefully, before he's stubbing it out and laying back down next to you.
“How you feeling now? Bit less baked?”
“Oh I'm still fucked, but I can see straight and I don't feel sick.”
His fingers begin their dance again, skating over your exposed flesh, stroking down your side to your hip, across your stomach, and back again. You want to mention it. He's never touched you like this before, but you also don't want him to stop.
“Good. Not inviting you over again if you hurl on my bed.”
Giggling, you turn and face him. You're both on your sides now, knees close to knocking. His shirts ridden up again and before you can even register what you're doing you've placed a delicate hand on his hip. His eyes widened briefly, but that's it. Both of you are touching the others bare flesh, whispers of touches. Little, tentative things, like the bursting of soap bubbles on skin.
“I wouldn't hurl on your bed. I'm sure I'd at least make it to the bathroom. I'm not an animal.”
Eddie just grins in response, and you look at each other, really look. His dopey smile is the same as yours, and it seems neither of you want to mention how this seems to be rolling into very unfamiliar territory.
“Eddie?”
“Hmm?”
“Why are you touching me?”
He pushes infinitesimally closer, his knee now slotting between yours. It's a small gesture, but suddenly the situation feels even more intimate than before.
“Because. Because it feels good. You're soft, and warm. And you keep making little noises.”
“I do?”
He smooths his hand higher, thumb dragging along the underside of your breast, and you let out a tiny, quivering whimper.
“See? Like that.”
Opening your legs slightly wider, Eddie's knee pushes naturally further forward, his thigh now wedged between yours. His breath is fanning your nose; cigarettes, weed, and sweet snacks.
“So sweetheart, why are you touching me?”
Your hand presses a little more firmly, snaking underneath the hem of his shirt. With no complaint forthcoming, you reach further up, stroking his side, up over his ribs, and back down again. He responds in kind. Every kiss of fingers is electrifying, filling the room with a soft, dense tension.
“Because it feels good. Because I saw a bit of skin and I couldn't resist.”
“Yeah?” He's smirking as he says it, but you're beyond playing games at this point.
“Yeah.”
“I didn't know I was irresistible.”
You pinch his skin a little and he stares at you like you just betrayed him.
“I didn't say that, you're twisting my words.”
“Pretty sure I heard-”
Cutting him off with a tickle to the ribs, he grabs your hand to stop you.
“OK, OK! You were right, I was wrong. Nice touches again please.”
His hand swiftly makes its way back to your skin and you continue to stroke him.
“Nice touches?”
“Yeah, it feels really good.”
Running your hand up, you graze his nipple, and then bring it back down, down, until you reach the top of his jeans. You graze a finger, just one, under them, sweeping across his tensing abs. Then, you move up to more innocent flesh.
“Jesus Christ.”
Eddie's chest is heaving, fingers pressing indents into your flesh.
“Nice enough?” you're the one smirking this time, pleased at the effect you're having on him.
“Yeah.”
It's barely a word, more of a breath. You scoot closer toward him, just a couple of inches, but it's close enough to feel his thigh start to press against your heat. Gasping at the pressure, you rub subtly against his thigh to try and relieve your mounting feelings, no matter how slightly.
Eddie's hand starts making a trembling journey up your form, fingers twisting underneath your top. Feeling the underside of your bare breast, you both gasp. Eddie undoubtedly because you weren't wearing a bra, you because, well, the obvious. The slightest graze had your nipple hardening instantly, hips rocking forward without your control.
“Is this OK?”
“Yeah. Please.”
Fingers stretching further, Eddie finally brushes your nipple. The feeling is magnified by your piercing; they've felt more sensitive since you got them done.
The moan that escapes is louder than you meant but it couldn't be helped. This simple touch is igniting through your nerves and rushing to your high brain.
“Shit, they are pierced.”
It seems to be a thought that Eddie said out loud by accident as he rubs his fingers over your ruddy nipple, slowly circling the silver balls of the jewellery.
Another moan breaks from you, even louder this time.
“Fuuuuck Eddie.”
“Yeah?”
His touches become firmer, rubbing your nipple between thumb and forefinger, mapping the way your face scrunches up with his eyes.
“Yeah, jeez. They're really sensitive.”
Practically panting in each other's mouths, your noses rub together.
“Can- can I kiss you?”
His words are so hesitant that it makes you giggle. Pressing your lips in a swift kiss to his full bottom lip, you respond.
“I'd be mad if you didn't.”
Eddie wastes no more time, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to you that you reciprocate in kind. You keep it slow, leisurely traversing new territory with soft, exploring tongues. Naturally your arms encircle him, pulling him closer, closer. His arm snakes around your back as your bodies press together, like puzzle pieces slotting together and finding their perfect match. Eventually you break away to take a gasping breath as Eddie presses kisses to your collarbone.
“I don't know why we waited so long to do that.”
“We? I thought you just wanted me for free drugs!”
You giggled loudly at that, so loud it came out as a snort, but it didn't matter. The moment was so honest that being cool had nothing to do with it. You were bare, in a way, and so was he.
Eddie chuckled with you as he slowly but surely pushed you onto your back, slipping both of his legs between yours. Pushing your hips up, you feel his hardness graze your pubic bone.
“Eddie?”
He hums a response, lips and tongue busy loving on your neck. You tug at the hem of your top and pull upwards. Eddie gets the message, moving out of the way briefly so you can strip it off.
There you are, bare chested in front of him. You'd be nervous, if you hadn't seen the longing in his eyes. He's kneeling, one arm leaning on the mattress whilst the other compulsively strokes your side.
“Jesus Christ your tits are perfect.”
The moment stretches just a little too long for comfort; you're a hair's breadth away from crossing your arms over your chest when Eddie leans down and runs his tongue around and around one nipple. Mewling pathetically, you lace your fingers in Eddie's soft waves and tug. In response his teeth graze you as he sucks softly; then he gives the other just as much attention.
Shuddering and wriggling under him, you can't do anything but whine, your hips undulating upwards to chase some friction, some release, anything.
“Eddie, please, I need you.”
“Umph,” He responds, muffled by your chest, “I need you to say that again.”
“Eddie I swear to God if you don't- ”
He laughs, cutting off your sentence.
“Alright baby girl, I got you.”
Working his way down your front, he takes his time planting soft kisses, making you writhe at each touch of his lips, until he reaches your shorts.
Flicking the button open, he slowly drags the zip down and finds the little sliver of red panties poking out.
“Hearts? Cute.”
Thick fingers plunge into your clothes and pull them away, flinging your shorts and panties across the room into the void that was Eddie's carpet.
Insecurity finally gripped its claws into you. What if he didn't like what you looked like down there, smelled like, tasted like?
A moment of unadulterated panic, and then Eddie licked his tongue, slowly yet firmly, between your lips and all the way up. Barging your thighs further apart with his shoulders, he rooted your clit out with his tongue, running dizzying circles and sucking at it desperately.
Eddie's moans rivalled your own, such neediness etched in you swear his fingerprints will be left on the outside of your thighs like tattoos, simply from the force he held you with. Barely able to shake, you compensated by pulling his hair and guiding his tongue exactly where you needed it.
He pushed a thick calloused finger into you slowly, looking up at you as he did so. You back arched off the bed. He felt around, staring at you with such intensity you that you were seconds away from telling him to quit staring when-
“Oh God, oh fuck!”
Eddie smirked, sliding another finger in gently to join the first, and worked your clit between his lips. He incessantly stroked a spot inside that you'd never reach on your own, a firm, beckoning gesture as if he were willing your orgasm to come hither.
It was working. Your insides tingle, a tightness pulling straight from your gut and shooting out to your fingers and toes. Beyond control by this point, your hand pulls his hair tightly. To your amazement, his other hand reaches out to you, seeking, and you lace your fingers in his own.
As soon as your digits touched, you were gone. Your release plummets out of you, shaking through every bone you have, leaving you a twitching puddle of a woman. His fingers chase after it, dragging every inch of squelching pleasure out of your insides until you're tugging him away and begging for it to stop.
As he moved back up your body, licking and sucking as he did so, you tried to think of an answer to the smug grin he was just about to flash at you.
There was none. Brain unravelled, threads wound into your nerves instead of your thoughts, you laid there, ruminating on how he'd made you come faster than any other man.
Eddie hovered over you, nose nudging your own. He must have wiped his mouth at some point whilst you were in la la land.
“Hey pretty girl.”
“Eddie, you're really fuckin’ good at that.”
“I know.”
You laugh, tapping his side.
“Cocky.”
“Confident.”
Before you can retort his mouth is back on you, peppering kisses to your jaw, as his solid member presses into your naked heat.
“Fuck Eddie, please, please please-”
“Please what baby girl?” He asks, then sucks a hickey on your neck.
Pulling him towards you by his shirt collar, you bite down sharply on his earlobe, pulling a little groan from his chest.
“I want you to stuff me full Eddie. I'm- I'm on birth control. Fill me up.”
You can practically feel Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Fuck, you can't just say that, I nearly busted in my pants!”
Pulling himself off you for the shortest time he could, he peels his t-shirt over his head and flops back on top of you. Desperate kisses and urgent gropes spill from you both; grinding, needy things that tore at clothes and grasped at flesh.
After fiddling and failing with his belt, you huff and tug harshly at his waistband. He chuckles, biting at your bottom lip as he unlatches it with ease and then wriggles his pants and boxers down his legs with urgency.
More desperate grasps, teeth and tongues clashing violently, your hand reaching down to clutch at his-
“Holy hell!”
His eyes widen, hands coming to a halt, waiting for the rest of your sentence. You're too busy trying to glance down his front as he hovers over you, your fist firmly stroking his hardened cock.
“You're huge Eddie!”
He smirks and thrusts into your hand, the velvet smoothness of his dick massaged by your palm.
“Bet you say that to all the guys.”
“Er, no, Rick's made some truth serum or some shit because that's the biggest I've ever felt.”
You guide him firmly towards your entrance, dragging the tip of his enlarged cock through your slickened folds. He quivers over you, arms thick with tension.
“Baby girl just, just slip it inside, please-”
“Now who's begging?”
Grinning mischievously, you wait for him to start forming an answer with his mouth when you slip the head inside your sopping opening. His open mouth turns into a long drawn out moan.
You would tease him if the feeling of him splitting you open wasn't all consuming. Which it fucking is. He just keeps pushing, and pushing, until his chest is flush with yours and he's mumbling platitudes in your ear.
“Doing so good for me. Such a naughty, naughty girl. Getting filled up by her drug dealer? Baby girls a little dirty, isn't she?”
You're trying not to let him know how much his words affect you, but the fluttering of your satin like walls tells a different story.
“You're not my dealer.”
“Oh really? I'm not?”
Pulling out nearly all the way and pushing back in, you bite your lip at the drag against your insides.
“Dealer implies I buy shit. You just give it to me, like a little simp.”
Eddie's mouth drops open in mock outrage.
“You want me to give it to you now? I'll fucking give it to you baby.”
Hooking an arm under your thigh, Eddie thrusts into you hard and devastatingly deep. And again, and again, until you start moaning wantonly right in his face, all bravado forgotten.
“Yeah? Atta girl. That good baby? Wanna feel me right here?”
His other hand pushes against your lower stomach, the pressure deepening the pleasure he's giving you tenfold.
“Oh Eddie, oh fuckfuckfuck!!”
Your release explodes out of your cunt with a gush, liquid spurting out of you so hard you nearly force his impressive length out. It waves drastically, like the sea against the shore, washing and washing over you until it's hard to breathe.
“Baby, baby! Holy shit, I think you squirted.”
“Ya think? My God, that was… mind blowing.”
“Yeah?”
Looking up at him, you expect that arrogant grin, but he just looks pleased and innocent. Like a kid at Christmas.
“Yeah, fuck yeah.”
Rolling him over with all the power left in your thighs, you pin him down and move firmly into him, ferality taking over your actions.
“Jesus Christ, you are a dirty girl, aren't you?”
“Maybe just a little.”
Smirking, you hump against him, your swollen clit bumping against his pubic bone on each delicious pass.
“Holy shit, I'm not complaining- fuck, what the- what are you doing? Jesus Christ!”
You bounce hard on him. Seeing him writhe under you is a special kind of power, one you aren't willing to let go of. Ever.
“Fuck, b-baby girl, you're gonna make me come!”
His intense moans spur you on further. Unable to bounce so much on shaky knees you snuggle down close to him, arms clutching his shoulders, as you grind into him. It's massaging sensations into your clit, as well as teasing your g spot with his imposing length.
“I can't, I’m- baby girl-”
“I'm gonna come, Eddie please, fill me up, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel your cum inside me, please, fuckin’ breed me Eddie. Oh fuck!”
Quivering against him uncontrollably, your legs give out, collapsing on his body as he tenses and releases inside of you. It spurs your own orgasm, snaking up your spine and gripping on your system like a fly caught in honey. An open mouthed scream is all you give him, silent but chock full of feeling, as your back arches in its own tension.
As it curls out of you, your back gives up, and you flop forward, bones turned to pudding.
“Well.” is all that comes out, a puff of a word, just air escaping from a collapsing chest.
“Well.” Eddie responds, waiting for what you're about to say.
You're sure he doesn't expect it. A laugh bubbles out; a weird, inside laugh, that you probably should never share with anyone. But it keeps coming. And coming. Laughing uncontrollably, you roll off of him and try to get your stomach muscles in check.
You'd be worried about his reaction, if he wasn't laughing with you. It was this odd mixture of tension and relief that was bursting in the air, a barrier broken and left crumbling at your feet.
“Eddie. Fuck, Eddie.”
“Yeah?”
‘Yeah.”
His heated hand found yours, and squeezed your fingers hard. For some reason, it felt more intimate than all of this combined.
Giggling again, you lean into his chest, fingers dipping up to weave into his hair.
“Baby girl, you can't just-”
“What? Pull your hair? Because you like it?”
Tugging on his hair dramatically, Eddie tosses his head back and groans.
“Knew it.”
“Yeah, yeah, certified genius. It's like you don't wanna be railed again.”
Huffing, you pull yourself on top of him again, hardened nipples brushing softly against his flesh.
“Oh, I think I'll be the one railing you. You wanna make a bet, for next time?”
Smug grin forgotten, Eddie stares at you in disbelief.
“Next time?”
“Well, I hope so. Got to be the best I've ever had.”
Stupid Rick and his stupid strain.
“Best you've ever had?”
“Fuck you.”
“Only if you wanna.”
The teasing stopped. At least for now. It was pretty clear, your need for each other was outranking any goading you'd been sharing.
At least for now…
Taglist (Some permanents, some likely candidates, if you want to be added, jus say the word sweetheart)
@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson
#ms gexy writes#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie x you#eddie x reader#stranger things imagines#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things smut#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson fucks#eddie fan fic#eddie smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x fem!oc#eddie munson x female!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#switch!eddie
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𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want? [3k]
fem!reader, shy!reader, implied inexpereinced!reader, friends-to-lovers, pining, mdni heavy petting, hickeys, lots of hickeys, marking up, neck kissing, shoulder kissing, heat of the moment confessions, eddie being flirty but also a good friend, requested here
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Eddie strokes down the length of his guitar neck almost tenderly. You're focused on his hands rather than his mouth as he recounts last night's date to you, distracted by the deft movement of his fingers, which aren't exactly small. It's an oxymoron —paradoxical, even— that his thick fingers would move with such gentle precision.
You shift around where you're sitting on his bedroom floor, criss-cross applesauce with an uncomfortable heat rising from the bottomless pit of your stomach to your tight collar. The white button up you'd worn under your sweater vest is a size too small. You're really starting to notice.
You peel out of the vest and hope it'll help you calm down.
"She wasn't exactly sweet," Eddie says, plucking a string, listening to the sound, and tuning it this way or that depending on how he liked it. "I think she wanted to get it over with, which isn't really my thing. She was in my lap before I could make it clear I wasn't interested in anything quick."
You lift your gaze from his hands. He must feel you watching his face. He looks up in tandem and smiles reassuringly. "It's fine. I kind of thought she was getting into it, she was like a vampire on me at one point, but I wasn't feeling it and it's clear she wasn't either. Drove her home. How was your night, d'you watch that tape?"
You trace the coil of a black curl down to his shoulder, and can't force yourself to meet his eyes as you ask, "A vampire?"
"What?"
"She was like a vampire at one point, you said." Eddie's arm goes still. "What did you mean by that?" you ask.
He puts his guitar down on the floor. You worry you've said something truly dull for him to place his sweetheart in such a rush, but Eddie's like that. He can tell you're embarrassed no doubt, and he's giving you the answer to your question as swiftly as he can to soothe the wound.
"Here, look," he says. He pushes his hair away from his neck on one side and tilts his head, bearing a wine-stained curve of skin to you unabashedly. "She kissed me. She gave me a hickey, used a lot of teeth. That's why it's bruised so much on the edges."
Warmth you've never felt rushes in, like your blood has superheated, and it's written on your face. Eddie's room feels suddenly a thousand times smaller than before and more intimate, his poster wallpaper curving in, the space between you inching closer.
"Sorry," he says, "I know it's kind of weird to show you."
"No, I'm sorry," you say, mortified. "I shouldn't have asked you."
"Yeah, you should. You didn't get it and now you do. I don't mind telling you."
Eddie lets his hair fall back against his neck, a kinky curtain that looks ridiculously soft in the orangey light of his lamp. There's a butter smoothness to it, and the way he moves as he does is worse, his hand open and reaching for you. He doesn't hold your hand, doesn't even try, just lets his upturned palm hang off the edge of his knee as if to say, Ask me whatever it is you want to ask me. It's cool.
"Why would she do that?" you ask, gesturing to your neck.
"It's not her fault, I was flirting with her a ton trying to make it work."
"Not like that."
Eddie's hand turns toward his knee. "Like what?"
Your hand drifts to your own neck absentmindedly. You get kissing, wanting to be kissed and wanting to give them. You understand why she kissed his neck; if you'd been in her position, alone in the car with Eddie laying his charm on thick, you might climb the console and push aside his hair too.
"I know why she kissed you. I don't see why she…" You rub your lips together, your embarrassment turning sharp. You hate how humiliating this feels. "I know what a hickey is, Eds, but why would you want one?"
His turn to fluster. The tiniest tinge of pink paints his cheeks. "Are you asking me why I enjoyed it?"
"Did you?"
You despise yourself, truly. Worse when Eddie laughs, his chest forward, hair falling in his face as he chuckles sincerely.
"Yeah," he says, smiling at you "I liked it. Before she started trying to kill me I was having a good time."
He doesn't put you through the agony of asking what you both know he wants to.
You've never had one?
"It feels warm, and it's– you know how being kissed gives you butterflies, right? It's better than that. It's hot, and all her weight is on you and you have your hand on her back trying to pull her in, and she's as close as she can be without, you know." Something flickers across Eddie's face. Not longing, but a remembered pleasure. It makes you squirm.
"I don't see how it doesn't just hurt."
The hand that hadn't been reaching for you holds a pick. He flashes it between his fingers, a party trick, a nervous tic, his eyelashes tangling together as his eyelids inch closed. He scrunches his face up for a second.
"Don't hate me if I ask you something weird," Eddie says, eyes shut tight.
You don't think you could. You watch Eddie's face, knowing he can't see your analysis, and feel a shock of pins and needles in your hands when his eyes open and immediately lock on to yours.
"Do you want me to give you one?" he asks.
Your lips feel like they've been glued shut. You're aware of your breathing, how shallow each inhale has become, but you can't do anything about it.
He has the decency to acknowledge what position his question puts you in, "I know it might be weird but I can't describe it to you if you don't know what it feels like."
You surprise him. You surprise yourself. "Uh, yeah. Okay."
"Yeah?"
"It doesn't hurt?"
"Not unless you want it to." A hint of a smirk plays on his lips, though it fades quickly. "It doesn't hurt. That's not the point. But it can feel… foreign."
You nod jerkily, wishing you knew what to do.
The atmosphere is thick enough to cut through. Neither of you like it. Eddie gives you another type of smile, a familiar one that says, I'm your best friend, I always will be, so please chill out.
"You're gonna have to sit in my lap."
You actually laugh. "Eddie," you chastise, thinking it's a bad joke.
"Sorry, sweetheart, but it's that or the bed." His teasing tone is light, but he still adds, "I mean, we can do it sitting next to each other but it's difficult. Whatever you want, though."
You climb up on your knees. You're shy, absolutely, you always will be and especially when Eddie's teasing, but he really is your best friend, and the bed isn't happening.
He doesn't scare you.
He grins and ushers you toward him. "Alright, come here." He tugs one of your thighs over his lap and your breath catches. He grabs the other and any laughter between you abruptly dies.
You settle over his lap with an expression not far from pained. Eddie's hands rest against your thigh and your hip. He has to look up at you now, and he does as he encourages your weight firmly downward. You're more than conscious of where you're positioned.
"Do me a favour?" he asks.
"Yeah." You put your hand on his chest tentatively.
"Don't suffer through it if you hate it, okay? All you have to do is say something and I'll stop, but if you feel like you can't, a good right hook would work too."
"I'm not gonna hurt you," you protest.
"Me neither," he says. His hand lifts from your thigh to your neck, and he brushes his fingertips down the curve of it ineffectually. It would feel good if you weren't choking on air. "Relax, sweetheart. Please."
"I'm really warm."
"Your shirt's too tight anyway," he says, hand at your collar. He thumbs open your top button, a second, and exposes the flat of your chest. His fingers slide across your neck as he folds back your starched collar. They're cool compared to the raging heat he finds there.
You take a deep breath.
"You could put your hands in my hair," he says. Wishful thinking has hope colouring his tone.
You put your hands on his shoulders. The very tips of your fingers partition his curls.
He raises an arm above your mess of limbs to weave a hand behind your ear. It's then that you feel his callouses, so rough against the delicate skin of your scalp. Despite their texture, you find it feels good. He tucks his hand in tight, and slowly, slowly turns your head to the side.
"Look up," he murmurs.
You lift your head and stare at the ceiling with widened eyes.
He can't know but he does, and he says, "Close your eyes." The heat of his breath kisses your neck.
You shiver at the suggestion of his lips, and again when they press to your skin. Close-lipped, Eddie kisses the skin just under your ear where on the opposite side of your head his thumb strokes quarter circles. You're quickly overwhelmed by the duelling sensations. You don't notice his lips have parted until he's kissing a sloven path downward, his spit cooling in wake.
This isn't a hickey, this is straight up kissing, and you don't know what to do with how you feel. You hide your hands in his hair.
It tugs him forward. He reads your hands for enthusiasm, and if it is or isn't he pulls you closer still and opens his mouth against your skin. His teeth are impossible to ignore.
Your hand works further into his hair, getting caught in a tangle as he sucks your skin between his lips. His lazy mouthing turns insistent but still gentle, his teeth scratching ever so slightly at your pulse as it capers beneath his ministrations. You gasp at the warmth blossoming under your ribs. You cup the back of his neck a touch too tight.
He doesn't stop kissing you, only grabs your wrist to stop you from choking him out. You make a sound you've never made with him before, a mewl, all breathless and teary as the sensation worsens. Which is to say, betters.
He breaks a particularly rough kiss to suck in breath, his nose sliding up the curve of your neck as he leans back. "You okay?" he murmurs, half-lidded eyes locking onto your flushed face.
"Why does it feel like that?" you ask.
He drops his head, his nose level with your chin. "I don't know," he says, punctuating with a kiss right there, the closest bit of skin he can find. "Want me to do it again?"
You swallow and he must see it. He says nothing, wrapping his arms around your waist as he waits for you to respond. Your stomach pushes into his, your arms braced on his shoulder so you don't collapse into his front, limp with touch.
"Sweetheart, can I do it again?" he asks.
"Yeah," you say, quiet but enthusiastic. "Please."
He's slower this time. Eddie leans into your neck and doesn't kiss you at first, his lips so close to your skin that you can feel their phantom. You skin tingles from his previous scandalising, and it doesn't beg, skin can't beg, but you can, you curl your arm behind his neck and hook his head there, crushing his hair to the crook of your arm. He doesn't take much convincing beyond that. His lips smush against your neck and you feel every millimetre as they part, heat and warmth and wet spreading like budding flowers come to bloom. You melt into him soon after, and Eddie takes your weight in stride, hand at the small of your back and pulling you in so hard you can feel his ribs.
When you think you're used to it —not used to it, but expecting what can be expected— Eddie nips you. Tiny dainty kisses broken up with a nibbling you'd couldn't describe as anything but playful. He laughs at your gasping and does it again, again, giddy hot laughter mixed with one of the strangest feelings you've ever been subjected to. You're molten. You're dizzy with it.
Eddie pulls back enough to ask, "I'm gonna undo another button, okay? Just one. Is that alright?"
"What for?"
"So I can kiss your shoulder. Just your shoulder." He sounds pleading, desperately excited in a way you've never heard him and you want to know what it'll feel like, so you let him.
This next button unveils the top of your bra and the soft hills of your breasts. He doesn't look, barely glances at his hand as he tugs your shirts down your arm, diving into the juncture of your neck like he needs it to breathe. His kisses are proper compared to some of the stuff he's been doing, but then he opens his mouth and the flat of his tongue wets your skin as he kisses kisses kisses down your shoulder. His hand is somewhere under your shirt, fingers slipped under your bra strap and pulling teasingly at the elastic as he eases you down in his arms. You're shorter than him where you'd started taller, totally compressed in his arms and at his mercy.
When he pulls back, the slimmest ribbon of spit shines between your shoulder and his lips. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, his eyes glassy, and that hand cups your face. He pretty much grabs you, but there's not a lick of cruelty in his touch. Eddie's rough. Never cruel.
"You're on fire," he says. It's objective rather than joking. "You're so hot. Do you want to stop?"
"Not– not unless you want to," you say, trying to quieten your breathing. You sound like you've run a marathon. It feels like it.
"I'm gonna give you a real one, cool?"
"I didn't know they weren't real."
"Oh, sweetheart," he says, and his eyes are damning, a loving pity in the black of his blown pupils, "I was just warming you up."
Your mind blanks.
"Make sure I can hide it," you say.
You aren't thinking straight, concerned about hiding his hickeys but not what this means for the two of you. His unexpected hunger, and your willingness to let him eat you whole.
"I don't think you can hide it anymore," he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
You look down at his lips. They're rosy, swollen from the pressure.
He sees you looking.
He yanks you in by the waist and sizes you up, almost, like he's calling your bluff, not spiteful but something mean about him as he stares at your mouth in return.
Like he doesn't want you to make the mistake. Like he knows you won't.
His hand tips your chin up high and he ducks his own down. An inch and you'd be kissing. That's all it would take.
"Is that really what you want?" he asks.
"I don't know," you say. Is it what he wants?
It has to be.
"Have you wanted to, before?" He draws a line down your cheek with his marriage finger. Fast as a heavy tear. "You want me to kiss you?"
"Yeah," you whisper, trying to make sense of this, your sudden confession, a secret want pushed into the light.
Eddie turns his hand and strokes down your cheek with the back of it, pushing any dampened baby hairs away from your skin. His gaze softens.
"Was that so hard?" he asks.
"You knew?"
He kisses you. He's smiling, and he doesn't take just one. He must kiss you four or five times, your lips parted enough to know he could push it further if he wanted, but he doesn't. These kisses are unhurried, missing the ravenous passion of his hickeying but not the fondness.
"You don't know how hard it is," he says after he's broken away, his forehead tipped against yours, "how hard it is to have someone look at you like you look at me everyday, like I'm something you can't have."
"I didn't know–" you knew. You felt the same. His kissing is evidence alone. it's confessional.
"I know. Guess I thought nothing good would come of it, but– but I don't want good. I want you."
He pulls back quickly, like you've said something confessional rather than him. He surprised himself.
"I'm not good?" you ask.
"You're good. You'll ruin me, that's all."
You don't have time to ask him what he means by that. He kisses you again, kisses your cheek, draws a line of crescent moons down along your neck to the mess he's made of you. He kisses– he sucks your neck so hard, so sudden, that goosebumps erupt and you can't stop yourself from saying, "Ohh," as you cling to his shoulders.
This is the vampire thing he'd talked about, the points of his teeth stark against your skin even now. There's another layer of vulnerability unveiled here, knowing that he could really hurt you and knowing he never would. He kisses you until you're overwhelmed by him. Heat everywhere. Sweat shining on your skin. You don't want anything else but this.
You squeak as the pressure turns from pleasurable to too much. Eddie hears the pain in it and pulls away, instantly sorry and willing to prove it, his hands cradling your face.
You pant. He shushes you gently.
"Sorry, baby." He pets your cheeks.
Your head falls back, too heavy on your sore neck. You feel wiped.
Wiped, but good. Lax.
"That was nice," you say breathlessly.
Eddie sits up and drags you with him, hand behind your neck to prop you up. He's laughing again, his awful sweet laugh that you've heard a thousand times before. It never fails to make you smile.
"You're like a dead fish."
You cover an eye with your hand. "I take it the romance is over."
"You thought that was romantic? Babe, I'm only getting started."
Eddie gives you a quick peck. Where his hickey had felt like the heart of a star growing hotter with each passing second, his smaller kiss feels like the sun through blinds, a dappling of warmth.
"Are you messing with me?" you ask.
He pushes his arms over your shoulders for a hug.
"No. Not messing with you." His nose rubs against the shell of your ear. "It's about time we talked."
You let your hand drift down the dip of his back.
"Okay," you mumble. Talking. You need to talk about whatever it is that just happened.
"...Maybe I'll get you a glass of water first," he adds.
"That's a good idea."
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, please consider letting me know/reblogging, it means the world to me and makes a big difference!! ♡ NOTE: Eddie def pines back if that isn't fully clear, I tried to imply it with his date where he could've hooked up with someone but didn't go through with it, it was cos he's too in lurve
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#ish#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#stranger things
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You look lonely.
《 VirginRockstar!Eddie munson x GroupieFem!Reader
《 Summary: Eddie finally had it all, success, money, and fame. There was still one tiny problem he had.
《 Warnings: unprotected sex, Eddie is 25. Virgin!Eddie, multiple orgasms, over stimulation. Loss of virginity. Brief mention of birth control, subish eddie. A little spanking.
《 Word count: a little over 8k
A/n: Not proofread ignore any mistakes you come across. Please like, comment, and reblog to show support. Divider credit @cafekitsune
18+ minors dni
Year 1991
Eddie's life was at an all-time high. He had everything he only dreamt about back home in Hawkins, Indiana. He had money, fame, and adoring fans who loved him. Yet he still never had the opportunity to make a real connection with anyone. He still hasn't found the one.
Which was fine he didn't really need anyone right now. His life was too hectic for a partner. He was traveling all over the world meeting new people every night. He put all of his time and energy into music, and it paid off in the end.
He's surrounded by beautiful models and actresses, but never has he once been lucky enough to be intimate with any of them. He was a nervous and shy guy even after success. He never changed. He was still Eddie. Sweet, shy, and the same nerdy man who loved to play DnD and read Tolkien.
Eddie did have plenty of opportunities to lose his virginity in the past, but he was terrified. Most people would assume he was getting laid left and right. He's read the gossip magazines. He knows what people think of him. While he can talk up a big game, once it's time to get down to it, he just... doesn't.
He runs away. He gets too much in his own head. What if I'm terrible? What if everyone finds out I'm still a virgin at twenty-five? Those thoughts raced in his mind anytime he took a woman out on date, knowing they were expecting to hook up with this crazy rockstar.
His fear of rejection held him back, and now his fear of being a total disappointment was the new cause. He knows there's truly nothing wrong with still being a virgin. it's society who has a problem with it. Normally Eddie wouldn't give two fucks what people thought about him, but this was different. Most days, he actually doesn't care at all or even thinks about it. Until he's alone in bed with nothing but his overthinking brain.
All that would change once he saw you in the crowd. Not blinking. Then he saw you again when he snuck backstage to his dressing room. He managed to somehow sneak past a group of girls without much notice, hiding behind large security guards.
You were standing off to the side next to a crowd full of half-naked women. Eddie didn't mind all of you being there. As a matter of fact, he enjoyed the view after walking off stage. A crowd full of women willing to be his for the night. If only they knew.
Tonight was your first Corroded Coffin show. You've been waiting months to finally see them live. They have been on their world tour for almost a full year. Eddie Munson, their lead singer and guitarist, has had your eye since you first saw them being interviewed on Headbangers Ball.
The moment you saw those eyes and long hair, you were hooked. Once you found out they were coming to your hometown, you rushed to buy the tickets. You were already familiar with the security at the venue they were playing. So, getting backstage access wouldn't be a problem. One of the perks of making friends with the employees.
You didn't sleep with every band that came into town. Only the ones that peaked your interest. You'd never be caught dead in some glam metal band members' hotel room. You liked the thrasher types. The ones who looked like they hadn't slept in days. The bands who were loud and aggressive. Those were your types. The guys in that scene were generally more sweet and down to earth. Which is why you gravitated towards them. If you were good to them, they were good to you.
Corroded Coffin live at The Whiskey a go-go on October 31st, 1991.
You held the ticket in your hand, shaking with excitement. You were finally going to see them in person. You were actually going to meet Eddie Munson. Being a groupie wasn't something you ever intended on happening. It just did. You loved the music first and then got to love the people who created it second.
You weren't too fond being labeled a groupie. You genuinely enjoyed the company of these rockstars. It was never just about sex. You made a real connection and friendship with most of them. You always knew there would be no romantic feelings between yourself and whoever it was you got to know for the night. Or a few nights.
Only two days until Corroded Coffin would be in your city. You bought two tickets just in case your best friend wanted to tag along. She never really enjoyed this scene the same way you did. There was a thrill and rush you got that she never experienced or cared to. Still, you bought the extra ticket just to be on the safe side. Maybe she'd like to share Eddie with you. If she was down. You don't know why you were so sure he'd give you the time of day. But you were.
You were very sure of yourself that you could have him. Most bands had an after-party at their hotel when the show was over. They'd all gather on the bus with whatever groupie of their choosing and head off. That was your plan. Get backstage. Introduce yourself to Eddie and hope he takes you to the party....if they have one. Party or not, you were going to be his.
You've heard the rumors. You read the magazines and seen him out and about with some of the most famous women in Hollywood. The groupies that walked the sunset strip all had a little tale of how he was in bed. They would describe him as rough or very giving. Sometimes both. Some said he was gentle.
Others would say he was an asshole who kicked you out after he got what he wanted. You know, most of the time, you needed to take what they said with a grain of salt. From your past experiences with other bands. Their little stories were fabricated or over dramatized for the sake of attention.
Make no mistake that you didn't just want to sleep with him. You wanted to be his friend. Talk to him about his music. Have a connection with him. Listen to any crazy stories he might have. You wanted to have a life like Pamela Des Barres.
Where songs are written about you. Getting special treatment and tour the world with them. Have a rockstar fall for you even though that's a big no-no. You don't fall in love. You don't get romantic feelings. No matter how deep of a connection you get with one of them. It's hard not to. You idolize these men and women. But you knew it would only end in heartbreak for you.
The night of the concert you decided to go early and sweet talk the security so they'll let you backstage. You knew them pretty well by now. They know why you're there and have no problems with it. Your friend didn't tag along like you were hoping, but you're used to it. You'd figure you would chat it up with some of the other girls' backstage. They weren't your favorite to talk to. Too much jealousy and competition amongst them for your liking, but if gave you something to do in the meantime.
-
Eddie had been scrambling around all day long, getting ready for tonight's concert. He made sure his hair looked nice and his clothes were laid out on his hotel bed. He's been hitting the gym a lot more lately. So his clothing choice consisted of no shirt and just jeans half the time. He's got a lot more tattoos since the last tour he has done. A full chest piece and both arms down to his knuckles covered in ink. He looked a little different now compared to just three years ago.
He was nervous. Eddie was always nervous before a show. No matter if there was a crowd of five people or hundreds. He was scared. He puts too much pressure on himself. He compares himself to his idols too often. Something he knows he shouldn't do, but he can't help himself. He was going to the venue early and helping the roadies unpack and set up the equipment.
Eddie figured he'd meet up with the guys and do sound checks and then help his team get everything ready. They were playing at the Whiskey. A venue Eddie was very familiar with. He's spent most of his time in the crowd watching his favorite bands play up on that stage. Eddie never imagined there would come a point he'd be playing up there, too.
Back at the venue, you were talking it up with one girl you've grown pretty close to. You didn't know her personally, but she was at the same shows you always frequented. Her name was Lila, and she looked like she walked right out of a penthouse centerfold. Long bleached blonde hair, big breasts and legs for days. Most of the other girls hated her, but she was always very sweet. She didn't make up one night stand stories to get "popular." If she didn't hook up with a certain guy, then she'd tell you. She never lied. Which is why you've grown to respect her.
"I hope we get to meet Eddie after the show ." She bounced from one heeled foot to the next. A large smile plastered on her face.
"Me too." You chuckled, watching as she struggled to contain her excitement.
"Doesn't matter which one of us takes him home as long as it is not one of those Debbie downers over there." She leaned forward to whisper.
"Why not have us both?" You joked.
Her jaw dropped." Yes! He can have us both."
You shake your head and pull her to walk over out by the side stage. You always got the best view from there. No one shoves or pushes you out the way. Plus, you could be very close to the band. Which is exactly what you wanted. The sound tech guys were busy putting everything together as the roadies were bringing in the equipment.
That's when you noticed him. Hair pulled back in a low ponytail. His bangs are longer, and loose strands of hair fell beside his face. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just pants and a chain around his neck. The tattoos on his arms and chest on full display for you. Eddie was getting the amps on stage with the rest of the crew. You heard them make a joke about which girl in the back they'd pick out for him. But you didn't care about that. You couldn't take your eyes away. He was truly more beautiful in person than on TV.
Eddie glanced your way a few times when he noticed a couple of people off to the side watching. He felt a blush creep its way up to his cheeks when he saw you gawking at him. Eddie still wasn't the best around women if he didn't prep himself first. He was a good flirt, but the moment he noticed they were checking him out, he'd turn beet red. The little blonde standing next to you had her eyes on the road crew.
You saw him make eye contact with you a few times, and your mouth went dry. You've been with plenty of rockstars before, but none of them have ever given you butterflies the way Eddie did. His big brown eyes look straight into yours, and your breath hitches. You tried to elbow Lila and get her attention, but she was too busy checking out a roadie. She was like that.
It didn't matter if they were the ones playing onstage or working for the band. If she found them attractive, she went for it. You nudged and nudged desperately, trying to get her attention as Eddie's eyes never left yours. But all you heard was her giggle next to you as she eyed up and down the guitar tech. "Alright, Ed, time for sound check." You saw Jeff peek his head from around the corner.
You lost her now. Her focus was not on Eddie anymore but his roadie. You wouldn't be surprised if she even stayed to watch the show.
Only an hour until the show starts and you were getting antsy. Lila was gone. She left not too long after the stage was officially set up. You knew where she ventured off to. Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. You just wish you weren't alone. There was something so...exciting about tonight. You've been to plenty of rock concerts, but this one was different. You didn't want to experience it alone.
Corroded Coffin were still considered newcomers. Who got very big very fast. There wasn't a magazine on a stand that didn't have Eddie's face on it. From tabloids to Spin magazine. He was on it. The thrill of getting to experience him in person was coursing through your veins.
There was this lump of excitement in your throat. You wanted to scream. Get it all out. You made up your mind that you were going back to his tour bus or hotel room. He was going to be yours for the night. It didn't matter how many women were lined up for his picking. It was going to be you.
Finally, the lights dim, and the crowd has already gathered to their designated spots. You were still off to the side. Gazing up at the smokey harsh purple haze lighting up the stage. There is a backdrop with huge black lettering reading Corroded Coffin hanging up high. Gareth is already at his drum set, setting up for the rest of the guys to make their grand entrance.
Each member emerges from behind the curtain with a roar from this pretty large crowd. Jeff and Grant waved to the sea of people. The crowd is alive, and you can feel it. That electricity is pumping in your veins. The place was packed. Maximum compacity is five hundred, but you know there is way more than that here tonight.
The mic in the middle of the front stage stays empty. Eddie still has yet to come out and introduce his band. The crowd is getting more and more wild. The other members play some instrumental songs to help hold everyone over until he arrives.
The band picks up speed, and the lights switch from a purple haze to red. The entire stage was glowing. The smoke on the stage gets thicker. The crowd forms a mosh pit right off to the side from you. Some of them sneak on stage to dive back into the crowd.
Your eyes have not left the stage. Not once. You kept glancing back from the mic stand to the curtain. You wouldn't lie. You were getting impatient. Extremely impatient. You wish you still had Lila with you so you could have someone to talk to as time passed. Knowing her, you probably won't be seeing her around until the next band is in town.
You blinked, and there he was. A guitar slung over his chest. His hair hanging loose around his shoulders. The shirt he was wearing now tore and cut shows off all of his tattoos. He doesn't say anything. He makes his way to the mic with a cocky smirk on his face. Watching the sea of arms waving out for him. The band never slows. Eddie starts belting out lyrics to their newest single. His voice growling in the mic. You'll never understand how these guys can do this almost every night for months on end.
The veins in his neck buldging out with every passing lyric. The crowd here tonight has never been like this before. There was something so special about witnessing a group with so much energy and passion that it's passed off to the crowd. The floor beneath your feet vibrating. You can't tell if it's from the music or the stampede next to you. Whatever it was, it had you mesmerized.
Your eyes still never left, Eddie. He stopped playing for a short moment to address the crowd. "How is everybody doing tonight?!" The contrast bewildered you. Between his speaking voice and singing voice definitely would give anyone whiplash.
He scanned the crowd, looking at how chaotic it had been since he arrived. Eddie looks off the side and sees you there. Same spot at earlier. You must look utterly hypnotized, and truth be told you were. You couldn't look away. He's got some kind of hold on you. He smirks and looks back to the rest of the audience, but every so often would make eye contact with you.
Song after song, you noticed guitar picks landing by your feet. You hadn't seen the first three times it was done. Too busy watching him thrash away on his guitar. You're surprised it's still able to play after the beating he's given it. He's playing so fast his hand looks like a blur. A pick slapping you in the chest snaps you back to reality. You bend to retrieve it and notice there are now five picks total all by your feet. They're a crimson red with E.M. scratched in the back.
Eddie had been throwing his picks at you the whole time. You hadn't noticed until he plucked one so hard at your chest that you felt it through your t-shirt. He moves over to your side of the stage and crouches down so he's almost eye level with you. He's so close you can touch him if you wanted. Eddie plays the solo of their final song of the night right in front of you. It was like he was playing it for you. Time stood still. Just the two of you and the music. You didn't even realize you stopped breathing until he got up and walked away. Giving you one last look over his should.
Eddie goes back to stand at his microphone. His confidence is through the roof. His stance is proud. "Thank you so fucking much for coming out to see us tonight. We are Corroded Coffin!" He growls that last part out, and the crowd erupt so loud you know your ears will be ringing tomorrow. The vibration on the floor intensified. You were surprised that it hasn't collapsed in yet.
One by one, the members exit the stage. Leaving Eddie to be the last. He looked back at you one last time and gave a little wave. Did he really just wave at you? No must have been to someone else. Definitely not you. You kept telling yourself.
There is no way. He was giving you a lot of attention tonight. Maybe he was? You kept arguing back and forth in your mind as you headed out.
Before you can even try to find the backstage area again, there is a security guard handing you a pass. That was awfully quick, but you don't dwell on it. All you wanted was to find Lila and Eddie.
You rush to the back and see her sitting on a case that holds one of their bigger amps. Her hair is disheveled, and her makeup all smeared. "Where did you go?"
She jumps, "Oh hey!! I got preoccupied."
"How was the show?"
You snort. "It was amazing. They were amazing. He was amazing."
"Babe, that's great. Are you going to the after-party at their penthouse?" Lila goes to stand and smooths down her dress. "The roadie.. I forgot his name told me about it."
"Oh, I'm definitely going. The security guard gave me a pass. I'm sure Eddie told him to give it to me. He had been throwing these at me all night." You go into your pocket to show her one of his picks he had been hitting you with.
Her eyes widened, and a smile spreads across her face. "He wants youuu."
She looked over at the other girls, who were now ease dropping on your conversation. She rolled her eyes and went back to give you a big hug. A bright smile stretched across her face.
"Let's get going. There is another little roadie I got my eye on." She hooks an arm around yours, guiding you to the exit doors.
You don't see Eddie anywhere. He's not out mingling with any of the backstage crew or fans. You figured he was getting cleaned up after the show. He did look very sweaty. His shirt clung to his skin, and his bangs stuck to his forehead. You were positive you would see him at the after party.
The after-party was at this luxury hotel in the penthouse suite. Jeff, Grant, Gareth, and Eddie all had their own hotel rooms but used this one for mingling after their concert. There were tons of people here. Lila left you behind again the moment she walked through those double doors. She saw her roadie and planted herself in his lap and never got up.
You dabbled in conversation with their crew and had a pretty good talk with Jeff. He was the calm one of the band, and Grant was the funny one. When they got to bickering, it was like watching an old married couple. Grant would say some stupid joke, and Jeff would rub at his temple like he just came down with the worst migraine of his life.
While you were busy conversing with them, you kept scanning the room for Eddie. The sole reason you were even here to begin with. He wasn't here. At least not yet. You were wondering if maybe he found someone else to spend his night with. The thought of that riddled you with disappointment. Was he even the one who gave you the pass?
That didn't stop you from looking. The more you looked for him, the less engaged you were with the two men in front of you. The drink in your hand has become room temperature. More people have now rushed to join the party. The air was thick with smoke. The music was loud, and you started to feel suffocated. You excused yourself from the conversation to go to a less occupied area away from everyone.
As you're making your way past drunk person after drunk person, you see him. Eddie's standing off to the side with a glass in hand that contained a dark liquid. He looks freshly showered. His hair is still a little damp at the ends. You decided to muster up some courage and walk over to where he was tucked away all alone.
"You look lonely." You remark watching his face closely.
He swirls the brown liquid in the glass, causing the ice to clink. "Nah, jus' wanted a moment to cool down." He stared ahead watching the party.
"You know, just one pick would've been enough." You joked, hoping to lighten his mood a little. Eddie was coming off dismissive, but he's was just shy. He's never been good with small talk. As a matter of fact, he hated small talk it always felt forced more than anything.
He snorts, "Sorry bout that you weren't really noticing the first three I plucked your way, though."
"That's fair...."
You eye him and down, taking him all in. He looked good. Eddie notices you checking him out, too. His bites his inner cheek to keep calm. You're looking at him like you want to devour him whole.
"Wanna go somewhere more quiet?" You place a hand on his forearm and lean in a little close.
"It's pretty loud in here. I can't really hear you." You played innocent. You know what you were doing, and Eddie definitely knew what you were doing.
He gulps "Uhhh...sure". He straightens himself up, clearing his throat. He needs to keep his composure. But for how long? Would tonight be the night?
This alway happened he would invite a girl to his room or they would invite him somewhere. Things would get hot and heavy, and right when it was time to fuck he'd kick them out. Too embarrassed to be a disappointment for them. He'd rather be called an asshole than terrible at sex. Tonight? Tonight was going to be different.
He set his drink down by a near table and takes you by the hand leading you out a door you had no idea was there. Eddie walks you down an empty hallway until he's stopping at his room door. He takes his key out and looks back to see you behind him, staring at the fancy carpet. He was nervous but so were you. Just a little. Eddie had a bit of liquid courage in him tonight. He's usually a beer guy but decided to go for something harder to celebrate how great of a show tonight was.
There is a click, and soon he's pushing open the door. "You first." As he bows letting you enter.
You make your way in the room as he flicks on the lights behind you. It was large with a couch facing a king-sized bed. You take your jacket off, and he does the same. Eddies wearing a shirt that if it had anymore holes wouldn't even be considered wearable anymore. It does show off his arms and tattoos, so you're not complaining.
Throwing your jacket on the side of his couch, "You guys were really good tonight."
"Thanks the crowd was fucking insane." Eddie's making himself another drink at the mini bar. "Thought they were gonna go through the floor."
"Want one?" He offers calling over to you.
Shaking your head. "No, I had quit enough earlier, actually."
He nods respectfully at your decline.
Rounding the corner of his bar, he comes to plop down beside you, spilling a little of his drink on him. He's watching you closely, and you've never felt more nervous around anyone else before. You've done this plenty of times. Take a rockstar back to their room. Have some fun, and then stay a little while or leave. No one has ever made your heart skip a beat other than Eddie Munson. Who is now watching you intently. In this moment, you really wish Lila was here too.
You do it. You go right for it. This is why you're here. Why he took you to his room with no amount of hesitation. Leaning forward, you capture his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. You can taste brandy on his mouth as your tongue swips his bottom lip for access. Eddie still holding on to his drink, and the other is firmly planted beside him. You stop coming up for air. His chest is heaving, and his pupils are blown.
Eddies doesn't say anything. He was too caught up on from your kiss. He leans back in the cushions. Letting his legs spread wider apart. You take that as an opportunity to straddle his lap. Eddie stared up at you, and before you could say anything. His plump lips were already on yours. You grind down against him feeling his semi hard cock through his pants. He grunts in your mouth as your tongues fight for dominance.
You press down harder in his lap, desperately looking for any small amount of friction you could get. Wetness is already pooling between your legs. His hands move to grip on your ass hard as he helps you move against him.
You kept thinking to yourself that this wasn't real. You're actually not sitting in Eddie Munson's lap making out in his hotel room. He moans when he feels your hand dip down to rub his cock. Feeling how hard he was getting in his jeans.
Eddie breaks the kiss and stills your movements on him. "Wait, you don't wanna do this with me. He frowns.
"Why wouldn't I?" You're confused. Does he not like you? Does he not find you attractive and is only saying this to be nice so you'd leave? So many thoughts rush through your head in just a couple of seconds.
"I dunno. I just think you might be let down a little." His voice is small. He's not the big loud rockstar that was screaming just hours ago.
Eddie still won't dare look at you. Too afraid of rejection even to this day if he told you the truth.
Your brows furrow, and you laugh in disbelief, "Why would I be let...down? "
He rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated groan. He moves to get up, and you go to sit back in your spot on the couch.
Pinching the bridge of his nose. His lips were in a thin line. He was annoyed and embarrassed. Mostly with himself.
".....fuck I guess now is the time." He muttered under his breath.
"Ive never done this before." Eddie waved from himself to you. Hoping you got what he was trying to say so he didn't have to blurt it all out.
"Huh, do what? You're still so confused, but you're trying to understand him.
Not only did his music mean so much to you, but he did as well. Corroded Coffin was the first band you truly clung on to. The first band that you actually bought a ticket to see instead of sneaking in and stealing a seat. Seeing him struggle to find his words was truly tough to watch. You have so much respect and admiration for him. The last thing you want is to see him upset over something.
"It's okay Eddie whatever it is, you can tell me. It won't make me think any less of you. You tried to reassure him.
He takes a deep breath, "Fucking hell I can't believe I'm about about tell you this...I'm a virgin."
You blinked back, thinking he was just messing around. He was known to pull little pranks on people. "Shut up, you're lying. I've heard the rumors."
"Yeah, that's what they are, rumors, all lies." He chews on his thumb nail out of nervousness. Would you laugh at him now? Is he still this amazing rockstar? "It won't make me think any less of you." Yours words ring in his head, but were they true?
"B-but you've gone out with like very famous women." It's not that you didn't believe him or that this was a bad thing. He was a famous rockstar who could have anyone he wanted.
"Nothing ever happened, sure. I tried to get to know them and have a serious relationship, but most of them just used me to shed whatever good girl image they had going." Eddie confessed. There was a hint of sadness in his voice.
"So... You're telling the truth?"
"Yeah, I understand if you wanna leave." His tone was harsh, but he didn't mean for it to come off that way. He is getting defensive to protect himself from humiliation.
"I don't wanna go." You move to stand in front of him. "Do you want me to leave?"
"No," Eddie's voice is barely above a whisper. He finally looks at you, and his face softens when he sees no amount of judgment coming from you.
"Let's get on the bed." You push him so he flops back on the mattress. Standing between his legs hanging off the side, bare feet firmly planted on the floor. His shoes having long been discarded.
Slowly, you strip yourself of your top, pulling it above your head as he watched your tits bounce as you lift the shirt. You weren't wearing a bra, and you were thankful for that. One less article of clothing to getting in the way. Next was your jeans, and you carefully inched them down your legs along with your panties. Eddies eyes stayed glued to you as you became completely bare before him.
"You ever touched a girl before?" You crawl on top of him sitting just below his cock straining painfully against his zipper.
He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I've touched tits before."
"Not tits..here." You laugh, taking his hand and putting it between your legs. He lets out a shakey breath. Feeling the wetness between your legs as you feel his calloused fingers explore your entrance. Your slick coating his fingertips, getting them nice and sticky.
"Oh," he marveled, his eyes focusing on where his hand currently was.
"I'm gonna make you feel so good, Eddie." You purred.
You bite back a moan as he continued to explore at your opening. Your hand gripped at his wrist.
"Fuck." He cursed under his breath. Your pussy felt so inviting. Dripping wet like it was crying out for him. Begging and pleading to be fucked.
His finger glided up between your folds until they're grazing your aching clit. "Mmm, that feels so good." You praised and move both of your hands to place them on his chest.
Eddies watching and studying your face. His fingers rubbing sloppy slow circles on your throbbing clit. Your slick dripping down your inner thighs. You moan out his name and it takes everything in Eddie not to cum on the spot.
"Take your clothes off." You breathed heavy, feeling yourself already getting close.
He sat up quickly as you helped remove his shirt and pants. Leaving him in nothing but his blue checkered boxers. Tiny beads of sweat already forming on his face and tattooed chest. You take a moment to admire the dark inck, covering him almost up all the way up to his neck. You know It must have taken hours or even days to finish.
He lays there waiting. Watching and waiting for your next move or instructions. Whatever you were going to do, he was ready for it. Anything you wanted, he's all ears. Eddie was yours for the night as he wasn't going to chicken out this time. No running.
His cock forming a large tent in his underwear already. You can see a small wet patch from his pre cum. "Can I kiss you?"
He nods, moving forward to plant his lips to yours. You giggle, "Not on the mouth."
"Im talking about right there." You run your thumb over his leaking tip that's trapped in his boxers. A mischievous grin creeping up on your face.
Eddie looks a little dazed. Like he can't believe this actually happening to him right now. "Y-yeah."
You pull his boxers down letting his cock free. His tip was an angry shade of red, precum dripping down his cock. Your mouth salivating at his length. His cock was thick with prominent running down his shaft. It laid nicely against his belly button.
"You have such a pretty cock." You cooed taking his length in your hand. Eddie hisses from your touch. He's so sensitive that any amount of attention will send him just about over the edge.
His head falls back, and you can see his Adam's apple bounce when he swallows. He blows out a breath of air, trying to focus.
"Oh shit." He whispered to himself.
You take the opportunity to lick a strip up the side of his cock. He groans deep from his chest. He was going to cum he just knows it. With his cock still in your hand you slap the head of his cock on your tongue tasting the saltiness of his pre cum. Wrapping your lips around the head, you swirl and suck on him gently. Eddie throws an arm over to cover up face. His other hand clawing at the white duvet.
"I-if you don't stop, I'm not gonna last much longer." He managed to stammer out. Your mouth too busy working on his sensitive tip to even care.
You remove his cock to speak, "That's kinda the point."
Wrapping your soft lips back around him. You suck much harder this time, and his hips involuntarily buck. You smile, feeling a boost of confidence you are getting this type of reaction out of him. Felt like getting a little cocky. you decided to take him further in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat.
His abdomen flexing as his release builds. Your throat swallowing around his length. You pull him almost all the way out before taking him in your mouth fully again. Your head bobbing up and down his shaft. His hips bucking up again making his cock go deeper in your throat. You gag slightly as spit drips down your chin.
Eddies still hiding his face from you. His cheeks flushed. "Fuck....I'm gonna cum."
You bob your faster. You take absolutely no sympathy on him. You want him to finish. You want to taste and feel his cum sliding down the back of your throat. You say something in audible as your mouth is currently stuffed full. Your jaw is hurting and going slack. But you don't care.
Your main goal for right now is not only to make him cum, but make him do it as many times as he can handle. With no warning, Eddie grabs your hair and keeps your head in place while thrusting up in your mouth, making it difficult for you to catch your breath. Your nose brushes against the soft curls of his with each thrust he gave. His hips raising off the bed to push his cock in the back of your throat.
"Mmphf, ooh shit." He grunts, shooting ropes of cum down your throat. The saltiness of his cum is all you can taste. Eddies relentlessly fucking your mouth the way he wants to fuck your pussy as he rides out his orgasm.
Every low groan emitted deep from his chest causes your pussy to flutter, sending a shiver down your spine.
He lets go of you, and you remove him from your throat with a loud pop. His cum and your saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.
"Christ, I'm sorry." Eddie apologized, He really tried not to cum so suddenly. He really really did.
You coughed a little, finally able to breathe normally again. "It's okay."
"Yeah, but... what about you?" He asked as guilt was starting to set in. He didn't want you leaving with ache between your legs that wasn't satisfied.
"Who said we were done?" You smile deviously at him. His cock still semi hard on his belly. You lay beside him, running your fingernails against his length. He gasps and lets out a whimper.
The difference between this Eddie and the one on stage is something you'll never forget. His cock twitches and you can feel him getting hard under your touch.
"Scoot up on the bed for me." You instructed, wanting him to get nice and comfortable before continuing.
Eddie listened and moved higher up on the bed until his head hit the pillows.
You move to straddle him. His cock sitting just above your pussy. He's looking at you in awe. Like you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, and he's completely at your mercy. And you are. And he is. As of right now, if you told him to run naked down the hallways, he'd do it. Eddie would do anything you told him to.
You rise and scoot forward some more so his cock is between your wet fold. You rock back and forth on him. He moan as you rubbed yourself on his cock. Your aching clit is finally getting some much needed attention. His chest is rising and falling rapidly.
Eddie moves his hands so they're holding on tight to your hips. You grind on him harder and faster. Your juices soaking his thick cock. That's it he was going to cum again. It was too much. What was left of his cum you didn't clean off was currently making a mess all over your pussy.
"F-fucking! hell." Eddie breathed, his fingers digging deep into your skin. He could feel another orgasm approaching him.
You felt yourself growing closer, too. The veins on his cock pulsating between your legs. Your pussy rubbing against him so deliciously. His tip nudging at your clit. Your legs tremble. Eddie bites down hard on his bottom lip almost drawing blood. His eyes glossed over. He was in pure extacy.
Eddie couldn't get enough. The feeling of his cock gliding between your slippery wet folds. It was driving him wild. If just by doing this felt incredible. Then he can't even comprehend what it must feel like to be buried in your pussy.
You had him drooling and unable to think straight. Nothing his own hand and a dirty magazine has ever been able to accomplished. Whatever his own imagination concocted was nothing compared to you. Nothing at all.
"You....this--fuck I can't even talk." Eddies whimpering and whining under you. He has a vice grip going from your ass and back to your hips. Moving them to hold on for dear life or smoothing over the softness of your skin.
"Oh my god!" he croaked. The bed rocking back and forth as you grinded on his cock. The pictures on the wall shake as you go faster. He watches as your breasts bounce, putting him in a trance.
Your climax quickly approaching, but you try to push it back. You wanted him to cum. You'll get yours later.
You feel him twitch again, and he curses under his breath. The grip he has on your hips starts to hurt. "I'm cuming...oh fuck I'm cuming." You haven't stopped moving as his cum shoots out onto his stomach and chest. Tears spring to his eyes and pour down his cheeks. Both of your minds are clouded. You stop grinding, letting him come down from his high.
He lays there limp arms out stretched after letting you go.
"I..youre so fucking amazing." Eddie finally spoke up.
You move back off him letting his cock rest up before you continued anymore. If only others could see him right now. Completely fucked out and you've only just begun. His skin is shiny with a sheen of sweat in the lighting of his hotel room. Eddie would never forget this moment or you for that matter. If he could take you on tour with him and never let you leave, he would.
"Hey, pretty boy, you okay?" You coaxed, running a hand down his cheek.
He doesn't speak, still trying to collect himself. "Mmhmm." Was all you managed to get out of him. His cock was surprisingly still hard.
"Are you ready to feel me now?" You leaned over to whisper in his ear. Licking a strip up his throat before biting down, leaving a tiny little bruise behind.
"Fuck yes." His husky voice as he replied. His eyes are closed, preparing himself for you.
Eddie was ready for this. More than ready. He made himself wait long enough out of fear and anxiety.
"Need your cock so bad." You playfully whine. Hearing that drove him crazy. He doesn't think he'll ever tire listening to someone beg for his cock from now on. Not after tonight.
You smile and move to lean up. Taking his length in your hand and aligning him up at your opening. His breath hitches as you take just his tip in you. Eddies mouth hangs open as he watches you slowly sink down on his length.
You take him inch by inch teasing him as you do. He's so thick it's going to take time adjusting to his size. You don't think you're ever going to feel as full as you will tonight. Somehow, you wonder if Eddie truly knows just how big he is. He has to have an idea? Right?
You continue sinking down on his cock while its spreading you open. It was pleasure and a little pain feeling him splitting you open like this. Your pussy dripping for him. "Ooh, Eddie."
He's biting hard on his closed fist. Fighting hard to contain whatever animalistic moan is threatening to escape. The tip of his cock is a shade of red that's almost purple. The veins in his neck protruding out.
"Please fuck me." He begged you.
Eddie Munson just begged you to fuck him. He's actually begging.
you most definitely are not forgetting tonight and will most certainly never tell anyone. Not even Lila. Sorry, she had a chance to be here and instead picked a roadie. The boost of confidence that just surged through your body after hearing him.
"I-i don't care what you do jus fuck me oh fff-god please!" Eddie whined as he rushed to feel your pussy hugging around his cock.
"Relax, I'm g'nna fuck you." You teased.
Finally you bury him deep inside you until his cock has fully disappeared. You both sigh in unison at the relief. You sit still, allowing yourself to get used to the intrusion. You roll your hips, taunting him a little.
"Sweetheart, dont tease me. I need you." He begs you some more.
"Mmf! god!, you're so big." You whimper. Eddie's cock stretched your sensitive walls the way no one else ever has.
You brace your hands on his abdomen. Eddie, out of nowhere, slaps your ass hard. He was growing extremely impatient all of a sudden. Grabbing your attention immediately. You nod, blowing out a breath of air. Rolling your hips some more before lifting them up and slamming yourself back down on him. His pubic hair tickling at your clit. Your both moaning together as his hips thrust up to meet yours. His tip hit that spongey spot on your walls.
"Fuck fuck... it hurts", Eddie cried with a strangled moan.
"Want me to stop?" You asked stopping yourself from gliding your pussy on his length.
"No! Don't stop!" He half shouts.
"I like it."
You quirk an eyebrow at him. His eyes look into yours, pleading for you to keep going. You lift yourself up and gingerly sink back down on his cock.
"Faster." Eddie demanded with a croak in his voice. You don't hesitate for a second. You lift up and start bouncing on his length at a frantic pace.
The springs in the mattress squeaked from how hard you rode him. Eddies face twisting up, and you know he's about to cum once more. He's blabbering nonsense beneath you. Mumbling to himself, "it hurts... so good," and "You're so tight."
He moves one of his hands to grip and spank your ass harshly. You know he is probably mimicking what he's seen in porn but you dont mind. You enjoyed it. Your pussy making a loud wet schlick noise as Eddie's cock stretched you open.
"Ahh! Eddie." You moan out for him.
"Keep fucking me.....dont stop. Dont f-fking stop." He grunts. His eyes half lidded as he watched you ride his cock. "Goddamn, you're wet!"
You feel your release building back up. You reach a hand between your legs as Eddie watched you. You rub tight circles on your sore bud.
He leans up on his elbows, looking on as you play with yourself. He was getting close again. Another orgasm threatening to spill out of him. Eddie is surprised he's about to give you another. he knows he's about to cum for the third time tonight.
"W-wanna cum again for you." Eddie lets out a small whimper. He sounded so needy.
"Oooh baby." You mewl. Your mouth creating an O shape. Your eyes are closed tight, and your thighs shake. You feel that coil in your belly tightening. "Spank me again." You begged him.
Eddie does as he's told and slaps your ass hard, causing it to ripple. The sound of skin slapping bouncing off the wallpapered room.
He feels your walls pulsing around his cock and he thrusts up repeatedly hitting that spongey spot inside you just right. Your hand moving faster circles on your clit as you struggle to keep riding him.
Eddie keeps thrusting his cock up in your pussy over and over again. It doesn't take much longer before your orgasm is ripping through your body. You let out moan that almost resembles a scream. He's watching you come undone before him. A hint of pride hits him, knowing it was him who did that to you. You won't be surprised if hotel security is called to check and see if any is hurt. The noises coming from this room would cause anyone to be concerned.
Your nails digging in his chest while his cock helps you ride out your orgasm. Your body spasms above him. You lean forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You stay like that while Eddies sweaty skin and leftover cologne invading your nose. Sitting back up your mind feeling foggy and your face tingles. White dots appearing in front of you.
"Sweetheart I-I can't cum inside you." Eddie rasped his face tear stained. His eyes look at you sadly.
"I'm on the pill it's okay." You reassured.
He nods and you move your hips to easily ride on his cock. Your pussy clenching up around his length was sending him over the edge. You were so tight. So wet. His balls are completely saturated in your creamy juices.
You feel his length twitch against your walls. Just a few more pumps of his cock and he's spilling his load for the third time. Eddie cums so deep and hard inside of you he forgets how to breathe for a moment.
His toes curling and eyes go crossed. His mouth hanging wide open. He shoots a hand up to press against the headboard, bracing himself. You're relentless on top of him. Bouncing on his cock the bed is smacking the wall with so much force.
"Fuking christ." He grunts, his head digging back into the pillow. His back arching. You don't stop bouncing up and down on him like a bunny until you've milked him dry. His cock growing more in pain by the minute.
"C-cant cum again" Eddie pleaded. His cock hurt and it was now unbearable. Not like how it felt before when the pain was enjoyable. He can feel himself, getting close again.
Eddie just can't do it. He wants to, but he can't. He wants to fill you up with his cum again. He wants to make a mess of you the same way you did for him. Unfortunately his cock is too worn out and and sensitive to give you another.
You listened and halted.
"No more." He breathed.
"Want me to stop this time?"
Eddie nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. Regretfully, he had to stop. He's drained in more ways than one.
His face all the way to his neck is beet red. If his chest wasn't covered in tattoos, you'd guess he was that color all over.
He lets out a shuddered breath, running a hand in his hair. You take the opportunity to carefully remove him from inside you. Wincing a little at the sudden loss. His cum dripping out of your pussy and down your trembling legs a little getting on him as well. Eddie is quivering beneath you. There is a trail of his cum left behind on his abdomen and chest from his previous orgasm.
You laid back down next to where he was. His cock sore and tired from the abuse you just gave it. You and Eddie lay there not speaking for a while. The only sounds are low hums coming from the A/C. Your breathing evening out.
"Ya okay?" You asked softly, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, I...I feel fan-fuckin-tastic, actually." Eddie laughed, recalling what just happened.
"Well, I should probably get ready to go now." You announce trying to hide the sadness in your voice.
"You're not gonna stay a little longer?" He moves to sit up.
"D-did you want me to stay?" You eyed him curiously.
"....well, yeah." His voice now very horse from grunting for so long. He shifts to look you in the eyes. Letting you know he's serious.
"You can sleep here if you want and leave in the morning. Check out isn't until 11:am."
"Oh okay..I'll stay." You smiled over to him.
"Cool! Hey, did you want to hear this new song I'm working on?" Eddie exclaimed, trying to stand on his wobbly legs.
He carefully walks over to his guitar, still completely naked, and his hair disheveled.
"Is that even a question?" You pick up his discarded grungy t-shirt throwing it over your head. You never realized how cold his room felt until now.
For the rest of the night, Eddie spent the majority of the time playing you little snippets of songs he's been writing. He'd ask you for honest feedback, which you gave.
"Ya know, I'm definitely gonna be writing a song about you." He stated, strumming lazily on his guitar.
Your eyes widened as you laughed at what you thought was a joke." You're serious?"
"As a heart attack." Eddie smiled before getting off the couch, tackling you back on the bed and attacking your neck. Having you both giggling like maniacs.
After this night, you became a legend in your own right. You swore you'd never tell a soul about this, but It didn't take long after the song was officially released for everyone to put two and together. Eddie kept his word about writing a song after you. He didn't mention you were his first, but that's okay. That can be your little secret together. The best kept secret.
Corroded Coffin would go off to win two grammys and headline stadium tours. You went to see them when they came into town, and Eddie gave you the VIP treatment. You promised yourself you wouldn't catch feelings. That was hard to do when he would serenade you in his hotel room.
Eddie was too charming and caring to avoid any of that. You knew better, and you curse yourself for even going against your own set of rules. You were sure Eddie didn't feel the same. He just had a special bond with you after you took his virginity. He definitely didn't possess any true feelings for you besides admiration and friendship. Or did he? Only time will tell.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things#rockstar!eddiemunson#eddie munson smut#my writing#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#virgin!eddie munson#sub!eddie#virgin!eddie x reader
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Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Fem!Reader
wc: 19.2k (it wasn't intended to be this long)
+18, best friends to lovers, rockstar eddie, mentions of drug usage (not abuse), slight mention of steve x reader, jealousy, self-consciousness, reader feels insecure about her body, mentions of skin texture (cellulite, adiposities, stretchmarks, floppiness, sagginess, etc), smut, love making, p in v (protected), fingering, just pure absolute fluff.
Plot: You've been in love with your best friend ever since you can remember, and the hope of ever confessing vanished slowly as he signed a record deal and became a rockstar. His flings were now models, and singers... how can you even compete? Their perfect and smooth skin against your cellulite and stretchmarks? Their bodies completely perky?...But your rockstar kind of explodes with his feelings, out of jealousy, and shows you just how much you don't have to worry about that.
a/n: absolutely self indulgent. thank you to all the beautiful friends that read this, and were in the middle of me making this happen. i love you @munson-blurbs @andvys @ghost-proofbaby @pastel-pillows @the-unforgivenn @littlesubbyflower !
always reblog, don't be lazy
ORANGE PEEL SKIN
Being best friends with a rockstar was not something you ever thought you’d be.
But you have been friends even before his fame took off before his songs were known. Before his band got called into a prestigious studio back in L.A to record their first-ever demo album. Before his life got turned into a life of luxury and parties. A life he always didn’t believe he would get, but he worked hard to get it, manifested it, and now he is the leader of his rock band.
Corroded Coffin.
With the same three friends from High School, and he was the shining star of it all. He insisted on his bandmates, Jeff, Gareth and Grant to trust him, and they did, ending up with this record deal, and they will forever be grateful to him.
Now, you, well, you weren’t in the band, but Eddie invited you on tour sometimes, because that’s what being his best friend got you. You often insisted for him not to waste money on your trips, plane tickets, hotel room, and pleasantries, but he never listened. He showered you with gifts whenever he could.
He got you the latest cellphone, designer bags, and clothes, some perfumes, but he never fails to buy you the one thing you like the most in every country he visits, and it’s tiny, yet he always smiles when he gives it to you. Magnets.
You collected them in your fridge, amazed to see every place he’s been to, knowing that the boy that lived in the small trailer in Forest Hills now brings you magnets from all around the world. The boy you’ve known since you moved to Hawkins. The boy that tried to teach you DnD in the woods at the back of his trailer, but your fourteen-year-old self didn’t care for games. Yet you loved listening to him.
Because you’ve been in love with Eddie Munson ever since you can remember.
But that love is impossible, now more than ever. He never gave the indication he felt the same, and sure you two were close, mentally, emotionally, and physically. You always sit on his lap so he can play with your hair, or you two would greet each other with kisses on the cheeks, or simply hold hands as you two watch a movie together.
Now Eddie being a rockstar, well, you have no chance whatsoever. He had a fling with Miley Cyrus, and you remember it clearly. It was a simple drunk fuck, but it was enough to make you realize that you are certainly not his type. Then he hooked up with another model, and you found out because you saw it on a gossip instagram page.
Your heart broke in pieces when you saw it, knowing the boy you loved for so long so out of reach, yet so close thanks to your friendship. Even if in pain, you could not let him go, not that easily. You just loved him so much, but even you knew it had to be stopped at some point. It couldn’t go on. You will die from a heartbreak sooner or later, and you have to avoid it.
But he makes it difficult, and even more so now that he is taking a break from tour to visit Hawkins so he can see his old friends and Wayne, including you. It’s been four months since you’ve seen him in person, only talking with him through phone and video calls, but very little. He was always busy or going to parties or meeting other bands and singers.
And even if that hurts you, you will never stop loving him. Not really, not ever.
“You okay?”
Your thoughts got cut off as you shook your head to look at Chrissy who was looking at you with a worried look on her face. Your best friend knew about your feelings for the metalhead, and Chrissy has held you many times on nights where you just cried your eyes out because of every call, of every picture, of every rumor you heard of him.
“Yeah, I am just nervous I guess.” You responded and Chrissy only nodded in a slow motion towards you. You looked around to see everyone gathered in Steve’s backyard, the sunset giving perfect orange hues as Wayne started the fire for some burgers, and Dustin was getting the cooler with beers alongside Mike.
You couldn’t believe these boys were almost twenty. You didn’t mind that they drink some beers at this age, because who didn’t drink alcohol being below twenty-one? But did time pass by this quickly? When did it happen?
“If you say so.” Chrissy mumbled as she pressed a hand on your shoulder for reassurance. You couldn’t be more grateful for a friend like Chrissy. You really don’t know where you would be if it weren’t for her. Probably crying in every possible corner Hawkins had to give.
“Will you two stop being lazy asses and get the drinks from inside?” Steve yelled and you just rolled your eyes, while Chrissy flipped him off, Robin and Nancy laughing while putting up some balloons and preparing the music. You and your best friend walked inside to get the glasses and the sodas for the night.
“He seriously needs to stop acting like a mother.” You groaned as you piled up the red cups in your hands, hearing Chrissy snorting behind you as she took the sodas out of the fridge.
“And yet–” And she suddenly went silent. You started hearing cheering from outside and you shut your eyes very tight, wincing slightly at the impending pain that your heart will feel at seeing him. You could already hear his electric voice, all enthusiastic and happy, and it made your heart jump three feet up.
You heard your name being called by Chrissy and it made you open your eyes so you could take a deep breath in, slowly turning around to finally look out the window to see him, your breath being knocked out in one single glance.
His hair, tied in a bun, scruff on his chin and jaw, curls falling on the sides of his face as he hugged Dustin tightly, swirling him around while the rest of the band greeted everyone else. You didn’t want to be a bitch to the other three, but your eyes could only see Eddie. Only Eddie. A tight tank top with ripped sleeves reveals tattoos that linger across his arms and hands. Black ripped jeans with chains hanging from his waist, and a piercing on his nose, a hoop that glistened with the orange hue of the sunset.
You took a deep breath trying to calm your accelerating heart, trying to not let the blood go all the way to your cheeks, to your body, as you looked at him. It’s not like when you two talk on video calls, it cannot compare.
Chrissy cleared her throat, making you snap out, looking at him with a wild look on your face. She chuckled softly as she walked outside and you immediately heard Eddie cheerfully yell her name, and she was yelling to be careful with the bottles in her hands.
“You can do this… You can definitely do this. Just keep pretending, everything will be okay.” This was always what you told yourself before seeing him in person. Even at school. You often wondered if you would ever stop these feelings of yours, but even if there was a possibility of them stopping, how do you reach that?
You took another deep breath, getting hold of the stack of red cups you had bought for today, and you rolled your shoulders, once, twice, and finally stepped out into the garden. His back was towards you, so it gave you time to put the cups on the table as you looked at the back of his head. He was talking with Jonathan as Dustin walked over to hand him a beer.
You could hear his laughter, and you wanted to stay there, yet you also wanted to run away. So far away. But you couldn’t do that now, not when Dustin told Eddie something and then pointed towards you, making him turn around and his brown eyes finally caught onto yours.
Every thought of running away evaporated because that’s what Eddie does to you. He turns you into putty, into his slave, into a submissive prey that will do whatever he commands. Just with him looking at you, and flashing a smile your way as his eyes light up with yours. A smile was immediately drawn to your lips, not pretending, because you loved him, and you didn’t have to pretend to be happy to see him.
Because you were. Extremely so.
He handed the beer to Dustin in a quick manner as he started rushing towards you, making your legs work as well, meeting him halfway in order for his arms to open wide as his smile worked all the way up, face lighting up as he sees you, and you just can’t help the extreme happiness that invades you and fills you the moment he wraps his arms around your frame.
His perfume, his scent, the smell of the shampoo of his hair, everything was engulfing you as well as his hands pressing all over your back, while your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your nose digging into the crook of his neck. He chuckles when he feels your breath on his skin, and you are unaware of the shiver that runs through his spine at the feel of it.
He pulled away with a grin on his face, and that’s when he finally took notice of how you had a different hair color, you two had talked through video call two weeks ago, so it was a very recent change. He straightened up to grab hold of one strand as he raised a playful eyebrow up.
“A new style, Kitty?”
That damn nickname. It stuck to you when Eddie and you had a school show back in middle school, and he was spared from acting, but you were disguised as a black cat. He made fun of you, of course, but that’s what made you two grow close to one another.
You fought the heat that was rising up on your cheeks as you giggled and looked down to the floor, giving him a short nod.
“Yeah, wanted to try something new.” He gave a nod to you and you raised your head up to look back to his eyes once more. He was looking at you with fondness as if you were the only light in his path at the moment.
“You look beautiful.”
It wasn’t the first time Eddie complimented you, but it wasn’t easier each time he did it. Your heart always leaped at his comments, always raising a little bit of hope inside of you that you didn’t know if it was healthy or not. He was just your best friend, and your fantasies are just that. Fantasies.
“T-Thanks Eds… I hope this whole rockstar career didn’t make you a wuss with alcohol.” You tried to lighten the moment and it worked as he laughed wholeheartedly at you, shaking his head.
“You are not going to beat me at chugging beer. Last time you almost puked!”
“We’ll see.”
You did not win. You just wanted to see him have fun and laugh as the foam of the beer got out of your nose as you choked on the drink.
It was a nice night, warm, and the buzz of the alcohol was not too great, just enough to feel funny but conscious. It was nice having Eddie here, and you could notice it around the whole group. Dustin couldn’t stop nerding with him about DnD, and Robin was telling him about how she managed to get Chrissy on a date.
You were laughing with Mike as he explained to you how Nancy almost caught him and Will in the closet and you couldn’t help but wince because you still saw these two boys as little teenagers, and it was weird imagining them in this situation.
But it seems someone was bored.
“Now that we are older, can you PLEASE play Never Have I ever with us!?” Everyone’s gazes turned to the redhead that had the beer in her hand, moving it from side to side and everyone couldn’t help but burst out in laughter because ever since these kids tried alcohol at the age of fifteen, they’ve been trying to play these games with all the grown-ups.
“Okay, you guys are old enough. I don’t want any ews, or ahs, okay?” Steve replied and Dustin rolled his eyes at him.
“Same goes for you, Steve.”
And yeah, he was right, because it was going to be weird listening to these kids talk about their experiences with all of you. But whatever, Eddie doesn’t come often, might as well have fun with it.
You all sat around, and you were in between Chrissy and Jonathan while Eddie sat at front in between Robin and Dustin. Max cleared her throat, signaling that she was about to start, and all of you tried to stop the giggling at the whole situation.
“I’ll start. Never have I ever… kissed someone of the same sex.”
Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Lucas, and you didn’t drink. Everyone else did. You knew Eddie had kissed guys before, experimenting. The one that everyone turned to look at though, was Steve.
“Seriously Harrington?” Eddie asked, completely surprised and you snorted into your beer as Steve looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
“What? I never had the curiosity.” Eddie shrugged and took a sip of his beer as Robin came next.
“Okay, okay… Never have I ever… done harder drugs than weed.”
“Low blow Buckley.” Eddie said as he took a sip of his drink, Jonathan followed right behind, making Will look at him with his mouth wide open.
“What!?” Will yelled at his brother, who only laughed as he wiped his mouth.
“My best friend is Argyle, what do you expect?” And Will only rolled his eyes as Mike chuckled and patted his boyfriend’s shoulder to calm him down. You cleared your throat as you knew that Eddie had tried many things thanks to the connections he now has with the famous environment he is in.
You remember when he once video-called you telling you he felt like shit because he took two lines of coke for the very first time. One would think that an ex-dealer would have tried stronger things, but not Eddie. He never was fond of them, yet, he felt pressured to do so that night.
“Okay, my turn. Never have I ever… puked all over a friend.” And the bastard wiggled his eyebrows your way, and you cussed at him on the low, taking a sip of your drink, as well as Robin with an embarrassed look on her face while Steve winced in disgust.
“Not fair Eddie.” You whined at him and he could only laugh. It was the first time you’d ever gotten drunk, and it took two glasses of fireball and coke for you to barf all over your best friend as he tried to get you out of the party. It was humiliating, yet Eddie held you tight and reassured you that everything was okay.
He took care of you the whole morning afterwards, telling your mom that you crashed at his place because you were tired, even if his place and yours were five minutes away.
“My turn.” Dustin said with a smug look on his face and Steve took a sharp intake of breath, and you could only groan. “I didn’t even say anything.”
“C’mon Henderson, what do you want to know?” Chrissy laughed as she saw Robin rolling her eyes at her but with a small smile on her lips. Dustin smirked and straightened up.
“Never have I ever slept with anyone in this circle.”
Will and Mike groaned as they took sips of their own drinks, same as Max as she flipped Dustin off and Lucas laughing while shaking his head. Jonathan and Nancy also took sips of their drinks, Steve, as well, Robin and Chrissy…
And you.
Causing everyone to look at you in disbelief.
“What?” Your best friend said with a mocking laugh, thinking you were lying, but another person winced in the circle as Dustin let out a victorious laugh, raising his fist up with a pump.
“I FUCKING KNEW IT!”
“Dustin.” You groaned as you clenched your eyes tightly and Dustin shook his head, while everyone looked at him.
“No, I was right, and you two fucking lied about it!” He screamed and Eddie was looking back and forth between you and Dustin, not knowing what was going on.
“You two?” Jonathan asked and then, everyone’s eyes turned to one of the single males in the group who had his hand running in his hair with an exasperated sigh.
“Yeah Dustin, we lied.” Steve finally responded.
Everyone, except for Dustin remained silent as the curly-headed guy let out a scoff with a shake of his head.
“And you thought I wouldn’t figure it out.” He said with a smug look on his face and you couldn’t even look up from embarrassment, but a voice made you snap out to finally make you talk.
“Kitty?”
Shit.
“When did this happen?” Robin asked in disbelief and you sighed, finally looking up from your glass, trying to not look at your best friend who was piercing his gaze through your skull, making a shiver run down your spine.
“A month ago.” Everyone almost screamed at the confession and you sighed with a roll of your eyes.
“HOW!?” Mike now asked and Steve cleared his throat, a chuckle then escaping his mouth.
“We were drunk… blasted off drunk.” Eddie’s mouth was on the floor right now, and you could see the betrayal that was slowly plastering on his face, making you wince inwardly. You didn’t tell him. You didn’t want to tell him, and now he knew, and you felt the lump of guilt forming inside your throat and guts.
“Wait, was it after the barbeque?” Will asked this time and Dustin chuckled with a nod to his head, making you and Steve glare at him.
“Yep. I forgot my phone, and imagine my surprise when I heard moaning throughout the house and her car was still parked outside.” Everyone except for three people gasped at the situation, making Dustin proud of his discovery. “Steve told me it was another girl while she slept in his parent’s bed.”
“It was believable.” Steve retorted, making you scoff at that.
“It was fucking dumb Steve.” At your response, everyone’s heads snapped at you while Steve looked at you with an offended frown on his eyebrows.
“It wasn’t! He is just too nosy! And let me remind you, you jumped my bones first.” Gasps and whistles were now heard in your circle of friends as your mouth dropped to the floor, looking at Steve with anger in your face.
“I did not! You were the one who started it!” And to be honest, you could hardly remember that night, you were depressed and angry, and Steve was pent up. That’s all it was.
“Okay, I don’t remember who did, we’ll just say we are both to blame.” Steve raised his cup up towards you with a sheepish smile on his face, making you roll your own, but a smile was on your lips as you raised your cup as well and took a sip from it.
“Well, that’s something I didn’t know.” You almost choked as you looked towards your best friend after the confession you blurted out. He had a piercing gaze towards your way, a glare, anger behind his eyes with his arms crossed over his chest. The air immediately tensed and you weren’t the only one who felt it.
Everyone else was looking somewhere else than in between the two of you. You knew you were in the wrong for not telling him anything, but you really didn’t want him to know about it. It was a one-time thing that would never happen again, so you really didn’t see the need to do so.
Steve also noticed the tense air, clearing his throat to talk once more.
“Okay, my turn, right?”
And the game went on, but not with the same cheery atmosphere as before. You were quiet, and Eddie was angry, passing on his turn whenever he had to say something. You barely included yourself in the game, your mind racing with nervousness and guilt from not telling your best friend you slept with Steve.
Once everyone finally decided the night was done, you helped Robin and Chrissy try to tidy up Steve’s kitchen the best you could. You didn’t want to face Eddie, the alcohol in your system was long gone thanks to the dread of facing him alone at some point in the week. You were washing the cups as Robin and Chrissy started giggling and you sent them a wink as they rushed out and up the stairs to one of Steve’s rooms.
“So they left you on cleaning duty.” Steve entered the kitchen with empty bottles with a groan as he threw them in the trash. You giggled and shrugged, finishing to wash the last cup.
“They are in their honeymoon phase, let them be.” You turned off the water from the sink as you felt Steve stand next to you with his arms over his chest.
“But chicks stain sheets, and I really don’t want to hear them having sex. Why can’t they go to one of their houses?” You rolled your eyes as you dried your hands with one of the hand towels that was hanging from the oven’s handle.
“Put some headphones on, suck it up like a man.” You giggled and he followed with a chuckle only for the two of you to be interrupted by a clear of throat and some keys jingling.
“Sorry to interrupt. Let’s go home.” Eddie was leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, swinging his keys around his middle finger with a piercing gaze thrown your way. You looked at him in complete confusion, tilting your head.
“I– I came with my car–”
“Let’s go home.” It was stern, angry, and fed up. It was a command. He wanted to talk, and you knew that. Your heart hammered in your chest as you sighed, giving Steve a look and he gave you a reassuring nod with a worried frown.
“You’ll pick up your car tomorrow.” The brown-haired man said as the rockstar rolled his eyes, walking out of the kitchen. You gave Steve one last look before following Eddie out and then towards the front door.
The black matte Jeep Wrangler standing at the front in all of its glory, and it sometimes makes you miss his old van. The one the both of you smoked weed in between school periods, after school, and on the weekends. The one where you laid at the top to star gaze, completely high off your minds.
You heard a click, snapping you out as you saw him lighting a cigarette while walking, opening the passenger’s door for you, but not waiting for you to get in. He rounded the car to go into the driver’s seat, making you gulp thanks to your nervousness, not knowing where the night was headed.
You slowly got inside the car, closed the door, and buckled your seatbelt properly, trying to keep your heart out of your throat as it threatened to come out. His eyes were unreadable as they stared forward, making the engine of the car roar as he rolled the window down for the smoke to leave the interior.
And then, it was quiet. Not even music was on.
He was driving, one hand gripped on the wheel while the other stuck out of the window with the cigarette in between his fingers. You didn’t know where to look or what to do as you played with your fingers on top of your lap, looking out the window.
What were you supposed to say? Should you wait for him to say something? Or is he waiting for you? Is he waiting for a sign so he can start talking? You don’t understand why the air is so tense between the two of you, it’s not like you murdered someone, it was just–
What–
“Hang on, are you not taking me home?” You asked as you looked at the exit that would take you to your apartment complex. You received no response, making you look at him who was still looking ahead of the road, flicking the cigarette out the window as his other one clenched onto the wheel.
You knew where he was taking you, back to his apartment in Indianapolis. It wasn’t a long ride, but it was half an hour away, meaning you would have to stay silent for the whole ride, and it was making your gut turn uncomfortably.
Eddie and you never fought, and you for sure never received this kind of treatment from him. The only time you can remember something like this happened, was back in middle school when you didn’t tell him you had your first kiss with Richard Pax. It was in spin the bottle, and you were embarrassed about it.
He didn’t talk to you for a whole week until he saw you crying and understood that you were just ashamed of it, and you couldn’t even face Richard for how nervous you were. Eddie apologized to you, and held your hand afterwards, telling you to not consider that your first kiss, that it should be special and one you wanted.
You could feel your phone pinging, and you looked down to see Steve messaging you if you were okay, that Eddie didn’t look happy at all. You sighed as you opened your messages to type a reply back only to get a scoff from your partner inside the car.
“You’re with me right now, at least put the phone down.” Your eyebrows pinched together at that answer, looking at him as anger started rising up inside of you.
“You’re not even talking to me, you have no right to ask anything from me right now.”
“Mmm.”
The air was now filled with anger, you could feel it because you were the one enraged now. Who did he think he was? Acting pissed just cause you didn’t tell him one thing? You were betting he didn’t tell you many things that he does at the parties he attends or the tours he does with his bands.
Hypocrite.
You texted Steve back, aiming the screen away from Eddie’s gaze.
And that’s how the thirty minutes passed by till Eddie finally got the jeep inside the underground parking lot of his building. You unbuckle your seatbelt, stepping out of the car at the same time Eddie did. The doors slamming echoed all over the immense space as Eddie headed towards the elevator, pressing the button to call it down.
You were angry, nervous, anxious, confused, not understanding why Eddie was acting this way at all. You couldn’t even look at him as the elevator finally reached the floor, and he got in. You hesitated for a few seconds, but it was no use as he held the doors open with his broad hand.
You stepped in, and he pressed his floor, the metal doors closing in front of you. The small space was suffocating you. You could hear his angry and heavy breathing. Maybe you can play it off with a joke or something. Make the air a little lighter, trying to make the tense moment go away, but the distant look in his eyes made you think twice about that.
You were fidgeting in your place with your purse in your hands. The elevator kept going up until it reached the penthouse at the top. It was over the top, but someone who didn’t have anything growing up, wants the best of the best when he has the opportunity to do so. So Eddie wanted the best of the building of course.
The elevator doors opened and he walked out first, walking towards the double doors of his home, typing in the password in his security lock. You heard the beeping of the numbers being punched in, and you groaned, walking out of the elevator as he opened the front door of his home.
You walked in right after him, taking in the scent of his cologne as he walked further in. You closed the door behind you and it automatically locked in place. It wasn’t that big of a penthouse, not really, and he filled it with his own stuff, his mugs, his records, his guitars. It was Eddie, even if it’s not the trailer back at Hawkins.
You waited for him to talk, only to see him walking away towards the hallway, going towards his bedroom, making you frown in anger. You followed him, stomping next to the couch where you dropped your purse, not caring for it anymore.
He was in front of his king-sized bed with black covers, taking his jacket off, not giving you a second glance. You clenched your jaw at how immature he was, all because you didn’t tell him one thing in your life. Just one.
“Are you gonna talk to me now, or are you going to keep being a little child?” His mouth dropped at your words as if he couldn’t believe you were talking to him that way. He slowly looked up at you, standing in the doorway of his room with your arms crossed over your chest.
“Me? Why don’t you talk sweetheart? Why didn’t you tell me about you and Stevie?” And your anger started bubbling up again.
“Why does it matter!? I was drunk! And it was a while ago!” You answered as you waved your arms around in exclamation.
“It matters cause you are my best friend, and you didn’t tell me you slept with one of our friends! It’s important shit!” Okay, you could see a little bit as to why he would be mad at you. The difference as to why you would not get mad at him for not telling you stuff like this, was because you would end up hurt if he did.
But he doesn’t end up hurt, because he doesn’t feel the same as you do.
“Eddie–”
“And with Steve! Why the fuck did it have to be him!?” Now this part, you didn’t understand.
“Why does it matter if it was with Steve?” He was pacing now, and you couldn’t help but feel confused by his attitude. Why is he so agitated over this? You didn’t tell him you slept with Steve, while drunk off your mind, big deal. He let out a scoff as his hands ran through his face, completely pissed, his nose flaring as he breathed heavily.
“Fuck Kitty, it’s not fucking fair!” You could see his hands shaking as he grunted at each step, and you were now worried. Did you do something you didn’t have to do? Was there something you didn’t know about Eddie and Steve? Some kind of pact or something of the sort? Did you mess up the friendship?
“What’s not fair!? Eddie, you are not making any fucking sense, and–” Your words were cut off as two strong hands held onto your cheeks, and your best friend’s face was inches away from you as he talked through his teeth.
“It is not fair he got to have you like that. It is not fair he had the chance of having you first. It is not fair he got what I’ve been wanting, for fucking years.”
And your words were knocked out of your lungs, as well as your air.
There was no way he said that.
Because why would he?
But he just did, didn’t he? You weren’t deaf, you heard it–
“What?” Your voice was so small, and Eddie noticed, wincing slightly as he pulled away from you, letting go of your face and you immediately realized you spoke, and that he might have taken it as rejection but– what is going on?
You were frozen in your place, looking at how he backed away, running his hands all over his face as he started pacing back and forth, not even glancing at you as he took a few breaths in. You on the other hand, felt your heart in your throat, beating constantly, furiously, feeling as if you were going to pop a vein here and there for how strong you felt the pumping of your own blood course through your whole body.
You saw how he started to slow down his pacing, standing in one place, a meter or two away from you, and his eyes found yours. You could feel fear, sadness, and embarrassment in those eyes, all in one place, in those irises.
“I– I really didn’t want to do this… this way…” He scoffed at his own words and shook his head with a fake chuckle on his lips. “Fuck, I didn’t even know I was ever going to do this.”
You were just speechless, feeling your eyes burning because it all led to what is obvious… But he never showed it in his life, so you don’t understand, it is not processing in your head as it should.
“Do… what?” It was a choked whisper, the best one you could master at this moment because your throat was just closed up, non-working. Your brain was a jumbled mess as it tried to put a puzzle together that you never thought was there to begin with.
His eyes darted towards you and then out the window as he licked his lips, thinking about his next words carefully.
“You– You are my best friend… The fear of losing you is greater than any other feeling I hold inside.” He was struggling, you noticed the nervousness, the twitching of the tip of his fingers as he scratched his cheek.
“You won’t–”
“You can’t say I won’t lose you. I say these three words, and I won’t be able to go back, and you won’t be able to either. I’ve been holding them back for ten years, I can keep going if it means I get to keep you.”
Three words. Three. Are those the same three words you hold dear? Those three words you’ve been fighting against for so many years? Three simple words but yet that can cause so much pain if you don’t receive them back?
Could it be?
Your mouth opened and closed, and you felt a tear rolling down your cheek, it was inevitable, and you saw how Eddie’s shoulder slumped down, his eyebrows knitting together in the middle in a frown. Sadness.
You had to speak. You have to fight the thrumming of your heart and the warning signs your brain is throwing your way to stop you. But Eddie and you already share one feeling. Fear. So what if there are other feelings you both share? Equal feelings?
“S-Say those words…” You pushed, you needed to make sure, you needed to hear them, you needed that happiness you never thought you would get with him. He shook his head once and twice, biting the inside of his cheek.
“No. I won’t. I can’t lose you Kitty… I can’t.” Your heart was ablaze because of nerves, of impatience, and of hope. You took a shaky breath in, your fist clenching and unclenching in order to hold back your own words.
“I– Please say them…” And as Eddie looked at you, you could see how his features softened and relaxed into a surprised expression, as if looking at you let him solve a riddle in his head. His adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he looked at you, swallowing, and you felt your bottom lip trembling, your eyes burning, your body almost shaking with anticipation.
You saw how his chest moved up and down in a quick manner, giving away how heavy his breathing turned. Your eyes were connected to his, trying to let him know, trying to make him have that courage to make the first step you are not confident enough to take. And then his shoulders relaxed, his features doing the exact same, and as he looked at you with glossy eyes, he opened his mouth to finally take the leap.
“I love you.”
Silence overtook the two of you as the words sank. He loves you, and not as a friend. He loves you as a woman. He loves you as a partner. He loves you as much as you love him. He loves you. He loves you.
A sob ripped from your chest and you slammed your hand on your mouth, feeling new tears streaming down your face, but a smile was hiding behind your palm as you choked on another sob. Eddie’s face turned into a worried one as he took a step towards you, his hands ready to reach out for you and then you started giggling.
You couldn’t believe this. Were you that blind? Were you this stupid? Or maybe it was the two of you? Why were you the only one to blame when he also held these feelings for so long? You’re best friends for a reason, and this is the greatest example of it all. Pining for eachother since teenagers, evolving into love, and never giving any hints of it to one another. Not even flirty compliments, or insinuations.
You couldn’t help yourself as you kept giggling, eyes closed as one hand was over your mouth while the other gripped your stomach. Eddie was absolutely worried now, thinking you were losing your mind. All these years, you two could have done something about your feelings, but your insecurities fucked up your brains because, if it hadn’t, maybe one of you would have noticed something.
“This is so fucking stupid!” You yelled out loud, still laughing and Eddie only frowned as he straightened up, his arms crossing over his chest.
“Nice to know my love for you is stupid.” That made you stop laughing, only to look at his pissed-off frown and for you to burst into laughter again. The tears never stopped coming down, feeling your heart flying into the sky as you also felt the need to bang your head against a wall, repeatedly.
“I– I promise it’s not that!” You were trying to calm down, taking deep breaths in and out as you kept watching him. He wasn’t laughing, just staring at you with a hint of sadness, anger, and confusion. All together, which only prompted you to snort, another laugh threatening to come out. You raised your hand up to stop Eddie from lashing out. “Sorry!”
“Sorry? I confess my love to you and you laugh in my face. Do you even know how hurtful and disrespectful that is?” You could feel his words holding some truth, but you knew he was also finding the situation kind of comical. You waved your hands in front of you, small giggles escaping you still.
“You don’t understand, I can’t believe we are this stupid.” You snorted at the word and Eddie’s arms uncrossed, tilting his head to the side in wonder, an eyebrow raised up in question.
“Why are we stupid?” And you couldn’t help but start laughing again as new tears rolled down your cheeks, happiness just exploding from every part of your body.
“I mean, we were in love with eachother all these years, and we never knew? We really are fucking stupid Eds!” Your giggles stopped after those words came out of your mouth. Your eyes slowly found his as a ringing in your ears started being really loud, almost hurting you. His eyes were wide, incredulous, his arms dangling on the sides of his body.
“You– You’re in love with me?” His mouth was agape, staring at you with a perplexed expression as you felt your heart about to combust, only for him to start cracking up as well, slamming his hands over his face, his laughter bouncing on every wall of the room, and you couldn’t help but join him in it.
You both now know you are idiots, absolute fucking morons and you cannot believe you wasted all this time being only friends when you could have been more. The feelings were one and the same. The jealousy. The anger. The hopelessness. The yearning. The happiness. The need. The love.
He let his hands drop from his face, a last shake of his head as he looked back at you. Your giggles slowly stopped, and you wiped the tears away from your eyes. This was real now. This was happening for you, for him, for your future. He took a step forward and the nerves were back all together.
“Can’t believe we didn’t see it at all… I– honestly didn’t think I would ever have a chance after you signed that contract Eds…” You averted your gaze towards the floor as you took various breaths in, trying to control yourself again, center your mind back into reality, and push the shock away. He sighed at that, shaking his head once more even if you didn’t see him.
“I never thought I had a chance. I just thought and still think you are way too good for me sweetheart…” He cleared his throat as you frowned at that and looked up at him to hear him better. “I honestly… I had a bit of hope when I signed the contract. I thought I would finally be– good for you.”
Your heart stopped and sunk into a deep sea, going to the darkest bits. Eddie felt that way with you? That he wasn’t good enough for you? That he had to be someone else in order to feel that he had a chance with you?
“Ed–Eddie, I didn’t care for that… I still don’t– I thought that you were the one out of reach… I– What chance would I have had with a rockstar that–” You didn’t want to finish that phrase. It was too embarrassing, but how could you not? How could you not compare yourself to all the women Eddie had after signing that contract? The models, the singers, the influencers… It was impossible not to do so.
He seemed to realize the doubt on your face because his features softened as he took a step closer to you, the tips of your shoes touching as he stood right before you. He scratched his cheek as he tried to find the next words.
“Well… we aren’t out of reach anymore… are we?” And your eyes found his, your heart in your throat as he licked his lips and you knew what was supposed to happen now. But–
“What if it’s weird?” He blinked two times before tilting his head and you wanted to drown in embarrassment.
“What would be weird?” His voice was a tone lower than before and it made you tremble a little, goosebumps rising on your skin.
“Well– We know eachother since we were ten… What if you find it weird to kiss me?” And it almost looked like Eddie could not believe what you were saying.
“Sweetheart… I’ve been dying to kiss you since I can even remember.” You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks burn up, looking down with a small smile on your face. He bit his bottom lip and cleared his throat, making you look up at him once more. “We’ll just see where it goes, how about that?”
You were afraid of that because what if it really happened that he would back out cause he felt it too weird for him? Or what if you weren’t of his expectations? What if you let him down? But you would never know unless–
“Okay…” The word ‘nervous’ runs a little short of what you were feeling. You had your own expectations of this moment, but you knew he would fill every single one of them and exceed them. Now for you? You weren’t so sure.
“Trust me Kitty…” He gave you a nervous, yet charming smile as he finally invaded your space and leaned. You closed your eyes and waited, feeling your whole body about to collapse. You expected his lips on your lips, but you felt them on your cheek. You opened your eyes with confusion plastered in them to see Eddie grinning.
“Eds…?”
“Weird?” You giggled at that, feeling your nerves slowly leaving you.
“Nope.” He smiled as he guided his lips towards your other cheek, placing another kiss there. You two have shared kisses on the face before. Cheeks, foreheads, nose… All innocent, and now, the kisses had a completely different meaning.
“How about that?” You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head, and your heart was already thrumming with impatience instead of nerves. His smile faltered a bit but it never left as he finally leaned towards your lips. You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes at the same time he closed his.
And finally, your lips touched for the very first time.
It was small, nervous, testing, but it still sent an electric shock down both of your bodies. Simultaneously. Your lips fit perfectly against his, and it felt right. It felt so right. He pulled away too soon, but his lips hovered over yours as he opened his eyes to look at you. You looked at him through your lashes.
“Not weird…” You mumbled and he only hummed, his own heart exploding. He tilted his head to the other side and pressed his lips against yours again, this time a little firmer than before. You felt your body craving to wrap itself around him, but you two were testing this new development. You had to be patient, but from the looks of it, it seemed Eddie was also enjoying it like you were.
And there was no lie in that because Eddie felt like he was combusting from how much he felt his body flush. He felt sweat on his fingertips and he just wanted to hold you in his arms, but just like yourself, he needed your green light. He slowly pulled away from that peck, a soft smack being heard in the room as you two looked at eachother again.
“Weird?” He asked in a whisper, and you shook your head desperately as you felt your eyes becoming glossy with need as you looked at him.
And he dove in. This kiss was harder, deeper, and his hands finally reached out to hold your waist, pulling you closer, and you responded by raising your arms in order to wrap them around his neck, flushing your chest against his, and finally, your lips moved against eachother’s, and it felt magical.
It felt like that puzzle piece you thought you would never find, but it was hidden in a very small corner, underneath a carpet. His arms wrapped around you, one palm on the small of your back and the other right in the middle. You felt how hot your body was getting but you couldn’t stop yourself, needing more and more from him.
He deepened the kiss even more, pressing you into him, wanting to feel more of you. Your heads moved from side to side, and he was going to be greedy and ask for more. His tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, making your heart jump and a small gasp escaped your throat, but you opened your mouth to welcome him in.
And you two sighed in pleasure as your tongues clashed together, having a taste of eachother for the first time. You tasted like strawberries and beer thanks to your lipgloss, mints, and the alcohol you two had earlier in the night. He tasted like you always imagined he would. Tobacco, and this kind of minty taste that must be from the flavor sphere inside the filters of his cigarettes. Beer was also mixed in, and one of your hands couldn’t help but scratch the back of his neck for more grip, making him groan into the kiss.
You were surprised by the noise, but a moan escaped your mouth and into his as your breasts rubbed against his chest and his tongue danced with yours. You felt yourself sweating with anticipation, the track of time disappearing as you two melted more and more into eachother, but air was soon needed and you two broke apart, panting onto one another’s lips. His eyes were staring into yours and he gulped as he spoke again.
“Told you. Not weird.” He sounded breathless, and you could feel his heart thrumming in his chest, in fact, you didn’t even know if it was yours. You chased his lips and gave him a soft peck, your eyes half-lidded in bliss. He gave you a cheeky smile as he talked in a low voice. “Already can’t get enough of me Kitty?”
You were flustered, burning, but you wanted to show him how much you wanted him. So you kissed him again, deep, long, and slow. It was loving and filled with the emotions you wanted to shower him with for the past ten years. You pulled away with a small smile on your face as he stared at you, a little taken aback.
“Never going to get enough of you.” And you could see your best friend, this insane rockstar, blushing a deep red on his cheeks and you couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re red!”
His cheeks lose the color, just slightly, and his eyes squint at you, annoyance displayed in his features. Your smile fell down and before you could even speak, he bent down slightly in order to hook his arm around your waist and throw you over his shoulder as he stood up again. You screamed at that movement, your legs flailing a little bit as he walked towards his room.
“Cocky little shit.” He chuckled and in just one minute you were facing the floor, the other you were facing the ceiling as his mattress hit your back, making you bounce slightly. You felt butterflies flying all around inside your stomach as you raised yourself on your elbows in order to look at him.
His eyes were dark as he scanned your body, the dress you were wearing hitched up a bit on the middle of your thighs and before you could say anything, he leaned forward to help you take your sandals off. His fingers grazed your ankles and a shiver ran from your calf to the top of your head. You saw how he took each boot off with the help of the tips on the heels. He looked at you and then finally got on the bed, crawling on all fours on top of you, prompting you to lean back onto the bed.
Your breathing was fast as you looked up at him. Those brown eyes that have been with you since kids, and now, those eyes were looking at you with hunger, but was it really new? He leaned his body down, a bit closer, still not wanting to press his chest nor hips against yours.
“Kitty… We don’t have to do anything–” And you cut him off there with a shake of your head. He might have gotten the wrong idea because of your possible shocked facial expression.
“No, no… I– I want to…” He tilted his head with doubt as he inspected your face which only became hotter and hotter at the intense stare.
“You don’t sound too sure. We don’t have to do this now–”
“Eddie, I want to… God, I want to– I mean, have you seen you? I have a hidden maxi-size poster of your half-naked rolling stone cover just because your pelvis showed…” He snorted at your bluntness but seriously, it was the hottest you’ve seen Eddie look. The V shape with the happy trail going downwards, just where the edge of the cover ended was enough to make you have so many fantasies in the lapse of a minute.
“Alright. Good to know… So, is it just nerves? Cause, I am nervous too… I mean, it’s you… I built this up in my head a thousand times and it’s finally here and honestly? I am kind of afraid of busting in my pants.” You giggled at that, wholeheartedly too and he just kept smiling at you, brushing some hair off your face. You stopped laughing and gulped as shame crept all over your body.
You can trust him. It’s Eddie, and he loves you… He will understand you, there’s no need to be scared. The nervousness and anxiety of laying yourself out there to him didn’t calm itself down though, but you had to reassure him that it wasn’t him at all, nor the fear of it being weird.
“I– I just… do you mind… having the lights off?”
And that seemed to throw Eddie back. His eyebrows came to the middle in a confused frown as he looked down at you, trying to understand you. You looked away from him and you felt your eyes glossing over as more embarrassment came over your body.
“Kitty, I– Why do you want them off?” He will respect you, always, but he wants the answer out of your lips to make sure he hadn’t done anything to make you think he didn’t think you were at least pretty, but he always complimented you. Obviously, friendly compliments, not telling you the actual amount of things he wanted to say to you.
“Um… I– Well… um… I am different from all the– flings you had in the past two years…” You couldn’t look at him. You sounded so stupid, so little, but you had to be honest with him. You don’t want to have a terrified look on your face just because you pushed yourself to do it with the lights on. Eddie blinked a few times, his head shaking softly.
“Come again?” You cleared your throat, feeling as if it were closing up slowly. You have no smooth skin or toned body.
Adiposities, cellulite, stretchmarks, stretched skin, textured in every place you could look at.
“I’m… nothing like those girls– those bodies, I don’t–” You didn’t want him to look at your body. You aren’t insecure, not always… but you know who Eddie slept with, and the insecurity with him is on another kind of level.
Eddie was stunned as he looked down at you. You compared yourself… and maybe all this time you had been doing so, and he never noticed. Were you hurting in some kind of way? Was he the reason you weren’t confident enough to talk to him about your feelings towards him?
You gulped as you looked at him when you didn’t receive any answer. He seemed concerned, deep in thought, and you wondered if you had already driven him away with just your mere words. You opened your mouth to talk but he was faster.
“You think you are inferior to them?” His eyes were filled with confusion and some type of sadness, making you frown with worry, but he kept talking before you could even ask. “Sweetheart… Kitty, oh my god…”
You blinked a few times, trying to understand his facial expressions that were changing every second. From angry, to confused, to incredulous, to sad… you weren’t understanding what was going through his head.
“What is it?”
“What is it? Fuck… I don’t want to be blunt, but I feel like if I’m not you won’t understand one single bit of what’s going on in my head so…” He cleared his throat as a blush spread on his cheeks while looking down at you. “You have no idea how many times I popped a boner with you.”
That was not something you expected to hear, not right now, and certainly not from him.
“What?” He groaned followed by a sigh as he kept hovering over your body. You could feel the heat of his body radiating towards yours, and you could feel your blood rushing to your face, or probably your head.
“What I said. I popped a boner many times, even when we were at your house watching Sleepaway Camp and you had those pajamas on that had kittens all over… I covered my crotch with a pillow.” He chuckled to hide his nervousness but your mind was still trying to work out what he was saying.
“I– Pajamas?” He looked into your eyes and he gave you one slow nod.
“And don’t let me get started on the pool parties. One piece, two piece… Even when you didn’t even take anything off, and fuck– This sundress? I had to tuck myself when a little bit of wind helped me see the back of your thighs… Just the back of your thighs darling!” He was exasperated now, his eyes wild as he rambled but your mind had shut off.
You? You got him worked up? Today? And before? Even when in the most clothed situations? He looked your way?
“Really…?” Your voice came out smaller than what you intended but you couldn’t help it. You were feeling emotional, this revelation trying to sit in your brain as it tried to push the possibility of Eddie actually being attracted to you after the women he’s been with away. His eyes softened and he moved a hand towards your cheek to caress it in a soft manner.
“Really. You drive me absolutely insane…” His eyes turned slightly darker and you noticed the air around the two of you change, shift into something that made you feel a little light-headed. “Will you let me show you just how insane you make me?”
And your body went limp at his question, a hunger in the eyes of your best friend that you never thought would ever be directed to you.
But maybe those eyes were always there, just not when you were looking. Glances he stole at you at prom after picking you up himself and going together. His eyes scanning your body when you appeared in a long shimmery dress for one of his first award shows, something that made people speculate you two were dating, but then the paparazzis did their job to dismiss that.
Feelings mixed with pure desire and lust that felt wrong to even experience. He watched you become a woman right before his own eyes, growing up together, graduating together after two failed attempts on Eddie’s part, and even with the different future paths, you a veterinarian and he a rockstar, you never lost touch.
But now… now there is no need to feel guilt. No restraints because the line was already crossed.
So you gave him a slow nod despite the nervous look on your face. Is there a possibility for Eddie to want you just as much as he says he does? More than Megan Fox? Than that chick from that rock band that opened his shows and that is exactly like him and a better match? How is there even a chance?
Your thoughts came to a halt as you felt his face lowering in order to take your lips with his, your mind short circuiting as the kiss wasn’t shy at all like the previous one. It was instantly deep, passionate, and desperate. Teeth almost knocking with eachother as your heads moved from side to side, your arms wrapping around his shoulders wanting to feel him closer.
He chuckled into the kiss, and he pulled away with a soft smack of the lips, a confused whimper escaping your lips to then gasping when his head ducked even further and his kiss was now on your neck, on your pulse point.
“You have no idea how much I have wanted to mark you. All the guys that flirted with you, or were your hookups… I just wanted to mark your neck so that they would back off.” He mumbled on your neck and your eyes widened at that, your thighs rubbing against eachother below him for some friction.
And you would be lying if you didn’t think of doing the same. The roaring of the word ‘MINE’ whenever a girl got close to Eddie back in school was insanely big inside your head. But as the years went by, that voice only got softer, slower, until he told you the first fling he had after the contract was signed. That voice said a few last words before disappearing, ‘Maybe he is not mine, and never will be.’.
But now– It’s back, and stronger than ever.
“Then mark me Eds… But–” And it was risky, but you wanted it, you needed it, you needed everyone, absolutely everyone to know he is yours. “Only if you let me mark you back.”
And his kisses stopped, surprised by your boldness, the jeans straining a little more to the point of it being almost painful. Is he going to get yelled at by Joyce and Wayne? His two managers? Most likely. Does he care? Not a fucking chance. Not now, not ever. A smile formed on his lips as he mumbled against your skin.
“Deal.” And his lips pressed again against your pulse point. You were afraid of your sounds, but a moan almost got out when his lips pressed pecks until you felt him sucking on your skin. He was going to make sure to brand you as his. For real. His breath was heavy as he inhaled with his nose, loving the taste of you and how your nails dug into his nape and the other pair onto his shoulder.
He repeated it, three times to be exact, leaving you with deep red marks that went downwards a bit. He pulled away to look at his art, a smile on his lips as he saw how dazed you already looked as you tried to level your breathing back to a normal pace. You looked beautiful like this, and he was opening his mouth in order to ask if you were ready to keep going, but you broke silence first with a giggle.
“It tickled.” His heart only clenched a bit more at you, thinking that you couldn’t look cuter, or more endearing than you were now, but you always surprise him, don’t you? He smirked as he leaned forward, nose touching with yours, making your giggles stop completely.
“Can you stop being adorable for a second? I’m trying to be sexy here.” You really didn’t know if you had a face anymore because you just felt it combust in flames. He chuckled at watching your expression, even if his own matched with yours. “Can I keep going?”
You gulped and slowly nodded, but his eyes started tracing your neck and going downwards. You wondered what was going on and then they finally landed on your sundress. His hand raised to press against your waist and his eyes met with yours once more, pupils completely dilated with desire.
“Eddie?”
“Kitty�� Can we keep the lights on?” Your heart stopped at that, your hands clenching on his shoulders and you felt your whole body break into a cold nervous sweat.
“I– I thought we were still going to keep the lights off–” And he shook his head, his eyes looking down towards the top of your sundress, a feral side of him coming to light and that he never thought he wouldn’t be able to control it when it came to you.
“We’ll do whatever you want but– Baby, I want to see the body I’ve been craving all these years. I want to see every detail, even a freckle I might have missed, or a mole in a place that I never thought I would see before…” You saw how his eyes traveled all over your body, the hand on your waist giving a press every now and then when his eyes landed at particular places.
You could feel it, even in the midst of your anxiety, that desire that wants to eat you alive, inch by inch, and your own need grows from it. His eyes are not lying, his body language is not lying, his touches, his words, his overall energy, are not lying to you. He wants you. Eddie wants you and has always wanted you.
And that brings you an ounce of confidence. Even if small, it was enough to take the first step–
“Okay…” And his eyes snapped back towards yours, his uneasiness overlapping with his excitement.
“No– No, we don’t have to do something you don’t feel comfortable with because of my selfishness sweetheart–”
“You– You promised you would show me…” And if you didn’t do the lights now, they would be on at some other point, wouldn’t they? You just had to rip the bandaid off. His head started turning, trying to see which was the best way to show you his true feelings, and he decided on a different approach than what he thought would be the most appropriate one.
He got a knee between yours, nudging on them. You looked down in surprise but followed the queue and parted your left leg away, very slowly, afraid of the sundress driving up even more than before. His eyes weren’t leaving your face though, needing to see your reaction as he pressed his knee against your right leg as well.
Your heart rate picked up, and the butterflies in your belly probably ate your stomach up at this point. You swallowed your nerves as you parted your right leg as well, and he was finally able to get his knees between your legs. He took a sharp courageous breath, letting a nervous sigh out, and pressed his hips against yours.
You gasped and an electric current shot from your core to every single end nerve of your body. His bulge was harshly pressed against your center, and he groaned at finally having some friction against the strain. He was hard. He was rock hard for you.
His lips found yours in a soft peck, only to then kiss the corner of your mouth as he rolled his hips against yours and for the first time in the night, a little moan escaped your lips. The press was delicious on your clit, but it only was building your need for him, slowly, clouding your mind, your sight, your thoughts.
He groaned onto your skin, almost a growl, as his kisses traveled further into the crook of your neck. His hips kept rolling, getting a little lost in it all, drunkenness from finally having you hitting him at full blast. He sucked on places he hadn't before and he nibbled on the soft skin, making another moan escape you which only makes him twitch.
“You are the only one I’ve ever truly wanted… In every single possible way, you can imagine.” It was a low mumble, but it was enough for you to be able to hear it and for your arms to wrap around him, nails digging into his back, grabbing onto the black shirt, pulling on it at every roll of his lower half.
He pulled away from your neck and raised himself on his knees, making your arms fall back down onto the mattress. He crossed his arms, reaching for the hem of his shirt and immediately ripping it away and throwing it across the room.
Your eyes widened when you saw his torso, his belly, the happy trail you have fantasized about so many times with, after that stupid magazine cover. His chest, which only had that skull and spider back in high school, was now littered with many random pieces, as well as his arms, even his hands.
He was gorgeous, perfect, and has always been to your eyes, but now he is not only that but shining as if he were polished gold. Your eyes were all over his belly button and the V shape on his hips, not noticing the eyes that were looking at you with a smirk on his lips. Your eyes went downwards to the bulge on his pants and your eyes widened as you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at it better.
“Holy shit, I thought you were bluffing Eddie!” It wasn’t exactly a bulge… His dick was so hard that you could see the outline of his length as it pressed sideways against the restrictive pants. And–
“Whenever I said I was big, I meant it, and I also repeated it so many times to see if you showed any interest!” He almost yelled in a high-pitched voice which only made you giggle only to stop when you noticed his eyes scanning your every inch, making you gulp loudly. His hand reached down, fingers playing with the hem of your dress.
You two had seen eachother’s upper bodies, but in completely different situations. This wasn’t some nice summer’s day at a pool. He will see everything, and he wants to properly scan you, touch you, feel you. But– Fuck, the images of all those women pop in your head again, comparing yourself to them, their bodies, their futures, their ambitions, and their wealth.
You close your eyes tightly, waiting for the tug of the shirt in order to help him by lifting your upper body from the mattress, but his fingers let go of the dress, and that warm touch suddenly appears on your cheek. You opened your eyes to meet his. He was giving you a small reassured smile as he looked down at your face, pupils that gave you safety and filled you with warmth.
You noticed his fingers were slightly trembling and you realized that Eddie was just as nervous as you were. He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips, making you moan in delight at feeling him this close once more. He chuckled in between and pulled away moments after in order to talk again.
“I compared myself with Steve today.” And your eyebrows raised at that in surprise.
“What? Why?” He couldn’t help but scoff at your question and he kneeled back up in between your legs, letting you prop yourself up on your elbows. He motioned all over himself and then looked back at you as if it were obvious.
“I am not exactly like him, baby. Steve has no tattoos, wears sunshine clothes, rich boy clothes, listens to pop music, and is a tidy guy… I am nothing like that sweetheart.” You were shocked at those words… Eddie? With who he is now, doubting himself?
“B-But… you– you didn’t have to worry–”
“I know that now… so let me show you just how much you don’t have to worry either. Please…” He was looking down at your face, waiting for a response. Your heart soared into the sky at those words, and despite your nervousness, there was a side of you that trusted Eddie blindly, and it was whispering to you that you should let him. Let him show you what he means by all of that.
So you slowly sit up and cross your arms in order to grab the hem of your dress and before you could say anything or stop, you yanked it upwards, throwing it to the side. Your eyes were not looking at him, not wanting to see the reaction to your body. A body he is not used to having anymore. It’s not firm, or perky, or smooth, markless, spotless. It’s full of those.
Instead, you felt fingers on your chin that made you lift your head up so you could look at Eddie once more. He was smiling softly as he leaned and kissed you, softly and gently. You felt yourself being lowered again, back hitting against the mattress, while one of his hands pressed onto your waist and the other helped with the leverage of moving you down.
His lips broke apart from yours and your body was burning from the small interaction only for a cold sweat to invade you as you saw him straighten up again and his eyes locked on your body. The visible part of your breasts above the cups of your bra, your shoulders, your tummy, your hips, and you needed to cover your body, or at least your face to not see his reaction.
But your eyes caught onto the twitch of pain in his eyebrows as he groaned softly into his throat. You could see his jaw clench, and a vein in his neck popping out slightly as he swallowed hard.
“Eds–?”
“I’m sorry– I can’t hold myself back, I’m sorry.” And his hand quickly went to his jeans, unbuttoning them and zipping them down, a sigh of relief coming out and then, with an almost animalistic growl, he lunged back down on you, his lips taking yours in a ravishing kiss. Hot, rough, deep, moving at a quick desperate pace. You were thrown off at the intensity but quickly reciprocated as the butterflies in your belly exploded in retaliation.
His kiss only made the fire worse and you wrapped your arms around his neck to have something to hold on to as you raised your hips up to meet his, needing some kind of friction. You moaned into the kiss when his bulge rubbed against your clothed pussy. He grunted and bit your bottom lip gently as if to reprimand you for the action.
His lips traveled south and you expected them back on your neck, but they kept moving, kissing on your collarbone, and then the top of one of your breasts. You gasped and arched your back slightly as his hips kept rutting against yours, slow but still very needy. His lips went to your other breast only to then continue down, kissing your chest and downwards to your tummy, his hips leaving yours as he moved down, sending shivers all over your body and you could feel the goosebumps rising up on your skin.
His hands were now gripping your hips, fingers digging on your skin, dipping into it as if he were clawing into something to keep himself centered. His lips traveled all over your tummy, and your waist, groans leaving his mouth as he bit onto your side, a nibble, causing you to jump. He was being so… needy, and desperate, something you never experienced before.
He moved upwards again, his lips not leaving your skin, but his body moving up again as one hand traveled all the way towards your back, making you arch it upwards a little bit. You felt his fingers play with the clasp of your bra and he kept kissing over the cups of it, making you mewl a little as you felt yourself clench in anticipation.
“Eddie–”
“Please, let me see more… Please, sweetheart?” His eyes were cloudy in the darkness of lust as he raised his head up, chin resting on your chest with his mouth hanging slightly open. You gulped a bit but you felt a certain power in you that you didn’t think you would feel with him. Some kind of confidence rises up inside your chest.
“Yeah…” You fully arch your back so he can have more movement to snap your bra open in one movement. You lay back down once he takes his hand out and immediately it grabs onto the strap of your left shoulder to push it down, surprising you by how quickly he was moving, as if he weren’t thinking anymore, just acting.
He makes a cup move out of the way, revealing your perked-up nipple, making you flush a bit in embarrassment but also in arousal, as you feel the cold air hit it a bit. You can’t even think far enough that his lips circle around it, your nipple being sucked into his mouth as his tongue presses on it. His hand was roughly grabbing onto your breast to keep it still and you squirmed beneath him as pleasure filled your senses.
You let a moan out when his teeth grazed the tip of your nipple, and his own satisfaction showed when a groan got stuck in his throat. His hips started moving against you again, the shape of his dick rubbing deliciously against your heat, over and over, destroying your underwear each second it passed but you couldn’t care less.
With a ‘pop’ he let go of your left nipple in order to raise up and rip your bra off your body finally. Now, without the elastics of your bra, you know your breasts are not in perfect shape, gravity, changes of weight, and the years doing their job with your skin. The stretch marks pronounced around the nipple area, which made you a little self-conscious only for that thought to be thrown out the window when Eddie talked once more, almost in a whine.
“The most perfect pair of tits I’ve ever seen baby, so fucking perfect, jesus christ…” You felt a wave of embarrassment at the dirty talking. You will have to get used to how it makes you feel coming from your best friend’s mouth. But he sounded so delighted as if he were drunk, staring at them, back and forth, trying to decide if he should go for the other neglected nipple but then his eyes hit your surprised ones, and you see how they widen in realization.
“A– Are they?” And he covered his face with one hand to cover up his reddened cheeks.
“I uh… Yeah, I just– Fuck, I said that out loud, didn’t I?” And you couldn’t help but giggle, making your breasts jiggle a bit at your laughter, his eyes flickering to them instinctively.
“Well, glad to know that…” And you honestly were. No one has ever looked at you the way Eddie was doing right now, so desperately, wanting to ravish you but waiting for you to give him the green light to do so. The fire inside of you and all over your body needed to be extinguished, and you also had to show him how eager you were for him, your own patience after ten long years wearing thin.
You sat up, looking up at him as your fingers hooked on his boxers and jeans. He licked his lips nervously, his eyes scanning your face as he gulped harshly, his hands moving to go over yours and help you drag down his clothes.
Your head slowly moved downwards when you felt his bulge forbidding you to move the boxers even lower, prompting you to stretch the elastic even more and your eyes widened when you finally saw him. His cock slaps against his belly, and your face must be one of awe because Eddie had to clear his throat to center you back to reality.
“Um, you okay there?” He tried to say it with a hint of comedy, humor, but he was nervous, just so fucking nervous.
You two know eachother since kids, and even with that thought in mind, it doesn’t feel weird to be right here with you like this, knowing what the two of you were about to do. But maybe you don’t think the same. Now seeing him completely naked might make you rethink what the two of you were doing, thinking about the past, about what–
He hissed in surprise when he felt your hand over his shaft, your thumb pressing onto his red leaking tip, causing him to lock eyes with you again. You were smiling up at him, an innocent little grin that stirred the lust inside of him and renewed it. He was big in your hand, that you were slowly moving, lazily, feeling the warmth of it on your palm.
You wanted to dart your tongue out, feeling like being a little filthy, show him how eager and needy of him you were. You were looking at the tip, your eyes clouded with desire, and your mouth started to open, only for Eddie’s hand to press on your cheek to make you look up at him.
“As much as I would love for you to make one of my many wet dreams about you come true, I don’t want to lose the small bit of dignity I have left.” You tilted your head in confusion at that only to be pushed back onto the mattress, making you bounce on it, opening your eyes after you gasped to see Eddie taking off his clothes, and almost falling off the edge of the bed in the action, making you snort, covering your mouth after he sent a glare your way.
“I’m sorry Eds, but– I think you just lost that dignity you mentioned.” You giggled and he growled as he crawled over you, his finger hooking into the elastic of your underwear, yanking it and letting go so it hit against your skin, making you yelp at the
little sting.
“Don’t mock me now.” Your giggles stopped when you met his dark eyes, just looking down into yours, his head tilting to the side. “Can I keep going or are you going to keep laughing at me? I am on a mission, Kitty.”
Your eyebrows frowned in confusion as you stirred a bit below him. Before you could ask, his face went back to the crook of your neck where he could continue with the soft featherlight kisses and as you were about to close your eyes, you felt his fingers playing with the elastic of your underwear once more, making your breath hitch.
You felt him nibble on your pulse point at the same time his fingers sneaked in, a little bit of self-consciousness filled you when you realized you hadn’t shaved properly, just trimmed, and maybe those women he slept with had the laser hair removal you cannot afford. You opened your mouth to apologize but the words were stolen away when his index finger grazed your clit softly, yet perfect.
“Eddie–” You breathed out, and he only gave a low humming with satisfaction as he felt how wet you were for him. He was twitching, wanting to rub himself on you to relieve himself a bit, the friction very much needed but– he wanted to do this. He wanted to make you come undone underneath him, show you just how good he could be for you, how eager he is to give you pleasure.
His middle finger pressed on your clit, a little harder now, slow and lazy circles being done as your breathing turned into held in moans, and whimpers as your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Yeah, mark him. Mark him. He wants you to mark him, just like he always had wanted you to do.
“So fucking perfect for me– I’ve always known but fuck–” You whimpered at his words, trembling underneath him as he kept rubbing you, deliciously so. His mouth left your throat to then peck your collarbone and shift a bit lower, his back arching so his lips could land on your left nipple.
His middle finger ran through your slit, coating it with your wetness before slowly starting to nudge inside. At the same time, his mouth started sucking and flicking your hardened nipple with his tongue, causing you to throw your head back onto the pillow, a strangled moan escaping your lips, making him smile with victory against your breast as his finger was engulfed by your warmth.
He couldn’t help but groan at the feel of you, reaching deep, his dreams and imagination out of the window as you gave another whimper when he pulled his finger out, only to plunge it inside again, easily. He needed to worship you. He wanted to make you cum on his fingers, on his tongue, many times, putting you first above everything, needing to hear you moan his name repeatedly… but your breathy moans make it hard to be patient.
He pulled out of your cunt in order to rub his ring finger along his middle one now, rubbing fast-paced circles on your clit, making your hips jerk against him. He had to bite his bottom lip as he raised himself a bit to look down at your face. Your eyes were clenched as moans started coming out of your mouth, embarrassment no longer in you about those. He groans at the angry twitch of his dick.
He licked his lips as he slowly started pressing both his fingers inside of you, stretching you, preparing you. You gasped when he got them inside of you in one move, eyes opening to see him looking down at you with a fucked out look on his face. Your eyes were teary because of the pleasure, face, and body burning up in a thousand degrees.
“Eds…” You called him out as he pulled his fingers back out and then in again, the palm of his hand slamming against your clit, making your back arch at it as he kept repeating the action, his pace increasing. You could hear the squelching now, making you slightly embarrassed but the pleasure he is giving you right now completely overshadows it.
“Yeah, baby?” You whimpered at the nickname, loving the way it sounded in his mouth, the nickname you always fantasized about. Imagining his voice saying it to you in random moments, but mostly in these kinds of situations, where he was slowly breaking you apart.
“P-Please–” What were you begging for? You didn’t know. You weren’t that talkative during sex, but… you wanted Eddie to know, or hear you, anything. Just let him know you were feeling good. You gasped a moan out when his fingers curled, the squelching becoming even nastier, filthier, but he was hitting that spot that you sometimes have a hard time figuring out. “O-Oh fuck–!”
“Found it.” He said with a smug smirk as he saw how you clenched your eyes again, moaning louder, one of your hands shooting out to grip the sheets while the other dug into his bicep, tightly. Your legs were shaking as he kept going, his fingers just making you clench around him, your pussy being filled and satisfied.
“I’m– more, more!” He was surprised by your words, not knowing if you were normally vocal or not, but fuck if it wasn’t hot. He groaned as he leaned down to your right nipple, engulfing it with his teeth and giving a soft pull, pressing his palm against your clit in order to move his hand up and down. His fingertips rub your G-spot while the heel of his hand rubs against your clit.
Your eyes widen at the new feeling. It was raw, rough, desperate, and he moaned against your skin as you started fluttering around him, the pressure building in your belly like never before. It was going quickly, a fire that was spreading, not letting you run away. You were almost crying out his name as you kept trembling underneath him. He pulled away from your nipple in order to hover over you, his nose nudging yours.
“You close, love?” You whined at the nickname as your hips met the thrust of his fingers. He gave you a soft kiss, the opposite of what he was doing in the lower part of your body. The elastic band was stretching and stretching, your belly contracting at the pressure. Your moans came out in sharp breaths, chest heaving up and down as now both your hands flew to his shoulders as your back arched against him.
“Yes– Yes– Eddie, Eddie, baby–” And the elastic band snapped while Eddie moaned at the nickname, the first time you called him that and not his name. Your walls clenched tightly around his fingers and he moaned with delight as you spasmed underneath him, his dick threatening to finally shoot his seed, not being able to hold it back anymore, but he held back, with all of his strength.
Your moan was loud, satisfaction rushing all over your body as you trembled, legs giving up almost. You felt his fingers still moving, helping you ride it out, until you slowly calmed down, a few twitches of your legs here and there. It was probably the best orgasm you received… for now. He slowed his movements as he stared down at you, a pleased smile on his face as you opened your eyes to look at him, your breaths heavy.
“So? How was that?” He cocked his head to the side as he gave you one more thrust and you whined at the overstimulation, your hips moving away slightly and he got the clue so he pulled his fingers out of you. You looked at how he took his hand out of your underwear, the wet fingers grazing your pelvis slightly and you looked at how he raised his fingers to his mouth and your eyes widened.
“You–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence when his fingers entered his own mouth. No person had ever done that to you. So eager to taste you that they licked their fingers with so much delight. He moaned at the taste and he cursed at himself for not going down on you. But maybe he can have a small taste…
“Couldn’t help myself Kitty. Needed to know, and I am gonna grow addicted to it, I can already tell.” He raised himself back up on his knees and you looked down to see him still hard, and you winced with embarrassment.
“Let me do something Eddie–” He shook his head at you, his fingers digging into the elastic of your underwear, pulling it away. Your face flushed as you raised your hips up and– He will see it. What if it’s not pretty? What if there’s something he doesn’t like? Or too bushy, or maybe–
But as soon as your underwear is off, and you lay bare beneath him, he can’t help but tremble as his hand reaches his length. The number of times he had imagined you like this, there’s not even a way of counting them. It’s years of imagination, of dreams, of songs he wrote about your body. Songs you might not even know they’re about you.
You didn’t know what to do as he stared down at you, wanting to close your legs but he was in between them. Your eyes widened when he scanned your body and he started to slowly stroke himself, just soft grazes. Was he touching himself by just looking at you? Did he do that before? Were you the protagonist of some dirty dreams he had?
He suddenly moves backwards, just three small movements with his knees, away from you. You tilt your head as you raise yourself on your elbows to look at him. His body bends down and your eyes widen when his eyes cannot leave your center, wetness all around, and he just looks drunk.
“I’m sorry, can’t help myself…” It was his soft mumble as he gave a pointed lick in between your folds, and you groaned as your hips bucked towards him. He moaned as he gathered some of your juices, gulping them down and straightening again.
Your eyes locked again, and the need was worse than it ever was before. The desire burning you both alive. It prompted Eddie to move quickly from in between your legs, his knees guiding him slightly to the side so he could reach over and open the drawer of his night table. You turned your head to watch how he took an unopened box of condoms.
He cursed when he couldn’t open it from how nervous he suddenly got. He was finally going to get what he had always wanted, and now that it’s here… His thoughts were cut off when he felt your soft hands engulfing his, taking the box in your grasp, thumb pressing onto one edge to pop it open.
He gave you a smile, a fond, caring one, and took the box once more, pulling a foil out. He moved again, his hands gripping your knees that had closed slightly, reopening them with a tut as he placed himself in between. You looked at how he ripped the foil open with his teeth, throwing it somewhere, and then rolled the latex over himself.
Your heart was on your throat now, knots of nerves inside of your belly, needing to simply detangle or explode. He looked down at you and crawled on top of you, his forearms coming to rest on either side of your head in order to support himself over your body. His nose nudged yours, a hum vibrating in his throat.
“You okay princess?” He asked and you sighed in delight, giving a small nod.
“Yeah… you?”
“I’m fucking nervous.” He admitted, no playfulness in his tone and it surprised you. “But I am also very excited.”
And you decided to be the one to diffuse the tension a little bit this time. You raised your hips and rubbed your center along his shaft, coating it with your wetness, making him groan and raise an eyebrow at you. A smirk played on your lips as you looked at your best friend.
“I can feel that alright.” And Eddie’s lips turned into a smile, his eyes filled with love just as much as yours were. One of his arms left the mattress to get in between you two, grabbing onto his cock, and rubbing the tip of it against your folds and clit, making you whimper.
“Bratty little shit.” And his hips pressed in, his arm returning to the same position as before, and your mouths fell into an ‘o’ shape, a choked breath in your throats as he slowly thrusts himself inside of you, inch by inch.
Electricity ran all over your body, on every nerve and artery, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You could feel it everywhere, every single thing in the world making sense for some reason. You didn’t care about anything else but him at this moment. Him and how he felt as he slowly filled you, finally, after so long. Your legs raised up, thighs pressing against his sides as the heels of your feet dug into his hips.
He moaned when half of his cock was already inside of you and he cursed when he felt himself twitch. He had to hold it back for a little longer, he needed this to be perfect. He needed to make this last, though, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time. He hoped it would be the first time of many.
His lips desperately pressed against yours as his hips kept pressing in, deeper and deeper and you wondered how much you could possibly take as he stretched you open, your wetness making it all a little easier. There was a small pressure, a little sting at the sudden intrusion but it was still so delicious.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you kissed him back, hands moving to his hair and you remembered the bun he had on. It was a little loose, and you wanted to see his mane all over his face, just like the Eddie you had been pining for since high school. You needed to see him like that as he made you scream his name.
Your fingers dug into his ponytail and started to yank, trying not to rip his hair when doing so. He winced a bit in between the kiss and you giggled, having some trouble in freeing his hair. He groaned and pulled away from the kiss, his hips stopping as his arm reached up and swatted your hand away in order to take the hairband off himself.
You heard a few hairs being ripped out and you winced at the sound but he didn’t care as his curls fell down. Your eyes softened as you finally saw your Eddie. You loved his hair up, but… his hair down just reminded you of the first time you looked at him with different eyes. It was when it was getting longer after deciding to never let anyone give him a buzz cut ever again.
“Happy?” He asked and you giggled, his hair now all over his face and shoulders, falling on your face as well, making your cheeks tingle. You moved your hands to gather it up and pull it all over to one side only. He shook his head at you, fond eyes and a smile directed your way. “You shouldn’t have taken it off. It will be a little bothersome.”
“I wanted to… Your long hair is one of the things I love the most about you…” He tilted his head to the side as his eyes filled with confusion.
“My hair?”
“Yeah… When you decided to let it grow, it’s when you turned into… you.” You smiled up at him, eyes filled with love and stars and he could see them all as his heart combusted inside of his chest.
He can now truly absolutely believe that you were meant for him. No woman could make him feel the way you do. You love him with everything in you, he can see it in your eyes. You have loved him before his fame, and he cannot be more grateful to destiny for bringing you into his life. He will never be able to say thank you enough.
But his feelings made his body twitch, a sudden electric shock sent to his whole body as his hips moved by themselves. Your smile slowly vanished as your mouth fell into a breathless moan, eyes widening as he stared down at your face and how it slowly contorted. He needed to be fully inside of you, his feelings making his body take what it has been craving for so long.
You gasped as your head was thrown back against the pillow when his hips suddenly slammed against yours, making him bottom out and fill you entirely. He was big, a definite stretch, but god it felt wonderful. Right. Meant to be even as your back arched against him, his lips falling to your exposed neck, groaning against your skin as he kept himself from moving, letting you adjust and for his mind to help him not end this as soon as it started.
Your nails were digging into his shoulders for some grounding, your mind and heart racing and you felt everything a little too much. You gave a small groan as you pressed your back against the mattress once more, and his face raised up from your neck in order to look down at you.
“I love you.” His words were not new, not anymore, yet they made your heart skip many beats now. The butterflies in your stomach exploded and you gave him a small smile. You opened your mouth in order to reply only for a moan of yours to occupy where your words should have been as his hips moved backwards and in again.
“I– I love you Ed– ah!” You couldn’t even finish it correctly because as the first letter left your mouth, his movement quickened just a bit. His hips swayed back and forth, moving slowly still but you felt the drag of him against your walls. His face lowered, his elbows on each side of your head, his forearms and hands holding onto your head, fingers running through your scalp as he used that hold to keep himself up and for his hips to move faster.
His lips were against your cheek, and now the hit of skin against skin started being heard and you felt your whole body flush in embarrassment, or pleasure, or a mix of it all. Suddenly his breath hit your ear as he groaned at each thrust of his hips. He felt too good, and you felt your mind drifting away, further from consciousness, until you heard his words again.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
He kept repeating them in your ear at each thrust his hips made, his fingers on your scalp as his chest rubbed against yours. You moaned when you felt his tip just graze your g-spot but not quite there yet. Your nails ran from his shoulders and down to his back, scratching him, and your eyes opened when you realized you hadn’t done your part of the deal yet.
So you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck as your nails dug even deeper into the skin and your mouth opened. Your lips latched onto his skin and he groaned, hips stuttering slightly at your possessiveness of him. He could feel the burning in his back and now, the one on the side of his throat as you marked him in two places of his body.
You knew he liked to get shirtless in his concerts, of course you did… And he can’t wait to show everyone, his fans, his band members, his team, his staff, what you did to him. What you are to him. What he is to you. To finally show everyone who owns him, in body and soul.
He felt you nibble, suck, lick, kiss, and he knew it was going to be a big mark, just like the one he left you. He pulled away from your ear and raised himself up on his hands in order to look down at you. Your eyes were glossy, just like your lips which are also plump from all the kissing you’ve done to his skin. He wants to devour you, a fire that had always been there, but now it was scorching hot, almost painful.
So why hold back?
His hips draw back and strike against yours in a forceful thrust. It was deep, so fucking deep, that he couldn’t help but groan, almost growl at your tightness. A choked moan escaped you from the surprise and the sudden punch to your spongy spot. Your eyes met his, now clouded in a dark cloud of pleasure, hints of love and devotion here and there, but you could see that he needed to ruin you, take what is his.
Your fingers are on his biceps now as he literally, absolutely, starts railing you into the mattress, like a madman, as if it were his first time ever. Reckless, sloppy, harsh, but still perfected. The bed made the both of you bounce, helping the movements, and your moans turned into whimpers and cries of his name.
“Eddie–!” You didn’t even notice that drool was coming out from the corner of your mouth, not noticing how long you had your lips parted for your moans to come out. You saw how intensely he was looking at you, as if he were to try to remember each trace of your face. Nervousness invaded you as well as some kind of self-consciousness, not knowing if your face was scrunching too much due to the pleasure, making your eyes avert away.
“Oh no, I’m having none of that.” You felt his hand grip your jaw and turn your head so he could look at you once again. Your cheeks were on fire, and you could swear tears were beginning to threaten to leave your eyes. His hair was all over his shoulders, moving at the pace of his hips, sweat on his forehead and tattooed chest. He was gorgeous. He was so beautiful that it hurt.
Your moans were still coming out steadily out of your lips until his hips shifted, just slightly, and his thrusts were now in a more upward direction. Your G-Spot was being punched by the tip of his cock and your belly was turning deliciously at each movement.
He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to prove to you that he is the only one you will ever need, that he is the only one that can make you feel this good. He took his time fingering you in order to know where your spot was correctly. He has a lot to learn about you, and you about him, but there will be other times for that.
For now, he just wants to see you come undone underneath him.
“F-Fuck–Fuck!” Your right hand was holding the wrist that held your face, while the left one was still gripping his bicep. You wanted to scream, the pleasure being too much yet not enough, trying to reach that high once more. A smile appeared on his lips, and you dared to say that it looked evil, cheeky, snarky, cocky.
“Weird?” And that bastard– He was mocking you. He was mocking you for ever thinking that this would feel weird for the both of you, considering the years of friendship. You growled a bit at him, a warning which only made him chuckle as he kept pounding into you, a particular drag making him groan.
“S-Shut up!” And oh you sounded so amazing like this. Breathless, needy, frustrated, pleasured… It was a mixture of everything, and he needed more as he felt his dick twitch inside of you. He hasted his movements and you could only whine in question as your confused, glossy eyes looked up at him.
He groaned with displeasure as he pulled out of you and let go of your face, kneeling up and moving backwards slightly. His hands came to your hips, and he motioned for you to the next position he desired, which made the blood completely leave your body.
He wanted you on all fours. He would have a perfect view of everything. Every single spot of texture, every stretchmark, all of your cellulite… just everything. And the lights are still on. Fuck they’re still on. Your hands were not fast enough to stop him from using his strength in order to turn you around on the mattress, your legs flailing as you were now on your belly onto the mattress.
You opened your mouth, embarrassment already too deep, afraid of even turning your head to look at him. You didn’t want to see the scrunch on his face when he looked at your skin. You are no professional model, and you certainly don’t have the money for all the treatments they can afford on their skin.
But what you didn’t expect was the ferocious bite you received on your left ass cheek, making you yelp. He was behind you, his hands digging on your hips in order to pull your ass up, getting you to press your knees on the mattress and finally be in a formal all fours. You were almost shocked at how easily he manhandled you, at how quick he was. You slowly turned your head over your shoulder and you clenched at the sight.
Eddie looked drunk as he looked at your behind. He was even stroking himself as he looked at you, careful to not roll the condom off. You were stunned, hands and knees on the bed as he kneeled behind you. One of his hands came to rub your left ass cheek, to then give it a slap, causing you to whimper and jump at the action.
“Eddie!”
“Fuck, look at you…” His hand left his dick, and now both of his palms were engulfing your ass, pressing tightly, digits digging urgently into the skin as his face leaned downwards in order to kiss the small of your back and then one cheek. Your face was on fire, but you didn’t know if it was embarrassment or shame anymore… you felt loved. You felt like a goddess. Eddie was making you feel like an absolute goddess.
A bite landed on your right ass cheek this time, gentle but enough to grab some skin and pull gently. He groaned desperately, needing to swallow you whole. You weren’t aware of the state you put him in. He was feral. You were perfect, so fucking perfect and he was gonna make damn sure you knew this.
“Eddie please…” You whined one more time and he gave a small nibble to your ass cheek. He can bite on them a bit more later on. He straightened up and guided the tip of his cock to your sopping entrance, and pushed right in once more. Not slow, yet not fast, just easily.
The two of you groaned with relief as he thrusted a few times, before fully bottoming out inside of you. He growled into his throat as he took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. He is not going to last long, but he for sure was not going to end this without you clenching around his cock.
His hands are now on your waist, gripping your skin in order to guide himself in and out of you, the smacking of hips now echoing once more around the room. He looked at how your ass jiggled underneath him as his hips hit you. He was smirking, a small smack landing on one of your cheeks, making you yelp in between your moans.
He felt you clench a few times, and he cursed into the sky as he had to get a hold of himself so he wouldn’t spill too fast.
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight Kitty– You gonna cum for me?” A dumb ‘Uh-Huh’ was heard from you as you nodded as best as you could. Your arms and legs were trembling, the squelching of your juices with his thrusts a little too loud. It should shame you, but it’s the whole contrary now. You want him to know just how wet you were for him. How good he is making you feel right now, emotionally and physically.
“Y-Yeah Eds, yeah, please–” And you didn’t have to ask twice. His right hand left your hip and guided it underneath, reaching your clit with his index and middle finger. You gasped as your belly suddenly turned at the attention. “FUCK!”
“I know baby, I know…” You whimpered at the nickname as his fingers moved on your sensitive nub, while his dick kept hitting your spot in a perfect rhythm. Your mouth was open, sometimes moans came out, sometimes only drool, but you couldn’t close it. Your pussy clenched around him, making him wince and curse under his breath. “Fucking shit…”
“Baby, baby–” You were warning him and he nodded with determination, his dick twitching inside of you until he saw stars at the same time you did. “EDDIE–!”
Your walls clenched tightly around him, your legs trembling as your belly exploded with bursts of heat. He didn’t stop the rubbing of your clit, making you choke some moans out, wanting to move away from his grip, but he held you tightly in place so you wouldn’t stop the ride of your orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck– holy shit–!” And he groaned loudly, almost whimpering at how hard he came inside of the condom. He gave a few hard thrusts at each spurt of his cum, making you whine at the last strides of your own climax. Soon, your walls slowly unclenched, legs trembling ever so slightly, and his hand left your clit.
The two of you were panting, completely breathless from the lovemaking that just occurred. He took a sharp intake of breath as he slowly pulled out of you, making him wince and you whimper at the loss of him. You immediately flopped on the bed, face hitting the pillow. He chuckled a bit hoarsely and took off the condom, tying it off and looking around.
You turned your head in order to catch him in time, a frown appearing on your face as you turned to your side so you could point a finger at him.
“Don’t you dare throw it on the floor.” He raised an eyebrow at you and then a fond smile appeared on his lips. The two of you were covered in sweat, your breaths slowly leveling out again, a sight he never thought would occur.
“You gonna boss me around in my own home Kitty?” You rolled your eyes at him and he smiled, getting up from the bed on wobbly legs. “Woah–” You covered your mouth in order not to laugh, but he only glared at you as he straightened up once more.
“Sorry–”
“Yeah, I wanna see how you get up from the bed. Come on.” You shook your head and immediately crawled underneath his sheets, covering yourself completely, and hiding from him. He chuckled at that and threw the used condom on his trashcan to then almost sprint to the bed and jump on top of it, making you bounce and yelp on the side you were on.
It made the sheets move away slightly, uncovering you from the waist up. Eddie looked down at you. Your hair was a mess, your makeup smudged… but fuck you were so beautiful. All of you. And you were now his.
“You’re mean…” He chuckled at you and got inside the sheets as well, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you on top of him, making you giggle.
“I’m anything but that…” He bit his lip and then cleared his throat as nerves filled his body once more. He was a rockstar, yet you made him more nervous than any concert he ever played in his life. “Kitty… I want– I want you. Like, I want this to be official.”
And that was the other part of this love that you were afraid of. Official? With Eddie? You?
“I–” You gulped as shame coursed through your body. “I am– no one, Eddie… I am not famous or– I mean, you might lose fans if we come out as official…”
And when you looked at Eddie’s eyes, you saw them become doe-eyed, a sad frown appearing on his eyebrows, as he looked at your face. A hand came up to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, making you sigh.
“Baby, I’ve been wanting you for god knows how long… I don’t care what happens to my reputation… and if my fans are truly my fans, they should be happy that I finally got the chick I’ve been singing about for the past two years.”
Your heart felt like it melted with his words. Your eyes were tracing his face, the shape of his eyes, his nose, his lips. Every expression he did out of happiness or excitement, was because of you now. He definitely loves you, doesn’t he?
“You– Will you show me which songs were the ones about me?” You smile cheekily at him, and he raises an eyebrow at you, grips your hip slightly in warning and you can’t help but giggle.
“Yes, only if you’re mine.”
And this wasn’t the last you’ve seen about the lack of confidence, you knew that. But there is something you are definitely, most certainly, confident about. Eddie Munson loves you, with everything in him, and wants you desperately.
“Deal.” A cheeky smile appears on his lip and you give him a pointed frown. “Apologize to Steve.”
And his smile faded, tilting his nose up.
“Never.”
You’ve got one cocky little rockstar of a boyfriend.
end
a/n: orange peel skin is what we call the skin when it looks pitted, formed by cellulite most of the times.
i hope you all enjoyed this little thing (not so little)
always reblog your artists
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fics#eddie munson x y/n#fanfiction#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson ficlet#eddie munson smut#rockstar!eddie munson#rockstar!eddie x reader#bestfriend!eddie munson
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I Can Do It With A Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+
Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.
Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.
Thanks to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie
I’m astounded at the response to the preview I posted last week. Thank you so much for the love, I hope you enjoy all 40k (20k wtf did my brain go)
-
As you pull up to the little house at the end of the street, you look over to the sweet boy with blonde hair and green eyes nervously, curtaining a strand of hair behind one ear. He shoots you a smirk, white pearly teeth peeking from behind pretty pink lips. The date has gone phenomenally well, the conversation over dinner was easy and your date even easier on the eyes. You smooth your hands over the dress you’re wearing, picking at imaginary lint as you’re entirely unsure of what to say next.
Daniel, your date, leans onto the center console, the scent of his minty breath roping you in. “So, dinner was like, forty dollars.”
Your brows pinch together, the topic of conversation coming from left field.
“And the flowers were about twenty.” He says, his voice hinting at a subtext lost on you.
You think back to the flowers, a cascade of spring colours that drenched you in their floral scent. They sit on your dresser in a vase, waiting eagerly for you to come home.
“Okay…?” You ask, unsure of what he’s getting at.
Daniel sighs, suddenly the frustration you didn’t see before is clear on his face. “Well, I think I deserve some compensation for the princess treatment, don’t you think?”
He’s raising his brow suggestively, and the atmosphere in the car turns thick as you realize what he’s referring to. You feel so stupid. Suddenly the smirk on his face isn’t sweet, it’s sleazy. The cologne he’s wearing isn’t earthy, it’s gross. He’s not a good guy, and you feel foolish for thinking otherwise.
You think fast, lowering your eyelashes in a feigned blush. “Actually, I think it deserves just a little more than that. Be right back, I’m going to grab a condom.” You wink as you get out, the cherry on top.
Daniel lights right up, apparently not expecting his ridiculous method to work. The sound of him undoing his belt makes you nearly gag as you run in the front door.
Your dad, the sweetheart of a single father he is, welcomes you with a kind smile until he sees your crestfallen face. “You okay?”
“No,” you choke back, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. “He’s demanding I repay him for dinner.”
“Repay?” You tilt your head, inferring what it means. “Oh. Fucking twerp. You need me to–”
“Can I have 60 bucks?” You interrupt him, avoiding his angry eyes.
He melts. “Sure.”
You walk back out the door, head held high right to the little corvette that sits at the end with the cheeky asshole sitting contently, waiting for his treat. The window is still open from earlier in the night, which works right in your favor.
“Here,” you toss the bills at him, allowing a small smile to grace your face at his confusion. “Since you’re so worried about being paid.”
As soon as he understands what you’re telling him, his face curves into a scowl, embarrassed, but too proud to say so. “Like I wanted to do it with Eddie Munson’s slut anyway!”
Halfway back up to the house, you turn back to the car as the engine growls into the night. How does that make sense? you wonder. Why am I being called a slut when I refused to put out?
The front door to your house slams shut again, and your dad receives the message that you would not like to talk about it. “Ed called just now, by the way,” he mentions as you reach the top of the stairs. Your pause in gait tells him you heard him, but you don’t respond because you can hear the smirk he wears, as much as you repeatedly tell him that Eddie is just a friend.
The flowers you thought so fondly of now have a looming presence in your room, like a dark shadow menacingly waiting in the corner. You ignore them as you lift the pastel phone to your ear, dialing the number you know by heart.
He picks up on the first ring. “Hi, sweetheart.” Relief washes over you, instant and comforting.
“Hey, Eds. How was your date?” You and he had the same plans tonight, you just hope it turned out better for him.
“It sucked,” he sighs, sounding like he’s rummaging through his messy chest of drawers. “She didn’t want a date, I guess.”
“Well what did she want?” You ask, going through your own drawers for something comfier to wear.
“Uh, to be shown a good time,” he answers dryly, the sound of rummaging coming to a sudden stop. “Heard the rumors of Munson’s magic fingers and apparently only wanted that.”
Yikes, you think. Eddie’s had many hook ups in the back of his van, but as of late he’s finding himself defeated when they don’t want him, just what he can do for them. Your heart hurt for him last week when he admitted they rarely, if ever, reciprocated.
You didn’t think it’d be an appropriate moment to tell him you would happily reciprocate for him.
“That’s extremely shitty. Guess it’s not all that different from my date though, who expected payback from spending a lousy sixty bucks.”
“Payback?”
“Asked me to suck his dick and pointed to it,” you say, a million times more bluntly than you could to your dad.
“I knew that Daniel guy was an asshole,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “I think our shitty dates deserve each other.”
You laugh, holding the PJs you plan on wearing as you sit cross legged on your bed. “To be honest, I don’t think Daniel would’ve been all that great in bed anyway.”
“I could’ve told you that. He looks like he would call thirty seconds a long time,” Eddie laughs. “Sit tight, princess, I think we’ve earned pancake night at Benny’s.”
“C’mon, I was just about to get comfy!” You whine.
“Nah, wear the pretty dress. It deserves to see a strawberry milkshake, don’t you agree?”
Honestly, a milkshake night with your best friend is exactly what you need. “Sure. See you in twenty?”
“Eh, ten.”
You throw out the flowers, tossing the vase full of water into the kitchen sink, shrugging when your dad gives you an apologetic look. You certainly are already over it, just another asshole in Hawkins, who would’ve thought? When the loud music from Eddie’s stereo pulls up, your dad nods in understanding, telling you to have fun as you leave through the front door.
The date night dress you wear is a summer dress that sits just above your knees, held together by spaghetti straps decorated with pretty blue florals. It's a dress you go to for formal events, and even saw a dance or two back in high school. Of course, you had to dust it off for the cute boy in your Psych class who ended up being a complete dickwad.
The fabric of Eddie’s beat up van is familiar. So familiar that you could argue his passenger seat has a permanent indent from your ass. Eddie has, in fact, pointed it out from one night stoned in the back with him, giggling as you vehemently denied it. At your sudden quiet shut down stature, he patted your ass gently, claiming that he didn’t want any other person’s ass planted on his seat except yours.
That conversation, as hazy as it was, stayed in your mind for days after the fact.
Eddie’s dressed in his own version of a date night outfit, tight jeans exposing his knees with jagged rips under a leather jacket and plain black t-shirt. He’s gorgeous, tauntingly so. It’s not much different from an ordinary outfit, but the faint smell of fresh laundry detergent and his best cologne is the best evidence he’s all dressed up.
The loud music speaks for him, loudly, pulling off before your seatbelt is even clicked into place.
The path from your house to Benny’s is well trekked by you and Eddie on late nights when you should’ve been doing homework but ended up goofing off instead. Martha, a waitress that’s been working there well over twenty years, smiles with smeared red lipstick and too much blue eyeshadow.
You walk in stride with each other, straight to the corner booth as the husk of 20 years of chain smoking barks over the gentle music, “Hey, you two! Eddie, are you finally taking this girl of yours on a date?”
Shut up, you silently beg her, avoiding either of their eyes as you stare at your lap, seemingly fixated on a loose thread at the hem of your dress.
“Oh, I’m not that lucky,” Eddie winks, throwing his arm behind you on the back of the booth. “We’re just recovering after shitty dates.”
“One day, you two,” she muses, tapping her pen rhythmically on her little notepad. It’s never been the same notepad twice, always decorated with a little cartoon sticker on the front. You’re tempted to run to the dollar store and grab her a larger one, but a part of you thinks she thrives on her many little notepads. “Alright, a large strawberry milkshake with two straws, pancakes with extra strawberry sauce and fresh strawberries on top, and waffles loaded with whipped cream and sprinkles. Correct?”
You nod in unison, both aware that she insists you will collectively rot the teeth out from your gums if you insist on overdosing with sugar every damn time you waltz in late at night. She’s given up offering other menu items, having ordered extra strawberries just to make up for your love of the fruit.
Less than five minutes later, following the blissful sound of a blender, the milkshake is wordlessly dropped off at the table, closer to you as even Martha knows you will be drinking 75% of it. The sweet, pinky taste flows easily down your throat, humming softly as you dip into the whipped cream with a finger. “Best milkshake in town,” You assert.
“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie answers, smirking, “you never let us get a milkshake from anywhere else!”
You giggle, licking some of the whipped cream that found a home in the corner of your mouth. “I could never! It would be like cheating! This milkshake would just know,” you drop your voice to a whisper, “it would smell the other milkshakes on me!”
“We couldn’t have that,” Eddie grins, grabbing the large glass to take a sip. “Sorry your date was such a jerk.”
You shrug, already having gotten over it. You’ll just need to sit on the other side of the lecture hall from now on. “He seemed so nice.”
“No offense, sweetheart, but I could’ve told you that Daniel Moore was a shitty person,” Eddie finishes another sip of the milkshake, making a large dip in the glass as the pink slush is pulled up the straw. “He likes to instigate.”
You rest your chin on your elbow, sad the milkshake is already nearly gone. “I had just hoped he would’ve matured by now…”
“In seven months?” Eddie asks you incredulously, raising his brows past his curly bangs. His expression quickly turns curious, tilting his head at you.
“What?”
“So, you’re willing to bet that Daniel Moore has improved just based on personal speculation alone but you’re not willing to believe me when I say Steve Harrington is no longer a douche?”
You roll your eyes. God, you should’ve seen this one coming. “That’s different! I only heard about Daniel. Steve Harrington actually sat back and laughed when Tommy asked–”
“You out as a joke, yeah, I know, I’ve heard it before,” Eddie mumbles, grinning at your shocked expression. “Well, that was like what, three years ago?”
“I still can’t believe you’re friends with Steve Harrington now, of all people! Listen, I know he’s also Dustin’s friend, but I find it hard to believe that you guys even have something in common,” You shrug.
“I still can’t believe you refuse to give him another chance!” Eddie playfully retorts, licking some of the whipped cream that still sits on the rim of the glass. “He’s in your Sociology class, isn’t he?”
Yeah, and he seems to insist on forcing his friendship on you, too, no matter how much you resist it. If you found friendship in Eddie, it seems reasonable to find friendship with Steve, too. Yet, there’s a little part that remembers the cruel laughter, his carelessness with others’ lives, and it ripples down your spine in a violent shudder.
You haven’t gotten rid of the notion of being his friend completely, but it’s just not the right time for you, yet.
You shrug. The topic has too much nuance for a nice dinner with your best friend. Just in time, Martha wordlessly drops off the two plates, the smile that spreads across your face is effortless. Zachary, the night chef must’ve heard about the shitty night and added extra for you, because the mountain of strawberries on the table is huge, even for your standards.
Eddie smirks, reading your mind. “You gonna finish all those?”
“Absolutely!”
-
Eddie sits on one side of the open courtyard, flicking off ashes from his cigarette as he waits for you to get out of class. He mentally reflects on his crazy afternoon, taking another long, much needed drag. The car with the million symptoms was one thing, but the proposition he got right before, he couldn’t wrap his head around it.
It’s been 13 days since Daniel, four awkward classes of avoiding his glare, and you’ve decided to give up on boys completely. The one you want doesn’t want you, and the dates you’re going on don’t seem to do well no matter who you say yes to. The two offers you’ve gotten in the last week were therefore denied, realizing that even if they are cute, you don’t want to lead anyone on when your heart belongs to someone else.
Before the aforementioned date, you were practically begging for someone to ask you out, but for some inexplicable reason, now you’re getting offers left and right. Somehow people just know when you’re playing hard to get.
At least Eddie’s dates seem to be going terribly for him, as well. That’s one thing you can thankfully count on.
The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be as gorgeous as it is. It’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.”
He flicks the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?”
He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.”
Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie, this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”
He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.”
Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to claw its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will.
It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”
A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?”
“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?”
Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tiled floors and fall into the depths of hell.
“She asked you out?”
“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!”
That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per se. But a girl like Chrissy, one with pretty blonde curls, adorable smile and a sweet disposition, it’s like your worst nightmare come true.
Thanks to living in such a small town, you can recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out.
This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing.
“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, walking in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”
“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.”
“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?” You try to keep your tone nonchalant, but bitter jealousy coats your tongue.
Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.”
This is also new. Even as his dates would happen, any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this doesn’t become a new habit of his.
“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?”
You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you try to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing.
Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what will probably be another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed.
You smoke more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong hit rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself.
-
A weight on your bed suddenly dips down and you sit up quickly to face Eddie sitting on the corner of your mattress with a small smile on his face. Your headphones, still playing the obnoxiously loud music that drowned out his knocks, fall off your head as you sit up. You press the STOP button, clicking loudly in the silence as you stare at your best friend.
The anxiety of his date has eaten you all night long, the only thing strong enough to distract it being music loud enough to hurt your eardrums. You always feel some sort of anxiety, but tonight was even worse, eating at your brain in fear of how painful it might be to be third wheeling with him after being his #1 for so long.
For once, you can’t tell how it went. A slimy, selfish part of you is hoping he shares bad news. His smile breaks. Into a bigger, much brighter beam. Damn.
“How did it go?” You ask, already knowing the answer.
Eddie slams himself onto the bed next to you, hiding his eyes with his hands with his dimples deep, his pearly whites exposed. “Fuck, it was the best date I’ve ever had.”
Your heart shatters. “That good?”
“God, she’s– much better than I thought she could’ve been,” Eddie answers, peeking out from behind his hands. “It’s fucking crazy.”
Of course Chrissy Cunningham, a known sweetheart, is everything he’s ever dreamed of. Of course she lived up to his expectations. Just your luck. “I’m just jealous of your remarkable turn in luck, I guess.”
Eddie chuckles, turning onto his stomach to face you as he kicks his feet. “You’ll have your turn, baby.”
The pet name stings in the worst way. Instead, you raise your brow at him. “Look at you lookin’ like a schoolgirl with a crush. Pretty boy doesn’t even need makeup with all that blush.”
He rolls his eyes, pinching you on the shin. “You’re such a shithead.”
“Yeah, well you still choose to hang out with me anyway, so, that’s on you.” It takes everything in you to ask the following question, “So, tell me about your date, will ya?”
He does. He rattles on and on about how pretty she is, how easy the conversation was, how much she surprised him, how the night ended with a kiss that had Eddie giggling. He lays next to you, leather jacket put aside on the corner chair and boots next to your bunny slippers at the end of your bed. Your small twin mattress has you close in proximity, your side in direct contact with him as he rests his head on his hands.
“She’s such a cool girl, you know?”
You’re half asleep by now, allowing the exhaustion to overwhelm the slight ache in your chest. It zaps through your heart, overwhelms your senses and makes you dizzy. Your eyes flutter shut, but Eddie keeps talking softly next to you.
“Why were you blasting your 8-track, anyway?”
The question harshly yanks you out of the haze, failing to think of something that doesn’t seem completely false. You wish you were a better liar. “Just stressed out about your date.”
He gives you a strange look, eyebrows tilted. “Hmm?”
“We both haven’t had a very good track record, lately, and if things won’t turn around for me, then at least they should do one of us a favor.” Not, not the truth, but definitely an over exaggerated version of it.
“You’re so good to me, you know?” Eddie asks, intertwining his hand with yours. “Wasting your anxiety on me.”
The rings are harsh against your skin, squeezing your fingers tightly. The physical hurt is almost comforting in direct contrast to your emotional hurt.
His scent is comforting, as it lures you like the pied piper into the land of sleep. It’s about another twenty minutes until he realizes there are soft snores coming from you. He doesn’t care to drive all the way home, despite it only being a five minute drive away.
He falls asleep to your comforting breaths, allowing your hand to remain engulfed in his.
-
The loud ringing of your phone jerks you awake, quickly crawling to the side of your bed as you grab it from the dock housed on the floor.
“Hello?” Sleep sits deep in your voice, spelling out clearly to your caller that you just woke up.
It just occurs to you that you could’ve just allowed your dad to answer it.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Eddie’s voice is chipper, alarmingly so since you’re not even awake yet.
“You sound way too awake for someone that didn’t believe in waking up before 1pm,” you quip, rubbing your eyes sleepily.
“Ha,” he deadpans, yet it's clear he’s smiling. “Chris wants to meet you. I mean, I know you’ve already met her, but you know, as my girlfriend?”
Ugh. It’s been a harrowing three weeks. “Yeah, sure. What did you want to do with her?”
“I thought we could introduce her to pancake night,” Eddie sheepishly answers, like he knows you would be hesitant to invite someone into your holy ritual.
Yeah. You don’t want to invite her. But…you asked for patience last month and it seemed that the universe has answered with a lovesick Eddie Munson.
“I don’t see why not,” you lie, finding it rolls off the tongue much easier than it used to.
“You’re the best! I’ll see after you study in the library, yeah?” He knows your schedule. On Thursdays after the morning Sociology class, you opt to crawl up into a small corner and hermit yourself with snacks and a pile of books to get the work that needs to be done finished.
In high school, you could get away with doing minimum work and passing, but with your dad paying and barely able to afford it even with his second job, it sent the need to do your work to the best of your ability for once. You owed him at least that much from all the calls of missed classes for four years straight.
“Sure.”
As you stretch while hanging up the phone, you glance over to the alarm clock to see the time and it lurches you forward in bed to scramble for clothes, textbooks, and scattered papers as your lecture starts in less than twenty minutes. You’re usually already sitting in the seat by then.
On your way out the door, your dad is surprised you’re still home, offering to drive you. You don’t want to burden him even more than you already have, so you insist you can ride your bike and still get there on time. Well, at least you hope you can.
The bike rack is nearly full when you get to the college, six or seven locks messily put around the poles, most bikes already fallen over. You jam your bike in between two of them, hurriedly wrangling the annoying coil of sturdy cable between what you’re sure is entangled in someone else’s lock, too. Whatever, they should’ve been more organized.
The clock on the wall tells you class started three minutes ago and your heart falls to your stomach, knowing the professor is a stickler for punctuality. His words falter as soon as you enter the hall, the heavy door echoing its creak against the walls. He graciously allows you to sit and get situated before he continues. He makes examples of every late student, and you figured you would never be in his laser eyed focus. Well, before your alarm decided not to go off.
The last chair available is the corner chair in the front row, the one spot in class you love to avoid. It’s too close for comfort, a place he often chooses for students to answer his questions even if they don’t raise their hand.
That, and it’s right beside Steve Harrington.
His fingers raise from the desk as a greeting, sharing a sweet smile as you start to collect your textbook and notes. You awkwardly smile back at him, your attention snapped back to the professor as he pointedly talks right at your desk in his lecture. Fuck, this’ll be annoying.
By the time the three hour lecture ends, your hand hurts from the amount of notes you wrote down, one side covered in graphite from smudging the paper. Your stomach grumbles, asking loudly for lunch after neglecting to eat breakfast as usual.
Unbeknownst to you, Steve follows a step behind. “That lecture was brutal,” You hear from behind you. You toss your head over your shoulder to glance back at him before turning back around.
“I guess.” You say awkwardly. Here we go again.
“Out of curiosity, how are Eddie and his new girlfriend doing? Chrissy Cunningham, huh? I cannot say I saw that coming.”
Neither did you. “They’re doing great, from what I hear. Haven’t really met her, yet,” you answer, heading straight to the small cafe that has a home in the heart of the campus. “Listen, Steve, I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“Why not? You don’t think he’s happy with her, or something?”
You stop midstep, turning to face him. “It’s not that. I just don’t have the capacity for it, ok?”
“You like him,” Steve accuses, his brows meeting his hairline.
Your jaw drops, stuttering through an empty sentence. “I do not like him!”
“Really?” Steve laughs, crossing his arms as he watches you build a brick wall around yourself. “So you not wanting to talk about his new girlfriend has nothing to do with the way your face fell when I asked about it?”
How the hell did Steve Harrington pick up on it so fast, of all people?
“Even if I did, why the hell would I want to talk about it with someone I don’t even know?” You sigh, looking wistfully over to the cafe. “Besides, I’m not even caffeinated yet.”
Steve rolls his eyes, nodding towards the said cafe. “Here, if I treat you to some coffee will you talk to me about it?”
“If you add a wrap to the deal, then I’ll think about it,” You say dryly, pulling a laugh from him.
The barista, a student who you’ve gotten to know is somehow managing to do pre-law and work part time smiles nicely.
“I’ll get a vanilla latte with nonfat milk and an extra pump of vanilla, please.”
Steve raises his brow at you before making his own order, “I’ll get a medium black coffee with room for creamer, please, and whatever this lady wants from the menu.”
You scan until you reach the egg omelet wrap with mushroom, bell peppers, and tomatoes. “The loaded omelet wrap.”
After Steve pays he meets you on the handout counter. “Why nonfat milk and the extra pump of vanilla?”
“If I get nonfat then I can replace the sugar with the extra vanilla.”
“Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”
You pick up the cup as it lands on the counter, wincing at the temperature on your tongue. “It works.”
Steve grabs his, shaking his head as he makes his way over to pour some creamer in.
The wrap is soon presented as well, steaming in its cardboard sleeve as the scent alone pools on your tongue with saliva. The only thing that got you through that lecture was just the thought of lunch.
Steve meets you at a two-top by the window, setting his own bag down as he sits right across from you.
The omelet, much too hot to eat, sits waiting for you on the chestnut brown table as you sip on the latte. The latte is much too hot as well, but you’ve never had enough patience to wait for that caffeine kick. If you weren’t so afraid of your professor’s wrath you would’ve shown up another ten minutes late with a coffee cup in hand.
Steve allows you and himself a few minutes of quiet before he speaks. “So, why don’t you tell him?”
You cough mid sip, mentally apologizing to your lungs for allowing non-oxygen to make its way in. “I’m sorry?”
“Stop pretending. Eddie was dead on when he said you were a bad liar,” Steve says, grinning with stupid smirk on his face.
“Why have you and Eddie talked about me?” You ask, narrowing your glance towards him.
“Are you kidding? You’re all he talks about,” Steve shrugs, so nonchalant that you have no choice but to believe him. “Kind of annoying, actually.”
“Why?”
“I have to hear about how great of a friend this girl is but also how she can’t stand me.”
You huff in laughter at how distraught he genuinely seems by it, his face contorted into someone who definitely isn’t used to rejection. You cock an eyebrow at him. “Can you exactly blame me?”
“Yes! I can! Everybody loves me!” Steve rolls his eyes playfully, and damn it if you can’t help but find it mildly amusing.
“Hate to break it to you, there, sweetheart, but the people who were picked on by you don’t exactly crave to be around your oh-so-wonderful presence.”
He squints, crossing his arms as he leans forward. “Picked on? I mean that’s a little harsh, considering–”
“Fine, yes, you didn’t exactly jeer, or outright bully even, but you watched and laughed along and sometimes that feels even worse,” you admit, feeling suddenly small under his gaze. “Tommy and Carol said shit, that’s just what they did… But sitting back and watching sometimes is just as bad. You were nice, sometimes, I guess. But the fact that you had that capacity for kindness and chose against it just spoke volumes.”
“I met them in seventh grade. They weren’t as bad back then, mostly just somewhat belligerent. They got worse over time, but we all had terrible home lives, it was like we were the only ones that got what that was like…and somewhere along the way, I forgot that just because we had an excuse didn’t mean they had the right.”
“I guess that makes sense,” you answer, glancing at the omelet, debating taking your first steaming bite. “I mean, I’m not condoning it, but sometimes loyalty can be blinding.”
“I’m not that douche, anymore. I got that knocked out of me when I was seventeen. Literally. Now I spend most of my free time with a high school junior,” he laughs, taking another large sip of his coffee.
“Aah, Dustin,” you hum, thinking of the many instances where he had tried to convince you of what Steve had just told you. What made you so insistent on denying believing in either of your friends seems to dissipate, however, just in the friendliness that Steve radiates alone. Damn his charisma. “Would you believe me if I said he vouched for you many times?”
“The kid loves me, what can I say?” He shrugs, not hiding his laughter. “Now. Back to you. Why not tell him?”
No use in hiding it. If Steve can bare his soul in the middle of the day at a damn cafe just to get you to trust him, you suppose you owed him the same. “‘Cause he doesn’t feel the same,” you answer, starting to peel open the snack from the hunger pang. “Why make it weird when there’s nothing that could come from it?” You shrug, looking down sheepishly as the weight of your words sink into your heart like a stone.
“Doesn’t like you. Are you sure about that?” Steve asks, licking his lips.
You hesitate. “Is this a trick question?”
“Nope. I just wonder if you truly believe it, or if you’re too scared to let yourself have something you’ve wanted for so long.”
“Where do you get off on acting like you’re some sort of expert on this?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest. The question rings out from the mere fact that he is dead on the nose. He couldn’t be any more right. The very idea that Eddie had even an inkling of what you had for him scares you to death. You would rather keep him as a friend and lie in wait than lose him from a great love and not have him at all.
“I’m more observant than most people give me credit for,” he admits, twirling his almost empty coffee cup. “I’ve heard countless hours of Eddie talking about you, yet I haven’t heard him speak once about Chrissy. That says a lot, don’t you think?”
“Well, me neither, and I’m his best friend. Don’t get down on your luck.”
“You are both idiots. Just tell him. Seriously. I’m sick of you both acting like a pair of love sick fools.”
“You seem to be very convinced of something that is not real,” you tell him, garbled from the bite of omelet you’re in the middle of swallowing. “If you keep this energy up when you’re studying, you would probably do pretty well for yourself.”
“Fine. Remain in denial. I don’t care. You can destroy yourself from the inside. Who cares? Just, let me in. I need someone to help me with these assignments. They are mind numbingly dull.” He throws his hands up like he’s admitting defeat.
“You need a study buddy?” You laugh, hiding the food that sits in between bites. “I suppose that could be arranged.”
“Sweet. Now are you gonna treat me to a coffee every now and then, or?”
“I have a single father, not an unlimited credit card from Daddy’s big business, Steve Harrington.” You say matter-of-factly, jabbing your finger towards him accusingly.
“Oh, so I have to provide the newly released movies and buy the coffee, I see how it is.”
“Privilege breeds responsibility, Stevie. I don’t make the rules.” You give him a half smirk. As you look at him, you’re finally seeing the person you thought could see all those years ago behind the mask of his terrible friends. Steve’s ambush would be the best thing to come out of the next few weeks.
Because it turned into hell.
-
As your hair runs wild behind you, there’s a grand attempt to allow yourself to let the wind distract you from the sinking feeling in your gut. It grows bigger and bigger, until it becomes unbearable as you reach the gravel lining the trailer park. You allow your bike to fall heavily on the trailer, taking a moment to collect your courage before knocking on Eddie’s front door.
It feels weird knocking. You can’t even recall the last time you did. But, you refuse to overstep any boundaries that might not be communicated yet. Being on Chrissy’s good side will make your life a lot easier.
Eddie answers the door, out of breath and sweating with wild eyes and even crazier hair. “Hey!”
“Hey,” you greet, stepping in right behind him. You blink, taking in the pristine surroundings. It’s like stepping into an alternate dimension, one where Eddie and Wayne regularly cleaned their trailer and preferred the smell of lavender over stale beer and greasy pizza boxes. The kitchen is spotless, the living room has a lit candle sitting on the coffee table, and the shelves containing the million mugs were dusted. “Who are you and what the hell did you do with my best friend?” You laugh.
He chuckles sheepishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as protection. “Uh, is it too much?”
“Better warn her now so she doesn’t get used to cleanliness,” you answer, watching as the surfaces around you sparkle and shine.
“Ha, ha. I have to get dressed. I have some snacks on the kitchen counter. You mind starting the popcorn?” Eddie doesn’t bother waiting for you to answer, already walking to his room.
You get a glimpse of his bedroom as he shuts the door behind him, smirking at the clothes still scattered on his floor. At least one part of this little haven of yours remains normal.
The popcorn shakes in your hold as you continually stir it on the stove to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the thin aluminum bottom and burning. Just as the first batch of kernels reach their limit, a knock from the front door hits, each one feeling like a crack in any normalcy you’ve ever had.
Things will never feel the same ever again. Not after tonight. On your way to open the door you try to tell yourself that it can be a good thing.
Right?
The door opens to the once head cheerleader of Hawkins High, wearing a pink dress that fits her tiny frame nicely with blonde curls and bangs that beautifully frame her face. Her hands are folded behind her back, standing meekly in white sneakers and long lashes and blue eyeshadow. It’s hard not to be envious of how pretty she is.
It’s clear she’s not expecting you to open the door. “Hey! Sorry, Eddie’s just in his room. He should be out any minute.”
“Oh. Ok,” she enters as you back up, wringing her hands together, probably out of anxiety. “What movie did he rent?”
“You know, I was so busy making fun of him for cleaning up for once I didn’t bother to ask,” you admit, hoping to make the atmosphere just a little bit lighter.
She looks around the place, seemingly taking it in. “Hmm,” she hums, walking over to the couch. “It’s cute when they try so hard.”
“Sure,” you answer, walking back to the kitchen, hoping the popcorn isn’t irredeemably burnt. “Do you want butter on the popcorn?”
“Yes please!”
You’re in the middle of mentally begging Eddie to come out already while the butter melts in the microwave, the hum of the microwave loud in the silence.
“Okay! I’m ready!” Eddie announces, opening the bedroom door with a flourish. “Sorry for the wait!”
As he gets to the couch behind Chrissy, he wraps her in a big hug and plants kisses all over her neck. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”
You hold back the nausea as you pour the hot butter all over the popcorn in the large plastic bowl. You find it ironic that this is the same bowl you’ve held back Eddie’s hair over as he hurled into it. You just hope Wayne thoroughly cleaned it.
“Popcorn is ready, can y’all help me bring the chips and candy?” You ask, shaking the bowl to coat the butter over each kernel.
“We can do that,” Eddie answers, grabbing Chrissy’s hand as they walk to the kitchen.
“How can I help?” Chrissy asks, arms open as she looks around a kitchen she has no familiarity with.
“Um there’s some soda in the fridge, grab me and Ed a Coke, and you can grab yourself whatever you want,” you answer, pointing to the twenty year old fridge in the corner.
“Hand me some,” you command, holding a single hand for one of the many bags of snacks Eddie juggles.
The popcorn and a couple dozen little bags land on the coffee table in front of a blank tv screen. Chrissy sits with a soft grunt in between the two of you, cradling the cans of coke and sprite in her tiny arms.
She distributes the cans, handing them over to you and him. Eddie squats in front of the TV, pressing play on the tape which he apparently already prepared to watch. His plaid boxers peek out of his jeans, sitting above the studded belt as he adjusts volume and picture.
You share a smile with the blonde, opening your can and wincing at the loud hiss. You keep thinking about the days you and Chrissy will look back on how awkward this was. How the first days of this trio were so weird, and off putting, and how she thought you were a bitch when she met you.
Where she’s a friend.
You have to try.
“What are we watching?”
Eddie turns around slowly, that over exaggerated smile on his face that tells you he’s up to nothing but trouble. “Oh just a little somethin’”
“Oh god,” you wince, knowing that look on his face. You lean into her, whispering, “Hope you like horror.”
Chrissy turns to you with wide eyes and a queasy smile. “Not really.”
“Oh, this one is a classic,” Eddie promises, animatedly using his hands as he crouch-walks back next to her. “If any movie can turn someone into a horror fan, it’s this one.”
As soon as the music starts playing you recognize it. It’s a tune you’ve heard many times in his living room, subjected to it too many times if you had anything to say about it. Of course, you’ll watch it with him every time, regardless.
“Halloween? Seriously? The serial killer stalking the babysitter? You couldn’t think of anything else?” You roll your eyes. He could probably do a whole reenactment of the movie word for word if he tried.
“It’s a classic for a reason, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you, grabbing the bowl straight away. Of course, he will rip through the popcorn, he always does.
You feel Chrissy tense up, not that you can blame her. You suppose a talk about proper pet names will be necessary.
Each bag of snacks is eventually opened because you can’t stick to one bag long enough to finish it even if you tried. You get bored of the same taste too often. You have your favorite few, fuzzy peaches, M&Ms, Reese's Pieces, Swedish fish, and last and most controversially, at least where Eddie’s concerned, salt and vinegar chips.
He always has his own snacks at his disposal from nights of having the munchies, always on a dollar store run for said snacks. At each movie night he restocks, both yours and his alike, and suddenly you realize you will need to remember Chrissy’s too, if you’re going to be cordial.
With each bloody death that splatters the walls on screen, Chrissy grows closer and closer to Eddie. There’s a part of you that has considered using scary movies to cuddle up to him, but you’re just not genuinely scared of them enough to consider it. The ruse would’ve faded eventually. You try not to let the jealousy eat you up from the inside, no matter how much it burns your skin.
His arm wraps around her, petting her shoulder gently as she whimpers at the slash of his knife. “It’s corn syrup. Totally fake. You can tell by the color, it’s way too bright.”
Towards the end, the loud, chirpy, nauseating sound of kissing fills your ears. Your eyes can’t help it, they move towards the noise and immediately regret it. Oh god, they’re kissing. If you can even call that kissing. He’s practically engulfed her mouth.
Surely, with the company they have, they’ll stop, right? Their heads will remember and sheepishly get the fuck off each other? Right?
Two scenes and what feels like forever, later, you realize how wrong you are. “I’m glad you two are crazy for each other, really I am, but can we please wait until I’m gone?” You give an awkward laugh to try to stifle the discomfort coursing through your veins.
Eddie makes a surprised sound, almost like he completely forgot you were there. “Shit–sorry.”
Chrissy doesn’t make any apologies, in fact, you miss the way she rolls her eyes against his chest. She wanted to keep going, hoping you would take her hint to get lost.
Before long, the end of the movie finally arrives, the end credits rolling with that famous piano tune. Chrissy has practically stitched herself to Eddie’s side, her arms wrapped around his waist. The popcorn bowl is nearly full. All that work on it for nothing.
You sigh, about to claim that it’s your cue to leave when–
“I’m thinking we should show Chrissy one of our pancake nights, don’t ya think?”
No. You don’t want that. From the way Chrissy completely tenses up, neither does she. But for his sake, you both reluctantly agree.
Hawkins looks a lot different from Eddie’s backseat.
As the ring of the bell against the glass door announces your arrival, Martha’s head snapping up from the magazine she’s buried her nose in. “Hey you two, I was wondering when I would see you again!”
You and Eddie walk directly to the corner booth, as per usual, Chrissy trailing a half step behind him with her left hand intertwined with his right. Before Martha walks up to the booth, she starts the blender, the sound oddly comforting for how uneasy you feel.
“Well, looks like we got ourselves a little straggler! What’s your name darlin’?” She asks, the notebook she now holds a dark purple instead of the red she had last time.
Chrissy stares blankly at her, curling back into him. You don’t remember her being this shy in High School.
“This is Chrissy,” Eddie introduces her, giving her a fond look. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Martha’s penciled brows raise straight to her ruby red hair, the chewing gum loud in her silence. Her surprise only lasts two seconds, shifting into hospitality for the new member. “Welcome to these two’s many, many nights spent here at Benny’s. In fact, could you make them come a little less often. We’re starting to get annoyed at them.” She jokes, throwing a wink at you.
You laugh with Eddie, taking note of the fact that Chrissy is still silent.
“Alright, well I already know what these two want, did you need a second to look over the menu?”
She nods.
“Alright, well, I’ll be right back with your milkshake.”
“Can you make it one medium, one large with two straws?” You ask Martha, sure it would get more awkward if she brought one for you and Eddie to share.
“Oh, sure,” she answers, her voice unusually soft.
Less than five minutes later she returns with two milkshakes and a menu.
“Oh,” Chrissy comments, looking curiously at the pink ice cream drink in front of her. “I don’t really like strawberry. Can I get vanilla instead?”
Your forehead meets the table, punishing yourself. “Shit. I’m so sorry! I didn’t even think to ask.” Eddie apologizes.
“It’s fine.” Chrissy smiles sweetly at him.
“Oh, you gotta eat breakfast, it’s tradition,” Eddie mutters, switching her page to the all day breakfast menu.
“Hmm,” she responds, pointing to one of the menu options. “I think I’ll get the poached egg with the avocado toast.”
“Alright. Should be out quickly,” Martha answers, grabbing the milkshake from them.
“How often do you guys come here?” Chrissy asks, turning her face to Eddie.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Probably more often than we should. Like when shit goes sideways, or we need a hit of sugar, or when we just feel like bugging Miss Martha, over there.”
“When did you start coming?”
“My junior year,” you answer, smiling at the memory, “his second attempt at senior year, we both didn’t want to go to the stupid school dance, so we decided to get dressed up and come here, instead.”
“Why didn’t you want to go?”
Eddie shrugs, petting her shoulder with his thumb. “We thought it was dumb. Then, we ened up coming back when both of us failed this one really important bio test. Then, by the third time she remembered our orders and had the blender going by the time we sat down.”
Eddie asks how your day was, so you inform him you managed to have a civilized conversation with Steve Harrington. You have an audience for the conversation, one member animatedly interested, the other politely listening.
Polite is definitely the way to describe it, no spark in her eye. At least, not the one she wears when she listens to her boyfriend speak. In fact, you can practically see them glaze over.
Just as you nearly avoid explaining the main topic of the awkward conversation, Martha comes back over with two plates, one for you, one for Chrissy. It’s only half a moment until she’s back with the new milkshake and third plate.
The mountain of strawberries is bigger than average this time, this larger size becoming something you might get used to if the staff continues to spoil you like this. You take another flick of whipped cream from the top of the milkshake, suddenly realizing you’ve barely taken a sip the entire time. Damn, it’s usually half gone by the time you get your food.
“Do you guys order the same thing everytime?” Chrissy asks, looking at both of your plates.
“Yup!” You exclaim, spreading the strawberry sauce around your plate.
Her blonde brows furrow. “Maybe it’s not good to eat this much sugar every time you guys come here,” she comments, cutting at her squishy green toast. It doesn’t look appetizing to you in the least.
“It’s not like we come here every night,” Eddie laughs, spreading his sprinkled whip around the fluffy waffle. “It’s fine to indulge every now and then, you know?”
“Maybe you guys should try something a little healthier?” Chrissy asks, her voice having what you think is a little bit of a bite in it.
“People don’t exactly come here to eat healthy, Chrissy,” you laugh, thinking of the menu item called Heart Attack Jack, which is a burger doused in American Cheese with layers of bacon and a bucket of grease. It’s not going to be a soccer mom’s number one choice for health.
“You don’t have to bite my head off, it was just a suggestion,” Chrissy mutters, curling into herself.
“I-I didn’t,” you reply, very surprised at her knee jerk reaction. “I’m just saying, if we wanted to go somewhere to eat healthy, we probably wouldn’t pick a greasy diner in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I’m not sure anywhere in Hawkins really has the healthiest choice.”
“Chris, what she’s trying to say is that eating a crap load of sugar is just tradition at this point,” Eddie says, intertwining her hand with his. “It’s a part of our ritual. You don’t have to eat like us if you don’t want to, we just thought you’d want to be included.”
“It’s just a lot of sugar, is all.” She’s barely taken a chunk out of her food, resembling a bunny in the very small, very tiny bites she continues to take. “Maybe I won’t join you guys next time. I don’t really understand the point.” She says sheepishly.
In the depths of your soul, you feel at that moment you would probably never get along with her, have given up hope on her completely. It wouldn’t be for a handful of weeks until you acknowledge that you had sound reasoning.
The bill is paid, money hitting the table on your and Eddie’s parts, the vanilla milkshake just barely touched. If you knew she wasn’t gonna drink it you would’ve doubled down on the strawberry, Eddie hates vanilla.
As you walk out to the van, trailing behind them as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, you find yourself at an impasse. “Eddie, can you give me a ride home?” Chrissy asks. She moves on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Maybe I can ride you before you drop me off?”
The pancakes you wolfed down churn back up your throat, threatening to make their second appearance for the night.
Eddie’s cheeks flush, his eyes wide as he tugs her in. Guess that answers that question. “Um, do you need a ride?” He asks you, almost avoiding your eyes.
Chrissy’s death stare is plain as day, silently warning you not to take it. Fine, you didn’t want to sit in the van with these two, anyway.
“No, it’s fine. I can grab my bike from the back.”
Chrissy beams, her curls bouncing as she jogs to the passenger seat. You hope your ass imprint is uncomfortable for her.
Eddie returns with the bike, putting it gently down in front of you. “Hey, Ed?”
“Hmm?”
“Might want to teach your girlfriend how to whisper,” you tell him, grabbing the handles from him. “It’s not considered a whisper when everyone in a ten foot radius can hear!” It comes out harsher than you intend it, but with how horribly tonight has gone, you can’t bring yourself to want to apologize.
“Oh, fuck,” Eddie swears, the pink in his cheeks now from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t mention it,” you insist, dismissing it. You had a feeling she said it loud enough for you to hear on purpose, anyway. “Just use protection, ok? We don’t need any more Munsons in this world running around, creating chaos.”
If you got Chrissy pregnant I would actually be sick, is what you mean.
“Shut up,” Eddie laughs, wrapping you in a hug over the bike. “See you next time, slugger.”
That was when you changed from sweetheart to slugger.
-
There’s no whiplash like discovering your best friend is a completely different person when he’s in a relationship. On one hand, phone calls with him are as ordinary as always, teasing and jeering and flush with the familiarity of a best friend.
On the other hand, when you meet with him and his girlfriend, he seems to dampen his wild personality and slice it into ribbons for her sake. It kills you.
Reruns play on the small tv, old cartoons Wayne recorded for a rambunctious little kid in his mix. You’ve watched them enough to know some of them by heart, especially your favorite gags.
Eddie sits in the corner of the couch, curled up with Chrissy on his lap as they talk quietly. They’re low enough you can barely make out what they’re saying, but from the giggles alone, you have no interest in the nausea it would give you.
She was already in his lap when you got there, a sarcastic comment choked back having something to do with maybe getting off, opting to sit on the other end.
“Oh, Ed, the movie is next Friday,” you remind him, taking another sip of the ice cold coke in front of you.
“Remind me what that was?” Eddie asks you, peering his chin over Chrissy’s head.
You narrow your eyes, scoffing in incredulousness. “Uh, hello? I did not wait in line for hours for the Princess Bride just for you to forget!”
“OH, fuck I didn’t realize that was coming up so quickly!” Eddie exclaims, a wild look in his eyes. “Well, shit I’ll make sure to free my oh-so-busy schedule!”
“Sweet.”
“Oh, I totally wanted to see that movie!” Chrissy chirps, sitting up in Eddie’s lap. “Are there any more tickets for the night you guys are going for?”
“It’s been sold out for weeks,” you shrug, chomping on a potato chip. “I stood in line for like six hours that morning.”
“Oh,” she mutters, curling into him.
You wish you could say it doesn’t give you great pleasure to know she won’t be able to crash your movie night.
“You think, uh,” she starts, turning around to face you. “You think I could have your ticket and Eddie could take me?”
You scoff, bewildered that this even crossed her mind. “I beg your pardon?”
“I mean, I really wanted to see it and it doesn’t really make sense for you two to go out for a date, now that he’s dating me…”
“I think you forgot the part where I stood in line for six hours to get these tickets,” you reply, trying to catch Eddie’s eyes. He’s avoiding you.
“And I’m sure we’ll all go next time!” She offers as an almost smug smile plays at her lips.
She can’t be serious. After watching her face, you realize she is fully expecting you to give up your ticket so she can go with him. Guess that Iron Maiden concert coming up this summer is off the table, too, you think, rubbing your eyes tiredly.
You look at him, waiting for him to say something to indicate how ridiculous his girlfriend is being, to stand up for you.
Oh. He’s not going to.
“I really don’t see the big deal.” Chrissy scoffs.
Of course you don’t. “I’m sorry, but I’m not giving you my damn ticket!” you snap. “If you really don’t want Eddie to come with me that badly then I can get Steve to take me.”
Which is ridiculous, Eddie was the one who wanted to see this movie in the first place. It looked like it was about adventure, something Eddie loves in movies. You decided then sure, since his birthday is right after the movie comes out, you’ll stand in line for the tickets then treat him to a fun movie night.
If Chrissy is uncomfortable with that, then that’s her prerogative, but she can choose something else to do with her boyfriend since she wants to so badly. You won’t let her walk all over you.
Chrissy doesn’t answer, but she’s clearly upset by yours. “It’s alright, babe,” Eddie hums, tugging her up against his chest so she curls into him. “I can wait until it comes out. We’ll just rent it, yeah?”
You’re not sure which makes you more nauseous, the fact that he just made a plan with her that won’t come to fruition for six months, or that he had nothing to say in the conversation.
You’ve never felt so unwelcome on his couch. “I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you later.”
Whatever comes out of Eddie’s mouth then falls on deaf ears as you fight the tears that irrationally threaten to spill over your water line. They’re stupid, your emotions are stupid, the movie is stupid.
-
Steve sits on the other side of the light brown table in the library, hunched over some notes as you explain the concept to him once more.
“Ugh, this is ridiculous, I’m going to forget this as soon as we learn it,” Steve whines, rubbing his eyes.
“Well you’re only taking Sociology because you haven’t claimed a major yet and sociology is required in most degrees.”
“That’s true,” he smirks, stretching his arms. “This still is all starting to look like gibberish. I get it, we live in a society in which the rules are not in our favor, why does that have to be studied to this intent?”
You shrug. “It’s fascinating.”
“To who?”
You roll your eyes, wondering how he grew on you like a weed. “Alright, we’ll take a break, then.”
“Any plans upcoming for next Wednesday?”
“Uh, no, at least not that I’m aware of,” you answer, putting your highlighter down. “We were supposed to see the movie for it, but, well you know how that turned out.”
“I’m sure there’s something he’s planning,” Steve assures, tapping his pencil rhythmically. “It’s not like him to not make a spectacle of his birthday.”
That, you agree with.
“Dustin said he hasn’t heard anything about it, either. He almost planned a surprise party for him. You think he’s just taking it easy this year?”
You doubt it, he’s turning 21, after all. Not like hasn’t been going to bars since he was fifteen, but now at least he’d be able to go into a major city with his real ID without getting flagged. Last year he prattled on about plans for this one, how he was gonna have a big rager at Steve’s and drop a whole paycheck on kegs.
You’re sure if he was going to do anything in those next two days, then he would’ve told you by now.
That Wednesday morning, you rise early to the sound of your alarm.
The kitchen counter is already filled with the ingredients you need, preparing for a labor of love. You hook your Walkman to your jeans, listening to the music blaring in your ears as you add one ingredient at a time, watching the batter slowly come to shape.
It’s familiar, your mom’s famous homemade recipe for cake batter. After missing her many cakes and the familiarity of her food, you finally searched for the cards containing her neat print, clearly and concisely telling the reader what her recipes needed.
It became your favorite thing to do when you missed her.
As you pour the batter into each divet in the tray, you recall the first time you thought to make a birthday cupcake for Eddie.
Neither of you cared much for first period, so it was easy to catch him before he woke up. That day you presented a vanilla cupcake with a swirl of black and blue frosting. You learned that morning he hates vanilla.
Every other instance of making him a cupcake has been a litany of flavors, but never vanilla.
As they bake, you whip up the frosting with a hand mixer, hoping the low hum doesn’t wake your father. He works so hard already. Red food coloring turns it from white, the process all too satisfying.
A plastic sandwich bag with the corner cut off is always just enough for you to pipe frosting on, the skilled hand you’ve trained after trial and error working fast.
Your dad always knows on February 19th he will wake up to 11 cupcakes on a big plate.
The pastry sits in a comically large container as you borrow your dads truck, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon as you climb the stairs to the Munson’s front door.
You balance the cupcake in your hand as you head straight down the hall towards Eddie’s room. The sounds filling the trailer take a moment to register, for some reason not realizing how quiet it should be on an early weekday morning. The only sounds should be that of an early bird or newspaper hitting the front door.
Dread finds home in your stomach, as if on a very instinctual level you realize what you’re hearing. Though for some crazy, masochistic reason, those instincts wanted to be sure.
His door, wide open, reveals him hunched over Chrissy with the blanket barely covering his broad shoulders as he’s rocking. He’s rocking…and oh, you can hear her, too.
She’s moaning, whining, clawing her nails up his back like a leech, or worse, a tick, digging itself in and refusing to give up the tight hold they have on their victim.
Your mind goes empty, numb, until you hear her faintly wish him a happy birthday. You blink yourself out of the trance, blindly stumbling back into the fresh air of the living room. The cupcake lands on the kitchen counter on your way out the door, not caring as it slams behind you, definitely alerting Eddie and Chrissy of the third unknown presence in the trailer.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to even care about it, the queasiness deep rooted in your stomach threatening to make itself known on the outside plants.
You have a class in less than an hour, something you need to continue into the second year of your Communications degree, but not something that requires brain power.
The simple question of how you managed to ride your bike all the way to the campus, take notes in your class and blindly walk over to the library will always escape you. You somehow watch yourself go through the motions until you meet Steve at the cafe.
The moment he sees you, he knows something is wrong just by the deadened stare that’s taken over your face.
When you break down into tears, he brings you to his house, letting you finally admit to him what you’ve been afraid to admit to yourself.
You’re in love with your best friend. And while you’re doing your best to be happy for him, your poor heart can’t handle it.
-
The cupcake isn’t mentioned until you call him two days later, still heartbroken, but missing his voice. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, despite the great ache that makes each and every day fuzzy.
Usually, more than half the cupcakes get eaten by him, which is why a dozen are made each year. There’s still more than half left, the very sight of the cupcakes depleting your appetite as his continued absence carves a bigger and bigger hole in you.
He answers on the fifth ring, sounding as if he’s in the middle of rummaging through items in some way, slightly out of breath. “Hey, Chris, sorry I can’t find–”
You swallow the pain. Maybe the lump of pain swallowed in your stomach will finally evict itself like the contents of stomachs should. Yet, the more you throw it up, the more it seems to gather. How does that work? “It’s me.” You say dryly, tiredly.
“Shit,” he breathes, the background noise coming to a sudden halt. “Hey, you.”
“Hey. How was the cupcake?”
“The mysterious appearing pastry was delicious as always, slugger.” Slugger. “What-what time did you drop it off?”
You know that he knows that you heard something. He doesn’t know how much you heard, but he knows the slam of his front door was you.
“I didn’t hear much. Just enough to know you had already received your birthday present for the year,” the attempt at humor doesn’t hit you very well. You’re not sure how it’s received, but Eddie laughs regardless.
“Sorry about that, she slept over the night before unplanned. I should’ve remembered your yearly morning cupcake.”
“Should’ve remembered you have a girlfriend,” you answer, wishing you had that better judgment. “Did you do anything for your birthday?”
“Chris took me out for dinner with her parents.” Honestly, that sounds like it was for her more than it was for him.
“Sounds fun,” you deadpan, earning earnest chuckles from him.
“They’re an acquired taste,” Eddie offers, allowing your slight criticism of his birthday party.
“You sure you still don’t want to go to Indianapolis and bar hop?” You can’t help but ask. It’s like you can hear his reluctance to accept the celebration he got.
“Nah. Besides, we can’t risk your fake ID, after all.” He pauses, an understated sigh passing through his breath. “How has school been?”
Small talk is not often something that passes through a conversation between you two. You’re aware of it, he’s aware of it, and it turns the conversation into something almost jilted.
“I miss you,” you admit, lying back on your bed.
“I miss you,” he parrots, soft and sweet.
“Can we do something? Just you and me?”
He chuckles, low and under his breath. “Sure. Pancake night. Just you, me, and Martha’s perfume.”
…that never happened.
-
The less you see Eddie, the more you end up hanging out with Steve. He seems to want to introduce you to his own best friend, but your admission of not wanting to be a third wheel again gets him to drop it. You can’t help but notice the only times you speak to Eddie are when you call him. He hasn’t called you since asking for Chrissy to join pancake night.
That alone wouldn’t entirely convince you to not call him anymore. The jilted conversations always ending with promises of time with one another never coming to fruition. It’s the equivalent of being skinned alive, one strip at a time.
Steve has watched the circles under your eyes darken, the enthusiasm in class deplete, and the lust for life dissolve before his very eyes. To say he’s pissed at his friend is to understate it, he’s ready to tell you to give up on him and forget he exists.
Yet, Steve knows how unlike Eddie it all is. Dustin has complained he hasn’t been called back for a long time, Gareth reached out to you asking if you’d heard from Eddie lately as they haven’t rehearsed for a while. He garners more concern than anger at times.
Steve’s living room has become a new choice of hang out space, but the unnatural cleanliness of the house, the lack of cologne that both Eddie and Wayne use, the familiarity of eight years of friendship, it gives this unrelenting feeling of emptiness. It’s worth trying to fill it with edibles and weed.
It doesn’t seem to work, but you’ve become more open, more free willing with him as a direct result. He doesn’t favor horror movies like you and Eddie, but you find common ground in action and slapstick comedy, instead. Anything but romcoms, you implore. Anything even close to resembling romance is rejected.
Steve spills the latest he heard from Hawkins’ elite country club group, a bunch of ladies with nothing better to do with their afternoons than spread rumors about the population as a whole and judge them for it. Steve knows for a fact which members of the country club have side women, bringing them in hours after walking in with their own wives.
It’s so nice to be concerned with the lives of others and to not care about yours falling apart at the seams. Well, really it's being ripped apart by Chrissy Cunningham’s greedy little claws.
Ironically enough, you get paired up with Steve for a major assignment in Soc class, one required to analyze social constructs that have been deep dived in class. Another little gift of irony is you were given Social Stratification, which is the hierarchical arrangement of individuals or groups within a society based on various factors such as wealth, power, and prestige.
Being from two very different classes, you and Steve find yourself uniquely qualified to discuss the topic.
It provides opportunities to hang out together, distracted by the collective want to not work at all, but driven by an looming due date. Your mind wanders to Eddie non stop, wondering how he is, if he’s ok, if work is still giving him a hard time, did he finally get the belt he was needing, if Wayne was taking it easier.
Your fingers itch for the phone to call and ask, always haunted by the memory of each phone call, the polite conversation and empty promises. You crave to remember what it was like before.
Steve seems to act as your voice of reason, disencouraging you every time you mention wanting to call him. He sympathizes, of course, but he recalls the last time you called him and the aftermath following it.
When the assignment is finally in the last stages, making final edits to clear up any loss in conciseness, the final second guesses if the point has been made clear, you sit on the floor of Steve’s room cross legged, going cross eyed as you reread it, again.
“I can’t wait for this thing to be handed in,” you groan, throwing your pen at him.
“I think we earned a celebration,” he sighs, throwing the pen back to you. “On Friday, after we finally hand over this paper to this asshole, I am throwing a big ass party in your honor.”
“A party will not make me feel better,” you reprimand, glancing at him under your brows.
“No, but a good excuse to drink the pain away, might,” he grins, leaning forward on his stomach and kicking his legs animatedly. He looks so innocent, as if he doesn’t have his own agenda. You’ve come to know him well enough that he really doesn’t. “C’mon. Let loose with me just for one night!”
You reluctantly agree to it after he pulls out his dumb puppy eyes.
News of Steve’s party spreads fast across campus, and you find yourself curiously excited for it when you usually dread dancing with complete strangers. The strangers at this point make it better, not needing to concern yourself with anything other than how the alcohol burns.
Your dad drives you to the party, the rain heavy on the pavement making it hard to bike in such weather. He’s noticed the way you’ve shut down a little bit as of lately, more than happy to bring you to a party if it means putting some life back into the eyes of his one and only daughter.
When you enter the door with slightly damp hair just from the walk from the truck, the party is already in full swing, music overtly loud, bodies bumping and dancing, empty cups already scattered on dusty surfaces.
As soon as you see Steve, he waves you over, talking to Robin, who he’s introduced you to. She became your friend the same way he became your did; ambush. Turns out, Robin is really cool. She hands you a beer, winking as you tilt your eyebrow out of skepticism.
“Beer, really?” You ask over the music, turning the bottle around in your hand.
“You’re drinking to forget, right?” She asks, an air of wisdom in her scratchy voice. “Then what does it matter what it tastes like?”
Well, you guess she’s right. You grab another from the fridge while you’re at it before they lead you to a couch. It’s surrounded by a crowd of people you mostly have never met before, more than happy to laugh with them at the particularly stupid topics of conversation.
You’re already pretty buzzed less than an hour spent at the party, having asked Steve to get you a third bottle. “Might wanna slow down, sweets.”
“I’m drinking to forget, remember?” You ask him, winking cheekily.
Time starts to meld together as the bottle gets emptier and emptier. Robin grabs you by the hand to dance with her and Steve in a circle, top 40 pop acting as a soundtrack while you forget any goddamn trouble that might have plagued you.
You’re chatting about some mindless gossip when something tells you to turn your head towards the door. The door opens to Eddie and Chrissy, holding hands as they look around the party that got even rowdier since your arrival.
Eddie’s eyes meet yours, frozen in place as the emptiness his absence has left consumes you.
“Oh shit,” Robin mutters right next to you, but you don’t answer it as you stumble your way into the kitchen.
The internal debate on whether you need to drink water or more alcohol is roaring, so you drown it with more alcohol. Maybe you can shut it up. It’s too fucking loud. The ajar door opens and closes, a presence in the kitchen you don’t bother acknowledging. You don’t smell Eddie’s cologne, the momentary disappointment flooding your senses that he saw you and didn’t even bother talking to you.
Another sip. Another gulp. Make it go away.
“I was wondering when I would run into you,” it’s not Eddie, or Steve. Confusion takes over you as you wonder which male voice in your life you’re forgetting, turning to face the culprit.
Daniel.
“Here I am, I guess,” you mutter, taking another swig. “What exactly do you want?”
“Retribution.”
“Huh?”
He laughs, cruel and blunt. “I’m here for what I’m owed, sweetheart. I don’t get told no. Girls don’t say no to me. So, I think I’m owed some payback for the humiliation you put me through.”
What the fuck?
The laughter that leaves your throat is loud and abrupt, clearly not what he’s expecting. “Oh my fucking god, you’re just delusional. Girls don’t owe you shit for buying them dinner! You ask us out for a date, that’s on you, bud!”
“I don’t fucking think so,” he growls, slinking in closer. You can smell his breath, he’s clearly been drinking. “I will get what I want, I always do.”
Panic floods your brain, suddenly realizing he’s being dead serious. “Wait–” you protest as he leans in, the wall and your back colliding harshly. “Wait, no–”
“All you had to do was blow me, baby,” he chides, as if he’s reprimanding a small child. His hand harshly wraps around your waist, preventing you from weaving from between him and the wall. “Now look what you made me do.”
You try to push him off, panic continuing to push up your throat as he proves himself much stronger than you. Oh god, am I about to get raped in Steve’s kitchen?
His hand feels slimy as it pushes past your shirt, sending a jolt of shivers down your body. You’re shaking from fear, one cheek against the wall as you continue to resist him. “Stop– Daniel, please stop–” Your voice is frantic, eyes wide in terror as you try to push his hands away.
The harsh laughter directed at your pleas are cut off, an incredibly familiar voice slicing the air with malice. “She said stop.”
The heat you were surrounded by is thrown off, leaving the cold air behind Daniel to overwhelm you as he’s thrown onto the floor.
Blows of fists on flesh fill the room, watching in horror as Eddie has him pinned, delivering blow after blow to his face. You only see a portion of Eddie, his dark jeans and leather jacket as he hunches over his victim and blindingly delivers one punch after the other. Daniel has stopped fighting back, just a limp set of limbs as it jumps from each hit.
When Eddie has shown no signs of letting up you’re forced to jump into action, stumbling as you run into his line of eyesight. “Eddie, stop! You’re going to kill him!” You plead.
The sounds of brutal fists on soft flesh die immediately, Eddie huffing as he rises to his feet. “You okay?”
You blink as his hands frame your cheeks, petting them softly with his hands. A tear falls, splashing his hand. His concern is comforting, but the direct juxtaposition of his concern from the silence he’s fed you the last few weeks washes over you, confusing every emotion that has been hurting.
Despite the sweet shine in his eyes as they watch you, you back from his hold in a jerk reaction. “Didn’t know you still cared about me.”
He wears the hurt from this statement on his sleeve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You wander back over to the fridge, grabbing a beer from the second six pack you’re working through. You pop it open from the mounted bottle opener, taking a handful of sips. “You’re kidding me, right? You haven’t called me in weeks. Weeks.”
He stands there, blankly watching.
“I might be more forgiving if it weren’t for Dustin and Gareth and hell, Steve also saying the same thing. None of them have heard from you. You went from calling at least once a week to radio silence! I wanted to get along with Chrissy. I really did. I started all the conversations, offering snacks, asking questions about her, letting her set her boundaries, but she had something to say about everything we did together!”
Eddie stutters, blinking as he watches you talk. He doesn’t try to talk, doesn’t try to defend himself. You don’t give him the chance.
“She clearly doesn’t respect you, otherwise you would still be my best friend and I would remember the last time we had a normal fucking conversation. I get wanting boundaries, but at this point, I don’t think she even wants you to have friends! Is that what you want? A girl who makes you make yourself smaller for her sake and isolate completely? Really? Because that’s what you have. No horror movies? No more junk food? No heavy metal music? She’s making you shrink yourself so she deems you desirable! Fucking– I can’t watch it anymore.”
“Wait, what do you mean–” he’s interrupted by the door closing, a yelp filling the room as Chrissy runs to him.
“What happened to your fists?” You glance down to them, seeing bruises lining his knuckles.
“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he assures her, putting his hands on her shoulders.
“Alright. Well. I meant exactly what I said. I can’t do this one sided friendship thing with you anymore,” you take another swig, wondering how the bottle was already so light. “I can’t. Call me when you find my best friend, because I haven’t seen him in three months.”
You leave the room, ignoring the calls from his mouth that suffocate you. As you stumble into the living room, you catch Steve’s eye right away, chin trembling. The hot tears that trail down your face have already drenched your cheeks by the time you realize it’s even happening, choking on the emotion that drowns you.
Steve guides you into the guest bathroom, closing the door as he watches you attempt to stop the sobs long enough to tell him what happened.
“I think–” you hiccup, sniffling loudly, “I think I just lost my best friend–” tears rattle through you once again, just saying it out loud feels like lightning in its startling ability to shatter you once more.
By the time the sobs diminish again, you’re sat on the floor by the tub, head sitting in his lap as he pets your hair. You sit up suddenly, mid hiccup as you give Steve an odd look.
He almost asks if you’re okay when you spill over his lap, whimpering between gasps as you know what you’re doing, the toilet only a foot away, but it continues to explode from your stomach.
“I’m so sorry,” you explain, tears falling again, as he sits in shock.
He grins sadly, undoing his belt. “It’s fine, sweetheart.”
He finds someone, Robin, to grab him a second pair of pants, ditching the ruined pair in the bathtub.
The dry heaving seems to stop the tears, now staring blankly with a wet face and lashes that stick together. Steve brings you upstairs, wrapping his arm around your waist as he brings you to his bedroom.
As your head hits his pillow your eyes fall closed, mumbling something about fucking up, about three months ago.
Steve locks his door from any stragglers, walking down each step to find a particular metal head to give him a piece of his mind.
From how your sobs shook your body, he might give him the whole thing.
-
The light cascading through the blinds hurts, like a dagger through your brain as you take in your surroundings. You don’t know how you got into Steve’s room under his blanket.
As soon as you sit up, the pain stabs you, pushing you back down. Ow. You don’t even attempt to get up again until the urge to pee hits you, when it’s too much to ignore. You rub your eye, tip toeing to try to get back under the dark blue comforter decorating Steve’s bed.
On the corner of the bed Steve sits, one foot resting on the other knee as he holds a jade green drink. “How badly does your head hurt?”
You wince at the volume of his voice, placing your hands over your eyes. “Not great.”
He winces sympathetically, offering the smoothie. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Blurry images flash through your mind, the kitchen, Daniel, half of the second case gone. You attempt to remember past that point but it comes up blank. “I remember running into Daniel.”
As you sip on the surprisingly delicious hangover smoothie, Steve watches you, wearing a clear expression of concern.
“Anything after that?”
You can tell he’s egging you on, digging for something with an unprecedented seriousness in his tone. But there’s no memory after that. You gingerly shake your head, which sends more needles of pain through your skull.
“Why?” You ask weakly. Steve pauses, ruffling a hand through his hair as he releases a long sigh.
“You really don’t, huh?” Steve asks, one last attempt. “Maybe it’s good you drank as much as you did, then.”
“Steve, you’re scaring me.” Images of worst case scenarios course through your mind. What did you do?
Steve pats the spot on the bed next to you, double checking you don’t feel the urge to throw up. You don’t.
“Daniel tried to force himself on you.” He’s gentle, compassionate in his admission as he watches your reaction.
Huh. “How far did he–” you stutter, breath hitching as you bite back the sobs that suddenly threaten to rake through your body.
“He was interrupted before he even got that far,” he comforts you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he caresses it. “Eddie sort of bashed his face in.”
Now that you think about it, the memory of Eddie hunched over Daniel as he delivered blow after blow to his nose, his cheekbone, his eyebrow. You didn’t see the final result of Eddie’s defense, but the bruised knuckles you vaguely recall spell out how brutal the retaliation was.
Eddie.
“What–” you pause, stuttering through your breaths, “what happened after that?”
“You yelled at Eddie. Berated him. I think you even told him you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. At least, that’s what I gathered from what you told me,” he admits.
Your blood grows cold. From the weeks of silence, the jilted conversations, the slow resentment that bloomed through your stomach for him. The ache already hurt just from the absence of your best friend, but it was good for you. Fuck, this hurt.
“Is that all?”
He laughs, pulling your head into his neck. “Just that you can’t hold back your liquor.”
That’s why your breath tastes like vomit.
From the extra strength tylenol he gives you, the rest of the morning is spent helping Steve tidy up the trash around his house. Only after spending twenty minutes in the kitchen on his hands and knees scrubbing up the red stains does he allow you to help him. You only catch a glimpse of the paper towel soaked in dried blood and bleach when throwing out red solo cups, a small hint of the mess Eddie made of Daniel.
The thought of his name is a self betrayal, and you work faster once it crosses your mind.
Once the place is clean, you allow Steve to drive you home at his insistence, repeatedly asking when he pulls up to your house that you’re sure you’re okay.
Your dad is at work, not there to ask any questions you wanted to avoid from the previous night, namely why your eyes are swollen from tears. The blinds in your room fall with a trill resembling a xylophone, blocking the sun from your intense migraine.
For the first time in weeks, you’re stirred awake from sleep from the ringing of the phone on the floor that has been pushed under the bed. You let it ring.
Just as sleep pulls you back in, you’re abruptly startled as the phone alerts you again. You roll over, ignoring it as you wrap your head in your hands, curling into the pillow. No one has to get a hold of you that badly.
This person does, it seems, as they call you again. You groan, crawling over the edge as you grab the phone from your receiver. “Hello?”
You refuse the want to chew them out, to take your emotions and friendship breakup out on the person who has interrupted your sleep.
“It’s me.”
You lurch forward in your bed, still tethered to the receiver by the tightly coiled wire as it forces the receiver to scuff against the hardwood floor. Eddie.
-
Eddie’s sat on his couch, limply resting his head on the couch arm as the shrill voice of the main character complains over a problem that could be solved if she had just told someone. His hand rests on his eyes, shielding himself from the light to prevent the headache he can feel coming on. He’s given up on suggesting other movies by now, but she somehow seems to only play the movies that get on every last nerve.
He would probably be more willing to watch the romcoms in question if they weren’t the bottom of the pack. Last time Eddie even suggested a romcom he actually doesn’t completely hate he had to hear about it for an agonizing twenty minutes. Fine. She could watch her movie, he can practice on his guitar, right?
You would think.
So he dissociates and focuses on the gentle petting of his calf as he rests his leg on her lap. His mind floats to his best friend, how much he misses the smell of your shampoo, or when you make fun of the cheesier horror movies he loves to watch. If Chrissy wouldn’t make a near temper tantrum every time your name is mentioned in conversation, he would’ve called you weeks ago. He missed your voice.
Chrissy continues to insist that you like him, that you’re trying to steal him from her. It turned into many fights where Eddie felt like he was losing his mind, insisting he just wanted to see his best friend. There is a stubborn, immovable force still holding hope that something will just click one day and realize just how wrong she is. There’s a little nagging part of him, eating at his brain, warning that it probably won’t ever come true.
The possibility is almost too much for him to mentally handle, because when it blows up in his face and you decide not to forgive his radio silence, he doesn’t think he will be able to handle the absence in his life. So he procrastinates the detonation.
“I’m surprised you’re not going to Steve’s party,” Chrissy chirps, interrupting Eddie’s disarray.
Eddie blinks, trying to recall any mention of a party that might’ve slipped his mind. That might’ve been the reason for his ignorance if he could remember the last time he even spoke to Steve. He’s sure Chrissy knows that.
“I didn’t even know he was having one.”
She grabs at the extra material of his jeans, pulling his attention. “Did you want to go?”
He mentally rattles through the mechanics of going to Steve’s stupidly large house, knowing damn well his distance has managed to drive you straight into the arms of someone new, even if it’s only platonic. You’ll be there, the chance much more likely than not.
He wants to see your face, even if it’s in passing. He wonders if Chrissy sees you there if she’ll decide to leave early or just avoid you altogether. But it’s just the chance that drives him to agree.
By the time he gets there, vehicles have already littered the streets surrounding his house, some even audaciously blocking his neighbor’s driveways. Chrissy’s hand is in his as he walks in, anxiously looking around the party for you.
He peers into the living room, to the couch containing members of some of Steve’s closer acquaintances and it wasn’t long until he saw you, sitting right next to Robin holding the bottleneck of a beer bottle.
Your eyes are already on his, wide and still as you stare at him. You’re even prettier than he remembered, any polaroid he’s ever had of you does absolutely no justice to your radiant smile or vibrant eyes.
Fine, you’re staring at him like you would rather be anywhere else for the moment, panic flooding your features, but it’s a breath of fresh air for him compared to his last few suffocating weeks. As you stumble to your feet, Eddie tricks himself into believing that you’ve gotten up to talk to him until you pass the front entrance straight into the kitchen.
He supposes he deserves that, fading as Chrissy tugs him to the dance floor. His hands find her hips, allowing himself to get lost in the relentlessly catchy pop tune. He can’t help but allow his eyes to float back over to the couch every now and then, something in him carnally needing making sure that you’re safe.
Alarm bells go off, goosebumps trailing over his skin as something in him screams that you’re in danger. You could very much just be avoiding him, which he wouldn’t blame you for, not for one moment, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he found out his worry had any footing.
“Babe, I’m gonna grab a drink,” he mutters, blankly kissing her sweet scented blonde hair before his long legs take him to the kitchen.
His stomach drops as your voice fills the kitchen, asking the asshole with wandering hands to stop as he forces himself on you.
The next thing he knows, Daniel is under him, his back slammed on the floor with a face scrunched up in pain as Eddie’s fists are flying. His fists, his jeans, the floor, the whining little shit’s face, it all gets painted with blood.
Eddie doesn’t realize when the pair of arms stop trying to push him off, or when the green eyes no longer stare at him in horror, shut from the trauma of one blunt hit after the other. He just continually bashes his face in for even daring to attempt to force himself on the woman he loves.
Fuck this guy. Fuck him.
Eddie’s blind with rage, but he’s also blind with his own regret.
Your voice cuts through the anger, a warning that seeps in his brain like a sponge. If he keeps hitting him like this he will end up taking his life.
He stands up, facing your trembling form as you seem to be in shock. You melt in his hold, tears spilling over his hands as he caresses you, doing his very best to take care of you. He knows the answer when he asks, but he has to hear it from you.
Finally, the words seem to sober you from wanting his comfort to the hurt that you’ve felt from his silence. You lurch yourself from him, staggering blindly to the fridge as you grab another beer. The scent was harsh on your breath, the sight of you glugging back as much as you can sends jolts through his system.
Then you tell him everything. And he deserves it. He wants so badly to tell you how badly he wanted to call you, but the excuses sound lame even in his own mind.
When you tell him you’re done is when he finally snaps out of his own trance. He knows what you mean, but surely, you don’t really mean it? Before he can ask, Chrissy comes into the picture, doting over his bruised knuckles, ignoring you completely as she asks what happened. He’s fine. He’s not, but he’ll say anything to get back to what you were just saying.
Choked back sobs escape as you tell him with absolute finality that you are done, tripping over your own feet when you leave through the kitchen door.
No, this has gone too far. Eddie hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol but feels as if he’s wasted from stumbling after you, blocked by his girlfriend.
That conversation goes as well as can be expected.
In the hours following, he doesn’t seem to find you anywhere. But without Chrissy trailing after him, he finds himself free to converse with friends he’d missed, meeting their snide remarks of coming back to the land of the living with grace. Eddie stays for hours, half heartedly partaking in any conversation he finds himself witness to just in case you make another appearance.
Steve walks down the stairs after what feels like forever, wearing a grim look on his face. Eddie approaches him. “Hey have you seen–”
“She’s upstairs,” Steve answers, sighing. “Passed out. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning.”
“Is she okay?”
“Didn’t choke on her own vomit, at least,” Steve quips, his voice harsh. “Physically, she’s okay.”
Steve moves to walk around Eddie, seemingly done with the conversation.
“Physically?”
Steve sighs, angry, frustrated. “She just sobbed on the bathroom floor for an hour and a half, Ed. I literally watched her heart break! Safe to say, I don’t think she’s doing so well emotionally.”
“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, feeling hopeless, like he should’ve been there to take care of you instead of being the cause of your suffering. “Steve, I–”
“Listen, Eddie. I just heard a bunch of shit from her that I’m not even sure she knows that she said. Other than her I guess telling you to fuck off, what else happened?”
Eddie gulps, not exactly wrapping his own mind around it, yet. “I found Daniel Moore trying to force himself on her.”
“Jesus,” Steve mutters, passing Eddie straight into the kitchen.
“Steve–” Eddie tries to stop him, or warn him at least, wondering how no one else has seen him, yet. There is almost no reason for most to make their way into the kitchen as the drinks station is in the living room, but usually a straggler or two, especially couples would make their own way in. He’s definitely not up and partying from the blood that seeped through the shirt he was wearing…
Should Eddie have called the ambulance?
“What the fuck–” Steve barks, taking in the crumpled form before him. “Jesus, Eddie, what happened?”
“You listen to your best friend beg someone to stop assaulting them and not beat the shit out of him?” Eddie retaliates, watching as Steve double checks to make sure he’s still breathing.
“Well, now I gotta get him out of here before someone has you fucking arrested,” Steve mutters, wracking his brain through old morally questionable friends of his that would help with no questions asked. Fuck. He has a few favors to call in. “Where’s Chrissy gone?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Eddie spits.
“Considering she has control over who you’re allowed to spend time with, probably somewhere nearby with binoculars,” Steve mutters, a fragment of seriousness in the joke.
“Well, not anymore,” Eddie shrugs, feeling surprisingly pragmatic about it.
“Oh.” Took you long enough, Steve thinks. “I’m gonna get him out of here, but I suggest you do the same.”
“Can I stay? I wanna be here when she wakes up.” His eyes pleading to Steve.
Steve’s brows raise. “Respectfully Eddie, I don’t think she really wants to see you.”
“I haven’t been able to tell her anything for weeks, I’m staying!” he insists, crossing his arms like a petulant child.
Steve shakes his head, leaning on the counter. God, he wished he hadn’t invited a few dozen people to come to his house for the night. “God, you’re an idiot.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re an idiot. You’re both idiots, but, man I think you’re the bigger one.” Steve walks around the kitchen island, getting unreasonably close to him. “I don’t know if you’re blind, or just selectively ignorant. She loves you, dude! She was willing to support you getting a girlfriend, but then you just shut her out. It’s gonna take more than an apology to be back in her good graces. When she wakes up with a killer hangover, I think the last person she’ll want to see is you. God, if one of you just made the jump years ago this never would’ve happened!”
Eddie’s heart drops at Steve’s angry words, refusing to believe any of his feelings for his best friend are reciprocated. “Sure, because three months of friendship tell you everything you need to know about a person.”
Steve chuckles, walking over the snoring asshole as he steps out to the living room. “I would have to be blind not to see it. She talked about you one time about this stupid fucking movie she watched with you and I could tell. Rather than telling your girlfriend that you have a best friend and she has to get over it, you shut her out. For weeks. And left someone else to pick up the pieces.”
“Steve, I know. I know I was being an ass–”
“Then why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you give her a call? You had to know she wasn’t going to forgive you so easily–”
“Of course I fucking knew that, Steve! Why do you think I put off letting it explode in my face?”
“Because you’re an idiot! She loved you. She loves you! If you can’t see that then I really don’t know what to tell you. Listen, if you call her tomorrow, I’m not all that sure what would happen. It’s gonna be a while before she’s ready to forgive, bud. For now. Maybe you should go.”
-
“Oh,” you sigh, hugging your knees into your chest, feeling small. A war rages in your mind. You were hurt enough by him to break your friendship off with him, but you don’t even remember it. The other side of you just wants to be close to him again, willing to sink into the apologies that he owes you and happily accept them.
But you shouldn’t. And you know you shouldn’t.
“Do you wanna come over for a movie?”
You want to come over and watch a movie so badly, it wraps around you and constricts your airflow. “Will she be there?”
“No. Just me and you. I promise,” Eddie swears, voice low enough that it resembles a whisper. “She won’t be, uh, crashing our movie nights anymore.”
You diminish the pulse of hope that threatens to bloom. “What do you mean?”
Eddie sighs. “I was hoping to tell you in person, but we broke up last night…come over, I’ll tell you more. I just need my best friend…and a horror movie…and junk food, god, I miss junk food.”
You miss him so much it hurts. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
The bike ride sends pulses through your head, worsening the ache of the hangover. If the pain isn’t gone by tomorrow, you might just ask someone to shoot an arrow through your head to put you out of your misery.
It’s been more than long enough since the last time you were on his front door step, nervous as you hesitate to knock. Eddie’s footsteps are rapid and loud as soon as your knuckles hit the door, the opening to him, wide eyes, graphic t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. He appears unlike himself, almost tired. You wonder if you noticed it last night.
Before either one of you says a word, he tugs you in, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace in his scent. Overwhelming emotion takes over, his shirt absorbing the tears that fall. He feels like home, every part of him. His scent, the muscles flexing under your grasp, his steady breaths.
“I missed you,” he mutters, his voice low, choked, even.
Then why didn’t you call me? “Me too–” you whimper, squeezing onto him even tighter. You sniffle, curling your head into his neck.
The hug lasts forever, or at least long enough for your arms to become numb.
Your butt lands on the couch, the spot that was once permanently marked by you now weirdly lumpy from the lack of use. Did Chrissy know she was allowed to sit in her own seat on the odd occasion? On the coffee table, Eddie has already prepared the popcorn and your favorite snacks, only your favorite snacks. Three movies are laid out, all awaiting their turn in the VCR.
“What’s this?” You ask, rubbing your nose from the snot.
“Uh, three movies. Pick one.”
You read the titles, Back to the Future, Friday the 13th, and Labyrinth. “What happened to wanting to watch horror movies?”
“I have a lot of sucking up to do before I get to be picky with our movie night,” Eddie answers, his voice gentle and careful. “Pick one.”
If he says so, then you’ll have to pick your favorite, rather than his favorite. “Alright, then, Labyrinth it is. David Bowie in leather pants, here I come!”
As the movie plays, a teenage girl desperate to find her brother, you sink into the comfort of the ratty old couch. Through Eddie, you found out that the rattiest couches are actually the most comfy. The more tears and rips, the better. Eddie stands up, running to the kitchen to grab fresh cans of soda from the fridge.
He sits back down, handing you a Diet Coke while popping open his own. Two things you notice when he sits. One, he’s remarkably close, his ass nearly planted in between the cushions. Two–
“Since when did you start drinking diet coke?” You ask him, wincing at the aftertaste.
“Since Chrissy was such a stickler for sugar,” he answers casually, grabbing a bite of the popcorn.
His simple tone, emotionless and understated, squeezes your heart. “What happened with her, anyway?”
Chrissy blocked him, staring at him with wide eyes as she held his shoulders. “What–what is going on?”
“I need a minute,” he stuttered, attempting to walk around her.
“Did you do that?” Chrissy asked, pointing to the lifeless piece of shit on the floor.
“Chris, it’s really not a good time, right now. I will tell you later, I promise. I’ll be right back.” Eddie promised.
She blocked him again, hands pushing on his broad shoulders. “You’re not seriously thinking of going after her, are you?”
“Chrissy, she’s my best friend! That creep just tried– I have to go check up on her, make sure she’s okay!”
“You mean the girl who is pathetically in love with you?” Chrissy asked, belligerent and full of sass. “Sure, go and give her more false hope! She was practically all over you at the diner, mooning over you, desperate to take you out on a date, I mean, don’t give her fucking hope!”
Eddie sighed, rubbing his face angrily. “I don’t know how many times I need to fucking tell you, Chris. She is just my friend. She was being nice, trying to include you. I’m so fucking tired of this conversation!”
“So am I!” Chrissy crossed her arms, popping her hip out. It was times like these Eddie was absolutely sure of why Chrissy and Jason dated for so long. “You know what? Fine. Me or her.”
“What?” Eddie was unsure if she was being serious.
“Pick! Me or her? Because when you pick me maybe then she’ll get the fucking hint!”
It was the easiest decision he’s ever made in his life. “Her.”
Eddie finishes explaining it, mostly nixxing the parts where she berated you or talked shit. You just needed to know the part where she practically had a temper tantrum.
“Wow,” you mutter, remembering how you called Chrissy sweet when they first started dating. “And…you, you picked me?”
“Of course I did.” Eddie pops a kernel into his mouth, leaning back into the couch. His body heat is warm, his scent intoxicating. “You’re my best friend.”
“You haven’t called in weeks, Eddie.” It comes out quietly, the hurt overflowing in your body and pouring out your mouth. “I thought you had a new best girl.”
Eddie sighs, grabbing your hand. “If I could take back the last three months, I would. I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“I missed you so fucking badly,” you admit, focusing on how your hand feels intertwined with his.
“I missed you. I know– I fucked up, but believe me when I say, I missed you so fucking much.”
On one hand, it’s hard to believe him. It seemed like it was so easy for him to cut you off. On the other, the glint in his eyes, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, gentle and unequivocally vulnerable.
Eddie leans forward, connecting his forehead to yours. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”
“You have a lot of making up to do, mister,” you inform him, pulling away from him to lightly nudge his hair.
“And a million strawberry mountains covered in strawberry sauce,” he answers, kissing your forehead softly.
“You really had me worried,” you admit, taking a good look at his face. “I believe you when you say that you missed me, but Eds, you hurt me. I want to trust you, but–”
His movement is swift as he grabs your face with his hands, pulling you in close. “I know, baby, I know.” The pet name takes your breath away, music to your unsuspecting ears. The name wraps itself around your like a warm hug, melting all those months of worry and panic away. “I’m so fucking sorry, if I could just–”
Maybe it wasn’t the right timing, months of silence, unanswered questions, hurt, but all that just conveniently disappears the moment his lips touch yours. You startle, jerking backwards as you look at him curiously, looking for something that’ll tell you he’s not kissing you out of pity, or obligation.
You’re met with the exact way that he always looks at you, but this time, it’s radiant. How did you miss it this whole time? You smile, wrapping your hand behind his neck as you tug him in, entangling his lips with yours and chasing that emotion that ran through you the first time.
Eddie meets your kiss with enthusiasm, grinning madly as he pulls you in closer, your body flush against his as he pulls you down with him.
It’s maddeningly enchanting, the way you can taste his minty breath and his hums against your lips, buzzing and tickling. His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip, pulling a gasp as you happily meet his with yours. Your skin feels electric as his hand sneaks under your shirt, as if he’s just getting the feel of you.
You sigh, curling your arm around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. His kisses trail along your jawline, down your neck, pressing sweet kisses down your jugular. “You taste like strawberries,” he mutters, audibly smiling. “I should’ve known, all those damn strawberries you eat.”
“Before we go any further,” you gasp, clutching at his t-shirt, “and believe me, I want to, you owe me a proper date.”
“Taking you out for a date, baby?” He places more rapid kisses on your neck, letting himself absorb your laughter. “God, I’m lucky.”
-
You’ve learned one thing for absolute certainty, Eddie Munson knows how to grovel. Between the many kisses you’ve shared that night you tell Eddie with surety that just because he knows how to kiss doesn’t mean he’s suddenly forgiven. Eddie relishes in that, grinning just because you’re kissing him.
The previous night he was losing his mind at his ex-girlfriend’s terrible movie choices, and you, his best friend, the person who has always known him best, you’re finally here kissing him. You could ask him to write a 1000-page apology letter entirely in rhymes or haikus and he would do it heartbeat, but all he’s required to do is prove it?
He’s more than willing.
When the date is proposed, he swears he would love to take you anywhere. He provides a list, with all of the restaurants you know he can’t afford. When you ask him and inquire about such, he shrugs casually. There’s a silent question there, wondering if Chrissy had even considered his wallet size before their date nights.
Instead, you answer with, “Our first date should be the diner, no?”
You’ve never been so nervous before, looking through your small arsenal of date night dresses. He’s seen all of them, whether from a school dance or the aftermath of a date gone sour. One dress catches your attention, at the very back of your closet covered in plastic, just waiting for the right time.
White, with blue flowers hand embroidered on the bodice, a sweetheart neckline and bubble gum pink ribbons tied together as the straps. Periwinkle blue that bleeds into mint green leaves along the hemline, fanned out into a hoopskirt. You’ve stared at this dress when it sat in your mom’s closet, asking when it might be your turn to finally wear it.
The dress fits you like a glove, looking remarkably close to the photo on the easel downstairs, a first date 25 years ago that ended up being one of your favorite bedtime stories.
As you finally make your way down the stairs, hair half up in curls in a ribbon matching the ones on the dress, your dad looks at you with pride and glossy eyes. Whispered words of the resemblance as he hugs you, eyes too tired for a man in his forties from loss and stress, a whiff of gratitude hits you.
It’s a warm spring evening, no need for a coat as the van pulls up with the usual melodies of heavy metal and drumming. You make your way down the sidewalk to his passenger side, butterflies erupting as you open the door.
The volume is turned down to a background noise, the heavy metal feeling oddly out of place at such a low volume. “Hi, sunshine.”
You grab his hand, petting at his calloused skin. “Hi.”
You feel his eyes on you, taking in the dress that is on its first night out in decades. “I don’t know how you show up looking this good and expect me to act normal.”
You grin, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and sniffing at the leather. He can’t say shit like that and expect you to go on like normal. “C’mon. I haven’t had a strawberry milkshake in ages.”
You open the window just a crack, appreciating the scent of fresh grass in the spring. New beginnings, fresh starts, rebirth. It seems oddly poetic.
He pulls up to the diner, bright neon lights against an evening sunset. It looks as if it’s painted, yellow into orange into blue. A lonely diner isolated sitting against a watercolor sky, but one of your favorite places in the world.
The bell ringing feels like an old song you haven’t heard in years, bringing some bittersweet nostalgia.
Martha perks up, the diner even deader than normal with only a lone man sitting on a bar chair holding a milkshake like a beer. The comparison sends a gag reflex through your body, never wanting to even smell another beer in your lifetime. As you sit next to Eddie, in such close proximity that the other side of the booth is useless, Martha appears with a cheeky smile on her face.
“If you two aren’t on a date, I’ll eat my notebook,” she sighs, hands on her hips as if she’s chastising two kids.
You and Eddie glance to one another, debating on fucking with her. It’s all the approval she needs.
“Finally! If you came in my diner again with those puppy dog eyes of yours I would’ve about had it with you two. Now, are you getting your regulars again?”
Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulders, his thumb petting the bare skin of your shoulder. “I’m disappointed you haven’t already brought the milkshake, Martha.”
“Smartasses. The both of you!” She walks off, a brand new pep in her step.
His thumb turns under your chin, pulling your face towards his. “C’mere. I need to make up for the times I just wanted to kiss those pretty lips in this booth of ours.”
“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, breathless as you stare at his eyes.
“I didn’t think the prettiest girl I know would want to kiss a goofball like me,” he chuckles, self deprecating and vulnerable.
You shake your head sadly, sighing happily. “You are so wrong.”
His chuckles are interrupted by your kiss, clutching onto the cotton t-shirt clinging onto his chest. It’s like you to forget how to breathe, taking the moment to take a deep breath before kissing him deeper, harder.
Your tongues meet, wrapping together with his and leaning forward to be as close to him as possible. His hand lands on your thigh, petting it roughly as he teases you. You hated yourself, hated how you told him you wanted to wait, because it’s becoming too much. The need for him sits deep in your stomach and begs you for any resolve from his teasing hands.
His kisses keep you only so satiated, whimpering by the time your make out sessions are done and ready to beg him to touch you already.
The glass of pinky sweetness hits the table, interrupting his electric lips on yours. “If you two do it, at least have the decency to take it to the bathroom like every other patron.”
You yelp, avoiding Martha’s eyes as Eddie tugs you in against his chest, kissing your temple. “Yes ma’am,” Eddie obeys, saluting with two fingers. Two, very distracting fingers.
You take a sip, humming. After weeks, you will proudly proclaim that this is still the best milkshake in town.
Eddie kisses your cheek, pulling you even closer. “If you lick that whipped cream off your finger, so help me god.”
It’s a habit of yours, one you’ve done at least once a visit just to get a taste of it before it sinks into the milkshake. The numerous times you’ve done it sinks in, unknowingly teasing him. “Something wrong with tasting whipped cream, Eds?”
“When you do it with that tongue of yours, yes,” he mutters, nipping on your jawline.
“Why don’t you have a taste,” you hum, taking a scoop with your pinky, licking it up.
Eddie pulls you in, humming as his tongue reaches out for yours to grab a taste of the cream melting fast in your mouth. He pulls back all too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he tuts his tongue. “Mmm. Yum. Thanks, baby.”
The milkshake is nearly gone by the time Martha rolls around again, pancakes and waffles in hand, interrupting soft conversation and sweet nothings.
He finally tries a taste of your pancakes, eating from the fork you offer him. His face winces, screwing up as he chews on it. “That strawberry sauce is sweet, ain’t it?”
“A little sour, I guess, but it’s my favorite. The fresh strawberries are a nice little addition.” You tell him, cutting up the pancakes.
“I’ll stick to my sprinkles,” Eddie mutters, dipping a piece of the big fluffy waffle in the whip. “They are the best.”
“I have a question,” you mutter, relishing in the taste of the sweet strawberry sauce. “How-how long have you liked me? Was it more recent, or have you liked me for years?”
Eddie smirks, placing a stand of hair over your shoulder. “Years.” He chokes back the correction of the word like, cause it’s so much more. “The first time I saw you, you were giving one of the football dicks hell for picking on one of the scrawny little freshmen. And I mean, berating him. You’re shy, baby, but not when it comes to others.” He pauses, chewing thoughtfully. “I knew from that moment.”
Oh. It was a handful of months before you found yourself sitting by the hellfire table, shaking your head at their antics. Plus, Gareth was just plain wrong in his opinion, you shook your head disapprovingly as you dug your nose in the book. Eddie caught on to it, demanding you join their group and inform him of how wrong he was. You did. You didn’t realize how charming Eddie was, how welcoming and genuinely kind.
It took your breath away, especially how gorgeous he was. The crush was kindled from then on, only being nurtured as you continued to debate him and his friends on their nerd culture.
Eddie followed up with the same question, asking how long ago for you, too. You tell him that very story, of how he enamored you just from being around him.
“You know, by then I was already head over heels for you,” he admits casually, sipping the last of the milkshake. “Something about sticking it to the man just does that to a guy.”
“Those dimples of yours are a weapon.” You admit in kind, and he laughs. You drop your jaw incredulously. “They’re a weapon! You think your hands are the only things those girls call magic?”
Eddie leans in, hot breath on your ear sending ripples down your neck. “And have you thought about these magic hands of mine, sweetheart?”
You gulp, licking your lips as your heart races in your chest. “Maybe...” You say softly.
He hums, tentatively kissing your skin. He really shouldn’t be doing this in a public space, you think, attempting not to wiggle at the uncomfortable feeling of arousal pooling in your panties. “I can’t wait to show you just how magic they are.”
You hold back a whimper, choking on it as your eyes flutter shut at his tentative kisses.
“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” You nod, watching as he places the right amount of bills with a decent tip for Martha.
On your way out the door, Martha shouts her goodbyes, happily yelling out her congratulations as the glass door slams behind you. Eddie’s lips find a home on the back of your hand, holding it as he kisses loudly, tickling the skin.
The trailer sits alone in the park, all lights off as he pulls up. With the turn of a key, his arm wraps around your waist as you walk in sync. It’s familiar as you help him turn on the lights, domestic, even. His jacket is off, tossed on the couch as he tugs you by the hand towards his room.
You’ve thought about it so many times, whisking away into his room with him to devour him completely. Usually it occurs when you’re mad stoned, happy and horny, but too blizted to make a move.
Your hands curtain the back of his neck, thumbs petting the nape of his neck and tangling themselves in his curls, rubbing in small circles. His lips connect to yours, stumbling over dirty laundry as he guides you to his bed. “Hmm, strawberries.”
He yelps as lands on his back, laughing as you collide with an oof. The playful moment is quickly replaced with intensity, staring down into his brown eyes, darkened by desire. Across the years of being his friend, he’s darkened his eyes in many moments, right before he decides to pin you down and tickle you senseless or when you talk down on yourself.
There were moments when his intense gaze took you aback, mostly when you innocently used too much enthusiasm in eating ice cream or put your hair up in a ponytail.
Or when you wore a sundress that sat a bit too high on your thigh.
All these moments suddenly make sense, filling you with a gust of emotion as you grab at him, tugging him harshly for a kiss much more powerful than you knew you had in you. He gasps into it, deep and desperate against your lips as you pull him closer. One of his hands travels downward, hiking under your skirt and grabbing at your thigh, your knee pulled up against his stomach.
Eddie turns you over on your back, hands grabbing at the skin harshly, his rings pressing at your skin hard enough to create an indent. Your leg wrapped around his waist tugs him down, his chest landing on yours.
“Question, my love,” Eddie mutters, words intertwined with his kisses. “Why the hell haven’t I seen this dress until now, it’s…oh my god.”
You grin against his lips, pushing your hands past his cotton shirt. “Waiting for a special occasion.”
“You telling me I could’ve seen this ages ago, baby?” He gasps, wrapping your tongue against his, delicate but enough to make you mewl into his mouth.
“Probably.”
He nips your lip, a punishment for your cheekiness. “It’ll look better on the floor.”
Your hips grind up, meeting the bulge in his pants just right. “You can’t say stuff like that–” you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck to hold on to him pathetically.
“You have no idea the things I’ve wanted to say to you.” His hand travels further up, passing the waistline of your panties and spreading on the skin of your tummy. “All the things I’ve held back…”
The admission is thrilling and terrifying, giving you almost everything you’ve ever wanted.
Now if you could get that bike you wanted for Christmas when you were twelve…
“Can you tell me now?” you ask, smiling up at his pretty, bewildered face.
“Hmm, patience,” he tuts, using his hand to explore. “Right now I just really want to touch your pussy, please, baby, please.”
It’s your turn for bewilderment. He’s acting like touching you is this great honor, instead of a means to an end like anyone else you’ve slept with. “Uh, yeah, I want that. I really, really want that.”
Eddie sighs, using his traveling hand and dipping it under the waistband of your panties. As his best friend, you’ve gotten so comfortable around him, arguably too much. Late nights in his room with a t-shirt and panties as his room fills with smoke. Eddie is only human, appreciating them too much as as you sat cross legged with the strip just a tad too thin for what it was supposed to cover.
This particular pair is decorated in lace up the front, a sheer lace for the bum, a light blue to match the flowers. His fingers latch to your pussy, delicately moving them up and down the folds.
“Oh my god,” he sighs, playing with the slick and spreading it. “You’re so wet, all this…all this for me?”
He adds more pressure, rubbing small circles and watching you throw your head back and melt in the heat that spreads across your thighs and takes form in a tremble, in a shake. “F-feels good.”
“Yeah?” he asks, placing his thumb on your clit and rotating it in tiny circles. “You like the way I play with your pussy, baby?”
You frantically nod, grinding up against him. “Need..need more. Please? More?”
“What does more mean?” He leans in, decorating your neck with sucks and bites and licks. “You want me to lick it, baby? You need my fingers, you already beggin’ for my cock? C’mon my girl, use your words.”
You might just beg for his cock, but you don’t want it to be over so quickly. “Want–want your fingers, Eds.”
He giggles, planting a nice wet kiss on your lips. “That’s my girl.” He doesn’t wait a second, curling one finger past your entrance and pumping it slowly, building a slow momentum that pulls at your stomach. He sighs, husky and deep, “Fuck, it’s so tight.”
He removes his finger without warning, not commenting on the moan in disappointment that escapes your mouth. He sits up, grabbing at the waistline as he tugs them down your legs, slowly, carefully, savoring in the moment. He lifts up the skirt, exposing the landing strip that sits waiting for his eyes.
“Did you decorate your pussy just for me? It looks so pretty… Thank you, baby girl,” Eddie is borderline emotional in his gratitude, showering you with praises.
Your legs attempt to close back together in embarrassment from his intense stare. He notices it, pushing your legs back down. “Do me a favor, won’t you? Keep these legs open while I eat your pussy.”
You drench your thighs, turned on even from the mere idea of being with him. “Mmkay.”
“You–” he gasps, delicately licking at the mound. “You taste so good. Wanted to bury my face in this little cunt for so long.”
His hands lift your thighs up and over his shoulder. His mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing, listening to the cues you give him through your quivers and whines. The dress is completely covering his face, hiding the man that is eating you out, slowly and carefully, as if wanting to taste every drop of arousal you feed him.
Before long, your legs start shaking in his hold from the pleasure that has your hands tangled in your hair, eyes squeezed tight as he pulls whine after whine from you. One finger slides right back in, facing no resistance, sucking on your clit simultaneously. That arches your back and curls your toes, gasping from his build up, his words, god just from the years of mental torture.
You cum against his lips without warning, for him or yourself, twitching around his fingers and crying out his name.
He coaxes you through it, kissing your pretty pussy lips gently until your legs stop convulsing. Sweat beads on your forehead, spreading on your back and neck and making the thick fabric of the dress too hot. You untie each ribbon, desperately grabbing at the neckline to pull it up and off.
He kisses up your torso, laughing as you get stuck with the dress half off. One heel digs in his back in retaliation, whining as you gesture to him to help you. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute.” Eddie giggles.
You whine, kicking your legs for him to hurry up. Your hair is stuck in your dress. It lifts over your head, a light bra covering your tits acting as a tease for him. The dress lands on the floor, nice and splayed out as it’s done its purpose.
You roll your eyes, tugging him in for a desperate kiss by the neck, wandering hands moving south to tug at his t-shirt. “Wanna see you, too,” you confess, helping him rid of his shirt. “Show me those tattoos.”
“You like the tatties?” You nod enthusiastically although you know he’s just teasing you. “Oh, I bet ya do. Probably ogled them while I wasn’t lookin’ huh?”
With a chest like his, you don’t imagine he could blame you. You let your eyes speak for you, raking over his covered chest and openly staring. “Wanna suck your cock.” You look up at him with big doe eyes, silently begging.
Eddie’s eyes widen at your admission, groaning as you start to undo his jeans. “Fuck, I don’t know if I’ll last that long…I need to be buried in you, wanna feel that pussy around my cock.”
You gulp, wrapping your legs around his torso so his jeans meet your pussy, probably drenching a wet spot on the front. “Me too…but I remember you said you didn’t really get reciprocated very much.” You inhale, gathering courage. “I remember thinking how I’d love to spend hours with your cock down my throat.”
Eddie keels over you, curling his face in your neck as he whimpers. “You were holding that back from me?” He punches the mattress right next to your head, a mild temper tantrum. “What other depraved thoughts have you been hiding from me?”
“You want me to tell you, or show you?” You’re not sure where this surge of confidence is coming from, but you’re running with it, especially if it means you can hear him make that sound again.
“Sh-show me- want you to show–” he nods, whimpering into your neck and shuddering.
“Mmkay,” you muse, smirking at just how easily the shoe falls on the other foot. “Get on your back.”
He complies promptly, wrapping his arm around the small of your back and turning the two of you over. You straddle him, grabbing at his chest carefully as you plant kisses all the way down his lean torso. You bring teeth into the mix, sucking and biting and marking your territory.
You’ve been itching to do so since he showed up one morning with bruises decorating his neck, claiming his hookup got a little too eager.
I'll show you eager, you begrudgingly think, wishing that all the boys were teasing him from bruises you gave him, instead. God, there was one planted on his collarbone that was excessively large, annoyingly so.
You mark your way down his chest, his stomach, lapping greedily at his treasure trail as he whimpers at your enthusiasm. This is power, you think to yourself, wondering what other noises you could conjure from him. As your mouth moves, so do your hands, undoing his belt slowly, taking your time as you unzip his fly.
The evidence of his arousal is strikingly clear, his boxers bulging out of the open fly and begging for your attention. While your subtle glances downward gave you an inkling of his size, his hardened cock presenting itself to you, even disguised in its plaid wrapping, had you letting out a gasp in unbridled lust.
You wrap your hand around it, gleaming as he hisses, a hushed swear passing through his lips. You watch his face, observing him as you place your lips on the covered shaft, just letting him feel the heat of your breath on it. “Oh, fuck–” Eddie chokes, letting out harsh shudders.
The sight of his face is borderline angelic, all of his walls down as he focuses on you. You can’t help but smile at that, at how you desperately wished for nights like these, only paying attention to one another. You poke your tongue out, drenching the cotton fabric with your spit, working your way down the length.
At his little whines, you finally curl his fingers under his waistband, drooling at the taut cock that pops out, giving you a friendly hello, swaying from the spring. You smile ear to ear, delicately wrapping your hand around the base.
You kiss the tip, lapping at the pearl of precum that gives the clear indication of his arousal, as if his hard on wasn’t enough. “Mmm,” you hum at the salty taste, leaning in to suck every last drop from his flushed tip.
You let the saliva that has pooled on the surface of your tongue drool onto his cock, spreading it down the shaft, absorbing the moan he rewards you with. “Shit, that feels–oh my god.”
You smile with pride, finally taking him into your mouth, enthusiastically bobbing up and down on his length. Your eyes remain on his, watching him as his face melts, committing it to memory.
“Oh, Jesus,” he swears, hips rutting up, clawing further into your mouth. You take him in further, gagging on it as you wrap your tongue around it experimentally, choking loudly and purposely. “Ch-choke on it, yeah, ch-ohmy god, just like that–”
Your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth, slobbery sounds of spit on flesh, his and yours, deliciously wet. He tenses up beneath you, whines growing more desperate, moans huskier, deeper. It’s a marvelous melody, one no composer could make even if they tried their hardest.
“St-st-stop,” he stutters, curling over himself, writhing under you. “Stop–I-I’m gonna cum.”
Reluctantly you listen, lifting your head off him with a pop and cheekily smiling at his heaving chest. You crawl upward, yelping as he wraps his arm around the small of your back and tugs you in for a kiss, more powerful, wrapped in an unnamed emotion you couldn’t possibly let yourself be delusional enough to define as. The one hand crawled up your back undoes the clasp of your bra, tugging it off your arms and flinging it across the room.
“Gimme those tits,” Eddie sighs, kneading them in his hands and toying with the flesh and nips. “Oh, they’re so pretty, baby. I love them, I‘ve wanted to play with them for so long.”
Eddie’s legs move under you, kicking off his jeans while holding you close to his chest. You sit up, tugging him up with you as you hover just over him.
His skin directly on yours, close and toe curling as you straddle his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you stare into his eyes. There’s a glow in them, eyebrows relaxed as he holds your hips, staring up at you with such enamour. “Want your cock,” it’s only a whisper, but loud in the intimacy between you two. “I want you.”
His brows furrow, only a moment. The thought passes through him quick as a flash, but you see it.
“What was that?”
He smiles, relieved and tender. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He leans in, pressing kisses on your clavicle, your neck, your shoulder, the swell of your breast. “Not-not just like this. I mean, fuck, I wanted it, so, so bad. But…I’ve wanted you, wanted your late nights and early mornings, to help you when you need to study, wash the dishes…sorry, I’m rambling.”
You pet his cheek, shaking your head. “No. Keep going.”
“I mean, we’ve always sort of had that, you know? It was just torture, not kissing you stupid whenever I wanted…because I wanted to. I wanted to, so much, baby. I love you. So much. You’re my best friend, my person, and I just love you so fucking much.”
A breath of a laugh passes through your lips, attempting to absorb what he had just told you. “Really?”
You smile, holding him tightly as you kiss him, sighing happily as he confirms, nodding frantically. The head brushes against your entrance, pulling a whine from you. “Eds, I-I love you, too.” The kisses get more fierce, Eddie clinging onto you harder and nearly attacking your lips. “But…if you don’t fuck me soon I might actually lose my mind,” You giggle.
He laughs, combing his fingers through your hair, away from your face, from the sweat. He slaps his cock against your clit, teasing you with his head. “Of course, baby, you wanna ride me, hmm? Hop up and down on my big fat cock?”
You nod, biting your bottom lip, hissing when he pushes his head in, watching as your jaw drops. “Oh, look at you, I knew you could take it like a good girl.”
You choke back a whine, swallowing hard as his words have such a strong effect on you. ‘Fuck, f-feels so good.” You stop, mewling as the burn of his girth becomes too much.
“Don’t rush yourself, baby, it’s okay.” He puts his hands on your hips, digging into the soft flesh. “So nice and tight, fuck.” His eyes practically roll to the back of his head.
You sink further, taking him deeper as the burn bleeds into bliss and back to burning again. “Jesus, s’good.”
“Mm, almost there, baby.”
“Move, please. Eds. Need-need you to move.”
Eddie chuckles, large hands holding your back. He lifts his hips, slowly filling you to the hilt and bringing it back out, one hand landing by his side to use it for leverage. You chirp out his name, mewling as he slowly rocks his hips. “Love the way you say my name,” he gasps.
You start rocking, slowly lifting your hips as you assist him. “You gonna make me scream it?”
“If that’s a challenge, then I will happily accept,” Eddie growls, gripping onto your hips harder and pulling you down so the union of where your bodies meet hurts in the best way. “Wonder when those legs will give up, hm?”
“I’ve thought about riding you on the couch too many times to give up easily,” you admit, giggling at his wicked grin.
“Oh, have you now? Been wearing those little panties just so I’d snap and ravish you, hmm?” He asks, hair wild as he watches you bounce on him.
“Maybe,” you admit, though that was mostly just out of comfort and trust of your best friend. “You have stronger will power than I thought you would.”
“Hmm, you think too much of me, baby,” Eddie mutters, framing your face with his hand and pulling you in for a kiss.
Admittedly, your legs are growing tired, but you soldier on, connecting your forehead with his desperately and watching his eyes glaze over. Your head already feels hazy, heat building in your stomach as you rapidly climb towards your climax. “You getting close? About to cum on my cock?”
You nod, startling in your movement as he starts to move you quicker with just the tightening of his grip on your hips. “Eds,” You whimper as he rubs his thumb on your clit, rapid movements as he hurdles you towards your orgasm, your cunt tightening around him as your eyes roll back.
“Lemme feel you squeeze my cock, baby, wanna feel you cum all over it.” Almost as he demands it into existence, you finish with a start, twisting your toes together and hunching over his shoulder while he rolls his hips, gasping and whining and mewling. “Oh, that’s my girl. Here, bet those legs’re gettin’ tired, hmm?”
You nod, giddily giggling as he maneuvers you on your back. “God, I love you. I really really do. I don’t–I don’t know what the fuck I’ve been thinking–”
You slap your hand on his mouth, giggling at his wide eyes. “Sorry, but…shut up. Rail me. Destroy me. We have time for all that later, now quit getting all emotional on me.” You take your hand off his mouth and pat his cheek. “Be a good boy and make me scream your name, won’t you?”
He chuckles deeply, his jaw dropping as he nips on the palm of your hand. “‘Be a good boy,’ hmm? Yes, ma’am.”
Okay, this turns you on too much not to eventually dissect it, but Eddie’s hips start moving, harsh and raw and brutal, just as you asked for. With each collision of his hips comes a whimper from the force, each one louder than the last.
His head curls down into your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin as he sucks and bites and laps his tongue over the pain. “Look at your neck, all marked up. All mine,” He rasps.
“All yours,” you whisper, choking on the emotion that fills your throat.
“My good girl who loves to get fucked hard, hmm?” He chuckles, curling his arms tightly around you. “Oh, listen to those pretty little noises you’re making, so pathetic for me, oh fuck.”
“Ed-keep-oh-oh–” you gasp, whining higher and higher.
“Yeah, just like that. Pathetic little princess.”
Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in close, skin to skin, all sticky and sweaty as the smell of sex fills the air.
“You’re moaning like a desperate little slut but you’re not screaming my name, yet. Can’t wait for it. Hmm? Why you makin’ me wait?”
“Maybe you’re not hitting hard enough,” you gasp, a smile spreading across your face.
Eddie’s eyes widen, lifting his body off yours quickly. “Oh yeah? Hands n’ knees. Turn around.” He sends a jolt of fear through you, eyes widening as move into a crawl position. “That’s a girl.”
His hands tighten on your hips, lining himself up and pushing in all within the span of 3 seconds. He’s relentless with it, lurching forward as he grabs a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, I can’t hear you.” He taunts you, pulling deliciously at your scalp.
He starts moving faster and harder, clumsily planting his lips on your back, messily trying to take any claim he can on you. One hand slaps your ass, Eddie hums, appreciating the print of his hand on your skin. Moans pass through your lips, the loud ones that Eddie was asking of you. HIs name is added into the mix, cross eyed and desperate as he somehow increases his force.
“There we are. Where do ya want me to cum, baby, I’m so fuckin’ close.”
“Cum–cum in me, Eds. Fill me up.”
“Fuck-you, y’sure?”
“Fill. Me up.” You say again, getting your point across.
“Oh fuck–” he stutters, jaggedly rutting into you as he bends over you, filling you up with sticky white ropes. “You feel that, baby? Fuck. You feel all full?”
Eddie releases the hold on your hair as you fall forward, breathing heavily as you collect yourself. He pulls himself out, collapsing right next to you. His arms easily wrap around your back, pulling you in against his chest. You curl into him, sighing happily as you listen to his racing heart.
You lay like that for a while, listening to his breathing even out as he pets your hair gently. He plants a kiss on your forehead, humming. “Why did that take us so long to do?” You ask, still trying to regain control over your breathing.
“Hmm?” He pulls away, processing your question. “Oh, I don’t know. We’re idiots.”
You tug him back in, feeling sleepy as you smile against his chest. “Yeah. Big, big idiots. I love you, idiot.”
He hums, pulling you in tighter. “Love you too, ya idiot.”
It’s strange. You thought it would change everything if he were to finally be yours. It doesn’t change anything, banter traded as always, only with a caressing hand that tugs you in for a kiss when he teases you. Hormones go wild, finding resolve in one another as movies are no longer watched, just a nice background noise.
-
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bold means it wouldnt let me tag you so I DM'd you in private to you know.
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader smut
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hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if you’re going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to r’s sex life bc they’ve never thought to b otherwise… enter Hawkins’ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can 💖🫡
ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D — eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)
Eddie’s face appears from beneath the covers — pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. He’s still got his ringed fingers wrapped ‘round your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity he’d had when his face was shoved between them.
He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. “Is this okay?” he slurs between labored pants.
You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s— it’s good,” you answer breathlessly, though you don’t think that describes the half of it.
There aren’t enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How you’re throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.
“Okay. Good,” he huffs with a lazy nod.
His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you know? ‘Cause you weren’t… You weren’t really… Saying anything.”
He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. “What was I… What was I supposed to say?” you squeak.
“Nothing!” he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. “It’s just… Most— Most people moan when they feel good and stuff…” His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. “I mean, you’ve heard me. I’m fucking loud.”
He is. He’s more than loud, actually — full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when you’re with him ‘cause he’s constantly rambling about how good you feel.
“Fuck, baby, that’s good— Oh, shit,” he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.“Gonna make me cum— so fucking hard— in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuck—”
You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin.
You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.
“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly. “I just… I guess, I’m just quiet. I don’t know.”
Eddie smiles like he isn’t wearing your slick all over his chin. “That’s okay,” he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. “But you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”
You blink at him until you realize the question isn’t rhetorical.
His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod.
“Be as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you want…”
—————
He’s a menace.
Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.
He doesn’t eat your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you — like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life.
Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. It’s like he can’t help but be so sloppy. Like he can’t help but drool all over your pussy ‘cause he loves it so damn much.
“Eddie, please,” you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. “I wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.”
If he’s doing all this to get you talking, well, it’s fucking working.
His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out — mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like he’s found heaven in your pussy.
“Shit,” he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. “You taste too good… Got me all distracted… Wasn’t tryin’ to tease you, babe, I swear.”
He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. “Fuck, Eds,” you gasp — back arched, head thrown back.
“Need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more.
“Please, Eds,” you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good he’s making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.
Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. “Wanna cum?” he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. “Wanna cream on my tongue?”
You whine at the vulgarity of his words — and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.
Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. “Then keep talking for me, yeah?”
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things imagine#eddie munson imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble
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Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.
A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰
WC: 3.8k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers
Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice ��️🌶️
Divider credit to @saradika
“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”
“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”
You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down.
“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”
He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.”
He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them.
“I’m serious.”
Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”
“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint.
“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?
“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”
He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office.
Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again.
Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground.
You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner.
What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone.
Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl.
Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates.
“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”
Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”
You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”
She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”
Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around.
Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.
The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe.
Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves.
“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing.
“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination.
Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though.
A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.
“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman.
Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction.
You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen.
Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone.
The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”
“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”
A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”
Eddie smirks. “One…two—”
Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits.
Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself.
Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land.
His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though.
Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet.
“Are you okay?” you ask.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?
Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk.
In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside.
Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit.
“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”
“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you.
“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”
“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds.
“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”
“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”
“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”
He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”
“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so.
“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”
A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”
“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”
“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”
Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”
“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”
He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey.
All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—
A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”
“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”
“Don’t care.”
Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies.
Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs.
Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately.
“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.”
You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch.
Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter.
“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you.
The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice.
One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible.
“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”
He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom.
The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.
“Get the fuck out!” you hiss.
Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.
Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.
“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.”
Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them.
Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”
You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind.
“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”
“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle.
A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”
“Only for you,” you echo.
He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”
The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror.
When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.
“Atta girl,” he praises.
At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”
The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle.
He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”
You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip.
“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading.
“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached.
“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”
You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.”
Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl.
One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”
“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles.
“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”
He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you.
Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him.
A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.
“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.
“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”
Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in.
The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.
“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.
“Yeah?”
“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had.
Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”
A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.
“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”
A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can.
“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”
You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”
Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur:
“You read my mind, Beautiful.”
--
#eddie x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#fanfic#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things#smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut
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