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five-bi-five · 2 years

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a/n: smut is always… interesting for me to write. suggestions are appreciated (my inbox is open!) Enjoy my first attempt in about a decade at smutty fan fic<3

Still Loving You

gif: here

summary: takes place directly after part one; things escalate between you and Eddie with a comfortable quickness.

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader, gn!afab!reader

content warnings: smoking, smut (18+ MINORS DNI) swearing, p in v sex (protected), biting/hickeys, scratching, slight choking, oral (both receiving), pining, slight dirty talk/flirting

word count: 5.2k

disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on any site besides my blog, and inform me if you’ve seen my work elsewhere.

Part II: Relief

Eddie finally finds the strength to stop kissing you only to ask, “you wanna smoke?” while holding your head in both of his hands.

You nod feverishly, hoping the weed will calm your heart that’s currently banging against your rib cage. Because literally, what the fuck just happened?

You watch as he less than gracefully scoots out from under you, quickly crossing his legs, as if hiding the bulge in his pants makes up for the fact that you’d felt it underneath you for a good fifteen minutes. He pads his way to the living room, and you gather your strength to follow. Eddie plops himself down on the couch, his metal box of what he calls “the goods” rattling in his hand.

You like to watch him roll, even though you’re way better at it than he is. You don’t tease him about it this time, though, admiring instead in the blush on his cheeks you had caused.

“Y’know,” Eddie starts, picking a bud apart to place in his grinder, “I can’t say I expected any of this.” He doesn’t meet your eyes, but you take his shy tone as an invitation to explain yourself.

“Me either, obviously.” You really believed you had at least another week before deciding whether to show him your progress. “I’m kinda glad it happened this way, though.” You admit, your eyes counting the threads of the carpet.

“How come?” Eddie dumps the ground flower onto his rolling tray, then moves to peel a piece of rolling paper from the pack.

“Dunno,” you shrug, “it just feels… right this way, I guess. Private.” You blush, hesitant to dive further into detail of the feelings you’ve had for Eddie for the last six or so years.

“I think so too.” He smiles, more to himself, and sprinkles the weed into the paper before sliding his tray to you. “You wanna roll? We both know you’re better at it.”

You both chuckle, and you drag the tray in front of you. He watches you closely, focused like he’s waiting for instructions on how to master the art of a perfect joint.

You can’t help yourself, you start your lecture, “Well, you gotta make sure you tuck it into the paper, like this,” you place your elbows on the coffee table, “then, you roll it like this,” you demonstrate, then position the joint between yours and Eddie’s noses. “Now, lick the paper.” you order, holding the unsealed joint in front of Eddie’s mouth. He doesn’t break eye contact as he licks his lips, then drags his tongue slowly across the paper, tiny crumbs of bud sticking to it as he does.

“Thank you.” You smile, folding the dampened paper over the roll. You pat your pockets, coming up empty. “Do you have a lighter? I must have left mine at home.”

Eddie mirrors your movement, searching his many pockets before exclaiming “Aha!” as he pulls a white lighter from his vest. He flicks it once, twice, three times until the small spark morphs into a flame. You reach your hand out for it, intending to light the joint yourself, but he pulls his arm back instead. “Uh uh, you think I’m letting you jack this from me?” He flicks the lighter on again, waiting for you to put the joint in your mouth.

You oblige, watching as Eddie leans in again, his face a joint’s length away from yours. He lights the end, and you inhale slowly, swimming in the sticky sweetness of the flower smell. Instead of passing the joint to his fingers, you get up, suddenly feeling bold. You approach Eddie, who sits wide legged on the couch, and swing your leg over his body to sit in his lap. “Open.” It comes out as a command, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to part his lips. You hit the joint again, but instead of pulling in, you hold the smoke in your mouth as you bring your lips to his, gently exhaling the smoke into his mouth. You watch as Eddie closes his eyes, inhaling the secondhand smoke with a blissful smile on his face. “I like smoking this way so much better.” He jokes, poking your side with his finger.

You bring the joint directly to his mouth this time. “Now you try.” And he lets you hold it while he inhales, copying you and holding it in his mouth. You watch him through heavy eyelids, taking a moment to admire his pretty face so close to yours. His nostrils flare as he pulls in the smoke, and he squints as it wafts over his eyes.

Eddie cups his hand under your chin and leans into your mouth. You welcome the smoke eagerly as it mixes with Eddie’s hot breath. He’s right, this way is so much better.

When the joint is killed, about an hour later, you’re still in Eddie’s lap, just watching him enjoy his high. He catches you looking, and smothers his mouth with his hand, attempting to hide the grin he can’t wipe off. “Now tell me,” he starts after composing himself, “Where the fuck did I go right enough to end my day like this? First I pass my last class of my THIRD senior year, and then I get my hot teacher to smoke me out? Where am I? Who are you?”

You chuckle at his dramatics. “Technically you’re smoking me out, I just rolled the weed for you.”

“I’m serious! I spent the last six years looking at you in English class, at lunch, selling you weed for way under street price, and you just sit there all pretty and patient, tutoring me, smoking with me, and I can’t help but wonder what did it for you.”

He’s fishing, desperate to know what he’d done to get under your skin. You pretend to think about the question, already having your answer on lock. “Do you remember freshman year?” You inquire.

“Barely.”

“Well, we were in Bio together, you sat at the back of the class and I sat in the front. I think, at that time, you were dating Kelly something… Katie something? I don’t know. Anyway, we were paired up for a dissection, and you did not want to slice the frog open. Until that point, I’d believed you’d be all for it, dissecting animals, looking at their guts and shit. I misjudged you. You felt bad for the frog! You hurt for him!” You can’t help but laugh at the memory, at the feeling in your stomach that day.

“Seriously?” Eddie sits up a little straighter, baffled by your answer. “Of all the Corroded Coffin shows I dragged you to, all the times you were snack captain for Hellfire, you got the hots for me when I squealed like a child?” He feigns offense, like you’ve just told him he smells bad.

“I like a softy!” You whine, backhanding his chest. “I didn’t say that was the only time I felt it!”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

You scoff, shaking your head. He’s still holding you in place on his lap, your faces so close to touching. “You were also just…” you struggle to find the right words. No one has moved you so emotionally before Eddie, you were almost embarrassed. “You were always so kind.” you start, bashful again. “To the freshmen, especially the nerdy ones. You never made fun of other people, even though everyone got off on making fun of you. Nothing ever got to you. You’re… strong. I liked that.” You eagerly search his face for a reaction, and you swear you catch his lip quiver. “I still like that.”

“I can’t believe how well you hid it. Had I known you felt that way, I would have made my move a long time ago.”

You roll your eyes. “Please,” you huff, “You’re just saying that. You’re too embarrassed to admit you never noticed me outside of being your ‘friend from childhood.’” you make finger quotes around the words, quoting Eddie directly when he introduced you to the Hellfire club.

“You really have no idea.” Eddie’s voice deepens, a serious tone indicating you’re about to get lectured. “I was reborn the day we were assigned lab partners. I watched how focused you were that entire semester, how you knew every answer regardless of never raising your hand. You were always scribbling in your notebook, drawings usually having nothing to do with the class. And, you were always patient with my stupid questions.” Eddie laughs to himself, “I ignored my feelings, though. I didn’t see myself being enough for you. You’re so driven, so talented and smart… I didn’t think I was your type.” he spits the word. “I pictured you with someone like Jason Carver, or even someone like Jonathan Byers. Still weird, but a quiet, acceptable weird. I told myself it would never happen with us, regardless of how many ways I pictured us panning out: We’d go for lunch and I’d have to bite my tongue when i wanted to tell you how beautiful you are, how much i’ve always loved you. But then, as if some otherworldly power had gotten hold of my diary, I saw you at The Hideout.” He’s quiet now, and you look up to find him chewing his bottom lip in worry. “I was… very drunk that night, and we hadn’t spoken in weeks, but I scanned our usual crowd of drunks and saw you at the bar. You weren’t looking at me, and I definitely didn’t think you were there for us. I convinced myself you were waiting for a date or something, and a really bad one if they’re taking you to The Hideout. Anyway, I didn’t let myself look at you until the end of the show. I told myself if you were alone by then, I’d talk to you.”

You knew the Friday night he was talking about: the last Corroded Coffin show before— well, before shit hit the fan. You had gone to see him, and only to see him. A dank room full of drunk middle aged men was not your scene, shockingly enough. You and Eddie hadn’t talked for about a month after a huge fight. You had gotten sick of the way Eddie held you, spoke of you to others, talked to you like a lover without ever making a real move. You begged him to stop being so nice to you, and stormed from his trailer leaving him dumbfounded. You had known it was stupid, considering you never let your feelings for him slip, but you’d had enough false hope experience to at least think you knew when you saw it.

“Oh, god. Oh god!” You bring your hand up to slap yourself on the forehead as you realize the ending to the story.

“You were with Steve that night,” Eddie says, dropping his head. He was right, you and Steve were out, enjoying a night free of the children after a very long week of babysitting and chauffeuring them around Hawkins. You remember him teasing you about your choice of venue. “Since when are you into dive bars?” knowing full well why you’d chosen that particular place.

“You didn’t really think Steve and I...” you trail off, wishing you had the ability to go back in time, and shove Steve out the front door before the end of the set.

Eddie shakes his head with vigor. “I honestly didn’t know. He seemed more up your alley, honestly. The Hair! I let myself be stopped by Steve Harrington. I will never live that down.”

“He won’t let me live it down either. He actually complained the whole cab ride home about ‘wasting his time’ by dragging him to a bar to ‘see another guy’ and ‘not even trying to talk to him.’” you mimic Steve’s scolding from memory. He had been joking, but he was absolutely right. You had dragged Steve there so you wouldn’t be alone while fantasizing about your best friend on stage. “But now I can gloat about it next time he brings it up.” You inch closer to him as you say this, your words softening to a whisper. It takes everything inside of you to restrain yourself from kissing him again. You can’t help but wonder why you do, what fear is left tugging your face that half inch away from him.

Whatever it is, Eddie doesn’t have the same restraint. His hands fly to your face, breaking the tension with a heated kiss. His rings are cold against your blushing skin, as you sigh into him, every muscle in your body relaxing, like you’re finally home after a long and stressful work day. “Let’s give you something to really gloat about then, huh?” Eddie speaks against your mouth, running his hands down your back. He settles his arms under your butt, hoisting you onto his waist. He struggles to push you both off of the couch, finally managing to stand with you still in his arms. Before whisking you away, he plants another desperate kiss on your lips, this time prodding his tongue into your waiting mouth.

Eddie carries you into his room, spinning to kick the door closed behind him. Your stomach clenches with nerves, your mind sprinting to every possible scenario. What if the sex sucks? What if I’m not good at it? What if he’s not good at it?!

Eddie gently places you at the end of his bed, standing over you with hunger in his eyes. “You okay?” He tilts his head, searching your expression for a read.

“Yes, yeah, I’m good. Really good. Nervous.” Your answer comes between deep breaths as you self soothe.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this right now. Or ever, even, if you don’t want to. Just say the word and I’ll disappear.”

You crane your neck to look up at him, his soft eyes stuck on yours. You want to, desperately. You’ve wanted to since before that huge fight, and every day after. “I’m afraid I’ll fuck it all up.” You admit, more to yourself than to Eddie. It was reasonable, you thought, to worry about destroying the friendship you had with him. You didn’t want to lose him this way, or at all.

“You couldn’t possibly fuck any of this up. Even if you wanted to stop right here, and pretend none of this ever happened, I would still consider today a huge win.” He smiles down at you, a big, goofy smile you wish you could burn into your memory forever. He is beautiful, and you want to do anything you can to show him you knew it too. “I’ve wanted this for so long, wanted you for so fucking long, I’d be perfectly fine waiting a little longer.”

You can’t say the same. You’ve kept your mouth shut for too long, run away from your feelings for him far too many times to do it again now. “Good thing you won’t have to.” You decide, and pull Eddie on top of you by his shirt.

“Thank god.” He breathes, snaking one hand up your shirt, already damp with sweat from the summer heat and the anticipation of his touch. His rings cool your skin, and he places light kisses from your mouth, to your cheeks, to your jaw, where he nips at the skin, sending a chill through your whole body.

You feel him smile against your skin before he moves down to your neck, biting harder than before, and you start to wonder if you still have concealer you can hide this with. Your breath hitches as Eddie moves his hand from your waist to your shorts, his fingers clumsy as he tries to unbutton them one handed, still sucking on your neck.

“Let me help you with that.” This was no time for being patient. Eddie lets you help him undress you, both of you shoving your shorts far enough down so you can shake them free. It’s then you realize just how hot you are, feeling a familiar wetness between your legs.

As if hes reading your mind, Eddie palms you through the lace of your underwear. You grind against his touch, aching for more of him. “Takeyourpantsoff” your words come slurring out, a desperate half whisper.

Eddie is eager to follow your instructions, fumbling with the handcuffs clasped around his hips. While he slides his pants off, you busy yourself with his throat, placing soft kisses anywhere you can reach.

Eddie moans at your touch, shimmying his pants from his ankles, rushing his hands back to your hips. He connects your lips again, swirling his tongue against yours as he slips a hand between your legs.

You roll your hips into his palm, stifling a groan as his thumb grazes your clit over your panties. “Please,” you breathe, begging him to touch you. You feel his hardness against your hip as he grinds against you, desperate to be closer. In response, you grip your hand over his, pushing it harder against your crotch. “Eddie, you’re gonna ruin my underwear.” You laugh gently, not actually caring what happens to the pretty panties you only bought with the intention of him one day ripping them off of you.

“I’ll buy you a new pair. No promises I won’t do it again though.” He hooks a finger under the fabric separating him from your clit, swiftly snapping the crotch of the underwear as he rips them away from your hips. Quickly, Eddie slides his finger between your folds, and starts slowly rubbing circles on your clit. It’s not long, though, before he stops, shifting his eyes from between your legs to your face. “You’re so wet already. All this for me?” You smile, trying to hide the need you feel for his fingers back on your pussy. Instead, Eddie brings his fingers to your mouth. “Suck for me?”

You let him push two fingers into your mouth, and you don’t break eye contact as you suck them longingly. Eddie looks at you with blown out pupils, an eagerness spread across his face you’ve only read about in your mom’s dirty romance novels.

Eddie drags his fingers from your wet lips slowly, a string of saliva still connecting from them. He’s still looking at you as he resumes between your thighs, circling his fingers at an achingly slow pace. “Can I do more for you? Can I use my mouth?” he’s breathless as he asks, his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers.

“Y- Yes, please.” You stutter, another wave of pleasure crashing through you at the thought. Eddie slides down off the bed, repositioning himself between your legs. You pull your knees up, opening your legs, letting yourself be in full view of him. He smiles as you do so, a glint of eagerness in his eyes.

“You are so fucking pretty.” He whispers, pulling your body closer to his face. He doesn’t let you respond before placing kisses on your stomach, his hand gripping your inner thigh. His lips travel to the soft skin of your mound, before finally licking a small trail up between your folds. You shiver at the touch, can feel your wetness as it’s swirled by Eddie’s tongue.

Eddie goes in again, spreading you open with his fingers. You feel his rings on your skin contrasting with the heat of his tongue, dancing on your clit. You fist one hand into his hair, letting your fingers create knots as he continues eating you out. He hums between your legs, sending a vibration through your whole body, and you clench around the lack inside you. More. You need more.

You prop yourself on your elbows to watch him better, and you can see one of his hands has gone to his crotch, and he’s rubbing himself inside his shorts. “Hey.” your voice cracks, and Eddie meets your gaze without leaving your clit. “Don’t get off yet. I wanna do that.” His mouth still on you, Eddie removes his right hand from himself, holding it up in the air as if to claim innocence. You giggle as he laughs against your skin, sending another ripple of ache through your body.

“You’re just. You’re so fucking hot.” He finally releases you, and you can’t help but whine at the loss of contact. “I can’t help myself.”

“I like hearing you say that.”

“Yeah?” He slides his hand down, pushing one finger inside of you slowly, watching you squirm from between your thighs. “You like when I tell you how sexy you are? You are… so sexy. So fucking hot for me, and you taste-“ he pauses, searching for a word strong enough. “so sweet. Delectable, really.” His finger pushes deeper, and you let your head fall back into the mattress. He takes you in his mouth again, sucking your clit in tandem with the thrusts of his finger. You grind against him, riding his thrusts until you can feel yourself clenching around him.

“Eddie, baby you’re gonna make me come.”

“Go ahead sweetheart, I want you to come on my face.” The statement alone sends you over the edge, and you grind your hips harder on his face. Eddie’s finger curls inside of you, probing your sweet spot as he sucks on your clit. You let your orgasm take hold, and he lets you ride out the high, his eyes stuck on your face. “Good girl. You’re so fucking good for me.” Eddie slides his hand down your legs, and you feel your own wetness leak between your thighs. You’re spent, but still crave his touch on you, inside you. You have no intention of stopping now.

“Thank you, baby.” You breathe between the words, one hand meeting Eddie’s cheek while his other rests on your leg. “You’re… really good at that.”

“I watch a lot of porn.” He shrugs, grinning up at your naked body, and you feel like you must be glowing for him to look at you like that. His eyes are soft, his lips swollen and glistening with your juices. He looks so hot like that, tending to your body with such need, using your leg as a pillow.

“Get up here and kiss me you goof.”

Eddie obliges, and you take the opportunity to remove his shirt and your own. Your lips meet again, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. You take advantage of the position, hooking your legs around his waist to flip you both over, landing you on top of him again. “You must like it up there, huh?” Eddie’s met with your tits at eye level, and he wastes no time, taking one nipple between his teeth while his fingers play with the other. You throw your head back, savoring the sensation, before slowly sliding off of him. You latch your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and yank, freeing his cock from the confines.

“You must like me up there too.” you joke, mesmerized at Eddie fully splayed out for you. You take him in your hand first, kneeling where he had, at the end of his bed. You tighten your grip slightly, and start pumping while you kiss the trail of hair leading from his belly button to his dick. You feel him shutter above you as you place a kiss on the base of his cock, followed by a wet lick up to his tip. His head is shiny with pre cum, and you add to the mess by letting a string of your spit connect with the slit.

“Fuck” Eddie spits, throwing his head back into the mattress. You can’t help but smile, knowing you’re the one causing such a heated distress. You take him in your mouth, slowly at first, swirling your tongue around his tip, then taking him inch by inch into your throat. You watch him writhe with pleasure, one hand fisting into the sheets while the other rests with his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling it hard. You moan around him, showing him you love this, too, and hollow your cheeks to suck him harder. Eddie soon starts moving with you, thrusting his cock further into your throat, groaning as you bob your head up and down.

“Baby, baby stop, I- I can’t hold it for much longer.” His words come out shattered, stressed by the heat you’re causing below him. “Wanna be inside you, want… want us to destroy each other.”

His request sends a fire through you, and you slowly release him from your mouth with a wet pop! Eddie lifts his head to watch you crawl your way back up his body, settling again at the spot between his legs. You let him taste himself as he kisses you, your tongue gliding over his lips, his tongue, as he holds your hips in place tightly. You’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow, and the thought of them being shaped like Eddie’s fingertips excites you further.

“Do you have-“ you start breathlessly, but Eddie is already reaching for his nightstand drawer to grab a single condom. He opens the wrapper with his teeth, and you lift yourself to let him put it on with his free hand.

He takes you by the waist with one hand, the other holding his cock to line up with your hole, still wet from his earlier work. You let yourself moan loudly as he enters you, slowly stretching to his first few inches. “Shit.” you exclaim, sinking yourself further onto his dick. Eddie’s right there with you, looking up at you with his mouth hanging open. You sit there for a second, adjusting to the full feeling of him inside you, before starting to move up and down slowly all while watching his face.

“Yeah… yeah, fuck.” Eddie sputters as you ride him, thrusting up into you at a matching pace. When he bottoms out, fully inside you, he lets out a deep growl as you feel his fingernails dig into your hips. You throw your head back, taking him as deeply as you physically can, your walls clenching around his cock. “God you feel so fucking good,” his voice is grating, straining through his own pleasure. “Kiss me again.” He doesn’t wait for your answer. Eddie clasps a clammy hand on your throat, pulling you to his mouth. He tightens his grip as you kiss him sloppily, letting your tongue roam freely against his. His free hand settles on your thigh, moving as you continue grinding your hips down onto him, moving in circular motions while he continues bucking his hips below you. Eddie’s grip on your throat makes you dizzy, just enough to slow your ride to an achingly slow pace. You don’t want this to be over, not yet.

Eddie notices you slowing down, and breaks the kiss to breathe. You both pant in silence, admiring the expressions of fucked out bliss on each other’s faces. Staying inside you, Eddie rolls you both over, placing you down on the mattress before thrusting fully into you once more, his body flushed against yours. He starts up again, increasing his speed only slightly, lifting one of your legs up over his shoulder. The new angle has refreshed your desire, and you can feel yourself slipping as he slams into you again. “Keep going. Just like that,” you beg him, shoving your arm into the crook of your elbow.

Eddie won’t let you hide though. “If I’m gonna make you scream, I wanna look at you while I do.” He removes your arm from its hold around your face, and you turn your head to look into his eyes. A drop of sweat slides from his damp hairline down his temple, and his pupils are dilated fully, making his brown eyes fully black. He’s always been beautiful to you, but watching him move above you, aiming to fuck you silly, you’ve never seen him look so hot. You relish in it, the fact that you made him look this way, and you wonder how you must look to him: your hair matted together, face shiny with pre cum and your own drool, lips swollen from kissing.

Eddie brings his hand from your throat, sliding slowly down your stomach, fingers tracing on your skin lightly. He finally rests it on your abdomen, where he puts a gentle pressure, and his thumb swipes over your clit. He rubs small circles on the bud, still rhythmically thrusting into you. You whine at the feeling, your pleasure building until you can’t handle it anymore.

You reach for him clumsily, taking his face in your hands to kiss him deeply. The kiss is all tongue and teeth, Eddie biting your bottom lip before sucking on it, causing it to swell. “Please,” you beg for what you feel is the millionth time today. “Please, baby, let me come.”

“Soon, love, almost.” He moves to your throat, leaving what you’re sure are angry hickeys on the skin of your neck. You have no idea how you’ll hide them, and right now you think you might not even bother. It turns you on to think about walking around Hawkins hand in hand with Eddie, showing off your new accessories.

Eddie quickens his pace, his thumb still working diligently on your clit. You tangle one hand in his hair while the other scratches down his back, and you let out a cry of bliss. “Okay, baby, go ahead.” He mumbles against your neck, breathless, and you listen. Your walls clench around him as he keeps bucking his hips, your back arching to take him whole. “Jesus christ you feel so fucking good.” you say through your teeth, your body jolting at the pleasure. He fucks you through your orgasm until your legs are shaking, and you finally feel him twitch inside you.

Eddie comes soon after, a deep growl escaping his chest. “Fuck.” he sighs, spent, then kisses you hard as he slowly pulls out. You shudder as he does, suddenly aware of how sensitive to the touch you’ve become. He sits back on his knees, admiring his handiwork: Your neck and hips are already forming finger and mouth shaped bruises, and your pussy throbs, leaking onto Eddie’s now sweat stained sheets. “You’re perfect.” he sighs, placing his hands gently on your thighs. You watch as he takes you in, and do the same. His Eddie’s hair clings to his face with sweat, his chest heaving with breath as he tries to catch it.

“Turn around for me, baby.” you request, and he does. On his back, added to his scars from the battle with demobats, are lines of angry red fingernail marks slashed across his back. You can’t help but smile at your own creation. “Did I hurt you?”

Eddie whips his head around to face you again as one finger outlines a previous mark of yours. Though he winces at the touch, he promises, “No, no, baby not at all. Not in any way I couldn’t handle.” His smile is soft, and you lean your head on his shoulder. He kisses your forehead, and mumbles something into your hair.

“What?” you bring your eyes to his face, and you can see his eyes have welled up with tears. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong. These are happy tears, I promise.” He rotates the rest of his body to face you. Both of you sit there, still naked and sweating, and Eddie finally breaks the silence. “I’m just coming to terms with all of this. What this means for us.”

You look at him quizzically. “What does it mean for us?”

“Well,” he flops back down on the mattress, pulling you with him. “I hope,” he starts, his hand stroking your cheek while you’re rests on his waist. “it means a lot more of this.” he kisses you, as if to give an example. “and this,” he moves to your neck, “and this,” he moves again to your collar bone, and you giggle as you feel the craving in your stomach again.

“I think I can live with that,” you say finally, and he’s back to kissing your mouth, this time gently, slowly, and full of what you can only describe as love.

—

THE END LOL<3

#Tayl you’re not allowed to read this one #k thanks <3

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five-bi-five · 2 years

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a/n: this is my first time posting a fic please be kind! and please please please let me know ur thoughts! also apologies for any formatting issues i am posting from my phone. 🦇🎸

Still Loving You

gif: here

summary: You’ve been teaching yourself a new song on guitar to show Eddie once he graduates. You usually tutor him after Hellfire Club, but today Eddie’s back early, catching you with his guitar, and thereby soiling your plans for dramatic confession.

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader, friends to lovers, gn!reader

warnings/tags: there will be smut in part ii, but this one is rated pg13! lots of cute fluff here<3 mutual pining. no spoilers just normal human stuff. reader has graduated Hawkins in 84, making them over 18

word count: 4.12k

Part I: Caught In The Act

The sticky heat of Hawkins clings tightly onto you as you pedal your way to Eddie’s, just like you’d done every Thursday, since the beginning of the year. Eddie had informally hired you as his personal tutor, finally getting sick of repeating senior year. He made promises of free joints and rides around town for the rest of your lives, and made a big dramatic show of getting on his knees to beg you to help him. Anything to convince you to take him on as your student.

Of course you agreed, but you didn’t tell him you would have done it for a can of soda and a singular movie night, maybe even less. Though you and Eddie have been friends since middle school, you still haven’t gotten around to telling him the whole truth: that you had fully fallen in love with him.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, you’d started crushing on him in freshman year, just like every kid falls in love with their best friend the second they both hit puberty. You had never gained your footing, though, fearing his rejection any time you pondered maybe flirting with him. Instead, you remained the best of friends, and you believed that was enough for you.

Throughout high school you both dated other people, and by the time you graduated in ‘84, you had convinced yourself the schoolhouse crush had passed. So, of course, you’d said, you’ll tutor him.

However, spending all this time with Eddie, both tutoring him and just existing near him, you realize you can’t keep this shit under wraps for much longer.

Eddie always left the door unlocked for you on Thursdays, knowing you’d be out of work before Hellfire ended, and probably wouldn’t feel like biking home just to bike another 20 minutes back to his place. You preferred studying at Eddie’s to your own house, a quiet refuge contrasting your own noisy, tense household. You also secretly loved that his room always smelled like weed, mixed with whatever cheap cologne he was using.

You let yourself in, and help yourself to a Red Stripe in the fridge. You can’t help but wonder how many others have done this before you, and how many of them intended on becoming more than study partners with Eddie. You let yourself feel jealous for a second, before remembering that, whatever he was doing before, and whoever he’d done it with, it had absolutely nothing to do with you. You were the one waiting for him now, and you let yourself find comfort in that.

You walk to his room and kick your shoes off, desperately needing to let your socked feet breathe. The air is still stiflingly hot, so you remove your t-shirt, leaving on a black tank top to stick to your sweaty skin. You figure you have a good hour or two of practice time before Eddie’s home from Hellfire, so you begin your slow approach to the far wall, where his instrument rests in front of Eddie’s only mirror.

“Hey, pretty,” you greet the guitar, admiring her gently with your fingertips. Eddie doesn’t let anyone touch his guitar, let alone play it, let alone an amateur like you: someone only really able to play acoustic songs for your family on camping trips. You know you’re going against every instinct in your body telling you it’s a horrible idea. You make a whispered promise to her, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You only plan to play it once, get as much practice in as you can, then put it exactly where it was, and he would never know! Or, he would definitely know, but he wouldn’t have any proof, and would be completely unable to pin the blame on you.

You are as careful with the instrument as you would be with a newborn baby, one hand gripped tightly enough around the neck while the other caresses the body, you walk slowly so as not to bump her into any surrounding knick knacks. You take your place at the foot of Eddie’s bed, your back facing the bedroom door. The amp buzzes as you plug the guitar in, and you reach for your walkman to analyze the song you’ve been practicing.

——————

Eddie is sprinting to his van, in a blind fury to get back home as soon as the bell rings. He’s just been given his grade back for the English final, and he’s finally passed, and with an impressive C-! He could only think about getting back to his house, coming home to you waiting for him on the couch, and shoving the graded paper at you with a feral excitement. He wanted so badly to thank you, for saving his stupid ass from another year of Hawkins Hell.

“MUNSON!” Dustin Henderson is running toward Eddie’s car, a dumbfounded look on his face that says, “Where the fuck do your think you’re going?”

“I passed! Henderson, I PASSED! I have to postpone, I have places to be, and a beautiful knight to thank for rescuing me!” He’s talking with his arms, flailing his crown jewel of a grade in his hand.

“Can’t you thank them after we kick your sorry ass?” Dustin was a dedicated member of Hellfire, seeing each meeting as a chance to humble his newest best friend.

“Sorry, dude, this isn’t something I can just wait to do.” What Eddie wasn’t telling Dustin, was that he finally planned to tell you how he felt. He didn’t want to risk losing his tutor to an awkward rejection, so to save both of you the trouble he’d decided to wait until he was positive he’d never have to be tutored again.

Dustin, despite his annoyance, gives Eddie a knowing smile. He’d seen the way Eddie acted around you, on the rare occasion you’d come to ride home with them.

“Right. Well, tell your pretty knight I’m pissed.” Dustin snaps, turning on his heel to stomp off to inform the party their Dungeon Master was too love drunk to play tonight.

Eddie jokingly salutes to Dustin’s turned back, and eagerly climbs into his driver’s seat, barely pausing to turn the radio on before peeling out of the school parking lot.

—-

You’re making decent progress, finally figuring out how to sing while playing, without pausing between chords. It’s not perfect, but it’s better, and you’ve gotten yourself in the zone. You look at the clock, which reads 3. Hellfire isn’t out until 5 tonight. You can afford a little more time, you tell yourself.

As you play through the chorus again, you drown out the background noise of Forest Hills. What you can’t hear over the noises of your clumsy strumming, is the gravel under Eddie’s van as he pulls up to his home a mere thirty minutes later. He whips himself out of the car, getting his foot caught on the pedals on his way out. After almost eating shit, his good mood still can’t be ruined. That is, until he reaches the top step of his trailer and pauses.

Leaning his ear to the screen door, he makes out the hum of his amp. His amp, plugged into his guitar.

“No fucking way.” He whispers, letting himself into the front room as quietly as he can manage. All his previous chaos has left his body, as he tiptoes his way toward the sound of what he can tell is barely acceptable guitar playing.

He reaches his room, stopping abruptly to take in the view in front of him: Your back turned to him, hunched over his most prized possession. He sees the headphones resting on your ears, your neck tilted in concentration trying to figure out the next set of chords, sweat dripping down the side of your face, slowly melting from the early June heat.

Eddie leans himself on the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest, just to take you in. By now, he usually would have sent the culprit flying through the window, exilling them for all eternity. But he couldn’t bring himself to do that to you, he had no desire to distract from your concentration.

You stop once you finish the song, and immediately freeze. The air in Eddie’s room has shifted. No, you think, there is no way he’s already home.

You look at the clock next to Eddie’s bed that now reads 3:45.

You slowly rotate your body towards the bedroom door, catching the figure there in the corner of your eye before the pieces click into place.

Finally, you bring your eyes up to meet his, and the motherfucker is smirking at you.

“I-“

He cuts you off with a dramatic wave of his arm, exclaiming, “You come into my home, you sit on my throne, you play my instrument, and you don’t even try to hide it? You know, honey, that usually calls for banishment.” He’s approaching you now, slowly planting one foot in front of the other, as if to build suspense.

“Sh sh sh,” He kneels on the floor next to your spot on the bed. “Instead, I will make you earn your honor back. You must play his instrument for the master himself.” His smirk shifts into a toothy grin, knowing how shy you get in the face of performing, speaking, or really doing anything in front of other people. He has no idea that fear only applies to him.

Your eyes widen with fear, “It isn’t ready, that's not fair!” you falter, suddenly unsure if you were ever really going to play the song for him. Who were you kidding anyway, someone that didn’t even own their own guitar trying to play for Eddie, of all people.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, his eyes not leaving yours. “All fairness went out the window when you played with my baby before asking, sweetheart.” He grips your thigh tightly, his intention clear: You’re not going anywhere until you play for him.

You take the deepest breath you’ve ever taken, and it does nothing to calm your nerves. This isn’t how you wanted to play this song for him. Your plan was to play it after he graduated, when he finally threw his cap to the sky and said good riddance to the worst six years of his life. Selfishly, you wanted to wait for him to graduate just in case he felt the same way you did. You didn’t want to cause him distraction from his work, just in case you might prove yourself to be one. Maybe it was slightly delusional, but you liked to daydream.

The other reason for waiting was in case he denied you. You didn’t want to think about it, but you always knew there’d be a chance of rejection, something you weren’t sure you could handle. He didn’t exactly go for people like you, people with their noses in big books, or scribbling in a journal during lunch, their headphones blocking everyone and everything else out. You keep to yourself, and Eddie is known as the life of every nerd friendly party, every lunchtime discussion, and every drive in his van. It’s the strongest reason you’d found yourself infatuated: his ability to exist purely as himself.

Your fingers move towards the first chord of the song, and you close your eyes as if to trick yourself into thinking none of this is happening. You’re not really about to make the biggest fool of yourself in front of the one person whose opinions matter most to you. As long as you don’t look at him, none of this is real.

You make it through the intro with little error, and your breath catches in your throat as you start to sing:

Time

It needs time

To win back your love again

I will be there

You don’t dare to open your eyes, but you feel Eddie’s big, brown ones boring into your face and soul as you play.

Love

Only love

Can bring back your love someday.

I will be there,

I will be there.

You pause, as if to silently beg to stop. Eddie only squeezes your leg again, a nudge to keep going. You still can’t look at him.

I’ll fight, babe, I’ll fight

To win back your love again

I will be there, I will be there.

Love, only love

Can break down the wall someday

I will be there, I will be there.

You pause again, opening your eyes to reposition your fingers for the chorus. Eddie doesn’t interrupt as you do, but you can feel his eyes on your hand.

As you sing the chorus, still far too quietly to be any good, he starts to hum along, his voice a whisper above your own.

If we’d go again

All the way from the start

I would try to change

The things that killed our love

Your pride has built a wall, so strong

That I can’t get through

Is there really no chance

To start once again

I’m still loving you…

You both continue like that, you not looking at him while his eyes are trained on you. By the end of the song, your throat aches and your fingers are cramped. You brace for the impact of Eddie’s teasing, or worse, his anger and immediate removal of you from his life.

Neither comes. You dare to open one eye, trying to gauge his reaction by the bewildered look on his face. A third, unexpected reaction: a gaping look at you, only broken by a couple bats of his eyelids.

“I… did not see that coming.”

“I did tell you it wasn’t ready,” You try to change the subject, terrified of the way you strangle back a sob. This is not the way you planned to be rejected. You weren’t mentally ready for that destruction yet.

“No, that’s not-“ He falters, visibly searching for the right thing to say. He pushes himself to his feet, pacing in front of you, still sitting cross legged on his bed.

“Why that one?” He asks, innocently.

You search for your words on the floor, Because I fell madly in love with you. Because I wanted to impress you. Because I couldn’t think of a better way to tell you this with my own words. Because ever since freshman year I would fantasize about pulling you into the teacher’s lounge.

“Well,” you start finally, talking to the chipped polish of your nails, “I found the tape in your van, and the case looked really, um, well used, I guess. So I wanted to see what made you like it so much. This song reminded me of… well you. Us… whatever.” You try to brush it off, but the truth is you’d been planning this gift for him since you started tutoring him. Usually, you’d use your roommate’s guitar to practice, but she’d gone home for the summer, and you couldn’t afford your own instrument.

“I never wanted you to find out this way,” your words were rushing out now, desperate to bandage the trust you were sure you’d broken, “But I can’t stop fucking thinking about you. I think about you all the fucking time. Why do you think I said yes to helping you? WhyI’m always here, regardless of whether we end up studying? It’s all been for you, Eddie.” You finally blurt. It hangs in the air, like an unwelcome ghost. “I will accept my banishment with grace and honor.” you proclaim, defeated, still refusing to look at him.

Eddie waits a beat, digesting your response before saying, “Why would I banish you?” he sounds wounded, taking offense that you’d dare speak such a thing.

Your head snaps up then, searching for a give away that he’s being sarcastic. Because of course you would, you think, because you don’t feel the same way.

“You’ve done worse. I saw the way you iced Dustin for a week because he stole your Dungeon Master’s journal.”

“That was under different circumstances.” Eddie returns matter-of-factly, like it’s the most logical argument in the world. “Why would you put all this time into learning a song before you could even know if I’d graduate?” He’s challenging you now, trying to get you to admit something. And you’re so close to admitting something.

You puff your cheeks full of air before letting go a heavy sigh. “I believed in you. And maybe, selfishly, I believed you’d want me, too.” You shrug, then retort, “Well, what makes me different from Dustin? We both touched things we knew we weren’t allowed to touch, things that belong to you.” You wonder if your feelings should be hurt. Maybe he doesn’t value you enough to hold you to the same rules as his closest friends.

“You make you different, silly. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” He waves his hand dismissively, as if your hands on his guitar were just a normal, every day occurrence. “And it’s more fun to freak you out.” He pivots toward you, pointing to the instrument. “Can I help you?” He asks, suddenly enthusiastic.

“What?” Not only is he not pissed, or even indifferent, but he's offering to help you? To teach you the very thing that attracted you to him in the first place?

You weigh your options: One, you say no, and hurt Eddie’s feelings enough to actually “banish” you, whatever that may mean to him; or two, you agree and he tries to help you, only to grow impatient with your struggling and give up. You don’t like either choice, so you stall.

“Why are you home so early?” You dodge. In all your embarrassment, you’d forgotten to ask what was so important for him to call Hellfire off for the night. Anyone that knew Eddie knew almost nothing came between him and his DnD campaigns.

“If I tell you, would you please let me help you with this?” He circles his hand around your being as you sit awkwardly, his guitar still in your grasp. “Your fingering could use some work. I happen to be an expert, I could give you a few tips.” He wiggles the fingers of his left hand, his rings glittering when they hit the light. The thought of his hands has kept you up before, but there was something way too real about them now.

“Fine.” You huff, ignoring the double entendre, and therefore the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Great!” Eddie claps his hands together, and bends to pick up his graded assignment he’d let fall to the ground only minutes earlier. He pinches the paper between his thumb and pointer, flicking the back of the page as he does so. “C-, baby!” he beams, shoving the paper closer to your face. “I couldn’t wait to tell you, so I told the kids to kick rocks today. Henderson’s not letting me hear the end of it anytime soon.” He shakes his head jokingly, like a shamed puppy caught ripping the good pillows apart.

“You canceled Hellfire, the one thing I have ever seen you care about, to come tell your tutor that you passed?” You’re dumbfounded.

Eddie only shrugs, “Yeah, obviously, I wanted to make my teach proud. Now let me help you with this mess.” He doesn’t mean any harm by his comment, only that he wants to help you learn. You go to scoot over, making room for Eddie to sit next to you on the mattress.

Eddie, however, completely ignores this gesture, leaving you with the guitar in your lap. Instead, he kicks a leg behind you, leaving the other resting against yours. You are now sitting between his legs, and he places his chin to rest on your shoulder.

You forget to breathe. You and Eddie, though close friends since middle school, have never been so physical before. Sure, you’d held hands, skipping to classes together as the Hawkins Nuisances, and you had played enough footsie in math class to pass the time. But you’d never sat like this, so close to feel his heart beating on your back.

Ignoring your obviously tense body language, Eddie places his hand over yours, gently moving it to the first position of the song. “Press this string down a little harder.” He mumbles into your neck, sending a chill down your spine as he demonstrates, pressing his middle finger into the fret. You move your own hand to where his sits, and repeat his movements. You feel him smile into the dip of your shoulder, proud of your tiny improvement.

You work through the first verse this way, with Eddie only speaking to give you instructions on positioning your fingers, or which strings to strum. You wouldn’t mind if you spent the rest of your night like this, in a comfortable silence only broken by the clumsy melody of a Scorpions ballad.

Eddie pauses, though, just as you’ve finished the first chorus. In one swift motion, he drags the guitar off of you, placing it beside him at the end of the bed. The loss of contact saddens you, as you realize this may be the last time Eddie ever lets you touch the guitar. To stifle your sadness, you go to get yourself off of him, trying to hide how much you don’t want to move. You’re caught off guard, though, when Eddie shoves his arms out and grabs you by the waist, pulling you back into his lap and lacing his fingers across your middle, keeping you there.

He cups his hand under your chin, forcing you to twist to face him, and you can barely look at him. You think you catch his eyes dart to your lips, but you can’t be sure. Your brain is too fuzzy, being so close to Eddie’s face, feeling his breath on yours to think clearly. You never thought you’d get even this far with him.

Before you gather enough courage to speak, Eddie’s asking, “You mean all that?”

You raise your eyebrow at him, because how dare he question your sincerity. “Of course I mean it. Eddie, I know you have a little trouble with critical thinking, but did you really have absolutely no clue?” You’re laughing now, dumbfounded at your best friend’s ignorance. “I thought I was rather readable.”

“To be fair, it’s not like you knew either.” Eddie isn’t laughing, not a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “You’d think an English tutor would be able to see the evidence laid out in front of them.”

You play stupid, refusing to believe any of what he’s claiming. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he glances down at your mouth again, and this time you’re sure of it. You have no time to react before he’s pulling your face in, his hand still holding your chin. His lips meet yours, tenderly at first, and your face catches fire as you kiss him back. The kiss ends as suddenly as it started, and Eddie pulls his face back to look at you again.

“That’s what I mean.” and he’s kissing you again. you don’t let yourself hold back this time. You break the kiss briefly, only to turn your body around to face him, now straddling his lap. You hold his face in your hands to kiss him again, coaxing his mouth open with your tongue. He pushes back eagerly, his hands gripping tightly onto your waist to hold you in place. Your head starts swimming, unable to fully grasp what you've gotten yourself into. He tastes like cigarettes and mint, and you never want to forget the way his tongue feels against your own.

One of Eddie’s hands moves from your waist, up your back, and cups your neck, as if he’s trying to pull you even closer. Your fingers lace through his hair easily, your nights spent dreaming about it having finally paid off. You feel Eddie smile into your kiss, his arms now wrapped around you tightly. You can’t help but smile too, trying to show him exactly how you’d been feeling this last seemingly endless year.

“Was it worth postponing?” you ask, breaking the kiss for air.

“I would rather never return to Hellfire again if it meant I could spend all of my time doing this instead.” he looks at you longingly, and you truly believe him. “No one’s ever done that for me before.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes before connecting your lips to his for a third time.

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