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shybunnie20 · 1 year

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Totally in the mood for an angsty eddie or steve blurb 🥺 and the way you write is just...*chefs kiss*. Can you do something off of "from the start" by Matt Schuster? This song and your writing would probably make me sob ngl

Eddie Munson x Reader x Player!Steve Harrington

★My Masterlist

Summary: Your intuition forewarned you that Steve is nothing but trouble, yet you couldn't help but be taken with him. When you grow tired of the situationship with Steve, your metalhead weed dealer provides a glimpse of something sweeter.

Author's Note: I'm sorry that this took forever to get done. I just finished OTMB, which was intense, so I needed a break from extreme angst. This might not make you sob but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

This is not a Steddie-related fic. Reader has a relationship with Steve and Eddie separately. Steve is not a nice guy in this, sowwy. Moderate angst & fluff. Be sure to reblog, follow, and show some love ♡

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: MDNI 18+ Substance use, mentions of sexual relations, insecurity, unrequited feelings, includes swearing.

Friday evenings in this dingy small-town bar are usually uneventful. More often than not, you’re just looking to get out of the confining qualities of your home. It’s freeing to watch the world breathe around you, despite this establishment not being particularly awe-inspiring. Besides the perpetually sticky chairs and cloudy glassware, this place has charm.

One of your favorite aspects of being a regular here is watching the local talent test out their latest material. Due to the other bargoers being less than enthusiastic about what’s happening on stage, you’re sure to give compensatory applause. When you're tipsy, you have the tendency to whistle and whoop too. Tonight’s act is a cover band playing upbeat billboard hits and they’re not half bad.

Sitting in the far back corner not only allows you to fade into the background, but also provides an unobstructed view of the room. It’s the best spot in the house for watching drunkards engage in senseless fistfights. You’re currently seated at the booth that you’ve long since claimed as your spot. You stare at the liquor that swirls inside of your glass with the back-and-forth motion of your hand. Your eyes flit upward to observe your surroundings and that’s when you spot him leaning on the bar.

You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a throbbing between your legs. You’re practically drooling but to be fair it’s a lot to take in. Steve’s voluminous brown waves are styled to look effortless, though he dedicates time to molding each hair into place. Scattered constellations of moles span across his cheeks, jawline, and neck. They effectively guide your gaze down to the tuft of coarse curls peeking from the undone buttons of his shirt. Although what really has your attention is how his Levi’s hug his glutes as if they were tailored by God himself.

The thumping music becomes muffled to the point that you can no longer decipher the lyrics. An unknown force coerces you to continue checking him out from your place across the room. You try to convince yourself that he isn’t that handsome. But much to your frustration, you get dizzier with every swig he takes of his beer. It might be your buzz, or perhaps it’s the loneliness that dwells during these late hours. Whatever it is, you’re too far gone to be saved.

There’s a whisper of foresight in the back of your mind but it's promptly silenced when Steve turns his head and looks directly at you. You pray that the lighting is dim enough to conceal your deer-in-the-headlights expression.

A suggestive smirk forms on his lips while he examines your appearance. He’d noticed you gawking a few minutes ago but nothing beats the ego boost he gets from being eye-fucked by strangers. It makes him feel like “King Steve” again and that’s a rush he’ll never stop chasing.

As he approaches your table, you smooth a hand over the part in your hair in a blind effort to fix your appearance. Who are you trying to kid? You look anything but composed.

Steve doesn’t sit in the booth nor does he stand to the side. Instead, he positions himself right in front of you and takes a seductive sip of his beer.

It’s common courtesy to greet someone as soon as you walk up to them, but he hasn’t said anything. He’s giving you the chance to take him in, in all his glory.

“Hi, there.” You take the reins, aiming to embody a fraction of the confidence that Steve is exuding.

He doesn’t immediately respond because he’s relishing the way your eyes are traveling down his chest to his fingers and eventually making their way back up to his face. A few beats pass before he replies. “Are you here alone?”

You nod modestly and he beams boldly at your wordless answer. You’re relieved to be sitting down right now because a smile like that is enough to bring you to your knees.

“When I see a stunning person like yourself sitting by their lonesome, I’m inclined to offer them company.” He says with a tilt of his head.

Before you have a chance to register his intimation, Steve offers you his hand and leads you out the back door to the alleyway. The chill of the garnet brick starkly contrasts the heat of your exposed skin as he presses you against the building. He slots his knee between your legs and chuckles smugly at the way you’re gripping his shoulders and biting your lip. You hate how good it feels, not just the friction but also the thrill of being desired.

The alley is rather dark so the two of you are relying on your other senses. The impossibly lustful kissing is fueled by the red-hot desire surging through your veins. Steve’s fingertips explore beneath the hem of your shirt and caress your hips. By your breathy reactions alone he can tell how starved you are for affection and he intends on tasting whatever you’ll let him get his hands on.

In a matter of seconds, the intensity shifts and he begins kissing you with purpose. Almost as if this is something more than an impromptu back-alley makeout sesh. Steve pecks across your jaw to suck and nibble at the delicate skin along your pulse. As bruises bloom in the path of his lips, you’re warmed by the notes of cedarwood and vanilla emanating from his expensive cologne.

Candidly, you’re not one to indulge in behavior like this because you know that anyone who’s out at this hour isn’t looking to fall in love. This instance is no exception regardless of how romantic it is to be kissing beneath the stars.

Only later did you realize that Steve swept you off your feet before you could deny him the opportunity.

Unsurprisingly, it’s been a few days since you’ve heard from him. The endless cycle continues as it has for months. Steve says he misses you, the two of you hang out and sleep together, he goes MIA., and then you’re left waiting for the next phone call.

It would be generous to call it a friends-with-benefits dynamic. In spite of the hours you spend consuming each other's presence, Steve doesn’t see it as anything beyond two friends fooling around. He gets all of the perks that a boyfriend gets without any of the responsibility. You, on the other hand, have created an illusion of companionship. Steve takes more than he gives, but you don’t see it that way. It’s unfortunate that you’ve gotten yourself into a mindset where the bare minimum on his part appears to be the utmost effort.

Once in a while, he shows a glint of something more promising than whatever this is. You catch a glimpse of vulnerability from a side of Steve that you desperately want access to. You cling to those moments with the hope that if you offer yourself unconditionally, he’ll eventually want to be exclusive. The spark in his hazel eyes lit the inextinguishable flame that is singeing your heart to ash.

Within the casualness of the time that you spend together, there are occasions where a kiss is shared that instills the belief that your profound feelings are reciprocated. But deep in your bones, you know it's only fleeting. Ergo, you enjoy the short-lived fantasy until it inevitably comes crashing down once more.

The two of you share some chemistry but it’s not a perfect match. Steve is aware of the effect he has on you and he uses it as a means to keep you at his beck and call. The thing is, you’d felt special until you realized that the way Steve talks to you is how he talks to everyone. For some reason, you allow him to string you along. Can you do better than him? Definitely. Do you deserve better? Absolutely. Do you have the confidence to demand it from him? Nope.

Every time your phone rings, he sinks his claws deeper into you. Your attachment to Steve has an immense amount of power simply because of how badly you want to be loved. You eat up every crumb of attention and wait for more, no matter how much it pains you.

You’re torn between dying to see him and admitting that you should move on to greener pastures. Just when you uncover a sliver of self-worth, he calls you. It’s like he can sense when you’re slipping out of his grip and he needs to reel you back in.

It’s the waiting that causes you to question your decision of continuing to see him. While Steve is busy with some long-legged distraction, you’re confronted with indignity. If you had known it was going to hurt like this, you wouldn’t have joined him in the alley that night. While tangled in his sheets thereafter, you failed to recognize that he’d never pick you to be his one and only.

Nevertheless, you can’t stop missing him. You shouldn’t look forward to the way your bed smells after a night with him, but you do. The product is borderline intoxicating. The smell of your clean sheets having been tainted with his hairspray, sweat, and musk. You’d be a filthy liar if you denied sleeping with articles of clothing that he’s left behind on occasion.

Thinking that hearing his voice will help satiate the craving, you pick up your phone and punch in his digits. It rings four times before he picks up.

“Hello?” Steve answers with a winded huff.

You can’t resist the smile evoked by the sound of his voice. “Heyyyy, it’s me. What’re you up to?”

“Why the hell are you calling me?”

You glance at the clock and see that it’s not very late so you couldn’t have woken him. “Oh, uh. I miss-”

Despite Steve placing his hand over the microphone, you can hear him speaking to someone else before he addresses you. “Listen, I’m really busy. Don’t get in the habit of calling me out of the blue ‘cause it makes you look desperate. Try not to be so clingy, okay? You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Before you can apologize, the line clicks. Tears dribble over your waterline but you abrasively brush them off with the back of your hand. You’re not stupid, you know exactly what you just interrupted. His breathlessness made it painfully obvious. You can’t honestly expect someone like him to spend his nights alone.

Steve is not yours and you’re growing tired of wishing he was.

In order to dull the heartache brought on by the fact that you’re merely an option, you’ve rekindled your relationship with Mary Jane. There’s nothing quite like wading in a pool of dopamine that causes your brain to bob like a buoy in the soothing tides of fabricated bliss.

Having smoked the remainder of your most recent baggie, you’re here to obtain more bud. The surrounding woods chatter as the brisk wind weaves through the branches that overlap across the dreary sky. For the two years that Eddie has been selling to you, he’s been characteristically late to the meet-ups. According to him, he’s on schedule in “Eddie Time.” You don’t mind because it gives you a chance to soak in the solitude and get some fresh air.

Out of all of his customers, you’re his favorite by a mile. The easygoing connection that you share makes this side hustle worthwhile. Even though he doesn’t know you all that well, the exchanges have always felt relaxed, familiar, and safe.

Eddie arrives seven minutes after you’ve settled at the picnic table. He takes a seat in his usual spot across from you, his metal lunchbox clattering when dropped onto the tabletop. “Couldn’t bear to stay away any longer, huh?” Eddie smiles genially and pops the latches of the tin.

You grin weakly with a lowered gaze while wringing your hands. “You know I can’t keep myself from you, Munson.”

Right off the bat, Eddie detects your pensive energy but he chuckles lightly anyhow. “We met up a week and a half ago, don’t tell me you burned through that bag already.”

“I sure did. I was hoping to buy an ounce or two this time.” You absentmindedly knock your knuckles together.

Lifting his brows and tipping his head forward, Eddie looks at you through his lashes. “Shit, an ounce? I don’t think I’ve ever sold you that much at once.” Eddie straightens his posture but keeps his shoulders slack. “I know it’s none of my business but uh, is everything okay?”

Your weary eyes finally meet his watchful ones. “Yeah. I’m fine.” You release the pent-up pressure from your lungs with a sigh and drop your stare back to your hands. “I’m just dealing with some personal stuff.”

Eddie doesn’t know if you’re as comfortable with him as he does with you, so he decides to test the waters. “Do you wanna talk about it? I like to think that imma pretty decent listener.” He quips, watching to see if you have it in you to appreciate the lame humor.

You know that you can confide in Eddie but you haven’t processed your feelings for Steve to the extent of being able to voice them without sounding insecure. Not to mention, you’ve lost a considerable amount of sleep over the notion that you’re part of a rotation of people that he sleeps with. At least he tries to be discrete about it and doesn’t rub it in your face.

To credit Eddie’s attempt at making you smile, you audibly force air through your nose. “It’s nothing a little bud can’t help” You gulp, swallowing the realization of how pitiful that sounds. The amount that you’re asking for is by no means a small quantity. “Are we good for an ounce then?”

“No can do, sweet pea. I wasn’t under the impression that you’d be buying in bulk so I brought your usual half.” He tosses over a pre-portioned baggy containing the best nuggets from his current supply. He always gives you the good stuff.

Eddie feels bad for lying to your face because he does have more on hand but he doesn’t want to encourage a poor coping mechanism. Rather, he wants to put you in higher spirits without you actually having to get high. “Y’know, one time I got so stoned that I ordered fifty dollars worth of Chinese food.”

Your eyes widen as they find Eddie’s again. “No way. How did you manage to do that?”

While rubbing his forehead, Eddie chuckles at the recollection. “I had an insane case of the munchies, right? Shit, I kept forgetting I’d already placed an order. When the delivery guy showed up with six bags, I was so goddamn confused.”

You cover your mouth to camouflage your amusement. Even with repressing the urge to giggle, Eddie can see a sparkle as you wait for him to continue.

Eddie beams dazzlingly and embellishes his storytelling with dramatic hand motions. “Dude, I wish I was joking. So here I am, sitting in my bedroom with like- the entire menu’s worth of food. I’m talking egg rolls, chow mein, sweet and sour chicken, and cream cheese wontons. The whole nine yards.”

The warm tone of your laughter melds with the rolling breeze. “Please do not tell me you ate all of that in one night.” Judging by the furrow of Eddie’s brows and the way his cheeks retract to bare his teeth, you’re foreseeing the answer to that question.

He throws his hands up defensively. “You know damn well it doesn’t taste as good having it as leftovers.” Eddie chuckles with a pained expression, thinking back to the stomach ache he got from that night. “After that fiasco, I’ve made sure to stock up on snacks before smoking.” Eddie shakes his head but his smile doesn’t wane just yet.

To put it plainly, cheering you up is rewarding for him. He hates seeing you so heavy-hearted when you have the sweetest laugh he’s ever heard. Eddie is pleased with himself for having succeeded in livening your mood even if you won’t fill him in on the details of your troubles.

“I’ll keep your cautionary tale in mind then.” After a couple of stray giggles, you grab the plastic baggy that he’d tossed over. A folded twenty-dollar bill is pulled from your front pocket and held out to him.

Eddie’s smile falters. He accepts the cash and watches as you stand to leave. “Now I don’t wanna see you back here so soon, you got that?”

“Roger that.” You nod and give Eddie a double-digit salute as you step away from the picnic table.

“Pace yourself, sweetheart! That’s potent stuff!” He hollers with the remnants of his smile as you disappear at the forest’s opening.

It’s been several days since that call with Steve. You now find yourself at home watching MacGyver reruns while folding freshly dried laundry. Without question, you lack the enthusiasm to cook dinner tonight. It’s difficult to get yourself to when you’re bogged down from Steve withdrawal, so you wind up munching on potato chips. Part of you is glad he hasn’t called but if you’re being honest with yourself, you miss him.

You’re growing bored of sitting around but there isn’t a whole lot else to distract yourself with besides getting high. Luckily your telephone rings before you can legitimately consider baking edibles. You hope to god it's not Steve but it is around the time of night that he routinely scoops you up to take you back to his place.

You answer reluctantly. “Hello?”

“Hey, how’s it going?”

You hesitate, putting the voice to a face. “Eddie?” It’s unheard of for him to reach out to you. He’s never called you before. Normally, you contact him when you’re running low on weed.

“Bingo. How’re you doing tonight, ya got any plans?”

As much as you don’t want to admit how uneventful this Saturday night is, you don’t feel pressured to make it sound like you’re having the time of your life. “Um no, no plans. Why do you ask?”

Eddie gulps. “Well, I was wondering if you wanna hang out.”

“Do people usually kick it with their drug dealers?” You ask teasingly with a giggle at his proposal.

Eddie snorts. “Nooo, I just got to thinking, we’ve known each other for years now but we don’t really know each other. I guess I’m curious to see what you’re all about. I hope that’s not too forward-”

“Not at all. I’d love to get out and do something. Pick me up in forty-five minutes?”

“Yeah, I can totally do that. Uh- see you shortly then.”

Finally, you have somewhere to be other than rolling around in Steve’s bed.

When it comes to buying from Eddie, you normally show up in whatever you’ve got on at the moment. Although, you’ve never spent time together like this before. Taking a glance down at your current threads, you realize that you need to find something else to wear. Crumbs fall to the floor when you brush them off of the t-shirt that hangs loosely over your chest.

Despite not being on a personal level with each other, you know that he’s anything but judgmental. Hypothetically, you could get into his van in your current outfit that has mystery stains and dime-sized rips. Eddie could give a shit, but the nagging self-consciousness is overpowering.

You manage to put together an ensemble that’s equally as comfortable as your pajamas but far more presentable. You’ve just finished slipping on your socks when there’s a rhythmic wrapping at your door. You shove your feet into your shoes and tie them hastily before opening the door.

Eddie’s expression is glowing when his eyes meet yours. “Ready to go?”

You nod with a grin and step through the threshold, pulling the door closed and locking it.

“Alright then, let’s blow this popsicle stand.” He tosses his car keys into the air and catches them.

While making your way toward his van, you chuckle at his vibrance. “So what did you have in mind, anyway?”

Eddie takes long strides in order to beat you to the passenger side door. He aggressively jiggles the handle until it unlatches and swings open. “I was thinking we could get some grub, my treat.” He holds the door open with one hand and offers his other as leverage.

Has your stomach been growling all night? You hadn’t noticed that the potato chips failed to hold you over until now. “I could eat.” You appreciatively place your hand in his and maneuver into the passenger seat. Steve never holds doors for you. You forgot gallantry even exists.

After jogging around the front of the van, Eddie rips open the driver's side door and slides onto the seat. He slots his keys into the lock cylinder and turns the keys over. The engine sputters to life. “Atta girl,” he presses his fingers to his lips and rubs a kiss on the dashboard.

You assume he’s taking you to Benny’s Diner but that’s not what he has planned. The drive to this undisclosed location is taking longer than you anticipated. Fifteen minutes have sailed by with the help of music seeping from the crackling speakers and mellow small talk.

After cruising along the outskirts of the neighboring town, Eddie turns off of the barren road onto the gravel that surrounds a small burger shack. It’s a hidden gem because the town it resides in is smaller than Hawkins. The twilight embraces the hut that is partially illuminated by a towering neon sign that reads “Val’s Hamburgers.”

Eddie wants you to really enjoy the food, so you share the joint that was stashed in his glove box. Regardless of not being well versed in the variation of marijuana strains, you can tell this stuff is stronger than what he supplies you.

You’re sitting by yourself in the back of his van with the side door pulled open. A buzzing crawls across your skin while your fingers tap out the beat to a song that doesn’t exist. The chirping crickets are providing a soundtrack to your weed-induced contentment. You blink lazily, your focus settling on the darkness outside while waiting for Eddie to arrive with the food. A coolness seeps through your shirt from the metal against your back. The grounding nature of the sensation keeps your lids tethered open.

For no particular reason, there’s a stupid grin painted on your face. You feel amazing right now not being worried about existing in Steve’s orbit. The crisp air fills your lungs with your sluggish inhales and it’s refreshing. With your legs crisscrossed beneath you, your body is free of anxious fidgeting. Aside from the tranquility, you’re borderline starving. Your tummy growls loudly and it makes you laugh.

Eddie returns to the van sooner than you’d expected, though you’re not sure how much time has actually passed. It could’ve been four minutes, it could’ve been ten. You have no clue. You’re so comfortable on the cushy blanket laid out beneath you that the passing of time is a concept that you no longer cognize.

He steps into the van and pulls the door closed. The vehicle bounces from the force of Eddie plopping down into a seated position across from you. Your mouth waters as you eyeball the white paper bag in his grasp. The wetness coating your tongue relieves the THC-induced drought. Eddie straightens his legs out in order to use his thighs as a table.

You’re growing far too impatient to wait any longer. Eddie chuckles when you make grabby hands at the milkshake. As soon as he passes it over, you take the straw between your lips and suck. The sugary liquid pacifies your eagerness and you fixate on the crinkling sound that fills the van as Eddie splays the burger wrapper across his lap.

You watch quizzically as he takes the top bun off. “Are you dissecting your dinner?”

“Mmm, not quite.” He glances up at you, “My dear, I am creating the most delicious cheeseburger in Roane county.”

One of your brows raises skeptically. You continuously sip your milkshake while you observe him Frankensteining his meal. Eddie’s ringed hand plunges into the grease-stained paper bag and pulls out a wad of hot french fries. They’re promptly dropped onto the meat patty. The top bun is returned to its rightful place and given two taps with his fingers for good measure.

You can’t help the smile threatening to form. “C’mon, seriously? That’s-”

“Shush, just try it.” Eddie leans forward and angles his fry-stuffed burger to your lips.

You place your hand on top of Eddie’s to stabilize it while you take a bite. Holy shit. The saltiness paired with the cold lettuce, melted cheese, and greasy beef is positively rocking your world.

Eddie takes a larger bite in the same spot that you did as he watches your expression change. The passing of the muted seconds feels boundless. “Soooo? What’s the verdict?” Although he hasn’t finished chewing, he shoves additional fries into his mouth.

You wipe grease from the corner of your mouth and shrug, “It’s okay.”

A crease forms between Eddie's brows. “Just okay? It’s revolutionary and you know it!” He doesn’t mean to speak so loudly but his high can’t stunt the enthusiasm he has for his ingenious combination.

“Alright, it’s phenomenal. I’ll give you that.” Your head is spinning but the munchies are in full force. Earlier, you told him that you didn’t want a burger. But after trying his, you really want more. Lucky for you, he offers you another bite without you having to ask.

Eddie licks the salty shine from his fingertips and watches you finish up the portion of the fries that he spared. He tells you about a weird dream he had last week and it has you in stitches. The image he’s painted of him being chased by a mob of evil Slinkies is amusing, to say the least. Your high is peaking so you’re convinced that this is the funniest shit you’ve ever heard.

Instead of giving commentary, you let him ramble with his grandiose storytelling. He’s caught up in the details until he begins to miss your voice. Eddie stops himself from moving on to describing another dream he had. “What about you, have any odd ones lately?”

The dream you choose to share isn’t nearly as bizarre, but Eddie is looking at you like you’re the most fascinating person he’s ever met. He listens with intensity and it indicates how much he cares about what you have to say. You’re having trouble recalling the sequence of events, but he’s following along just fine. Eddie downright adores the way your nostrils flare right before you get to the funny part.

He doesn’t know why he never asked you to hang out before, you’re such a dream to him. The desire to explore you from eyelids to ankles is far too substantial to ignore. You’re exactly what he’s always wanted. A little too feisty to function, but all the while you’re incredibly kind when you want to be.

It’s only been two minutes, but it feels like you’ve been talking for an hour. You gradually stop gabbing in an attempt to cool your jets because of how annoying that must have been for him to have to sit through.

Eddie picks up on it in a heartbeat. His smile falls as he witnesses your confidence shrink. “You okay?”

The tingling becomes unbearable so you unfold your legs and straighten them out alongside his. “Yeah, of course.” Steve is the one who does all the talking. He vents about his issues while you listen subserviently. He has never done that for you.

With his gaze angled down to reduce the sensation of a spotlight being cast on you, Eddie twists the skull ring around the base of his finger. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You tilt your head back against the metal wall and look down your nose at him. “Go for it.”

Eddie clears his throat, trying not to fixate on the heat radiating from your legs that are a mere inch from his. “Stop me if I’m overstepping, but uh- what’s got you so down lately?”

You take a second to contemplate lying or spilling your guts about your romance-related dilemma. “You really wanna know?”

“I really do.” Eddie pushes his curls behind his ears to ensure he hears everything you have to say.

With a shallow breath, you bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around your shins to keep them in place. “Boy problems.”

“Oh,” He nods. “What’s this guy’s deal?”

Your look at Eddie because you’re surprised that he wants you to elaborate. His benign expression conveys that it’s okay to talk about it. You lick your lips and avert your gaze before delving into the heartache. “Long story short, I’m fun to fool around with but not enough to be his girlfriend.”

“That’s bullshit.” Eddie is quick to shut down your remark. From your choice of words, he can tell that you need someone to care for you and that you’ve been neglected of being cherished. He desperately wants to prove himself worthy of doing that. “You’re good enough. I mean it.” He nudges your shoe with his sneaker, watching closely as you bring your head up from its bowed angle.

Eddie’s words echo in your head while you bite down on your lip. You’ve never had a guy say that to you. You’re lost in distress and unable to process the compliment. “He sleeps with other people. A handful, actually. And when he chooses me for the night, I guess I feel wanted.”

It’s obvious that you’re being taken advantage of. How could someone think you’re not worth it? You’re worth it and Eddie would risk it all for you. He’s so annoyed that he doesn’t hear the change in his tone. “Why are you letting him treat you like a doormat? You’re smarter than that.”

Your eyes snap to Eddie’s face. What the fuck? The words of shock die in your throat. You open up to him and that’s how he responds? Your tears reflect the glow of the light fixture overhead. You tuck your face behind your knees to conceal the broken expression that reveals how mortified you are.

Eddie’s voice softens in realization, “Shit. Please don’t cry, sweetheart.”

You do your best to keep the tears at bay with every brain cell you have. The last thing you want is to be this vulnerable ever again. You squeeze your eyes closed so tightly that it hurts because you’ll be damned if a single tear is shed.

Eddie reaches over and loosely takes your hand in his, giving you the opportunity to rip your hand away if you wish to. The pad of his thumb strokes over your knuckles.

The soothing sensation causes a cry to spill from your throat but you choke it down and swallow it. You don’t know how to process a guy genuinely caring about you.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean-”

“No,” You lift your head to face him. “You’re right. I brought this on myself. He treats me like that because I let him.”

Your hardened expression makes Eddie anxious but your hand still hasn’t left his. He takes it as a sign that he didn’t totally blow his chances. Eddie scoots closer and wipes the tear on your cheek with a feather-light touch. “It’s not your fault. I’m just a fucking idiot.” When he fiddles with your fingers in his palm, he catches how your shoulders slacken. “I was trying to say that you don’t have to settle for being his toy. You deserve more than he’ll ever be able to give you.”

The pessimist in you wants to argue that you’ll never find anyone better and that you’re being treated for what you’re worth. But it occurs to you that all this time, it’s been Steve’s voice convincing you of that. You’ve been made to feel insignificant to the extent that you believed he was the only guy who could possibly tolerate you.

You can’t help but smile at Eddie’s certainty and he eats it up. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

Eddie doesn’t dare to break eye contact as he bathes in your radiance. “A smile looks good on you.”

Normally you’d hide your face but you don’t. Your stare is locked on his burnt honey irises. It‘s like a warm blanket is being draped over your shoulders.

If Eddie could change the way you see yourself, you’d understand why Steve doesn’t deserve you.

Since that night at Val’s, you’ve built a routine of getting high and doing something spontaneous together. Last weekend Eddie took you to The War Zone. You were hesitant at first but in the end, you had a blast. The far corner of the store was your favorite part. Eddie had never seen someone so excited over tiny jars. You were delighted and he couldn’t bring himself to talk you out of buying them. For ten minutes, you went on about all of the objects you could put in jars that little. He would’ve sat and listened to you list things all day.

You don’t miss Steve anymore. Every time you looked into his eyes you saw that he wasn’t looking into yours with the same passion. You perceived him as this incredible guy who could do it all. But in reality, he offered you so little.

Steve was meant to show you what isn’t right for you. Every time his hands roamed your body, they had no intention of touching your soul. The blissed-out feelings that were once evoked by Steve’s hands are now brought on by the sweet nothings that Eddie whispers.

All this time, there was something better out there for you and you’ve finally found it.

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tags: @protecteddiemunson4vr @nj01 @tlclick73

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