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writinginthetwilight · 2 days

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Knock, knock.

Neighbour!Eddie x Neighbour! Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone.

AFAB reader. Stress. Strong language. Loneliness. Anxiety. Dubious Dnd lore. Horror-esk/creepy vibes. See Masterlist for full list of warnings.

Authors note: Thank you for all the love on the last part of this fic you're a lovely bunch. This all Eddie's POV, slowing down to show a little glimpse of life on the other side of the wall and in his noggin. As always, all my love to @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing for writing the original prompt that birthed this weird little world and being so supportive.

Special thanks to Somna for beta reading this chapter and soothing the brain goblins 💙

Wc: 4.4k

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. I hope you're all being kind to yourselves. Bye.

Part 6 - Rapid eye movement.

Starbursts roll over his vision, the edges are fading into burning static, there's a darkness rapidly approaching. He's falling.

Then he's awake.

Sitting bolt upright, his fingers catch the knots in his curls as he runs his hands over his head, panting breaths leaving him in time with the way his eyes dart around the room.

The world's a gentle sombre blue, shadows still overbearing as the sun starts its crawl out from beyond the horizon.

The knock that comes from behind him forces out the last of the breath he's been holding, reality slowly sinking in as he falls backwards.

He knocks back on the wall behind his head.

A returned acknowledgement of the shared time, somewhere.

The walls are too thick to pick up any small movements, but he waits and listens anyway.

He hopes you get back to sleep.

Dashed red numbers are a blur from his nightstand, too bright for tired eyes, they edge into focus slowly as he blinks away the sleep, he wishes he hadn't.

He needs to get up soon.

His first appointment’s in a couple of hours, a new one on the outskirts of the city and he needs to stop by the store first, see if he's picked up anymore for the week ahead.

A car revs its engine outside, his heart stutters, eyes clench closed.

It was just a dream.

Kind of.

Whatever it was, he's back now.

You're back now.

He scrubs at his face, pulling off his sweat stricken shirt, material damp against his skin and rapidly turning cold, before reaching out blindly for his cigarettes and balancing his ashtray precariously on his stomach.

Smoke curls up as he lets out his first exhale and he tries to calm his racing mind as he watches the shapes they coil into, serpents consuming themselves, tendrils that dissipate into nothing.

It had been what felt like a lifetime that you'd both nervously waited to wake, for something to appear from the darkness, but nothing came.

You were stuck, stock still as he'd tried to get you through the light, everything in his body telling him to go.

Your lack of self preservation would be impressive, if it didn't make him feel like such a fucking coward.

He can still see your face, eyes trained on the wall, mouth working like you were trying to get words out as you finally moved with him away.

The relief on your face as the rushing in your ears began.

The small wave you'd given him before being ripped away.

Fuck.

His letter from you sits on his nightstand amongst the clutter he needs to clear. He reaches over, turning on the small lamp which does very little, barely illuminates the area around him in muted peach hues.

It's enough.

I'm going to plan an exorcism, so if you could let me know which weekday evening would be good for you, that would be great.

In the meantime if you could find some sort of bell to wear so I don't almost die of a heart attack each time I come home that would be great.

His cigarette smoulders at the edge of the page smoke drifting over the words like fog.

He scratches at the stubble that's starting to come through on his jaw, trying to hide the smile that comes to his face at your words.

He's not sure who from.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, letter still in hand he pads his way through to the kitchen.

Bare feet hit the smooth cold tile, stray crumbs sticking to the bottom of them that he wipes off absentmindedly against his leg as he leans against the counter.

The coffee machine clicks and gurgles as he looks up from your words to stare out over the street, golden light now edging in making the opposing windows reflect back like a hall of mirrors, light dancing over his hands in waves.

He frowns, moving before the idea can fade with distractions, into the living room.

Peanuts and popcorn lie strewn over the floor as he rounds the corner and he curses lightly under his breath.

He'll deal with it later.

He pulls a stack of books off the bookshelf rifling through until he finds it.

‘Manual of the Planes’.

He discards the rest, sitting down criss-cross, stray kernels sticking into his calves where his sweatpants have rolled up.

He shifts them away and glances up to the space in front of him, the memory of you laughing fleeting through his mind.

The coffee pot fills and clicks off in the kitchen, light reflecting off the glass that shrouds the dark liquid.

It goes lukewarm, forgotten.

It's odd that the intentional quiet of his mornings seems to make the apartment less empty.

He'd stopped turning on the TV or playing music in the mornings a few weeks ago, afraid he might wake you.

The fact that there's someone there to hear him seems to make the silence less overwhelming.

He has to pull himself away from the book, pushing it into his bag to resume later, the responsibility of the day taking priority if he wants to make rent this month.

He's crouched at the foot of your doorway down the hall slipping a note under when he hears footsteps.

There's a woman coming down the stairs that curls off at the end of the hall heading towards him with a wary look.

He tries to look as casual as he can.

“Morning.”

He flashes her a grin still down on one knee and she quickly rushes past without a response.

Shit.

He hangs his head, standing slowly as his knees crack and back protests.

Mumbling, he curses tense muscles and aching bones as he slings his backpack over his shoulder, pulling up his soft black hood he adjusts the hair out of his eyes before long limbs carry him down and out onto the street below.

Dewy spring air still holds its chill, the sun still low in the sky and his breath mists in the air around him. He pulls up the collar on his leather jacket, shoulders hunching up around his ears.

The morning rush hasn't started, but there's still bodies on the street, heads down, paper coffee cups steaming in the air.

The constant low murmur of cars and people's existence buzzes around him, and accompanies him all the way until he finally boards his first bus, steel doors closing and muting the world.

The record shop isn't too far, a twenty minute walk at best, but if he's going to make it out to his first lesson he's not got the time to spare.

Early morning sun warms the side of his face as he pulls out the extra book in his rucksack, eyes resuming where they left off, as the bus takes off.

Transitive planes, demi planes, gods, demons and elemental struggles.

It's lighting up his brain.

The places which sit dormant, unentertained in the daily grind to exist, he greedily takes it in, lets it wash over his mind.

His notebook balances awkwardly on his thigh while he takes notes of anything that fits.

Lights, sleep, entry ways, reflections.

Voids and disembodied voices that will suck out his soul.

Shadows crawl over the pages as strangled light gasps between buildings and as the towering skyline clears daylight catches the white of the pages, making his intense gaze falter and look away.

Just in time to see the record store pass.

Shit

He rams everything into his bag, book pages crease and his guitar case rings out muffled pained notes as he clumsily stands and rushes to pull the cord.

The visit’s short and sweet, the owner Buck doesn't bat an eye as Eddie shouts out a slightly breathless hello as he barges past the closed sign.

Raising a hand in response, his gaze still stays firmly set on his newspaper even as Eddie reaches blindly behind the desk and pulls out a green book.

There's no new students.

But there are a couple of kids he hasn't seen in a while, names penned in next to their parents phone numbers.

A little tension leaves him at the sight, lessons are an extra expense, easily cut around the holidays and as spring crawled in, he was sure he wouldn't see them again.

His flyer in the window needs replacing, the words starting to fade from sun exposure. He should probably check the others around the city too.

He'll do it tomorrow.

He daren't risk too much distraction as the next bus carries him out of the city, as the streets outside turn suburban and unfamiliar he needs to count the stops.

Day dreaming’s an expense he can't afford if he doesn't want to be late. First lessons are hard enough without having to explain why he's not on time.

Languished footsteps fall onto pristine sidewalk as the bus hisses and takes off behind him, leaving him to unknown cookie cutter streets.

A knot in his shoulder makes him huff and wince backpack sitting uncomfortably over the muscles there.

He misses the van.

The thought isn't new but lingers a little longer on mornings like this, as his feet hit the ground every step’s a reminder of how much easier it would be.

How much safer he'd feel.

He pushes the thought down, reasoning he wouldn't be able to afford the gas anyways.

Ignores the fact that one appointment wouldn't take almost two hours out of his morning.

A low whistle leaves him as he finds the street, a cul de sac of matching white houses with cloned cherry wood trees to the left of their driveways.

The air smells like breakfast and there's distant chatter of kids in the tall fenced off gardens.

Number 12.

The driveway alone rivals the size of, your his apartment.

He checks his hair in the car window, pulling it back with the satin purple scrunchy on his wrist, biting into his cheek as he wraps it round his hair.

Just another piece of her which remains, stuck into his life like splinters that he keeps fucking finding, just beneath the skin.

He takes a breath, shaking out his arms as he pushes the doorbell, a muffled sing-song tune alerts the house to his arrival.

He shifts nervously, an outline through the frosted glass approaching.

It wouldn't be the first time someone had closed the door in his face. Not even giving him the chance to explain who he was, why he was there bringing down the house prices.

The lock clicks.

“Hi.”

“Can I help you?”

“I'm Eddie, we spoke on the phone. I'm here for guitar lessons with Sam.”

An hours worth of Munson charm and some badly done scales later, he leaves with an envelope full of cash and homemade brownies snug in his backpack.

Six more lessons booked for the same time each week, discussed while Mrs Graham waved him away and flushed pink at his talk of her not looking old enough to have a 10 year old.

As the buildings get taller again, the bus back starts filling out and his mind strays as he tries to avoid eye contact.

You said you worked around here.

He doesn't need to be at the school for another couple of hours and he lets his feet carry him off a few stops early. Through seas of trench coats and shoulder pads he meanders, a streak of black slipping between white pressed shirts.

Shined shoes file into buildings through glass doors and he wonders, if in another time you're hurrying in with them.

All the buildings look the same here, concrete mountains, unfriendly and overbearing.

He hopes you don't work in one of these.

He sits himself on the back of a bench when the streets turn more pedestrian, bakeries, cafes and mini marts lining the sidewalk.

The cool metal of the bench bleeds past dark denim and into the skin on the back of his thighs as he digs into the bag of brownies, squinting into the late morning sun he pulls his hair free shaking it out.

The woman on the opposing bench watches him and he gives her a tight smile, she looks away.

The next bus is late.

Of course it is.

The walk into school feels surreal enough without him rushing in late for classes.

It's some kind of ironic fuck you from the universe that the best steady source of income he's got means he’s back in the hallways of a high school 3 days a week.

He pulls at the creases in his shirt, formed in his bag over the course of the morning, swapped out for his hoodie on the bus ride over.

The tie around his neck makes him feel like he's choking.

The kids aren't bad, just, not as enthusiastic or interested as the home school kids, he can't blame them.

Pale walls and bright lights seem to suck out your soul while simultaneously spotlighting all your imperfections.

He hadn't wanted to be there at 16 either, still didn't a decade later.

They keep fucking about. Not listening and he doesn't mean to snap, but the fluorescent lights and noise are grinding on him quicker than he should let it.

He spends the time between lunch and after school classes pouring over the book in the teachers lounge while it's empty, drags his way through after school lessons then makes his way back to the city.

One more.

A standing appointment.

Within the city only a short walk from the bus station.

There's no Munson charm here.

He won't leave with brownies.

It's the most comfortable he's felt all day.

A shared acknowledgement of a long day is made over tired eyes as Ruth answers the door to the 5th floor apartment.

“Eddie's here.”

Lizzy, 13, spunky, and really fucking good.

She likes old school Maiden and is in love with Joan Jett.

She reminds him he's old every chance she gets.

Her mom can't really afford him and pays by the week, no block payments but she's never missed a lesson.

Change and creased notes scavenged and saved, are always waiting for him on the small kitchen counter when he leaves.

He picks up snacks on the way there, store brand candy bars and chips that he always forgets when he leaves.

It's a routine he savours.

A place he feels welcome with no pretence of being the help. An hour of playful jabs, jamming and laughter that drowns out the low hum of the radio.

Everything's dropped as soon as he passes the threshold of the door, his shoulders sagging as he walks heavily into the living room.

Late afternoon sun casts the far side of the room in shadows.

Popcorn and peanuts lay all over the floor.

His hands find his face and he lets out a frustrated moan into his palms as he turns and grabs the broom.

It's the bare minimum swept back into the bowl, gritty flakes and salt still peppering the green carpet

He can vacuum tomorrow.

The full coffee pot sits idle on the counter as he walks into the kitchen and his foot catches a crumb pile he made while he swept this morning

It didn't quite manage its way to the garbage.

It's overwhelming in the least intrusive way and he can't stand it.

He's done and the rattling quiet is making his thoughts tumble and run into each other.

Chores and bills and otherworldly bullshit.

It can all wait.

He collapses onto the couch, hair splayed out as he groans face down into the upholstery, legs stuck out at angles which will ache soon if he doesn't move.

The music’s turned up, drowning out the silence of his surroundings and the noise inside his head.

He should read, make more notes, clean, put away the cash sitting in his bag but instead he lets the music become a theme tune to his overactive imagination.

The sound of the door slamming into the wall announces your arrival home, reverberating around him and causing a grin to spread across his face from where his head hangs upside down off the couch.

The tape’s long finished and the energy to get up and flip it crawled out into the couch cushions a good half hour ago.

“Hello” your voice calls out and he purses his lips as it echoes out into the empty space.

“Eddie?”

That's louder, there's a distant sound of something being dropped to the ground with a dull thud, then your movements become clear.

He manovers himself silently upright.

You're mumbling to yourself, some kind of list and he can imagine you infront of him at your kitchen counter.

With a stretch of his arms he cups his hands around his mouth.

“Warning! Warning! ”

The choked scream you let out is followed by the clatter of cans and his responding cackle has him falling back against the couch, soft pillows catching tired muscles as he grins.

“You fucking son of a bitch. Why?”

Your voice is breathy and he shrugs to himself.

“Couldn't find a bell. So next best thing.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don't.”

There's a pause and something stutters through him as he wonders if the impulse to fuck around with you was too much.

He's too much.

“How was work?”

It comes out quick, a little cracked and he winces as his words press into the empty air.

It reminds him of the first few days, when he thought that the loneliness was finally starting to mess with him.

“Fine.” You say finally, a small laugh in your voice that comes out in a huff, echoing and floating around him. “You?”

“Uh yeah, yeah good, got a new kid on the roster, got lunch out of it.”

“Lunch, how ingenuitive of you. How'd you manage that?” The yawn you let out disguises the last syllables of the words and it catches the muscles in his jaw.

“My unyielding charm” he says with his own, eyes falling closed.

He hears you snort.

“Just ‘cause I haven't turned it on with you.”

“Hmmm.”

He smiles and imagines you rolling your eyes.

Imagines that you're walking around the room.

“So scaring me half to death whenever I walk in isn't part of your unyielding charm. ”

The last few words are muffled by another yawn and his eyes open, staring at the ceiling with a small frown.

“You get back to sleep?”

There's a pause in your footsteps.

The obvious unconscious elephant in the room rousing.

“For a bit."

He nods his head chewing the inside of his cheek as he hears you resume doing whatever it is you're doing in the kitchen.

“I think I know why we end up there.”

He turns his head towards your voice, warped and disembodied its floating out from around the sideboard Paul left.

“ Yeah?”

“ Well not why, but how. Sort of?”

“Sounds like you cracked the case Columbo.”

“Shut up.”

He waves out into the open air and you proceed like you've seen him.

“We both fell asleep around the same time right? So, maybe we both have to be in the same sleep stage? We could both be in deep sleep or REM at the same time if we fall asleep at the same time. ”

“We sleep at the same time all the time.”

“ Yes, but we went to bed at the same time. ”

“I'm lost.”

You sigh and the clank of something metal being set down rings out.

“There's different stages to sleep, depending on how long you've been sleeping. If we go to sleep at the same time maybe we could test it.”

He quirks an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “You want to give me a bedtime”

“Yes.''

The resolute sound of your voice makes him break into a full grin and he withholds the puns which threaten to spill out.

Then the sickness comes wrapped in the memories of last night.

“If it's all the same to you, I'm not exactly excited about going back,” another yawn wracks him and he's thankful for it hiding the shake in his words. He lets his head lol to the side “I can't promise I'll stay awake anyway.”

“Rough day?” Your voice has lost any edge and he doesn't know why it makes his chest ache.

“Just, long.”

His stomach suddenly grumbles loud enough to hear and you laugh quietly. “I should probably eat before I pass out” he grimaces, hauling himself up with a groan.

“You making some sort of future food? Astronaut blocks, powder you stir into water that keeps you full all day.”

You laugh, and he stretches his arms above him smiling to himself.

“Lembas bread.” you quip.

D. RiPpp…

His eyes snap open, dust twisting above him dancing in a gentle light that nowhere provides.

The drip is always off on this side, garbled like it's been re-recorded so many times the edges of the sound have lost any clarity.

You're going to be so smug.

The dread hits him then, catches and settles in the pit of his stomach as he climbs out of bed and peers into the hallway shielding his eyes from the unwavering light at the end.

There's a fleeting fear that you might not be here this time, leaving him to navigate the nightmare alone.

It makes his feet move a little quicker, over the disarray and dirt that clings to the world around him. The items from his life sitting amongst it all like pristine placeholders for when he'd finally checked out for the day.

You're standing at the threshold to your bedroom door when he makes his way through.

Biting at the side of your thumb with a small frown as you glare at the darkness in front of you.

You look tired, clothes wrinkled and posture leaning awkwardly.

“So, this is when you gloat, yeah?”

You startle a little before a triumphant grin spreads on your face.

“I told you.”

“I never said you were wrong.” He scratches at his neck looking over the room. “So what now?”

Your grin dies and you turn away from him, taking tentative footsteps edging around the black.

He wishes he wanted to move, but he doesn't, he's rooted to the floor, watching you.

He can just about see the kitchen floor, it's completely black, indistinguishable between the darkness and the liquid that's now merged with it, slowly soaking out onto the carpet that borders where the linoleum should be.

You're leaning in, you're so close to it.

He swallows.

“I've been reading up, about where we might be.”

“You have?” you look at him over your shoulder and he manages a step forward .

“You're not the only one who can investigate and shit.”

He squirms internally under your gaze wondering if you can see his heart pounding, eyes flicking to the shadows.

Nodding his head behind him, he moves back as soon as you start to approach, slipping behind waves of light as you follow.

Thank fuck.

“D&D? “

You say face unconvinced as he waves his hands out with a flourish to the books that lay haphazardly at the end of his bed.

“What?”

“I was just kind of hoping for something. Real.“

His face falls and he looks at you eyes slowly moving to the light which now pours in through a dark window.

You press your lips into a hard line nodding to yourself. “Fair point.”

He settles onto the end of the bed pulling the book onto his lap and opening his notepad. Pages decorated in scrawl, page numbers circled, words underlined.

“So there's a few planes that match stuff here, but the cosmology of planes just makes sense, like the overlaps and- ”

His eyes flick up to where you stand, wide eyed and staring.

“Lost?” he asks and you nod your head stepping towards him.

“Shit. Okay.”

You come to sit beside him.

“Where'd I lose ya’”

You wince “The beginning?”

You smell like the cold, like when Wayne would come back home on early spring mornings, the world still dark, bird chatter in the trees around the trailer.

It makes him homesick.

He tells you the basics: the idea of the planes, overlapping worlds, door ways of colours.

You're a good student, interested, asking questions.

Running off on tangents with him.

He explains the fey wilds and all the other worlds that he noted down messily as the bus swayed this morning.

“So what's the dark?”

He flips the pages, doodles of monsters and ghouls litter the page and he passes you the book.

The Abyss.

Sprawling desolate landscapes and figures shrouded in shadow stare back from the pages and he looks to you.

“Yeah that checks out.”

Your eyes scan the pages, taking in details about shades and fiends, creatures that suck the life from you.

He watches you absorb it all, then your eyes lift, staring at a spot on the other side of the room before you abruptly stand.

“Where are you going? Hey?” his arm shoots out grabbing your wrist. .

“To look at it, if it's a different place then -”

“Can we not, go stare into the dark caverns of hell tonight.”

He drops his grip on you, hand scrubbing over his face.

“Don't you want to know if there's something in there? “

“It hissed and made screeching sounds that made my lungs feel like they were going to explode. I think it's a damn safe bet something in there.”

Your face softens a fraction, eyes moving to watch where his leg is bouncing and he slaps a palm to it in an attempt to steady it.

“Okay.”

You offer the book back to him and he takes it sceptically.

“Okay?”

“We know how to get here now, it can wait.” You say with a shrug.

He watches as you come to sit back on the bed leg tucked up under yourself.

“So, what now dungeon master?”

He lets himself fall backwards onto the bed and you look down at him expectantly as he waves the book at you.

“Roll for initiative?”

The only noise that echos is the drip, the sound curls then dodges around rays of light and distended furniture until it dissolves into the black.

Your muffled laughters hidden away behind walls of light, his responding grin concealed by its gentle movements which roll and flutter.

The next drip falls without a sound, a spark of light blinks behind crumbling plaster.

The abyss starts to move.

Tag list: @munsonburn3r @winchester-angel @kellsck @valhallavalkyrie9 @em0220

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @strangersmunsons @hellfirenacht

Let me know if you would like to be added <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #joseph quinn #knock knock #my writing #Spotify

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britany1997 · 2 days

Text

Howl at the Moon

Part three

Werewolf Steve x GN Reader

Part one, Part two

We all deserve some super sweet, stressed werewolf Steve fluff after my finals

Steve faced his own reflection in the employee bathroom. He gripped the sink as he breathed deeply, trying desperately to calm himself. It was the first night in a long time Steve had had to work an evening shift on the night of a full moon.

He rubbed his face with his hands, reminding himself that Family Video closed at 7:30, and the sun set at 8. That was more than enough time for Dustin to meet him at his house and make sure he was secured in the basement.

He sighed, but now he had you to worry about.

What if there wasn’t enough time? What if he got loose and found you? What if he hurt you? He grimaced at the thought. That wasn’t an option.

Steve splashed some water on his face. He could do this. Robin was staying late to close up, so he could leave a little earlier if he needed to, he’d be home in plenty of time.

Everything was going to be fine.

“What do you mean you lost him?” Robin whisper-screamed into the phone, her eyes darting around to Keith’s security cameras (which she was hoping were just for show.)

“He’s a giant, brown wolf! How do you lose one of those?” She hissed.

Dustin’s chattering on the other end of the line only made her groan and rub her temples.

“Well what should we do?” She asked, “do we track him down? Could we even get him home if we found him?”

God she wanted to slam the phone into the cradle repeatedly.

“Ok fine fine fine, you’re right. Just give me a second, I need to cancel on Vicky.”

Robin promptly hung up before Dustin could say anything else.

She sighed. Steve was going to be covering any shift she told him to till she graduated.

You hummed along softly as your Walkman blared The Cure. You were taking a walk through the woods by your house, picking flowers and stargazing.

As the tape switched between songs, you heard a soft whining coming from behind you.

You whirled around, only to be met with the sight of the biggest dog you’d ever seen.

You probably should have been intimidated by his imposing size, but he was so…friendly.

When you turned, his tail started to thump loudly on the dirt floor in excitement. His lips seemed to pull up slightly, almost as if he was smiling.

You were charmed, returning his smile with one of your own. You approached him hesitantly, hoping he’d let you pet him, but before you could reach out, he trotted over to nuzzle his head against your hand.

You laughed at his eagerness and scratched behind his ears.

The dog barked happily, obviously pleased with your attention. While you pet his head with one hand, he licked all over the other, forcing you to wipe off his slobber on your jeans several times.

After awhile, you began to wonder if this dog belonged to anyone. You checked around his neck, and smiled a bit when you didn’t find a collar.

“Do you want to come home with me?” You asked, scratching behind his ears once more.

The dog licked your cheek so enthusiastically, you almost toppled over. You’d take that as a yes.

You smiled as you lead him home.

Steve woke up to the familiar, post full moon pounding in his head. He groaned and rubbed his temples.

…

He rubbed his temples?

Steve froze. How could he not be chained to the wall right now.

His eyes darted around an unfamiliar, but cozy, living room as he realized he was most definitely not in his basement.

In fact, he wasn’t even in his house.

Steve panicked. He crept around, trying to find some semblance of an idea of where he’d ended up without waking the owners.

Whose house was this? Had he actually broken into someone’s home while in wolf form?

But everything seemed to be in perfect condition, even the front door! Wouldn’t he have torn everything up? He scratched his head in confusion.

Suddenly he froze.

Right there on the mantle was a picture of you.

He slowly, nervously, made his way over to the mantle. Scratch that, there were tons of pictures of you.

Steve wanted to scream. Somehow, he’d found his way into your home.

His head snapped in the direction of the stairs as he heard some rustling.

Steve knew he had to get out, and fast.

But there was the small problem of…not having any clothes.

In a panic, Steve grabbed a blanket from your sofa, wrapped it around his waist, and snuck out the front door as quickly and quietly as he possibly could.

He hoped a detour to his house wouldn’t make him too late to work. He was already envisioning the earful he’d get from Robin after, what he assumed, had been a pretty big escape last night.

He sighed, being a werewolf sucked.

“So you were just in their house?” Robin cringed, “how’d you even find their house? That’s super weird Steve.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know,” he groaned, “I have no idea how it happened, I told you I can never remember what happens on full moon nights.”

“It’s gotta be a wolf thing,” Robin decided, “you probably sniffed them out or something.”

“Yeah I guess, maybe we should-”

Robin and Steve’s heads both snapped to the front door as the bell jingled, signaling your entrance.

Robin’s eyes widened at the sight of you. She turned to Steve, then turned back to you, then turned to Steve again. “I’ll just uh- take my break then.” She slunk to the back room, but left the door open to hear everything of course.

“Hi,” Steve shivered. Did you see him leaving your house somehow? Did he somehow let you know it was him last night? Did you know what he was?

“Hi,” you replied, a pained smile on your face.

Steve’s gaze softened, “what’s wrong?”

You sighed, pulling posters out of your bag.

“I lost my dog,” you told him.

Steve’s face went white as a bed sheet. “Y-your dog?”

You nodded. “I found him wandering the woods last night and brought him home,” you explained, “I guess I haven’t had him for that long, but he was sooo sweet.”

You showed Steve the picture you’d drawn on the posters of the big, brown dog from last night.

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly. “He looks pretty uh… tough and intimidating.”

You shook your head furiously, “not at all! When I took him home last night, I put a blanket on the sofa for him so he could sleep there because I didn’t want him to shed all over my white bedspread right?”

Steve nodded as you related the tale.

“Well, I guess he wanted to be with me instead, because he sat outside my bedroom door whining! It was sooo cute.”

Steve cringed internally.

“I finally just went downstairs to pet his head until he fell asleep, he’s gotta be the most cuddly dog ever.”

Your smile fell, “I just don’t know why he’d leave.”

Steve felt tremendously guilty.

“Did you want us to hang one of your posters?” He asked.

Your head perked up, “could you?”

Steve nodded, “yeah, yeah of course. I’m uh something of a dog person myself.”

Your bright smile returned, “thank you so much Steve!” You handed him a poster, “it means a lot.”

“It’s really no problem,” he blushed.

Once you were out the door to hang more posters, Steve let out a deep sigh and crumpled to the floor behind the desk.

He felt Robin patting his back, “look on the bright side.”

“What?”

Robin smiled weakly, “at least they think you’re cute.”

Steve groaned.

Taglist🐺

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @crustyboypix @gothamslostboy @bloodywickedvamp @ria-coolgirl @rynsfandomsfun @dwaynesluscioushair @arbesa-mind @lostboys1987girl @anna1306 @arenpath @solobagginses @teelas-library @kurt-nightcrawler @bitchyexpertprincess @warrior-616 @f4iryfxies @palomam18 @dwaynedelight @walmart-icarus

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bingbongsupremacy · 5 hours

Text

Notice Me

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warning: Reader wears a dress, cursing

Summary: You really want Steve to notice you. What you don't realize is that Eddie's been there all along.

Eddie is only 1 yr older than the reader.

*Not Proof Read*

Ok, I had a bit of a brain block halfway through writing this one. I hope it's not too noticeable. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thanks for reading!

□□□□□□□□

" I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress. " Jeff states with a mouthful of sandwich.

" I'm trying something different. " I set my tray down across from the guy. " Why, does it look bad? "

" No, just different. " Eddie adds in, a smile on his face.

God, I love that smile. Stop. Don't make it weird. He doesn't like you. Besides, what if it makes things in the friend group weird? It's better to date someone outside of the group like Steve.

Across the room I spot the boy in my thoughts. Steve is chatting away with some of the guys on his team, oblivious to my gaze. He's not bad looking. Definitely not Eddie, but not hard on the eyes.

I tear my gaze away from the boy only to discover Eddie looking at me. He glances back at the table I was looking at and then down at my clothes, his eyebrows quirking in realization. He doesn't say anything, opting to instead keep listening to Doug talk about one of the past campaigns.

Halfway through lunch I begin to pack up my things.

" Where are you going? " Eddie asks curiously, cutting off Jeff.

" The business club. They have meetings second half of lunch every Tuesday. " I don't necessarily want to go but Steve's really active in it and I figured it might be a good place to try to get to know him.

Eddie's brows furrow in confusion. " Since when are you interested in business? "

" Since yesterday when I joined. " I roll my eyes. " What is this, an interrogation? "

" Just curious. " Eddie stands up, pulling his jacket off of the back of his chair. " I'll walk you. "

" Sure. It's not thar far. "

We head out of the lunch room together in the direction the business classroom.

" Hey, don't get mad at me, " Eddie begins slightly nervously. " But are you doing all of this, " He gestures to my clothes and the room down the hall. " for Harrington? "

I feel heat rise to my cheeks. I had hoped no one would notice. " What makes you say that? " I try to act calmly.

Eddie shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets. " Dunno maybe because...you're dressed like every other girl in the school, you joined the club he's the president of and I saw you at his basketball game last night. You hate basketball. "

" I don't hate basketball...I just don't particularly enjoy or understand it. " I say while stopping in front of the classroom. Inside lots if kids are sitting around the tables, waiting for Steve to talk.

Eddie rolls his eyes. " You hate basketball. So you're doing all this for a guy? Why? Because you like him? "

My eyes widen. I clamp my hand over his mouth, pulling the boy away from the open door. " Shut the fuck up, Eddie. Someone could hear you. " I hiss. I move my hand away from his soft lips.

I wonder how it would feel to kiss-Stop.

I step away from the guy, needing to create some distance between us.

" Look, personally I don't think it's a good idea to do what you're doing. " Eddie begins. " But it's your life. Whatever. Listen, " Eddie pulls out a folded slip of paper from his ripped jeans. " the band landed a gig at The Hideout next Friday and I'd really love if you'd come watch. " He unfolds the paper to reveal a printed poster of the band and the bar name.

" Oh fuck yeah, Eddie!! I knew you'd land a gig! " I exclaim while wrapping the boy into a hug. " I'm so fucking proud of you, dude. I'll be there, I swear. "

Eddie wraps his warm arms around me. The faint smell of weed and cheap cologne fills my nostrils, a smell that's just so Eddie.

His face is so close to mine. I can feel his breath on my cheek. If I lean a little I could just k-Stop it. He doesn't like you like that. You're just a friend.

" I should be getting inside. " I pull away, needing to create some distance between us to clear my head.

Eddie gives me a small wave good bye.

I step into the classroom and take a seat at one of the tables. This is going to be boring as shit.

The club meeting seems to take forever to finish up. I don't understand half of what anyone is saying nor am I very interested in finding out what it means. By the end, I'm very happy when the end of lunch bell rings.

I begin to pack up my things when I notice Steve walking towards me.

" Hey! Are you new to the club? " He asks kindly. His smile is wide and friendly. He extends a hand.

I shake his hand and smile back. " Yeah, actually! I joined yesterday. "

" Well, it's always nice to see a new face. I'm Steve. I don't think we've ever officially met. Are you in my next hour math class? "

I nod. " I am, yeah! I'm Y/N by the way. "

Steve grabs his backpack from one of the tables as we walk towards the door. " Is it cool if I walk with you then? "

" Of course. "

Steve's actually pretty nice. Very smart too. He has a bit of a reputation of being a bully, especially around Tommy, but so far I can't see it.

He helps math pass by a lot faster, especially since he understands the concepts a lot more than me.

" Are you free this Thursday? " Steve asks.

That's the day we play DND. Shit

But who knows if I'll get another opportunity with Steve like this.

" Yeah. " I nod, jotting down an answer on my homework. " Why? "

" Well, a few of my friends and I are going Donny's Diner after school to hang out. You're welcome to come if you'd like. "

I'm so torn. Eddie or Steve? Well, there's always another campaign next week. Who knows if Steve will invite me out again.

" Sounds like fun. I'll be there. "

********

" Come on, Y/N. This is 7 millionth time you've canceled on plans with us in two weeks. Is loverboy really that important? " Eddie's voice is slightly annoyed.

" Relax, Ed. It's only been 2 times. I promise I'll go to the next movie night, I swear. "

Eddie sighs. " You better. I miss hanging out with you, who else am I supposed to make snide comments with? "

" What about Gareth? "

" Gareth's not at peak humor like you are. "

A soft 'hey' makes its way through my phone.

" I'll be there next time. " I feel bad for ditching our monthly movie night, but Steve invited me to a party.

" Are you still coming to the gig on Friday? " Eddie asks hopefully.

" I wouldn't miss it for the world. "

Eddie and I end our phone call just in time for Steve and Nancy to show up.

I've actually had a lot of fun with Steve and his friends the past few weeks. I'm not the biggest fan of Tommy and Carol, but Nancy and Barb aren't that bad.

" Are you coming to the game on Friday? " Nancy asks while handing me a beer.

Eddie's gig's on Friday.

" What time is it? " I ask while taking a sip of the amber liquid.

" Varsity starts and 7 and ends at 8-8:30. We're all planning on going to Donny's after. You should come. " Nancy invites with a warm smile.

Corroded Coffin plays at 10. If I'm careful, I should be able to make it.

" I'll be there. "

I just really have to keep track of time.

******

" I can't believe you shot from that far, that was amazing. " I compliment Steve in awe.

Steve smiles widely. " I honestly can't believe it either. I'm still in shock. "

I'm glad I came out tonight. I didn't really understand the game but it's been nice to talk to Steve and the others. Although, I feel like I might've forgotten something.

Eddie.

" Shit. " I blurt, my eyes widening. I look over at the clock on the diner wall. 10:40. " I've got to go. " I hurry out of the diner booth I'm in.

" Is everything alright? " Steve asks in confusion.

" I forgot I had to do something tonight. " I explain quickly. " Thank you guys for inviting me, I'll see you later. " I excuse myself. I quickly pay my tab with the waitress before heading out to my bike. Thank god I chose to bring to with me instead of taking a ride with Steve. There's no way I could make it to The Hide Out on foot.

Eddie's going to kill me. I can't believe I forgot about tonight.

I pull up to the bar to see the guys loading up the back of Eddie's van. Shit, I missed it.

Eddie doesn't acknowledge me as I pull my bike to a stop a few feet away from the band.

" I'm so sorry, guys. " I apologize to Jeff, Gareth and Doug who are closest to me.

" T's fine. " Gareth mumbles. " Eddie's the one who's pissed. "

Over his shoulder, I can hear Eddie curse as he drops a box of cords on the street floor.

" You should go talk to him. We'll give you guys space. We've got stuff to clean up inside anyway. " Jeff leads the guys back into the bar leaving me and Eddie alone outside.

Part of me wishes they were still here. I'm fucking terrified to talk to Eddie. I know I let him down. I just hope I didn't fuck everything up.

" I'm sorry, Edd-"

Eddie cuts me off. " You promised. " He stands up from his place by the fallen box of cords, his eyes filled with anger and hurt. " You fucking promised, Y/N. You said you'd be here. You missed the whole fucking thing! "

" I'm sorry, I lost track of time. I went to dinner with Steve and his friends and I-"

Eddie lets out a bitter chuckle. " Of course, you were with Steve. When aren't you with Steve? It's like you've completely forgotten that you have other friends. "

" Thanks not true! " I argue, beginning to feel defensive. " I hang out with you guys all the time. "

" Bullshit. You've blown us off every chance you've gotten to. " Eddie tosses the cords into the back of his van, quickly moving to pick up the rest of his stuff.

He's not wrong. I hadn't realized how many times I'd stood the boys up. How many times I'd stood Eddie up.

" I don't even know you anymore, Y/N. " Eddie's voice is soft but full of hurt. " You've become a completely different person. Your style, your interests. "

" I'm allowed to change, Eddie. "

" The problem is you're not changing because it's shit you like. You're changing because you want someone to like you. You're lying to yourself and you're lying to Steve. If he can't like you the way you normally are, then he doesn't deserve to be with you. You need someone who accepts you for the way you are. Not someone you need to change for. " Eddie shakes his head in disapproval. " You know what, Y/N, I'm done. "

My brows furrow in confusion. " What? "

" I'm done waiting for you, Y/N. " Eddie avoids my gaze, his face lighting up from what I think is anger. " You never seem to realize that I'm here. I fucking like you. "

My eyes widen.

Eddie likes me?

" I like the way you dress. I like the way you smile. I like the way you're always you! Or at least, the way you were always you. But I'm not good enough for you, and I see that now. Nothing I ever do will make you like me back. "

A sinking feeling builds in my stomach as I realize what Eddie's about to say.

" I can't be your friend anymore. I-I thought I could handle it but I can't. We're done, Y/N. " Eddie turns and begins to quickly walk back into the building.

" Eddie! " I call after the boy, trying to chase him into the bar. " Wait-Eddie! "

The bouncer at the door refuses to let me in, his strong arms holding back from getting inside.

" Eddie! Please! "

He doesn't look back. He doesn't listen.

I fucked up.

*****

It's been three days since I missed Eddie's band preform. He's completely ignored me at school. I don't eat lunch with the boys anymore, it's too awkward. The one day I tried Eddie didn't bother to show up.

I've spent the last few days thinking about Eddie's confession. How did I miss it?

I'm so fucking stupid.

It was so obvious.

He opened my door. He stood up for me. He went out of his way to make sure I got home safe after work. He always showed up to important events for me. He gave me gifts.

And I couldn't even make it to the most important thing to him.

How could I think he wouldn't like me back?

I'm a shitty person. I'm a shitty friend.

" Hey, Y/N. " Steve's voice pulls me out of my head.

I look up to see the boy sitting across from me with a smile. " Hey. " I smile weakly at him.

This is my other issue. I have to tell Steve I've been lying.

Steve seems to notice something wrong. " Are you okay? "

I shake my head. " Not really but I will be. Eventually. "

" Do you want to talk about it? "

He's so sweet. Why did I fucking lie to him?

" You're going to hate me. " I whisper.

Confusion falls Steve's face. " I couldn't hate you. What are you talking about? "

It's now or never.

" I lied to you, Steve. " I begin. " And in the process, I hurt you and someone I really care about. " I gesture down to my clothes. " This isn't me, Steve. I don't wear shit like this. "

Steve's eyes widen.

Embarrassed to see his reaction, I look away. I know he's going to hate me.

" I don't wear dresses and I don't wear uncomfortable shoes like this. I fucking hate business. And I really couldn't care less about basketball. I'm sorry I just don't understand. What I'm saying is, Steve, I liked you and I tried to become someone else to impress you. But I can't do that. It's not fair to you or me. "

I close my eyes, preparing for Steve to curse me out or call me a freak or something.

He doesn't.

" I know. "

I snap my head towards him. " What? "

Steve sends me a small smile. " I know you were lying. "

" How? "

Steve chuckles. " We were in middle school together. And I saw you around the school before we started talking in class. I know what you dress like. I figured you weren't that into business because every time we go to a club meeting you look like you're about to fall asleep. Also, we don't have goalies in basketball. And I had a hunch that you might've had a crush on me, I just didn't have the heart to tell you I'm dating Nancy. I really like hanging out with you, just only as friends. " He says softly.

I feel heat rush to my cheeks. I knew all along. I drop my head onto the table in front of me, trying to hide myself from the boy. This week keeps getting worse and worse. " I'm so fucking stupid. "

Steve gently pats my arm. " No, you're not. I should've told you about Nancy. We all make mistakes, I'm sure whatever you did to your friend, if you just apologize it'll help. "

I peek over my arms and sigh. " I don't know. I messed up pretty bad. "

Steve leans back in his chair. " Well, we've still got about 40 minutes of lunch left. If you want to talk, I'm all ears. "

" Well, it started the day after I found out we had a class together..." I explain the while situation to Steve who's silent majority of the time. He doesn't make me feel judged, just heard.

At the end he finally speaks.

" That's a lot. "

I groan. " I know. And now I don't known what to do. "

" I think you should apologize and tell him how you feel. What's the worst that could happen because of it? " Steve gently pats my hand.

" You're right. " I sigh. " I should go talk to him. " I push myself up out of my chair. " Thanks Steve. "

Steve sends me a smile. " Of course, anytime. "

Now it's time to fix things with Eddie.

******

Mismatched music pours out of Gareths garage as I come to a stop on my bike.

They're tuning up.

Memories of me hanging out with the guys while they practice fill my mind as I get closer to the building.

My heart pounds. What if Eddie hates me? What if they all do? Gareth and Jeff were a little upset but they got over it pretty quickly. Doug didn't give a fuck. What if that's a lie?

Eddie laughs at something Jeff says before turning around and seeing me. His laughter and smile slowly fade until he's left with a neutral expression. " Hey. " He greets quietly, so quiet it's nearly drowned out by Doug's guitar.

" Hey. " I respond feeling awkward. I glance around to see my friends watching us in confusion.

Normally when we get into fights it's over in a few hours. A day at most. Not this one.

" Can we talk? " I ask.

Eddie studies me for a moment. He looks like he's contemplating something. With a sigh, he sets down his guitar and begins to walk past me. " What's there to talk about, Y/N? "

We make far enough away from the garage to have some privacy.

" I want to apologize. " Will he even accept my apology?

Eddie folds his arms in front of his chest, his expression a mixture of anger and hurt. " You can't just run back to me because things with Steve didn't work out. "

" That's not what I'm doing. " I sigh. " Eddie, you were right. I was trying to change myself for someone else-to be someone else, and that was wrong. I...I liked Steve because I thought I had a better shot at somehow dating him than dating you. " I feel heat rise to my cheeks. I avoid his gaze. " I thought that you didn't like me...that you wouldn't ever like me. I mean, we've known each other for years and you've never made a move-at least none that I had realized at the time. I'm so stupid. And I'm so sorry for missing your show and missing our hang out days. That wasnt right. I made plans with you first and I should've prioritized those first. " I groan, burying my face in my hands. I'm stupid and embarrassed.

" You liked me? "

I nod, my head moving down to my arms. " Since middle school. "

Eddie is silent for a moment. " We're both fucking idiots. " He chuckles, taking me by surprise.

I look up from my arms, confusion on my face.

Eddie looks over at me, a small smile on his face. " I've liked you since middle school too. "

What the fuck.

" Are you kidding me? " I groan in frustration. " All this shit could've been avoided if we just had better observational skills. "

" And communication skills. " Eddie points out.

I nod. " What do we do now? " I ask quietly, scared of what he'll say.

Eddie sighs. " Well, if I'm honest, I'm still a little upset about you missing the show, "

Of course, that's a big thing. I hope I didn't fuck this up forever.

" but...I guess it's okay since we got invited back to play this Friday...And every Friday after that. " A wide smile spreads across Eddie's face.

" Really?! Oh my gosh, Eddie! That's amazing! I'm so excited for you! "

" Thank you, thank you. " Eddie chuckles at my excitement. " I really hope you can make it to my show this Friday though. "

I nod. " Yes. I'll be there, I swear. "

" Good, because I'd really love to introduce the bar owner to my new partner...if you want to be my new partner, that is. " A hint of nervousness is hidden in his voice as he watches my expression.

My heart pounds. Is this really happening?

" I'd love that. " I grin.

A wide smile breaks onto his face. " Let's go tell the boys. " He gently grabs my hand while threading his fingers through mine.

I am definitely going to be there for his show this Friday.

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #x you #x female reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x yn #stranger things x you #stranger things fanart #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #xreader #x y/n

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 13 hours

Note

the prompt; “I love you. Now say it back.” “Please— stop talking, save it till we get you help—” “Say it back—“ “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much, please don’t leave me—”

with Steve harrington or Peter Parker? whatever feels right to u, ly!

FUCK!!! WHY MY TWO BEST BOYS AGAINST EACH OTHER!!!! i went with steve cause this just fits season4 vibes more. kinda au since im letting eddie live.

you almost made it out. everyone almost made it out alive and relatively unscathed. eddie was cut and bleeding horribly, lucas was screaming over the walkie about max and her bones, and steve was trying to hurry everyone through the gate in the trailers ceiling. robin and nancy got through fine, eddie with the help of dustin got free so it was just you and steve left.

steve’s wounds were starting to bleed again, black streaks crawling up his neck and along his hands. he started to stumble, his legs crumbling and bringing him to the vine infested floor. “steve!” rushing to his side and looking over his injuries, it wasn’t looking good. “we need a hospital,” whispered to yourself as you realized the extent of his wounds.

you threw one arm over your shoulders and tried to hoist him up but his dead weight pulled you down. “come on, baby. we gotta get you through.” tears starting to wet your eyes and voice starting to crack when encouraging steve forward.

“i- i don’t-“ “no, come on, steve. we can do it.” trying again to hold him upright and towards the hanging rope. with a groan he tried to take some of his weight when taking small steps closer and closer to freedom.

“i love you, just so you know. i love you so much.” he coughed at the end and black goo covered his chin. “steve you’ll be fine, don’t accept this.” choosing denial to get you through this.

“say it back, please. i- i want to remember your- your voice.” his breath getting wheezy. “please save your breath, we need help first-“ guiding his hands onto the bedding line.

his paling face turned to you, one hand moving to caress at your dirty cheek, his thumb a welcoming weight. “please, just in case. i don’t want you to- to torment yourself over this. please, sweetheart.”

the tears started to stream down your face, cleaning away bits of grime to show the terrified you underneath. “i love you,” your voice hiccuped, “i love you so- so fucking much, steve harrington. so please! please just hold on longer until we can get to the hospital! i- i need you.” lips wobbling from a swallowed sob.

steve smiled stiffly, holding back a wince at just the simple action. “i love you until my dying breath.” and then his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell down. “steve! steve, no, no!”

a/n: most of the request will be short since it’s just easier that way for me.

#erin writes #erin’s blurb requests #a 1k special #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington au #steve harrington fic #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic

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stevestark · 3 days

Note

🎃+ Stranger Things

🎃 - “we accidentally matched costumes and now everyone thinks we’re dating” send me an emoji + a fandom and I'll write you a mini fic!

Steve stares at the clothing Robin has laid out on his bed, a frown on his face. "Seriously, Rob? Do I have to wear this?"

"A bet's a bet, dingus," Robin says. "You're the dumbass who bet me that I couldn't get Vickie to do a keg stand last weekend, and you agreed that if she did, I get to choose your costume."

"Yeah," Steve says, "but a dress?"

"Aww, don't worry, Stevie," Robin croons. "You've totally got the legs for it."

Steve sighs and picks up the dress. "Fine. But I draw the line at makeup. I will not be totally embarrassed in my own home."

Robin cackles with glee and shoves Steve toward his bathroom. "This is going to be amazing."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Eddie opens the door to the trailer right as Dustin lifts his hand to pound on it again; "Chill out, dude. I heard you the first time. Knock any louder, and you're gonna crack the windows."

"Sorry," Dustin says, not sounding at all apologetic. "But this hay is really heavy and I still have to go get my costume on for Steve's party."

Eddie grins, taking the armful from Dustin. "Thanks, man. How'd you get your hands on so much anyway?"

Dustin shrugs, and says, "My mom's like, super into crafting these days. She made all our Halloween decorations this year, and this was all her leftovers."

"Sick. Okay, scram, I got it from here. Tell your mom I said thanks."

"Tell her yourself. She's waiting in the car."

Eddie perks up immediately. "I thought you were having Nancy bring you? Why didn't you say Mama Henderson was here?" he asks, running outside to go give Mrs. Henderson a squeeze.

Dustin ambles along behind him muttering the whole time about how everyone always likes his mom more than him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The party starts at 8pm sharp, which naturally means everyone shows up at 8:30; Steve has different music playing in every room, loud enough so you can hear it but not so loud that they drown each other out. He's got a few kegs, and a shitload of soda, and Hopper and Joyce are on their way, prepared to watch the kids to make sure none of them try to sneak any booze.

The doorbell rings, and Robin races him to the door, flinging it open excitedly. All of the kids, plus Joyce and Hopper are gathered on the front walk, chattering excitedly and fawning over each others' costumes.

"Okay, okay," Robin says, "Let's get this party going!" Joyce gives her a hug as she walks in and compliments her Bowie costume, and Hopper grunts as he passes; if Robin had to bet, she'd guess Joyce forced him into their couple's costume of The Dread Pirate Roberts and Princess Buttercup, but they look cute as hell so she doesn't know why he's so mad.

The kids are an eclectic bunch of costumes, with Max and El as the twins from The Shining, Dustin as Marty McFly, Mike, Will, and Lucas as the three male leads from The Breakfast Club; Jonathan and Nancy are dressed as Princess Leia and Han Solo, Argyle is Tommy Chong, and Eddie is...oh my God.

Robin throws back her head and cackles at the sight of Eddie dressed as The Scarecrow. "Oh my God. Oh my God, this is too good."

Eddie makes a dramatic show of stumbling through the door and gives a bow. "I figured I'm already stumbling around all the time, might as well make it work in my favor."

Robin just laughs some more, and drags Eddie into the kitchen, where Steve is explaining the drinks situation to Hopper and Joyce.

Eddie stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Steve in sparkly kitten heels and a knee-length checkered dress. "Holy shit."

Steve stops mid-sentence and looks up at Eddie; "Robin? Now might be a good time for you to run."

Robin darts behind Hopper, grabbing onto the back of his shirt and poking her head around his side. "I swear, Steve, I had no idea."

Joyce and Hopper are fighting back laughter, and Eddie is still staring open-mouthed at Steve.

"So you're telling me we accidentally wore a couple's costume?"

Eddie shakes his head and grins at Steve. "Ah, a true Wizard of Oz connoisseur, acknowledging the long-ignored sexual tension between Dorothy Gale and The Scarecrow."

Hopper actually chokes at that, and tries to mask it as a cough; he reaches behind himself and pulls Robin out from behind him. "So," he says, mirth coloring his tone. "You're the reason Harrington is stumbling around in heels?"

Robin nods, trying not to laugh. "He lost a bet."

Joyce shakes her head fondly and pats Steve on the shoulder. "You've got the legs for it, honey," she says kindly.

"That's what I said!" Robin yells, gesturing at Steve's admittedly toned calves.

"I hate everyone in this kitchen," Steve grumbles, heading to open the door as more guests arrive.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The party gets underway, and everyone is having a good time; Hopper and Joyce are vigilantly holding court in the kitchen, to the kids' dismay, but Robin just shushes them and passes a single cup of beer for them to pass around. Each of them takes a sip and scrunches their noses, shaking their heads; "That's vile," Max says, spitting her sip back into the cup. Robin grins and gives Steve a thumbs up from across the room; they knew if they gave the kids shitty beer they'd lose all interest in drinking.

Steve is standing with Argyle, who's waxing poetic to him about the impact Cheech and Chong have had on society, and trying to look interested; Eddie is on the other side of the room, debating Star Wars with Jonathan and Nancy; the members of Corroded Coffin are dancing with Robin's band friends, and everyone is having a really good time, which is a welcome relief in the wake of finally defeating the monsters in their town.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

At the end of the night, Hopper and Joyce round up all the kids and drive them home in shifts; Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, and Eddie are all too tipsy to drive, and have announced they're sleeping over at Steve's to help him and Robin clean up.

As they're doing so, collecting red solo cups and candy wrappers in each room, Eddie sidles up to Steve.

"Surprised you're still wearing the shoes," he says, a sly grin on his face.

"They're not so uncomfortable after wearing them for a few hours," Steve says with a shrug.

"You know," Eddie says slowly. "Everyone was asking me tonight when I finally made a move on you. Nobody seemed to believe we didn't match our costumes on purpose."

Steve laughs softly. "Yeah, I got the same treatment all night."

Eddie inches closer to Steve, crowding him against the dining room table. "Well," he drawls. "Maybe we should take their advice?"

Steve looks sharply up at Eddie. "W...what?"

Eddie lifts his hand to gently fix Steve's Dorothy wig. "I mean, come on, Steve. We spend all our time together anyway. What's the difference in that and just...throwing in a little making out?"

Steve flushes and ducks his head. "Didn't think you were interested."

"Baby," Eddie says, tipping Steve's head back up with a finger under his chin. "I've been flirting with you relentlessly for weeks."

Steve blinks rapidly and then crushes his lips against Eddie's. "Thank god," he says breathlessly when they pull apart. "Kinda pissed I had to wear a dress for you to make a move though."

Eddie laughs, loud and bright. "Steve, you could've worn a burlap sack and I'd still have a hard time not kissing you in front of everyone. I've been dying to do this."

Robin walks in right then and throws her fists up in victory. "FINALLY!" she screeches. "GUYS! It happened!"

"I hate all of you," Eddie and Steve say in unison as everyone runs in, catcalling them.

"Is now a bad time to say I knew what Eddie was dressing as and that Vickie had been practicing her keg stands and that this whole thing was an elaborate plot?" Robin asks, smirking triumphantly.

Steve freezes and narrows his eyes at Robin. "Hopper's not here to protect you now, Buckley," he says, lunging towards her and chasing her through his house as she cackles.

#answered #machtaholic #stranger things fic #steddie #steddie fic #me: i'll write you a mini fic!#also me: writes 1.4k #my fic

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love-kurdt · 24 hours

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Now That We Don't Talk (byler): 2

word count: 15,023

warnings for this chapter: homophobia, parental disownment, very graphic imagery presented in a nightmare (car crash, blood and dying), underage drinking, sexual content, assault/rape. this is semi-autobiographical so pls be kind <3

in short, if you are emotionally or mentally vulnerable, pls dni.

“Uh… hey. I’m– I’m Will. Byers,” I stuttered out, shoving my hands in the pockets of my khaki pants. Matt blinked back at me for a second, as if he were processing what I was saying over the deafening music. Should I have been a little bit louder?

“H–fuck,” Matt swore, plucking a pair of plastic fangs from his mouth and tossing them somewhere behind him. He cleared his throat and shook his head, his eyes shut tightly. Had I met my awkward match? “I’m so sorry, let me start again,” he smiled, extending a hand out to me. “Hi. Matt Winters, nice to meet you.”

I took his hand, hesitantly shaking it. Of course he had the same initials as Mike. Of fucking course, out of all the people at this party that my friends could’ve introduced me to, he–

“Sorry, I’m not sure how to do this,” Matt confessed, looking a bit flustered. “I, um… I wasn’t really expecting to be, you know, set up with anyone tonight. If you aren’t able to tell, I’m pretty nervous, because you’re really cute, and I’m afraid I’m fucking this all up–”

“No no no, you’re fine! We’re on the same page,” I told him, placing a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “I’m personally kind of terrible at starting conversations, so… you’re good, I promise. And, um, you’re pretty cute yourself.” And he was. He was lean, and stood at around six feet tall, at my best estimate. He had dark eyes, full lips, an adorable nose, a light stubble across his jaw, and beautiful olive undertones in his skin.

“Thank you,” Matt said as he shifted back and forth on his feet a few times. He was probably struggling with how to progress the conversation, just like I was. I felt unsure as to if this should’ve been considered a blessing or a curse, because yes, we understood each other, but on the other hand, coming up with new subjects was neither of our strong suits.

“So,” I said with the most serious expression on my face that I could muster, “Come here often?” Matt laughed at that, and the sound of his laughter alone set a thousand butterflies free in my stomach.

He then leaned into my space to respond to my question: “I’m not much of a party person, so, not really. My best friend, Riley, is dating your DM, and they apparently arranged this… thing… a few days ago.”

“What ‘thing’?” I asked, and cocked an eyebrow.

“Where you and I… you know,” he replied with a light shrug.

I shook my head. “I don’t, actually.”

“Um…” Matt trailed off, and I quickly glanced over his shoulder to see Ivy making out with Hannah against a wall across the room before focusing back on Matt. She clearly wasn’t available to potentially come to my rescue if things went south. I really hoped that “you know” wasn’t code for “have sex.” It wasn’t that I was afraid to have sex per se, or that I didn’t want to; it was just that I wasn’t into the whole idea of one night stands or hookups. If I was going to have sex, I’d want to be in a committed relationship with the guy I was with.

Before either of us could figure out how to salvage this uncomfortable dialogue, a very familiar bass and drum introduction blared out of the PA system stationed in the corner of the living room.

“Oh, thank God, saved by The Cure. I fucking love this song,” Matt sighed loudly in relief at “Just Like Heaven”’s high pitched, organ-esque synth lead. Any doubts or reservations I was having about this man were melting away by the second.

“Really? Same here!” I exclaimed, and Matt nodded.

“Yeah, they’re one of my favorite bands. I saw them live last year, and I was never the same.” He raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck, and I gawked with wide eyes.

“I will forever be jealous of you. Robert Smith’s lyricism is unmatched.”

“You’re so right,” Matt nodded along to the beat, reaching out to hold my hand in his. “And who knows? Maybe we can go to one of their shows someday.” Was this even real? What did I do to deserve this? Did I deserve this? I’d have to stick around to find out.

“Someday. Maybe,” I found myself replying, holding onto Matt’s hand a little tighter. We’d figure out the whole intimacy situation later. In the meantime–

“Wanna… dance? Let’s dance,” Matt said, pulling me by our connected hands into the middle of the crowd of people before I could manage to protest. And claustrophobia be damned, I didn’t feel like I was going to implode. Not when Matt’s hands gripped my waist. Not when my hands slowly moved from his chest, up and around his neck. Not when we swayed back and forth in a slow dance to an upbeat song. Not when our eyes met, and Matt’s nearly black irises got impossibly darker, but in the most comforting way possible. Not when Robert Smith ended his phrase, “I’ll run away with you,” the guitar top line began again, and one of Matt’s hands gently caressed the side of my face before pulling me into a soft kiss.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was kind of worried about it being so soon after meeting him, but… I didn’t hate it. Not at all. I didn’t hate it so much that I pulled him in even closer, swiping the tip of my tongue against the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss. He let me in immediately, and suddenly our tongues were sliding against each other, and oh my God, this was my first time making out with someone, wasn’t it? Was my kissing okay? Was I doing this right? Was I–

And then I felt Matt moan against my mouth, and his grip on my hips tighten, and I knew I had a generally good idea. He ran his hands up my torso and through my hair and it was like I forgot how to breathe. "Just Like Heaven" was still playing, but I could barely hear the lyrics anymore; just mine and Matt’s simultaneous inhales and exhales, the obscene sound our lips were likely making, and our friends’ unanimous screeching in the distance. They’d been watching us, the little shits. They definitely succeeded in their mission, I’d give them that. We pulled away from one another, but not too far, as he leaned his forehead against mine, his thumb brushing my cheekbone.

“I’m not into one night stands or hookups,” I blurted out immediately. I felt heat rise to my face at my brashness. Was I sabotaging my only chance at happiness? I had probably already ruined what we had with my sky-high expectations. But before I could backtrack, Matt merely pecked my lips again with a chuckle.

“That’s perfect. Because neither am I.”

I stared up at him in awe, brushing some hair away from his eyes. “Are you real?”

“Who even is real, nowadays? We’re all just figments of the material plane, if you think about it,” Matt replied, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I rose up onto my tiptoes and kissed him this time. He melted into it instantly, and I felt like I was going to die of pure joy.

“Wanna go somewhere that’s not your place or mine?” he asked once I pulled away. I searched his face for an impending “just kidding,” or a “no homo, bro,” but found nothing of the sort. This was real. Matt Winters liked me, no mind fuckery included.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I said. Matt only grinned as he took my hand in his once again, leading me out of the crowd and out into the crisp October night, laughing the whole way to his car.

“So,” Matt said, leaning his forearms on the surface of the tabletop that separated us. “Will Byers. Tell me ten things about you, go.”

We’d driven around for a few hours, listening to music and ranking our top twenty favorite bands, and it turned out that we had a lot in common. We eventually got hungry and ventured into a twenty-four hour diner. It was about twenty minutes away from campus; a very run-down place with dim lighting and 70s wood paneling, but Matt swore the food there was to die for, so I had to try it for myself. He was very, very right; I would have believed it if someone told me the grilled cheese and tomato soup combo I ordered had been laced with crack.

“Okay,” I nodded, trying to conjure up all of my generic fun facts. “Um… I’m from Hawkins, Indiana… I have a brother named Jonathan who’s four years older than me, and a stepsister named El, but I honestly just refer to her as my sister. I love D&D and I’m part of the club here, I love to read musician biographies, and sometimes the occasional cheesy romance– you know, the ones with the abs on the cover, I’m a freshman painting major, I love to sing, but I’m awful at it–”

“Now I’ve gotta hear that singing voice of yours,” Matt declared.

I shook my head vigorously. “Not a chance.” But then Matt gave me puppy eyes. Damnit.

“...Fine. Maybe after our fifth date.”

“I’m holding you to that, Byers.”

“Anyway…” I felt a smile involuntarily spread across my face. Who even was I? I’d truly believed that I would never be able to smile again after the series of events that went down in August, but here Matt was, making smiling feel so natural. “What number was I on?”

“Six, going on seven.”

“Alright, so I–I’m not much of a drinker, but when I do, it’s usually straight up liquor. Like, shots. If I’m gonna consume alcohol, I’m gonna suffer while doing it. That way, I won’t end up liking it too much. Don’t want to end up like my…” I stopped myself from elaborating further, mentally kicking myself for revealing too much of my life, “…father.”

Matt crossed his arms and slouched back into his seat, seemingly unsurprised. “Your father’s an alcoholic, then?” he asked.

I looked down momentarily at my hands, where my knuckles had gone white while clasping them together for dear life. “Something like that,” I shrugged. “He usually had beer and whiskey, so I steer clear from those, and just do shots of vodka or tequila. I know that’s not any better, but I think that if I were to drink beer or whiskey, I’d feel…” I grimaced at the thought, “more like his son than I’d prefer.”

Matt leaned forward once more and reached out to separate my hands with his own, holding them instead. I glanced down at our intertwined fingers, then back up into Matt’s eyes, and felt my face go ablaze with furious flames. “Gotcha,” he nodded solemnly as he rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand, “I admire you for distancing yourself away from the path to becoming like him. That alone takes an incredible sense of…”

“Of what?” I asked, withdrawing my hands from his in order to take another bite of my grilled cheese.

“Would it be corny if I said ‘Will-power’?” Matt glanced at me sheepishly, and I had to hold in a laugh as I chewed.

“Incredibly,” I replied. “Although, you’re not the first one who’s said that.”

“Damnit. Who beat me to it?”

“My friend, Dustin,” I smiled at the thought of my friend. I should call him soon, I thought to myself. I miss him. “He’s always had the weirdest names for things.”

“Like what?” Matt asked, and I froze. Like what? Like… Watergate? Demodog? Vecnapocalypse? I couldn’t tell him about any of those things without sounding like a total psychopath or violating the conditions of my NDAs.

I settled on a simple, “... I forgot.”

Matt snapped his fingers, disappointed. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” I nodded in agreement, then lifted my eyes up to his again with a small smirk. “But I know for a fact that I’ll remember something at, like, 1am and call you up to tell you about it.” Matt let out a chuckle at that, and I frowned in confusion.

“Sorry to break it to you, hon…” Matt replied slowly, testing out the new name on his tongue, making me blush, “but it’s 1:32am.”

My eyes widened at that. “No fucking way.”

“Way.”

“We’ve been here for, what,” I checked my watch, just to verify how long we’d been seated in the diner booth, “four and a half hours? And I still barely know anything about you!”

Matt chuckled. “We’ve gotta finish the list of ten things about you, first!”

“Not my fault you keep distracting me.”

I could hear the smile spreading across his face as he said, “I’m distracting, now, am I?”

“You are,” I admitted.

Matt narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin in feigned suspicion. “Interesting.”

“Okay,” I took a deep breath, pushing the conversation forward before I got too flustered and lost my train of thought once again. “So… Hawkins, Jonathan and El, D&D, books, my major, singing, alcohol, my father, Dustin–”

“Dustin doesn’t count,” Matt said.

“He does, too!” I insisted, letting a little bit of my inner child seep through the cracks of my adult persona.

“Fine,” Matt relented with a slight eye roll, “But only because I like you.”

Well, that was very forward of him. It wasn’t too out of pocket, given the fact that I’d literally made out with him not even ten minutes into knowing his name, but listening to a guy openly admitting his romantic feelings for me without any form of hesitation was something I had yet to get used to. I spent years hiding my own feelings, and Mike… fuck Mike. “I like you, too,” I told him, and I felt a sense of… accomplishment? This year’s Moving On Award recipient is… Will Byers, from Mike Wheeler to Matt Winters! Cue the fanfare, confetti, et cetera.

“… And that’s ten.”

“Really?” I shook my head in confusion. “What was ten?”

“That you’re into me.”

“Oh,” I said with a slight eye roll at my own stupidity, “Yeah. I guess that was ten things.”

“And that’s my number one. I like you,” he nudged my foot with his under the table with a smirk, “I have severe ADHD, I had a dog as a kid and named him Swayze— he was a pomeranian. I’m a senior material studies major because I can’t make decisions to save my life. I have a passion for writing and have this dream of writing and illustrating my own stories someday–”

“Woah, me too!” I interrupted, and Matt’s eyes lit up in surprise.

“No way, you write as well?”

How to Explain The Status of Your Co-Writing Relationship with Your Ex-Best Friend Who You Were in Unrequited but Not Actually Unrequited Love With, All Without Mentioning His Name for Dummies would’ve been pretty useful right about now. “Uh… no. I used to work on silly comic books with some of my old friends, but I only illustrated. Someone else did the writing.”

“Cool,” Matt nodded in approval.

“I have no idea what's gonna happen next. But, whatever it is, I... I think we should work together. I think it'll be easier if we're... we're a team. Friends. Best friends.”

“Cool.”

“So, uh—” Fuck, I hadn’t even realized I’d spaced out. “That was five, right?” Matt asked me, and I nodded, taking a sip of my Diet Coke. How long did I dissociate for? This hadn’t happened to me in months.

“My favorite subject back in high school was Home Economics,” he continued. “Frankly, I think the skills taught in that class helped me out in life way more than any trigonometric equation ever could. I smoke grass regularly, but hate cigarettes.” Now I had a valid reason to quit smoking. Not like I should’ve been smoking underage to begin with, but that was besides the point.

“I love virtually anything Stephen King, I’m a coffee connoisseur of sorts since I work at a café, and…” Matt leaned his elbow against the table and rested his head on his palm, deep in thought. “If I were to live anywhere in the world for the rest of my life, it would be Israel.”

I raised a quizzical eyebrow at that. “Why Israel?”

“I have some extended family there, in Tel-Aviv. I went to Jerusalem a few summers back, and… fuck, that city is beautiful. I’ve been there only once, but there’s something about exploring your religious heritage in the place it originated is so surreal.”

“Wait, you’re Jewish, too?”

“Yeah. I actually grew up in an Orthodox home, but my parents were really loose with the religious laws and shit. But when I came out as gay, I guess… all of the rules suddenly mattered. They cut me off, like, seven years ago,” Matt told me, pressing his knuckles into his palm one by one with his thumb. “Which, now that I think about it, I’m not sure if spending the rest of my life in Israel is the most logical idea I’ve ever had–”

“You said you’re a senior, right?” I asked. Matt nodded curtly. I did the mental math, and came to the conclusion that either I was horrible at simple subtraction, or… “You were cut off while you were a freshman in high school?”

“Yup.”

“Wow, I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for you. I’m so sorry.”

“Eh, I was better off,” Matt said with a resigned shrug. “I lived with my now-ex, Hayden, for the rest of high school. His parents were so supportive. It made me jealous sometimes. But they ended up being more influential on my life than my own parents had ever been capable of being.” As he spoke, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift to my own mom and dad. The opportunity to disown me was right there in front of them, and yet, they hadn’t thought twice about accepting me when I came out to them. I was glad that Matt at least had Hayden’s parents to lean on. That was, until they broke up. So did that mean that he didn’t have any family at all?

“I kind of don’t want to ask this because it sounds pretty fucking shallow in comparison to what you just told me, but… why’d you two break up?” I asked hesitantly. Matt dismissed my self-consciousness with a wave of his hand.

“You’re totally fine, it’s a valid question. I’m completely okay with sharing, too, if you’re worried about that.” It was like he was in my head. “I didn’t really want to break up with him, honestly. But he insisted that since he was going to Utah for college and I was going to Illinois, long distance wasn’t feasible. I just wanted him to be happy, and for us to end things on a high note, so… I let him go. After I did, though, I was so hesitant to get back into the dating scene. I couldn’t picture myself loving anyone else. He taught me what love was.”

I knew how that felt. I told him so, and he chuckled softly before resting his head on the palm of his hand. “We’re a lot alike, I think,” he said as he glanced up at me, sparkles dancing in the umber shade of his irises. “Aren’t we?” Damn, Matt knew how to make a man swoon. I was falling harder for him by the second, and I wasn’t in any kind of rush to slow down.

“I’d say so, yeah.”

“Good, I’m glad you agree,” Matt said. “Because for the first time in a long time, I can see further than a few days into my future.”

The rest of the night went by faster than either of us could believe. Once the sun had begun to rise, we’d left the diner and headed back into the city. Matt insisted on kissing me at every red light. For years, I’d held onto the belief that I wasn’t worthy of romantically-charged physical contact, yet here Matt was, openly willing to give it to me. So I happily obliged, because what the hell, I hadn’t received affection like this in my whole life.

Matt drove us to McKinley Park, and we walked around hand in hand for a little bit longer until both of us were yawning in the middle of every other sentence. We found a nearby bench and I checked my watch, and saw 08:43 flashing back at me. I turned to look at Matt, who was stifling yet another yawn, and I couldn’t help but giggle at the complete lunacy that was this twelve hour date.

“The exhaustion has finally caught up with us, huh?” I teased.

Matt exhaled, leaning his head against my shoulder. “Yeah…”

“I don’t want this to end, though,” I admitted.

Matt hummed into my tee shirt in with assent before muttering, “What if it didn’t have to?”

I shrugged, causing Matt to lift his head back up so our eyes could meet. “I don’t know what you’re alluding to,” I began, “but I’m still not sleeping with you–”

“I never said anything about that–”

“...Yet.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying, but I was planning on simply sleeping.” Matt smirked, continuing on with the comedic bit, despite my confession of being open to having sex with him in the future. “As in, a synonym of slumber, snoozing, s–”

He was being so adorable, I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached up to hold Matt’s face between my hands before pulling him in and firmly pressing our lips together. I felt him gasp against my mouth in surprise, and I realized then that I was the one initiating the kiss this time. And that felt fucking amazing.

“God, times were easier when those people kept their filth behind closed doors,” I heard a voice say from a few feet away. I let go of Matt and turned to see three men standing together in denim biker jackets in front of the bench we were sitting on.

“What did you just say?” I asked, moving to stand up.

“I said that the world was better off when fags like you weren’t shoving your ideologies down our throats,” I felt Matt tug on my arm as if to say No, don’t feed into it, they’re not worth it, but I was so beyond done with being mistreated that standing up to these idiots felt like a walk in the park… literally.

I approached the men and rested my hands on my hips, popping one out for added Gay Emphasis. “I know of another thing that I could shove down your throat, but I don’t think you’d like it all that much.” They stared back at me in stunned silence, but I wasn’t done with them yet. “So if I were you, I’d back the fuck off and mind your own business. I know a good lawyer.”

They didn’t need to be told twice; they immediately fled the scene, leaving me feeling satisfied and Matt shellshocked. I turned back to ask if he was okay, only to be grabbed by my biceps and pushed against a tree a few feet away. And suddenly Matt’s tongue was down my throat. It only lasted for a second before he pulled away, his eyes wild. “That was so hot. Will,” he whispered, reaching up to hold my face in his hands. “That was so fucking hot, c’mere–” I let out a giggle as Matt kissed my neck once, twice, and then moved back to my lips, swallowing the moan that escaped my throat. It hit me then that we were still in public.

“Okay, okay,” I lightly pushed him away, much to both of our disappointment. “Let’s go before we actually get hate crimed.”

I opened my eyes to a popcorn ceiling. I despised popcorn ceilings. I bolted upright, processing this unfamiliar room in a slight panic. When I was met with red walls and a poster of the album “Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me,” by The Cure, I remembered where I was; Matt and I had gone back to his house after spending twelve hours together. I was in his bed, and he wasn’t there with me. He really had been serious about respecting my wishes, and took the couch.

I flopped down onto my back and turned my head so my cheek rested on the pillow I’d slept on. I breathed in and could immediately identify Matt’s scent; pine and a faint hint of lavender dryer sheets. God, yesterday was a whirlwind. And to think it all started with Shaggy and Dracula.

I turned my head to look out the window to see that the sun was almost set. I’d slept through the entire day. My sleep schedule was definitely going to be fucked up for a while. Honestly, though, if I had to choose a twelve hour date with Matt Winters or a healthy circadian rhythm, I’d choose Matt. There was no doubt about it; I’d fallen hard, and fallen fast.

After letting myself wake up a little more, I pushed myself off of the mattress and wandered out of Matt’s room, down the hall, and into the living room, where Matt was still asleep, a little bit of drool puddling on the decorative pillow below his head. He was an adorable sleeper. As if he could hear my thoughts, Matt’s eyelids fluttered open slowly and I was greeted with a shy smile.

“Mornin’” Matt rasped out.

“Try evening,” I replied with a low chuckle.

Matt stood up from his spot on the couch and made his way over to me, lifting a hand to push a piece of hair out of my face and behind my ear. “Did you have a nice sleep?”

“Yeah,” I said. Matt intertwined his free hand with mine.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked me. I nodded in lieu of a response, and then I was being pulled in and kissed like Matt’s life depended on it. I was so happy. I was so damn happy that I started smiling into our kiss, effectively breaking it. I looked up at Matt to notice that he was grinning as well, and we broke into a fit of giggles before leaning into each other again and falling, falling, falling… right into Matt’s bed.

“This is getting awfully hot and heavy” Matt muttered against my lips, and I groped his ass as he hovered over me.

“Yeah,” I agreed with half my mind turned to putty, and he grinded down against me, eliciting a moan from the both of us, “It is.”

“You wanna stop?” Matt asked, and I pulled away, thinking I’d made him feel uncomfortable. He must have seen the worry on my face, and was quick to reassure me otherwise with a light peck to my lips. “I mean, I don’t want to stop, but… I want to respect your boundaries. I won’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”

“Matt,” I said, relishing in the sound of his breath hitching following my mention of his name, “I’ve never felt this way about a guy in my life. It’s a crime that we just met a little less than twenty four hours ago.”

With a surge of bravado I didn’t know I even had, I flipped us over with a grunt so I was the one on top, bracketing Matt in between my arms. He looked up at me in a haze, his eyes filled with pure lust.

“So I say fuck it.”

I’d just gotten back from Painting I, where Miriam had made the announcement that The Heart had been selected for a display in the lobby of the Admissions office building. I was glad that others were able to find joy in the piece I’d spent hours upon hours in emotional turmoil over. After class, I headed back to my dorm and called Lucas. We’d started up a routine of calling once a week, if not every two weeks. Dustin and I spoke a little less frequently, but we thankfully had that kind of friendship where we could go a while without talking and pick up right where we left off. El and I spoke almost daily. I heard the ringback tone go through a few times before Lucas picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey Lucas, it’s Will,” I said.

“Hey, man! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright, you?”

“Same here, pushing through,” I heard the sound of a door slamming in the background. “Oh, hey babe, Will’s on the phone if you wanna say hi! Max just got in from PT.”

“Give me the phone, stalker,” I heard Max say, and I smiled as I heard the phone shuffling between their hands. “William. My dear.”

“You let her call you William?” Lucas shouted from a distance. “You never let me call you William.”

“You don’t let me call you Lukey Poo,” I replied, and I heard Lucas tut in disappointment.

“There’s a huge difference between the connotations of William versus Lukey Poo. I’m gonna let you decide which one is degrading.”

“Touché.”

“So how are you?” Max asked me.

“I’m good.”

“Woah,” Lucas complained, “so with me you’re just alright, but with Max, you’re good?”

“Same thing.”

“Barely.”

“I’m alrood,” I laughed, leaning back onto my comforter. “Or galright.”

“God, you sound like Dustin,” Lucas huffed. He wasn’t… not right about that. “Wait, I’m gonna dial him in, hold on.” There was a brief silence, followed by–

“Lukey Poo! My brother!”

“For God’s sake, not you, too.”

“God is dead, Luc-ass Puke-Ass.”

“Brutal! Will, help me out here.”

“Will? You’re in Cali?”

“Nope, still in Chicago. Hey, Dusty Bun.”

“Would you look at that, the Party’s back together again!” Lucas exclaimed. “Well… minus Mike, of course.”

“And El,” Max added.

“Yeah, and El,” Dustin repeated. “How is she, by the way?” Classic Dustin, always asking about El. Maybe Mike had been right in Letter #24 when he mentioned the possible chemistry between those two.

“She’s good,” I replied. “The program she’s in at Vanderbilt is kicking her ass, but she’s kicking theirs right back.”

“Oh yeah, I bet,” Dustin gushed. “She’s so determined and committed, though, so I believe it.”

“Yeah,” Max agreed.

“Has anyone heard from Mike?” Dustin asked, and I felt my mouth go dry.

“No, he hasn’t picked up any of my calls this month,” Lucas said.

“Mine either,” Dustin sighed. “Will, have you tried calling him?”

Friends don’t lie. “No.”

“Why not?”

Why would I was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit it at the last second, opting to reply with, “I think he’s just busy, guys. I heard the writing program at U of Indy was pretty rigorous.”

“For a kindergartner, maybe!” Lucas snorted. ”Plus, Mike’s always been some sort of prolific author prodigy! It should be a piece of cake for him!”

“Right?” Dustin grumbled. “I’m so confused. He just… vanished out of our lives.”

“Will, what if you tried calling him?” Lucas asked me hesitantly before adding, “He’s always had a thing for you.”

“What?” I shot up into a sitting position, unable to comprehend what I had just heard.

“Yeah, I gotta admit, buddy, you lost me there, too,” Dustin said.

“I just mean he’d probably pick up if he knew it was you,” Lucas explained, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “You and Mike have always been closer with each other compared to the rest of us.”

I exhaled extra heavily, hoping they’d pick up on my reluctance to do what was being asked of me. “I don’t know.”

“I sense some tension,” Dustin remarked. I could see his wiggling eyebrows from all eight hundred and forty-nine miles away. “What are you not telling us?”

“Nothing! Just–” I cut myself off with a groan. “Fine. I’ll call him. But I’m telling you guys now that he’ll probably be like this with me too.” They were completely fine with that. Of course they were. Because they loved to see me suffer, apparently.

We ended the call about half an hour later, and I found myself still sitting on my bed with the receiver in my hand. Was I really debating upon whether or not I should call Mike? Yup. Was it a bad idea? Probably. Was I going to follow through with it? That remained to be seen.

“To call or not to call,” I whispered to myself, “That is the question.” Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing, end them. To die.

No. I couldn’t do it. Not yet.

Midterms came and went, and suddenly, it was Thanksgiving break. Matt and Riley had invited the rest of our D&D Party to spend Friendsgiving at their house, but I had to decline. I knew that if I didn’t come home for the holidays, I would never hear the end of it from my family and friends back in Hawkins.

I had yet to tell my family about Matt. It wasn’t like I was intentionally withholding the information from them. I was just so busy between finishing The Heart, organizing D&D campaigns with Kate, and making out with my boyfriend that when I did have time to talk to my family, the conversation was pretty surface-level. But now that we were all in the dining room together, digging into Mom’s kick-ass mashed potatoes, I’d figured that this would be a good time to bite the bullet.

“Guys… I have some news. It’s, uh… it’s pretty important.”

The sound of everyone’s forks on their plates stopped mid-scrape. I took a shaky breath. This wouldn’t be too difficult; coming out was the worst of it, but I was still anxious as to how everyone would take the news that I was actually dating a boy.

“What about, sweetie?” Mom asked.

“So… I might have a boyfriend.”

“Might?” Dad grumbled, stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork. “So, what, you have half a boyfriend?”

Mom scoffed. “Hopper, for Christ’s sake–”

“We’re Jewish, Joyce.”

“For Christ’s sake–”

“Mom! Dad! Let him talk,” El cut Mom and Dad off, nodding at me to continue. “You were saying?”

“I have a whole boyfriend,” I playfully rolled my eyes. “We’ve been dating since the beginning of this month.”

“I’m very happy for you, Will. You deserve this,” my brother said in earnest, and I tried not to get choked up. He’d really been there for it all, hadn’t he? He’d seen me fall in love for the first time, and helped me through all of the grief and heartbreak that followed.

“Thanks, Jon.”

“So what’s this boy’s name?” Dad asked.

“Matt Winters.”

“Matt Winters,” El repeated, her eyebrows furrowing as she processed this new information. She shifted her gaze back up to me. “And you like him?”

“Um… I wouldn’t be dating him if I didn’t like him.”

“So why didn’t you invite him here for Thanksgiving?” Mom asked, looking almost offended if it weren’t for the wide smile on her face. “You know we have no problem with hosting guests!”

“Yeah, I know. That’s not the reason why I didn’t invite him, though,” I grimaced. How could I explain that Matt wasn’t anything like Mike, and that I wasn’t sure how they’d react to me dating someone new? How could I explain that I still wasn't exactly completely over Mike yet, and taking Matt home to Hawkins with me would have felt a little bit too… soon for me?

“I don’t know,” I continued, “I… I just… I want to make sure the guy I bring home for holidays is someone I’m one hundred percent serious about. And I’ve only been dating him for, like, less than a month, not to mention he’s my first boyfriend ever! Cut me some slack!”

“So I guess you could say that this Matt is out of your… Wheelhouse,” Jonathan muttered, and El snorted. He just had to go there, didn’t he?

“Hmm,” Dad stroked his beard in thought. “I wonder if that tall glass of water of yours is back in town yet.”

“No, please, not this again,” I whined, putting my head in my hands as discussion about Mike Wheeler broke out at the dinner table. This had been a common occurrence throughout all of high school. Everyone in my family had convinced themselves that Mike reciprocated my feelings, and that we would eventually get together.

El and Jon teased me endlessly whenever I came home from Mike’s place, and forced me to recount every single second we’d spent together. Mom was a meddler; she’d always find ways to get Mike over to our house for family meals, and made it a point to emphasize the word family with the implication that he was a part of it. When Mike asked me to senior prom, that was the icing on the cake for Dad; I think he even made a chart after that. Dad was both my biggest cheerleader and my biggest comfort, especially when I told him about what happened after I found the letters.

But that chapter was over.

I cleared my throat, and everyone stopped talking, turning to face me. “Matt is really great, guys,” I said in a low voice. “And yeah, he’s not Mike, but… at least give him a chance, will you? I’ll bring him home during Spring Break, and you guys can meet him then.”

The fall semester had finally come to an end, and of course, we had to party about it. Matt had arrived at my dorm room to pick me up, and when Aaron noticed us kissing in the doorway, he had more than a few choice words to say to and about us. I’d played it off like I usually did, claiming it wasn’t a huge deal, but I had been dealing with Aaron’s bullshit for months now. It was like he was an ice pick, chipping away at my soul as if to say, “Let’s see how much verbal abuse Will can take before he shatters!” This was the breaking point for me. So when we got to the party, I drank. And drank. And drank.

I’d somehow lost track of Matt’s whereabouts, and found myself standing in an alley next to the building where the party was going on. There was a payphone stationed near the entrance of the alley, so I decided to take a little trip there and use the rest of my spare change to make a phone call.

“Hello?”

Was that Mom? Holy shit, it was Mom! I knew she was small, but I didn’t know she could fit into a pay phone! How did she know I was there?!

Oh, wait, I thought, I called her. She isn’t actually inside the pay phone, idiot… Why did I call her again?

“Hello?” I heard her ask again. Fuck, I already forgot she was on the phone.

“Mooooom. Mommy. Hi,” I slurred, leaning against the wall. I thought right then that I’d have been perfectly content melting directly into the concrete.

“Will,” Mom said, her voice getting all hushed and concerned, “Are you okay?”

“Yup!” I proclaimed to the empty alley. My voice echoed all the way down to the other end. “I’m faaaaantastic. Just a lil’ drunk, though.”

“I can hear that, honey.”

“Is Dad there?” I asked, wrapping the metal cord around my wrist. I briefly considered what it would be like if I ever decided to introduce handcuffs into mine and Matt’s sex life, and I swore I gave myself heart palpitations just by thinking about it.

“Dad is passed out on the couch and snoring like a trucker,” Mom replied, pulling me out of my filthy, filthy thoughts. “Why? Do you want to talk with him?”

“No,” I shook my head, looking around to make sure I wasn’t holding up a line or something. I most definitely wasn’t. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t… I don’t know, ruin your night or something. Fridays are usually your movie nights.”

“Oh, we already watched our movie a few hours ago, some easily forgettable rom-com.” I could hear my mom’s smile as she spoke. I loved seeing my mom so happy ever since she married Dad. It was like she’d been brought back to life. “Now I’m just reading in the big blue arm chair, and so it’s just you and me.”

“Perfect,” I said, turning around and leaning my forehead against the brick and mortar in front of me, “Cuzzz I gotta-lotta-say.”

“... You sure you’re okay?” Mom asked, and I hummed in substitution of a “yes.”

“I’m suuurrreee,” I closed my eyes and grinned at the sound of my drawn-out syllables, but they snapped open again at the memory of standing in my old living room being yelled at by a very similarly-sounding drunken voice. “An’ I promise ‘mnot an alcoholic. I don’t wannanduhlidah,” I said, and lifted my hand up, extending my index finger to emphasize my point. I heard my mom lightly snicker on the other end of the line.

“Can you repeat that?” she asked me. “I’m having a little bit of a hard time understanding you.” Fuck. I must have been really drunk for her to not have understood me. God, I really was turning into my–

“Hmm… d’ya think I’ll end up like Lonnie?”

“Baby, are you kidding me? You are nothing like Lonnie.”

“He usedta drink a lot. A looooootttttt. Remem…emm…mer? An’ he alwaysssaid I’ll never be a man. He called me a fairy. A fa—“ I felt my voice crack as emotions took over my psyche, and I silently cursed myself for still crying over my dad over a decade later.

“Will. I want to make myself very clear,” my mom told me, and I stood up a bit straighter. Unlike me. “He’s less than half the man that you are. You are an incredible, talented, sweet young man. Being gay doesn’t negate any of the great qualities you have.”

“I’m a teeerrrible person,” I said, and mouthed along with my mom’s predictable reply.

“You are not a terrible person.”

“But what about what I did to Mike?” I whined.

“You did what you needed to do to protect yourself, baby. He’ll understand that eventually.”

“But what if I made a misssTAKE?”

“Only time will tell. It’s never too late to call him.”

“Yeah.” I looked up and noticed that at one point or another, Matt had joined me in the alley. How much of the conversation had he heard? Hopefully not too much. “Hey, mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, honey,” Mom replied. “Now make sure to go hydrate. Stay safe, okay?”

I nodded, realized that she couldn’t see me nodding, and provided verbal confirmation this time around with an, “Okie. Byeeeee.” I was so drunk. I hung up before turning to face my boyfriend. “Hey, babe,” I greeted him with a shit eating grin on my face. He was so so cute. Adorable. Gorgeous. Hot. Sexy. Edible. “Where have you been? You having a good time?”

“I’ve spent the past fifteen or so minutes looking for you!” Matt said, scuffing the soles of his Converse against the gravel that lined the sides of the alley. “Was that actually your mom?”

Well, duh, I thought. Who else would I call ‘mom’? Well, besides Steve, obviously. “Yeah! She said to say hi to you for her, by the way.” That was a total lie, but it would keep the tone light.

Or so I thought, because Matt had one more question for me. It was the one question that I’d been dreading ever since we’d started dating. “Who’s Mike?”

I was way too intoxicated to have this conversation right now. I met Matt’s eyes for a second, shook my head and battled my way through a choked, “We used to be friends. But he’s dead to me now. You have nothing to worry about,” before keeling over and violently throwing up onto the ground.

“Alright, sweetheart, we’ve gotta get you back to the dorms. You’re absolutely wasted,” Matt coaxed me to stand up and threw one of my arms around his shoulders. “You mind if I ask Pete for backup? I don’t think I can get you home by myself.”

“You calling me fat, Winters?”

“I think we both know they don’t call you Buff Byers ‘cause you’re fat, Will.”

“Waiiit a minute, who told you about the Buff Byers thing?”

“I have my sources.”

A few minutes later, we’d successfully located Pete within the sea of people he’d been dancing with, and we had to bribe him with twenty dollars to get him to leave the party and help us out. We said goodbye to everyone else on our way out, but right before we reached the door, I recognized the song blasting from the PA system and shouted, “I fucking love this song!” The song in question was “There is a Light That Never Goes Out,” by The Smiths. I happily drawled along with the lyrics to the song as my friend and boyfriend practically carried me down the street and back to the dorms. The singing didn’t stop when we reached my dorm hall, or when they dragged me up the stairs, or even when they fished through my pockets for a solid five minutes, trying to find my keys to let us in.

“And if a tennn tonnn truuuck… kills the both of us… To die by your siiide, well, the pleasure, the privilege is miiine,” I murmured the last chorus, getting a bit emotional as I watched Matt take off my Vans and help me into bed. He was too kind to me. I didn’t deserve it.

“Vecna would’ve had a field day with you…” I sighed, which resulted in a confused chuckle from my boyfriend. My sweet, sweet boyfriend who had no idea about what I’d been through, or the damage I was capable of. So much for my NDAs. I could just blame it on the alcohol if he asked about it later. Matt tucked me in under my comforter, brushing my bangs off my forehead and pressing a kiss there.

“Alright, lover boy, sleep tight.”

I was in the passenger seat of a car, and the road was dark, save for the headlights that lit the road in front of me. I looked down at my hand, which was being held by a very familiar and large hand. My eyes lifted up to see Mike in the driver’s seat, tapping the steering wheel with his fingers to the beat of some synth pop song that was playing out of his car radio.

“Mike?” A smile graced his features as I said his name. He didn’t take his eyes off the road as he rubbed a thumb over the top of my hand. What the hell?

“Yeah, baby?” This was pure insanity. There was no way he’d actually called me–

“... Baby?”

“What is it, love?” Mike replied so casually that I wanted to scream. But I pushed my emotions back down, settling back into the passenger seat and pretending like this was a totally normal occurrence.

“... Nothing,” I muttered, the fingers of my right hand picking at one of the rips on the knee of my jeans. “It’s just…”

“Will, we’ve been together for, what, five years now. Don’t tell me you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘baby.’”

Five years. Jesus Christ. “No. No, you’re fine,” I said.

“Good,” Mike grinned before bringing our joined hands to his lips to kiss the back of my hand. “I love you.” My head was spinning.

“I love you, too,” I heard myself say without even thinking about it. Okay, this is officially a dream, I thought. This is way too good to be true.

We continued on down the seemingly endless road for a few more miles before I spoke up again. “So… where are we going?”

“Heaven,” Mike replied.

“You’re funny,” I deadpanned, “No, really, where are we going?”

“Heaven,” Mike repeated. I felt a little bit guilty when I found myself staring at this dream version of Mike, trying my best to commit him to memory. “I mean it, Will. To die by your side… it’d be such a heavenly way to die.” That sounded familiar. Where was that line from again?

“Wait, what?” I asked, but before Mike could clarify, he was pressing his foot as hard as he possibly could onto the gas pedal, accelerating until the speedometer was essentially useless. Within seconds, he’d sent the car plummeting off the edge of the— cliff??— we’d been driving alongside the entire time.

The car flipped with a likeness to an Olympic gymnast, and I heard the sound of bones cracking above the faint background music that was still playing. I’d always wondered about that kind of scenario– if someone got into a fatal car accident; would the music continue to play? Apparently so, considering that the song “Stayin’ Alive,” by the Bee Gees was still playing. That song should never be played in a car for this exact reason; the irony is simply too cruel.

The car eventually gave up on trying to be a flying trapeze artist and settled in a diagonal position with the wheels in the air. Smoke from the undercarriage of the car traveled through the air vents and filled my lungs, and I struggled to breathe. But I didn’t even care; I had to check on Mike, see if he was okay.

He was not. I turned to my left side, and screamed in horror at the sight of Mike’s bloodied, mangled body sprawled across the dashboard, broken glass pricking his bare arms. Wait… there was no way his arm could be way over there and still be– oh my god. Mike’s arm. It had been ripped off his body. Holy shit. Mike’s arm was–

“Mike,” I forced out amidst my heaving breaths. “Michael, can you hear me?” I reached out and smacked him in the face in an attempt to wake him up. Please don’t be dead. “Michael James, if you don’t fucking respond to me right now I’m gonna–”

“Relax, Will. I’m still here.” Using his middle name always did work like a charm.

I let out a high-pitched sob in relief. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Mike said quietly, his own breathing labored. He glanced down at his arm and whispered something along the lines of Would you look at that, my arm is gone, but I couldn’t exactly tell; his speech was starting to sound garbled, as if he was choking on blood. He coughed a bit out, and I watched it dribble down his chin, proving my hypothesis correct. He was going to die without immediate medical attention.

“Come on, let me–” I went to undo my seatbelt, but realized that my limbs had stopped working. “... I can’t move,” It was most likely a severed spinal cord. “Mike, I can’t move.” I couldn’t move, and the last time I’d ever touched Mike was in the form of a slap in the face.

“Me neither, baby,” Mike laughed. His arm was quite literally torn off his body, yet he still found the will within himself to laugh. Maybe he was in shock, and the adrenaline had numbed his pain receptors. I wasn’t sure. But what I was sure of was that this dream needed to end. It was getting a bit too real.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, Mike! We’re gonna fucking die out here if someone–”

“Shh. We’re okay,” Mike whispered, closing his eyes as he spoke. “We’ve got each other, right?” Crazy together. Deranged together. Batshit insane together.

Dead together.

“...Right,” I shut my own eyes, but was only able to for about two seconds before Mike was hacking up blood. I watched as it splattered across the surface of the shattered windshield. “We’re really gonna die, huh?”

“All that matters is that I’m dying with the love of my life by my side,” Mike muttered, all of the color slowly draining out of his face. “The pleasure– no, the privilege– is mine.” I watched his head loll to the side as the blood loss and lack of oxygen to his brain caused his heart to stop beating.

I was startled by the sound of someone gasping, and paused when I realized that the sound was coming from me. I tried to catch my breath, lifting a hand to my heart to try and ground myself with my heartbeat. I felt the familiar sensation of tears pricking the corners of my eyes, and I shut them tightly, hoping the image of Mike’s severed arm would eventually fade.

“You okay?” I heard from across the room, and I squinted my eyes to see my roommate sitting up in bed. Why did he care? He hated me. He’d aimed slurs at me all the way down the hallway when Matt had come to pick me up for the party earlier. What changed?

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, thanks,” I forced out, turning away from him and facing the front of my body towards the wall. I just needed to think of a good memory and play it out on a loop in my head to fall back asleep. I’d done it before.

A strong hand belonging to Aaron met my shoulder, and I gasped at the sudden contact. How had he gotten over to my side so quietly? Why was he over here at all? Why was he touching me like that? “You don’t sound fine,” Aaron whispered, his mouth close enough to my neck that the tendrils at the nape stood straight up. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach; something felt wrong. “No, really, I’m fi–”

Before I could even process what was happening, his hand shifted down my arm and firmly grasped my wrist. “What are you doing? Stop it,” I told him, and shook my arm in an attempt to get him off of me, but that only ignited something in him, because he pushed me from where I’d been laying on my side and onto my stomach, straddling me and holding me down. “Please stop. Please stop. Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop–”

He grabbed my other wrist and held both of them in one of his hands, as he forced my head into my pillow by my neck with the other to shut me up. He leaned down so his nose was buried in my hair, and I writhed in his grip as he inhaled. “I can make you feel better, Will,” he ghosted his lips over my ear. “Just stay quiet, and we won’t have any problems.” This could not be happening. It had to be another nightmare.

But I already knew the truth; I was wide awake.

The next few weeks were a blur. Aaron left and hadn’t come back after he raped me that night. I didn’t leave my room. I bailed on my date night with Matt over the weekend. He asked me over the phone at one point if I was planning on returning home for Hanukkah, and I glanced at my calendar for a moment of contemplation, noticing that the first two days had already passed before giving him a halfhearted, “Nah. I’ve already missed the first two days, and wouldn’t be able to catch up. I’m just gonna… stay here, I guess.”

That was a horrible idea, because the next thing I knew, my mother was in my dorm room, the expression on her face reading as a combination of disappointment and worry. “Hi, Mom,” I greeted her in a weak voice, and she merely shook her head, stomping over to my bed and whipping out a fucking stethoscope from her purse– courtesy of Owens, I assumed.

Despite my protests of being fine, she pressed her hand to my forehead before pressing the stethoscope to my heart, then to my back to hear my lungs. She dropped the stethoscope back into her purse and squeezed both of my shoulders, her eyebrows nearly becoming one with how hard she was frowning. “William Jacob Byers, you tell me what’s going on right now. Skipping Hanukkah without any call or explanation?!” I was in deep shit. She helped me pack up my things and drove us back to Hawkins that same day.

I didn’t tell my mom exactly what had happened, but did confess that I had been in a depressive state of being for the past few weeks following something traumatic that happened to me. Thankfully, she didn’t press me in regards to the topic of said trauma, but instead made an appointment with my old Upside Down therapist, Judith. I went to see her the day after I got home. Judith was a great therapist. I was so often the listener in my day-to-day life, but she took the approach of “you talk, I nod and give advice when you want it,” so it felt great to have the opportunity to rant about my problems and get validation from a sweet elderly lady who wore her own hand-knitted sweaters.

When I told Judith about what had happened with Aaron, she’d asked me if I told my family or Matt about it. I said no, I hadn’t. She asked why, and I admitted I was just afraid of my family becoming overbearing like they had been when I was a kid, and I was terrified of losing Matt over something I hadn’t been able to control. She suggested that if I couldn’t tell my family, I should at least tell my boyfriend when I was ready, as it wasn’t fair to him to continuously cancel our plans and keep him in the dark. I thought back to the last time we spoke, where he’d expressed feeling like he’d done something wrong when he hadn’t done anything wrong at all.

My mom had also managed to arrange weekly sessions over the phone for when I went back to Chicago. Recovery isn’t linear, as Judith often said. She was right. And in order to begin recovery, I needed to take that first step. So I spoke with Matt on the phone that night. He confessed to having called my mom, and was surprised when I wasn’t angry about it. I actually thanked him, because if it weren’t for my mom, I probably would’ve still been rotting away in my bed back in Chicago. When he asked me why I was depressed, I broke down crying at first, but found enough strength in myself to tell him the truth about what Aaron had done to me.

“I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” he’d said. “And as soon as you get back, we’re going to move you into my place. Riley’s moving Kate in after break, too. But you cannot go back to living with that asshole.”

Right before we ended the call, I wrote his phone number and address information down on a post-it. “I’ll see you in a few weeks,” Matt had told me. “I love you.”

“Bye,” I whispered, hanging the phone back up on the wall.

I prayed to whatever higher powers existed that my friends would just fucking give up already on trying to get Mike to hang out with us. For the past few months, the Party had been updating me on Mike’s whereabouts– or lack thereof– as he’d essentially fallen off the grid. I wasn’t particularly surprised, because I understood why he cut me off, but then again, why had everyone else been lumped in with me on Mike’s Do Not Interact list?

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked hesitantly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Max countered, looking up from her and El’s joined hands, where she’d been painting El’s nails a shade of deep purple. I shrugged, not sure how to go about explaining why I was discouraging them from contacting our…. no, their friend.

“I don’t know,” I muttered, glancing back down at my sketchbook, where Mike’s left eye had begun to take shape on the page. I resisted the urge to cringe at myself. “Just… don’t expect much from him.”

“Believe me, man, I know,” Lucas said, slumping down entirely too forcefully onto the couch next to me with his cordless phone in his lap. “He never calls any of us anymore, we’re always the ones who have to reach out to him.”

“Which is why we’re calling him now,” Dustin reiterated the same sentiment that he’d been mulling over for the past half hour, pacing all the while. “We’re useless to Mike if we don’t at least try.”

“Okayyy,” I shrugged all of their ignorantly charged hope off my shoulders. “But as long as I’m in the picture, you won’t have any luck getting him into the same room with us. So don’t say I didn’t warn you when he declines.”

“What happened between you two, anyway?” Dustin stopped pacing and adjusted his MIT hat. I really hoped his new Thinking Cap™ was… faulty, or something, so he wouldn’t have any chance of figuring out the truth.

“Nothi–” I began, but El started talking at the same time as me, leaving me unable to keep her from saying:

“He and Will had a falling out.”

“El, for fuck’s sake, oh my–” I slapped a palm to my forehead in a combination of embarrassment and frustration. This was not how I’d wanted the Party to find out about this… in fact, I would’ve been completely content if they never found out at all and if Mike just… if he’d just… stayed away. I gulped at that sobering— and borderline concerning— thought.

“Over what? When? How? Spill!”” Dustin appeared in front of me, shaking my shoulders. He hesitated for a moment, gripping my shoulders a little tighter, and then letting go altogether before… petting my arms? I heard Lucas huff a laugh through his nose as he began dialing Mike’s number, which I subconsciously recited in my head as he pressed each key.

“On a completely different note,” Dustin retreated back to the bowl of Cool Ranch Doritos on Lucas’ kitchen table, “you have got to explain when and how you got so muscular! You’re, like, hot. You should go into, like, a bodybuilding competition. I’d vote for you.” El and Max burst out laughing. I shielded my face with my hand, a mild embarrassment quickly consuming me.

“Everyone shut up, I’m putting him on speaker,” Lucas announced, and I sighed, grateful that the conversation had officially been diverted away from The Fight. Not like my body composition was a better topic by any means, but I’d take what I could get.

“Hello?” Mrs. Wheeler’s voice came through on the other end of the line. I’d forgotten that Mike shared a single landline with his family, insisting that our walkies were immortal. Spoiler alert: No, they were not; they eventually died permanently back in 1988, rest their souls. May their memory be for a blessing.

“Hey Mrs. Wheeler, it’s Lucas. How are you?”

“Oh, Lucas! I’m doing okay, sweetie, thank you for asking! How’s… UCLA, right?”

“You remembered! I'm busy all the time, but it’s going well, Mrs. W.,” Lucas grinned. Max rolled her eyes as she muttered a quiet, “Kiss ass.”

“Well, I’m sure you didn’t call here to talk to your friend’s mom, so I’ll get Mike for you. One second,” she chuckled to herself. There was a brief moment of silence, and then–

“MICHAEL!” Mrs. Wheeler’s screeching voice came through clear as a bell, and the rest of us had to hold in our laughter. “LUCAS IS ON THE PHONE!” She’d accidentally covered the wrong end of the receiver. We heard the low thump of footsteps down the stairs, a bit of shuffling as the phone changed hands, and a quiet thanks, mom before–

“Hello?”

And suddenly, I couldn’t feel a thing. Fuck.

“Mike!”

“It’s been ages, bro!”

“Where have you been?”

“... Heeeyyy guys,” the all too familiar voice of Mike Wheeler came through the speaker, and I had to refrain from curling up on the floor and melting into a puddle of tears. I forgot how much I missed his voice. However, it sounded slightly hoarse, probably due to talking to the point of overuse, or having just woken up… at four in the afternoon? No, overuse sounded more reasonable; Mike had never been a quiet person. Shutting the fuck up simply wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“It’s good to hear you’re alive and well, man,” Lucas said.

I think I was the only one who made out the sarcasm-laced laugh on Mike’s end: “Hmmh… yeah. So… what’s up?”

“Your dick,” Matt’s voice offered up in my head. I shoved my boyfriend’s vulgar humor into the furthest corner of my mind, because the last thing I needed to think about right now was Mike’s dick. Not like I’d thought about it prior to this. Well… not very often.

“We’re hanging out at my place right now, and we wanted to see if you feel like making the trek across the vast expanse of our lawns to join us!” Lucas replied.

There was a moment of silence on Mike’s end, followed by a shaky exhale. “... Is he gonna be there?”

Lucas furrowed his eyebrows. “Who?”

“I think you know who I mean, Lucas.” I pointed at myself with a look that screamed I told you so, and Lucas’ eyes widened dramatically at the realization that I was, in fact, right. Mike wanted nothing to do with me.

“... Yeah,” he said in a low voice with a likeness to a confession, not once breaking eye contact with me. I was not going to be let out of this one easily.

“Yeah no, I’ll pass. Thanks, though.”

“Are you s—” Lucas began to protest.

“Bye, guys,” Mike cut him off before promptly hanging up, leaving everyone else’s jaws on the floor. And then… all eyes on me. Understandably.

“He’s been like this since August,” Dustin was the one to start talking. He looked rather accusatory as his eyes narrowed, and I felt my stomach fall out of my ass. “So… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.”

“Hey!” I put my hands up, “What makes you think I was the one who did something?!”

“Y-yeah,” Lucas added on, “like, maybe Mike did something to… I don’t know. Whatever happened between you two, though, it’s made him really distant. I think something is seriously wrong.” I suddenly felt the air in the Sinclairs’ living room run cold, and… looked up to see Max adjusting the thermostat. I would never get used to the concept of central air, even after having it in my own house for years.

“What do you mean?” El asked, her voice quiet.

“Okay, for instance, you know how Mike’s a talker?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, that Mike is gone, because phone conversations between us never make it past three and a half minutes,” Lucas said, his eyes trained on the floor as he spoke. “It’s all hey bro, how are you doing, good, good, how’s school, great, I’m busy actually, can I call you at some other point and we can catch up, yeah sure talk soon. The end. And then he never calls me back.”

“Yeah, he’s been short with me, too,” Dustin added. “And that’s saying something, because that man is a fucking skyscraper.”

“You must know something, Will,” Max said from where she stood, returning the focus of the conversation back onto me. Honestly, I was starting to get a bit frustrated. I’d obviously played a pretty large role in Mike’s downward spiral, and it was eating away at me with every new second that passed. But at the same time, I thought my friends would take the news of our falling out as a sign to not press me about him.

“I really don’t, actually,” I replied, “and I’m kind of confused as to why this is my problem.”

“Woah, Will, calm down, I didn’t mean to make you get defensive,” Max said, her eyes wide, probably surprised at my blatant apathy to the situation. “It’s just that you two were so close for years, and I thought… I thought maybe you were just trying to protect him, or something.”

That was fair. “Right,” I whispered, and closed my eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry for snapping. I’m just–” I opened my eyes back up, “I’m tired of talking about Mike. He’s not gonna change, so why are we still trying?” I was nervous for a moment that I’d pushed a bit too hard attempting to move on from the current conversation, but was relieved when everyone nodded in agreement.

“That’s a very good point,” Lucas said. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Yeah, let’s change the subject…” El trailed off, sending a mischievous smirk my way. “Will got a boyfriend.”

I was going to murder my sister. I knew she meant well, but… I was going to murder her.

“Boyfriend?!” everyone shouted at the same time, shock spreading like wildfire across their faces. I nodded, and then the questions started hitting.

“What’s his name?”

“Where’s he from?”

“What is he majoring in?”

“We need details, Byers! Details!”

“Matt Winters, yes, the initials are purely coincidental, Winston-Salem North Carolina, and he’s a senior material studies major.”

“And he treats you well?” Lucas asked, and I turned to face him, pulling my sketchbook closer to my chest.

“More than well,” I replied earnestly. “He’s… he’s incredible, honestly. He’s sweet, he’s talented, he’s affectionate, he’s out of the closet…” Unlike someone else I knew. But they didn’t have to know that.

I didn’t need to continue listing adjectives for much longer, because my friends’ previously unison bumbling split into two separate subconversations. I heard Lucas and Max bickering about how Lucas never said things like that about Max and it’s a wonder she hadn’t dumped his ass for the fourteenth time by now; Lucas rebutted with the fact that all their friends knew her already and therefore didn’t need Lucas to elaborate upon her best qualities. Dustin turned to El and nudged her with his elbow. She turned to him, giving her full attention as he muttered quietly, but not quiet enough to the point that I couldn’t overhear, “Mike’s gonna be pissed.” I watched my sister take in this information before she nodded with a tight grimace.

Mike’s gonna be pissed.

I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t been aware that I’d been holding, and looked down at my hands, which had somehow become fists in my lap. Mike’s gonna be pissed. But I was finally happy. I had Matt, and he was a better boyfriend than I could have ever asked for. Mike’s gonna be pissed. So what? He messed with my head, he deserved it. Mike’s gonna be pissed.

“Hey, um, I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” I said to no one in particular, and ignored everyone’s suddenly concerned voices as they faded into background noise. I closed the bathroom door a bit harder than necessary, and put a hand over my mouth as I began to hyperventilate. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed.

I leaned forward and vomited into the toilet.

I mounted my bike and knocked the kickstand up with my foot, leaning my weight onto the right pedal as I biked down the empty streets of Hawkins. It had been a long day at Melvald’s; I’d been tasked with running the store for the weekend on account of it being my parents’ wedding anniversary, and my dad had planned a surprise trip for my mom to Lake Superior. On any other occasion, it would have been fine. Working at Melvald’s wasn’t the problem, rather, it was my last week of working there before I left for college wherein lied the issue.

It was the day after The Fight. “Can you grab some coin rolls from the back, honey?” my mom had asked me from the counter. I nodded, put down the notebooks I’d been stocking, and headed to the supply closet, turning up the volume on my walkman as I went. The lyrics of Billy Squier’s “My Kinda Lover,” infiltrated my mind as I grabbed the coin rolls and walked back to the counter, where… oh no. Mike Wheeler was walking down the sidewalk in the direction of our store.

“Fuck,” I whispered to myself as I approached my mom. She looked up at me, her smile fading when she noticed the panic in my expression. “Mom?” I felt my voice waver, “Mom, hide me. Please.”

“What? Why–” she asked, but there was no time to explain. Mike was mere feet away from the door. He’d probably fucking seen me by now.

“Just do it,” I begged. “Please.” She thankfully didn’t press me any further and gestured for me to duck below the register. I did so as quickly as I possibly could, and held my breath as I waited for the little bell above the door to ring. And it did.

“Hey, Mike!” I heard my mom’s voice above me, and I lowered my head into my hands. What the hell was I even doing? Why was I such a coward? I couldn’t even face Mike, while he’d come all the way to my mom’s store, probably looking for—

“Hey Ms. Byers…” I heard Mike say, “Is Will here by any chance? I need to talk to him.” He definitely sounded like he hadn’t slept last night. I hadn’t, either. I couldn’t. Not with the feeling of Mike’s lips on mine existing for the sole purpose of haunting me. I wanted so badly to stand up, jump the counter, and pull Mike into me so hard that it would send us crashing to the floor so hard that we’d get permanent amnesia and therefore erase the horrors of the past twenty four hours from our memories.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie, he left a little while ago.”

I heard Mike sigh. “Is he headed home? Or–”

“I’m honestly not sure, he never tells me anything these days.”

“Well, when you see him next, can you…” His voice broke– and so did my heart. “Can you please tell him to call me?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Thank you. I hope you have a great rest of your day.”

“You… too,” my mom said slowly, and I heard the bell ring once more as Mike left the store. Out of nowhere, I felt my mom’s foot lightly kicking my shin, and I knew then that I was in trouble. I stood up to see her leaning against the counter with her arms crossed.

“What in the world happened that could possibly make you want to hide under a counter to avoid your best friend of thirteen years?”

“Listen, it’s complicated–”

“You love Mike!”

“Yeah, and that’s the problem, Mom!” I broke down then, my voice dissolving into quiet sobs. She pulled me down to her level and rubbed my back comfortingly, but I didn’t stop talking. “I love him. I love him so much it hurts. And I’d just come to terms with him not feeling the same, but yesterday, I found twenty six love letters to me that he’d written over the past two years– yeah, according to the letters, it turns out he’s apparently gay and in love with me, what the hell are the odds of that happening– and when I brought them to him asking for answers, he just kissed me.”

Mom pulled away then, her eyebrows furrowing across her forehead. “He kissed you?! Wow! Isn’t that a good th–”

“No!” I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “No, it’s not a good thing, because it isn’t true! He doesn’t love me. He just said he did, and he says a lot of things–”

“He was probably just scared, baby! Remember how nervous you were to come out to me and Dad? Besides, you know he hasn’t ever really been the best at expressing his feelings. He most likely wrote those letters because he was too afraid to tell you.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Um, you’re probably right.”

This flashback, in combination with what I’d overheard the last time I hung out with the Party, had me so far gone into a mental breakdown that I thought I was going to explode. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed. Mike’s gonna be pissed. I was distraught. I couldn’t go home like this without Jonathan and El asking me a thousand and one questions, so I decided to take a little detour to the park.

“We stealthily made it out of my window and down onto the ground without dying, and then we grabbed our bikes before making our great escape. We biked out into the night, wind whipping through our hair, and I just felt so free. And for a second, just a split second, I imagined what it would be like if we were together, and we were sneaking off to make out in the woods or something. That would be so romantic.”

I eventually reached the playground of my childhood. My eyes drifted to the swingset; it looked so small and rickety now, compared to how I used to imagine it as a castle when I was a kid. I sat down on one of the swings, getting used to the feel of the hard plastic pushing into my sides. My friends weren’t kidding. Long gone was the skinny kid I used to be; I really had built up more muscle than I knew what to do with. I took a deep breath and propelled myself off of the wood chips by my heels. As the cool wind blew through my hair, emotions ran high as it hit me that I had grown up.

“Hi, I’m Michael! Do you want to be my friend?” “Yes!” I felt a few stray tears escape my eyes, and pulled a hand off one of the chains to brush them away. I continued swinging for a few more minutes, hoping that it would calm me down, but I just got even sadder as time dragged on. I met Mike on these swings, I thought. We were best friends. I loved him. Now that we don’t talk… he’s just a ghost. I jumped off the swings and took a few seconds to reorient myself, glancing down at my shoes.

But then, I heard a faint rumbling across the pavement, and looked up from the ground to see a tall figure skateboarding down the sidewalk. Oh my god. It was Mike. Mike was here. Mike was… out of the house? Oh my god, Mike was skateboarding at night in my direction. I felt panic rise into my throat and suddenly felt the urge to throw up again. I had to hide. Fuck, I really had to hide, because Mike was getting closer and closer and I was in no condition to talk to him.

I dashed across the playground, trying my best to stay as quiet and as low to the ground as possible in order to not be seen. I managed to reach the metal slide and crouched behind it, raising my head the slightest bit upwards so I could see over the edge of it. Hawkins still hadn’t replaced that damn slide, even after all the times my friends and I had burnt our asses in the ninety degree summer heat throughout our elementary school days.

As Mike approached the playground, he skidded his skateboard to a stop and paused to look around, probably making sure he was the only one there. His head turned in my direction, and I prayed my reflexes were quick enough as I escaped his line of sight. They thankfully seemed to suffice as I heard the wheels of his board begin to roll once again. I peeked over the edge of the slide like the creep I was and watched Mike skate in circles around the basketball court. His long black hair was covered by a beanie, but was still long enough to flow gracefully behind him. God, he was beautiful. Just as beautiful as I remembered. I missed him. You know what? Screw it, I’m gonna talk to him, I thought. I’m going to make things right between us. Against my better judgment, I stood up and made my way over to Mike.

He caught a glimpse of me in his peripheral vision and had to do a double take before jumping off his board to walk over to me. We both watched it roll away and fall off the pavement and into the grass before turning back to each other.

“Will,” he was the first to speak. It felt like a whole century had passed since I’d last heard him say my name, and I’d forgotten how much I loved hearing it.

“Mike.” I looked up at Mike then, taking in the entirety of his appearance. He had dark circles under his eyes, and judging by his oily scalp, he looked like he hadn’t showered in days.

“How have you been?” he asked me. Typical Mike, I thought, always wondering how I’m doing. Then again, he was just asking a simple question found in most conversations, I was nothing special.

“I’m doing alright,” I replied, shoving my hands into my jean pockets. “How are you?”

“Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

He’s been like this since August, so… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.

“... Not particularly, no.”

We stood there for a few seconds in silence, unsure of what to say. I decided to speak first this time around. “So… how are things in Indy?”

Mike scoffed then, closing his eyes tightly in frustration. “You know, the least you can do is fucking apologize.” He was right; I’d left things on a horrible note, and had yet to mention anything about our fight.

“I know, Mike, I’m s–”

“No,” Mike cut me off, his gaze hardening. “You’re only sorry because I prompted it.”

“Says the one who expected me to just accept the fact that he was in love with me and not question his integrity after finding twenty six love letters in his bedroom.”

“You shouldn’t have read those.”

“You shouldn’t have left them out!”

“Well, I was a fucking dumbass, what else is new?”

“Well, so am I, then, because I had finally convinced myself that you didn’t love me, just for you to go and turn my whole world upside down!” Neither of us even noticed or reacted to the unintentional pun.

“I do love you, Will,” Mike’s voice softened as it always did, and he took a step closer to me as he spoke. “I do. What do I have to do to make you believe me?”

“Kiss me,” I replied.

Mike groaned at that, rolling his eyes as he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “What do you mean, kiss me? I did kiss you that day, and you–”

“But you only did it because I prompted it,” I shot Mike’s words right back at him, and he could only blink. “If you really love me, you’ll prove it to me by kissing me for real. No leading me on and letting me down. No goddamn love letters. Just… kiss me.”

He took a deep breath then, his eyes meeting mine once again and his expression turning into a determined resolve. “You want me to kiss you for real?” Mike whispered, closing the remaining distance between us. “I’ll show you real.”

The sound of Mike’s skateboard violently smacking against the pavement brought me back to reality. I was still hidden behind the slide. I ran my hands over my face, rubbing my fingertips against the corners of my eyes. I was so exhausted that my imagination had gone off the rails.

I needed to go get some sleep. But Mike was in the way of my route home, and I was not prepared to pass him on my bike just to get stopped and forced to have an awkward, real-life encounter with him. What if I just… took the next street over? I thought to myself. That could work. But… where did I leave my… bike. My bike rested on its side against the swingset, clear on the other side of the park. I’d forgotten how far I’d wandered away from it, and wondered briefly how Mike couldn’t have seen it yet. I glanced back over to the basketball court at… Mike. Who wasn’t there.

“You stalking me, Byers?” I heard from above me, and even though my mind had deducted that that he had spotted me behind the slide, my heart still jumped at the sight of Mike looming over me. I stood up, brushing the accumulated woodchips off my knees from kneeling.

“You caught me, Wheeler,” I chuckled, and Mike smiled back.

“How have you been?” he asked me. Typical Mike, I thought, always wondering how I’m doing. Then again, he was just asking a simple question found in most conversations, I was nothing special.

“I’m doing alright,” I replied, shoving my hands into my jean pockets. “How are you?”

“Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

He’s been like this since August, so… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, rocking back and forth on my feet a few times. “All of this is my fault. It’s my fault you’re like this.”

“Yeah. It kind of is.”

“I shouldn’t have blown up on you like that. If I hadn’t, then maybe all of this could have been…” I faltered, and Mike shook his head.

“There was no avoiding it, Will,” he said. “I went about it all wrong. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I should have taken the time to explain to you–”

“But you did explain, that’s the thing,” I said. “I was just too caught up in my own anger and confusion to notice–”

“I don’t blame you for being angry and confused,” Mike told me, and I looked up to notice tears welling up in his eyes. “I was angry and confused at myself for my inability to tell you the truth about how I felt. It scared the shit out of me.”

I couldn’t help but reach up then, resting my hand against his cheek and swiping the tears away. He let out a small sniffle and lifted his eyes from the ground to meet mine. They say that the eyes are windows to the soul; the pain in his eyes sent me right back to that day of our mutual heartbreak, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I lifted my other hand to hold the other side of his face, and ran my thumbs over his cheeks once more before I—

Heard someone yell, “Ow, fuck!” knocking me out of my daze of delusion once again. I looked up and saw that Mike had fallen off his board, and was laying on the pavement on his back, unmoving. For a moment, I feared that he’d knocked himself out, but relief flooded my body when I saw him reach his hands up to his head and run his fingers through his hair with a groan. He didn’t get up, though, so I hesitantly rose from my position on the ground and approached Mike slowly. He noticed my shadow and whipped his head in my direction, eyes wide. He looked stupified, unable to find the words to say to me. Not like I could have done any better.

I knelt down next to him, and couldn’t help it when my breath hitched. Mike looked gorgeous from this angle, in the moonlight, below me. I felt something primal within myself awaken, letting a low noise escape my throat as I let my body take over. I crawled a bit closer to Mike, reading his expression for any stop signs. And then… I pounced.

A shiver went down my spine, shaking me out of my hopefully last scenario. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but my knees were starting to hurt from crouching behind the slide. I pulled my hands off the rail of the slide to rub my freezing cold palms together.

“Goddamnit!” Mike shouted at the night sky, which had turned a light grey with the snow that had begun to fall over the park. I blinked a few stray snowflakes out of my eyes and pulled my hood up, preparing to sprint across the park, grab my bike, and go. All the cardio training I’d done over the past semester had to have been done for a purpose. And this was it.

I took a few deep breaths, about to make a run for it, when I heard a high pitched whine come from the direction of the basketball court. I took one last glance over to Mike, who was reaching into his pocket and pulling out… was that a flask? My suspicions were confirmed when he unscrewed the top and tipped his head all the way back as he proceeded to chug the whole thing in a few seconds. Oh god.

He’s been like this since August, so… whatever you did must have really fucked him up.

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lokis-army-77 · 8 months

Text

Private Viewing

Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 6.8k

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.

Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.

Masterlist

Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy.

You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight.

Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception.

You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out.

“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself.

“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum?

It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”

You want to cry.

“Four.”

The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.

“Three.”

You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.

“Two.”

The tears are flowing now.

“One.”

You let out a strangled scream.

“Cum baby. Do it, now.”

Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well.

With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum.

When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.”

And then the live is over.

Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed.

…

Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class.

You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.

The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you.

You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang.

He apologizes before making his introduction. He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.

It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you.

His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence.

It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention.

Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O.

“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen.

Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand.

It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone.

Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes.

When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.

That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.

…

Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself.

‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’

‘No…’

‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’

You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad.

Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.

He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans.

You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat.

Princess23: hi Ed

His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"

There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.

Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.

The reply to his question is truer than he realizes.

"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.

Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth.

It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"

Princess23: yes please

"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans.

You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one.

Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.

He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.

"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off.

As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs.

Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.

"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length.

"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?"

"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound.

You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth.

"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect."

You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit.

The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.

The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.

There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level.

It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast.

So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.

You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy.

"Oh fuck," you cry. Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions.

He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized.

He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.

The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core.

Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.

He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end.

“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”

“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.”

The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated.

Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight.

With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure.

…

It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week.

Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you.

You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?

There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you.

“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space.

“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?”

“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.”

He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it.

“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”

You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”

"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students.

You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?

…

You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job.

It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay.

Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition.

You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”

“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together.

You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster.

Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“What was that?” He asks.

“What was what?” You answer.

“Why did you slam your phone down?”

“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”

“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”

A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen.

“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.

Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."

…

After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean.

It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not.

You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand.

You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."

He turns to you. "Hum?"

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."

"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered.

"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."

He doesn't look all too surprised.

"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."

Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans.

You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.

Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.

Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.

When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly.

He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin.

"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out."

The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved.

"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself."

You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped.

He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.

Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long.

You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to.

'He knows." You argue with yourself.

'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'

The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it.

So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen.

Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.

He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head.

You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut.

You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him.

Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls.

Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.

He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more.

It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does.

"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.”

Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises.

In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark.

…

Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see.

Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf.

You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear.

“Hi, Sweetheart.”

“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.

“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face.

You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret.

“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?”

Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer.

Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out.

Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking.

“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.

He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”

He forces you to look at him and you nod your head.

You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful.

As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down.

“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.”

“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.”

He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”

“Yes, but-”

He cuts you off with a finger over your lips.

“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours.

They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does.

To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.

His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.

With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank.

When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine.

"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."

You pout. "But Eddie…"

"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."

You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work.

It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it.

"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."

He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."

You moan loudly at his praise.

"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."

His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.

"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster.

"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.

"Kiss me again," you beg.

He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you.

The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt, uncomfortably, between your legs.

"So good for me." He praises.

You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.

"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.

"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin.

You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."

Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs.

You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds.

You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.

"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.

The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.

"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.

"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"

It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are.

Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.

You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you.

"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him.

Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster.

He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.

The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight.

He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.”

You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.”

Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions.

The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room.

In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half.

“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part.

You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again.

Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans.

“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow.

Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.”

You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits. He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either.

“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight.

He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.”

Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice.

Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit.

“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!”

“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.”

“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed.

“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out.

Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.

You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time.

You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy.

Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.

“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah?” You whisper.

“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin.

Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened.

It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you.

“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.”

He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again.

“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.”

That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on.

He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground.

Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #camboy!eddie #camboy!eddie munson #soft!dom eddie

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luveline · 3 months

Text

(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago.

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch.

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you.

“I wanna see Max.”

“She has to be here somewhere.”

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest.

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here.

Steve frowns at you worriedly.

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers.

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips.

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes.

“Is it awful?” you ask.

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult.

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask.

“Dustin. He’s outside.”

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.”

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes.

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?”

“Like you like him.”

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?”

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?”

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings.

“Looks like something. Are you dating?”

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.”

“He was touching you a lot.”

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely.

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh.

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s—

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder.

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug.

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly.

Oh, boy, you think.

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy.

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet.

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.”

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.”

“Steve.”

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.”

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty.

“What?” he asks.

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.”

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.”

“I sounded weird?”

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.”

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it.

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do.

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.”

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice.

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.”

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something.

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie?

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged.

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews.

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way.

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused.

“You were in the way of the light.”

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself.

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?”

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks.

“It’s good.”

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.”

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you.

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise!

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this.

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing.

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs.

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek.

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen.

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say.

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.”

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.”

“I thought…” And of course he did.

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.”

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes.

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious.

“Yeah.”

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.”

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.”

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.”

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks.

“I like you too!” he says loudly.

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?”

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again.

“You okay?” he asks tightly.

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?”

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.”

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?”

You nod vehemently.

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm.

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.”

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you.

“You can be my parasol.”

“Your what?”

“It’s a sun umbrella.”

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up.

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.”

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay.

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur.

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?”

“That’s perfect.”

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly.

“No… I’m thinking.”

“Nothing good ever comes of that.”

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight.

“It’s a question.”

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world.

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.”

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.”

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.”

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start.

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem.

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur.

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it.

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke.

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington drabble

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say-al0e · 2 months

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Movie Night

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie Munson for ages. When you finally ask him over to a watch a movie, you learn that your feelings are definitely requited. Warnings: General mention of Eddie's reputation/being mistreated for said reputation, protected PinV, oral (m receiving). Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.8k (it got away from me, my bad)

“I think I’m going to ask him out.”

Steve, who had been sorting through tapes on autopilot - huffing at each return that needed to be rewound, muttering under his breath each time your perch on the counter jeopardized his precarious pile of returns - lifted his head at the sound of your voice.

A quick glance around the store reminded him that it was empty, save for the two of you, Dustin Henderson, and Eddie Munson. It was obvious that you weren’t talking about Dustin and he knew you weren’t talking about him - been there, done that; be kind, don’t rewind.

The only logical conclusion was Eddie and that pulled a grimace from Steve as he spared your one-time classmate a weary glance.

Across the store, Eddie watched as Dustin - with flailing limbs and grinning lips - sorted through tapes in search of a film neither you nor Steve had ever heard of. He looked amused, eyes wide and bright as he listened to Dustin, and it brought a soft smile to your lips that Steve quickly erased.

“You’re going to ask out Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” Steve shuddered, as if he couldn’t bear to think about it - only a little exaggerated, a little dramatic in a way he often teased Dustin for - and shook his head as he transferred his pile to the cart. “Why would you do something like that?”

Though Steve had made great strides in shedding the high school persona he’d spent so long clinging to - he was no longer the Grade-A douchebag he once was - there were still moments of reflexive snobbery that made you roll your eyes. It didn’t help that there was an undercurrent of jealousy, spurred by Dustin’s newfound Eddie worship, but he seemed to realize his mistake as he held up a hand in apology.

“He’s cute.” There was a defensive bite to your tone, sharp and pointed - a derisive huff that made Steve raise a brow - as you spared the pair a glance.

Though most wouldn’t believe it, you’d always found Eddie cute. When he returned to school your junior year (his first senior year) with longer hair, wearing a leather jacket, you’d been drawn to him immediately. There was something about him that enchanted you - his hair, his smile, his big brown eyes, his theatrics, his give-no-fucks attitude - and saddled you with one of the biggest crushes you’d ever had.

Despite the years of pining, you never acted on it. Eddie never gave you much reason to believe your feelings might be requited, other than the time you caught him checking out your ass beneath your cheer skirt senior year, but things were different now. High school insecurity was gone and you no longer cared what anyone thought about your personal life.

And if Eddie truly had no interest in you, you wouldn’t be stuck in a building with him five days a week.

Steve’s face remained sour, uncertain - despite his knowledge that Eddie was almost perfectly your type - so you rolled your eyes and jostled the desk, just to make him jump. When he glared at you, you grinned.

“I mean, what’s the harm? Eddie’s always been nice to me. At worst, I pull a Henderson and replace you with Eddie.”

“Please. My life would drastically improve if you left me alone.” At your mock outrage, Steve sneered - though you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, one that confirmed he was joking, though he would likely apologize for being bitchy later, anyway.

Steve shook his head as he shoved a tape, ready to be marked as a return, into your hands. “Of course Munson has always been nice to you. You’re hot.” It was said easily, as if it was the most logical explanation, a point blank huff that had him shrugging when you teasingly wagged your brows. “You know I think you’re hot. Shut up. And Munson’s weird, but he’s still a guy.”

The sharp nudge of your foot to Steve’s side drew another annoyed huff, this one accompanied by a swift swat to your foot - one that made you laugh and Steve roll his eyes.

“He’s not weird,” you defended, eyes narrowed as you scratched at the Family Video sticker covering the spine of a tape. “Just because you’re not into the same stuff doesn’t mean he’s, like, a freak or something. He’s just a guy. A cute guy, but just a guy.”

Finally, as if he’d come to terms with the fact that no work would be done until you’d decided to make your move or backed down, deflated and intending to leave well enough alone, Steve turned to lean against the counter. He folded his arms over his chest and allowed his gaze to flicker between you and Eddie.

“You’re really into him?”

Steve knew that you were. Just as you’d given him dating advice, he’d given you the same in return and knew that you had a thing for metalheads in theory - guys with leather jackets and music collections that made his head hurt - but the last person you actually pursued was more like him. It was always the safe choice and he wanted to be certain that you knew what you were getting yourself into.

“You’re totally forgetting that I thought Billy Hargrove was gorgeous until he opened his mouth and proved himself to be a Grade-A dickhead. At least Eddie’s really a nice guy.” With a sigh, you slid from the counter - careful not to destroy Steve’s pile - and frowned as you spared Eddie another sideways glance.

A dejected sigh escaped, fell from your mouth in a puff of hot air, as you emulated Steve’s stance and folded your arms over your chest. You understood where Steve was coming from - his question was fair, one that made perfect sense - but it made your chest ache as you searched for the words to adequately describe what you’d been thinking.

“I just… I’m tired of going for the safe choice, you know? I’m tired of looking for people that won’t disappoint my parents or make judge-y assholes look twice, even if they make me miserable.” With a forced laugh, a sound that rang hollow in your own ears, you turned your full attention back to Steve. “I think you’re the only person I ever even attempted to date that I halfway liked and we both know how that ended up.” Steve made a face, one that clearly displayed his understanding, as he tilted his head to study Eddie, trying to see what you saw. “Eddie’s cute and sweet and I’m not just into him because I feel like I’m supposed to be.”

Steve understood, if only vaguely - he’d chased after people just because he felt he was supposed to, spent his entire high school career being a guy he didn’t really like because that was who he felt he was supposed to be - so he nodded. With a wave of his hand, he gestured to Eddie. “I say, if you want to ask him out, just do it. There’s no chance he’ll turn you down. He’s weird, not an idiot.”

With Steve’s encouragement, if only barely, you turned to face Eddie. There was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, flames lapping at your already warm skin, as you considered exactly how to approach him. There was no sense in trying to beat around the bush - he was sweet, flirty and kind, but would need to be asked directly, just to avoid any misunderstanding - and you knew that you couldn’t have a conversation with him with Dustin Henderson stuck to his side.

“Steve.”

An exasperated sigh escaped Steve, who had only just turned back to his work, as he held his hands up in defeat. “What?” Warm brown eyes narrowed, focused on you in an exasperated frustration that made you laugh. “What do you want me to do? I’m not asking him out for you.”

Laughter bubbled in your throat, escaped a little louder than you intended and drew Eddie and Dustin’s attention as you imagined Steve playing the middleman for you and Eddie. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned your head and pouted at Steve. “Take responsibility for your child and distract Henderson. I can’t ask Eddie out with him right there.”

Steve fixed you with a wholly unimpressed stare, not at all surprised by the turn your day had taken. “Fine,” he sighed, turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Get him over here and I’ll distract him. But you owe me. Cover my shift on Saturday? I’ve got a date with Lisa.”

“I thought you were going out with Anna?” Steve grimaced in a way that told you there would be a deeper conversation later, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be distracted. Instead, you waved a hand. “Whatever. Henderson is literally only here because of you. I don’t owe you shit.” You rounded the counter, brows raised as Steve pulled a face, and laughed when he rolled his eyes. “I will swap you, though. I’ll take your Saturday night if you take my Friday night.”

“Yeah, alright. Just go before I change my mind. The kid can be a total cockblock when he wants to be and I’m thinking about letting him.”

With a middle finger tossed behind you, angled in Steve’s direction - met with his laughter and, no doubt, a middle finger of his own - you started off across the store. Dustin and Eddie had dropped their conversation to furious whispers, an exchange that you couldn’t make out from your distance, but fell silent the moment your steps sounded a touch too close.

“Henderson.” At your greeting, Dustin’s attention snapped to you, eyes wide and lips parted with a sentence you’d broken. Eddie shot him a sideways look and you raised an eyebrow at the silent conversation that passed between the pair. “Steve wanted to talk to you.”

Dustin frowned, eyes darting between you and Steve - whose back remained to your group. “About what?”

Eddie stifled a laugh, wide eyes amused as he watched you huff, and you rolled your eyes as Dustin waited expectantly. “I’m not a mindreader, Henderson. Ask him yourself."

Without so much as another glance in your direction, Dustin turned his attention back to the shelf he and Eddie had spent twenty minutes dissecting. “I’m busy,” he declared, fingers reaching for another tape that he had no intention of renting.

“Un-busy yourself. Now, preferably,” you snapped, eyes narrowing as Dustin turned to look at you. Before he could respond - mutter something smart, a quip that would leave you more annoyed - Eddie laughed and nudged his shoulder.

Eddie’s eyes, wide and pretty - a glassy brown that you could lose yourself in, given the chance - met yours. There was a knowing glimmer, the understanding that you wanted him alone, though you could see a hint of confusion as he tried to imagine just what you could want. “I think you’ve got about five seconds to leave before she snaps, Henderson. Might want to make yourself scarce.”

With Eddie’s encouragement, Dustin shot you an unimpressed glower before he stomped across the floor, muttering all the while. Beneath his breath, he mumbled something about not understanding girls, a huff that Suzie was the least difficult girl in his life, and had the nerves not been threatening to choke you, you would’ve laughed.

“I love those kids,” you began, eyes following Dustin’s retreating form as he approached the counter with an exaggerated huff, “but, man.”

A soft huff of laughter, accompanied by the crinkle of leather as Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, met your eyes. That knowing smile grew a touch brighter, something more understanding, as he nodded. “It’s his tone,” he declared, grin conspiratorial. “A little humility would go far there.”

“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying!”

Eddie laughed and shook his head as you tossed your arms, exasperated, before glancing at you from beneath his lashes. Despite the clear amusement still settled across his features, it was obvious that he was studying you. It made you eager to shrink beneath his gaze, unused to being the center of his attention for longer than a few moments, but you willed yourself to keep your head held high as he raised a brow.

“So, Henderson’s gone,” he pointed out, dragging each syllable out just a moment longer than necessary. “What’s up? If you’re lookin’ to buy, I don’t have anything with me. We could meet later, though, if you want.”

“No, no. That’s not -“ You cut yourself off with a shake of your head, incredulous laughter threatening to escape as you did. “I don’t want to buy. I was thinking, maybe we could watch a movie or something? I want to watch The Return of the Living Dead but my friends are all chickens. I know you like horror so, I just thought, maybe we could watch it together.”

Eddie blinked, clearly caught off guard, and stilled for what felt like an eternity. In reality, only a moment passed before his lips began to curve into a slow smile. There was mischief glittering in his eyes, a warmth you hadn’t seen from him before, and you knew in that moment that Steve was right. “Are you asking me on a date, princess?”

“I am.” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Eddie’s brows winged up at your blunt acknowledgement. “Are you going to say yes?”

“Fuck yeah,” he agreed, easy and quick as he laughed. “If I ever say no to a date with you, assume I’ve finally lost it. But, uh, you sure about this?”

Eddie glanced across the store - met another pair of warm brown eyes before Steve and Dustin both hurriedly busied themselves with pretending they weren’t attempting to eavesdrop - and you rolled your eyes. He was far from the first person to assume there was more going on between you and Steve than friendship, but you were quick to dispel that line of thinking.

“Completely.” You debated for a moment, curious as to whether you should dig yourself deeper, but the bright glint in Eddie’s eyes - hopeful and delighted - spurred you on. “I’ve kinda had a thing for you for a while,” you admitted, attempting to feign nonchalance as you swiped at a wayward piece of dust on a shelf. His surprise was evident, brows lifting beneath the curl of his hair, but before he could comment, you barreled on. “My parents are out of town. I have to finish my shift,” you began, glancing at the clock above the desk, “but you can come over at, like, seven?”

“Seven, yeah.” Eddie’s agreement was quick, voice a little dreamy - as if he still couldn’t quite believe you’d asked him out, that you were seriously inviting him over or that you’d admitted to having a thing for him. “That sounds good. I, uh, I’ll see you then.”

“Cool, awesome.” You nodded, grinning at him - unable to even feign nonchalance as his smile mirrored your own - before you turned back to the desk. “I’ll see you at seven, then.”

Neither Eddie nor Dustin lingered long after your conversation - the latter, no doubt, leaving with the knowledge of where Eddie would be spending his evening, thanks to his gossiping with Steve. Eddie left with a smile in your direction and you saw his flailing celebration the second he stepped out of the store, even if you dutifully pretended not to noice.

Steve, however, made it a point to keep the joyous gesture at the forefront of your mind.

For the remaining three hours of your shift, you endured Steve’s teasing. He poked fun at your upcoming date, wondering idly if Eddie would be waiting for you when you arrived home - too excited too wait until seven - or if he’d wear something other than his leather jacket or black t-shirt. But, no matter what he said, you simply rolled your eyes and kept checking the clock every ten minutes.

The time seemed to crawl, passing so slowly that you were half-sure Dustin changed the clocks just to mess with you, but when the hour struck six, you were out the door with a parting wave and a bright ‘thanks’ to Steve for taking on closing duties alone.

There was little time for anything more than a change of clothes and a quick tidying of your home before seven rolled around, but you knew that Eddie wouldn’t really mind. Though there was something about him that made you nervous - excited, giddy, some kind of schoolgirl crush - if you really thought about it, you figured there was little you could do that would truly bother him.

And, thankfully, before you could think too much about it and send yourself spiraling, a knock sounded at the door.

At seven on the dot, you found Eddie standing at your front door. He’d changed - his leather jacket remained, but it covered a nicer shirt instead of the worn Metallica shirt he’d donned earlier in the afternoon - and you could smell the green apple of his shampoo as he grinned at you.

“Hey.” Though he attempted nonchalance with an easy smile, you could see the nervous tension in his shoulders.

Eddie had been burned - you knew that - and he was likely waiting for the catch. There was none, just a desire to get to know him better, and you wanted desperately for him to know that. So you mustered up your widest grin and held the door open for him.

“Hi. Come in.” As he stepped inside, closer than necessary - shoulder brushing yours, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body - you hoped he don’t notice the breath you took to steady yourself. “So, I got Return of the Living Dead and Sleepaway Camp. Not sure if you’ve seen either, but Return is supposed to be amazing and Sleepaway Camp is one of my favorites.”

“I haven’t seen Return yet,” he admitted as you closed the front door, “but I’ve heard good things. Sleepaway Camp, though? This whole time, I thought you were cool.” The jab was teasing, meant entirely in jest and accompanied by a grin, and earned a roll of your eyes as you gestured for him to follow you deeper into the living room.

“I don’t know where you got that idea, but I’m happy to prove you wrong.” Eddie followed, close enough that. He could reach out and touch you, and the idea made your thoughts a little fuzzy as you approached the couch. “I won’t be taking any Sleepaway Camp slander, though. It’s killer.”

Eddie paused, tilted his head and regarded you with furrowed brows and a badly concealed smile as he watched you reach for the tapes. “…was that a really bad pun?”

“I keep getting cooler, I’m aware.” Eddie laughed, unable to conceal his smile any longer, as he took a seat at one end of the couch. “I was going to say we could start with Return since neither of us have seen it but now, you’re going to suffer through Sleepaway Camp first.”

As you placed the tape into the VCR and pressed play, you could hear the shuffling of Eddie tossing his leather jacket onto the chair beside the couch. “Fine by me,” he hummed, a sly grin on his lips as you glanced at him over your shoulder. “Maybe the company will make it better.” When you fixed him with your best unimpressed look - a feat, considering the heat traveling to your cheeks - his grin grew a touch wider. “I keep getting more charming, I’m aware.”

“Wow.” The nervous energy began to dissipate with every teasing jab. You were reminded of how easily you’d always gotten along with Eddie - how easily you’d always been able to converse with him, despite the crush that made you conscious of your every move - as you approached the couch yourself. “You know, now that you mention it, I never realized…” Warm brown eyes tracked your every move, anticipating - hoping for - a compliment as you took a seat at the opposite end. “… just how big your head was.”

The opening scene began to play, sounds of a B-horror film filling the small space, as he reached for the lamp on the side table. “Big head, big… well, you know how the saying goes,” he teased as he settled deeper into the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I do but I’m pretty sure that is totally not how it starts.”

Eddie shrugged, grin never faltering as he watched you reach for the lamp at your end of the couch. “Same thing. Creative license and all that.”

“Right. All the songwriting and campaign planning, makes sense you get a little creative.” When he tipped his head, seemingly surprised that you knew about both his songwriting and campaign planning, you rolled your eyes. “I’ve had a crush on you for, like, three years. I know things about you, Eddie. And, I mean, I spend time around Dustin Henderson, begrudgingly most of the time, but he talks about you all the time. So, I’ve picked up some things.”

There was a look of something akin to awe on his face as you shifted closer. “You’re pretty, you like horror and metal, and you like me. Why?”

It broke your heart to hear the doubt in his voice - to see the hesitance in his eyes, the residual concern that he was being left out of the joke - and you couldn’t help but sigh as you continued shifting closer to him. “Because you like horror and metal and you’re kinda cool. And, I mean, it doesn’t hurt that you’re kinda hot, too.”

“You know,” he spared the television a glance, “if you didn’t have sort of questionable taste, I’d think this was all too good to be true. But, I’m not gonna question it too much ‘cause you’re kinda cool, too. And definitely hot.”

“Glad to know we’re on the same page, then. Now, are we going to just talk or are you going to allow me to educate you in good horror?”

Eddie’s laughter drowned out a brief moment of dialogue - a line you could easily recite - as he tossed an arm over the back of the couch and shook his head. “‘M sorry. Educate away, princess.”

For a few brief moments, the pair of you settled. Eddie kept his attention on the television - and even cracked a smile or two at some of your favorite moments - while you kept your attention on him. His side profile was captivating, so distracting that you didn’t notice the minutes ticking away as you studied him, and he was kind enough to refrain from pointing out your obvious staring as the film played on.

Though you could feel the rapid beat of your heart, a warmth prickling at your skin as you remained conscious of the fact that you’d finally taken the leap and had a chance to make your move, Eddie seemed unfazed by the proximity as he laughed at a particularly cheesy scene. However, when you shifted closer - body now practically touching his - you caught his sharp inhale.

It brought you a sort of comfort to realize that he was not as unaffected as he seemed, nowhere near as nonchalant about the entire encounter as he wanted you to believe, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tipped your head to look at him.

“Do I make you nervous?”

The question was teasing, a light jab, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Of course you do,” he confirmed with a nod and a laugh as he glanced at you. “You’re smart and cool and hot. You fucking terrify me.”

“Me?” You scoffed, despite yourself, and shook your head. “As if. I’m totally not scary.”

“‘M serious.” Eddie relaxed, if only slightly, and shifted his body to face you fully as his arm fell around your shoulders. “No one had their shit together in high school, but you did. You knew what you wanted and it was kind of intimidating.”

“I definitely did not have my shit together,” you confessed, laughing as you leaned into his embrace. “But I’m glad it looked like I did. Maybe I’m just a good actress.”

“If that’s acting, you should be up for an Oscar, princess.”

As Eddie laughed, a quiet sound that washed over you and filled your chest with a sticky warmth, you shook your head. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know?”

Eddie hummed, a flash of confusion washing over his face, before he asked, “What, princess?”

“Mm. I think if it was anyone else, it would sound condescending. Like they’re trying to be a prick, you know. But I don’t mind it from you,” you confessed. “It’s kinda nice.”

That grin you were beginning to love - genuine, warm, happy - lifted his lips as he shifted once more and knocked your knee with his own. “I’m not a big fan of nicknames, for obvious reasons,” he confided, “but I like it when you call me Eds. It’s kinda cute.”

“God, we’re kinda gross.”

“Totally. But I’m not complaining.” Eddie removed his arm from around your shoulders and brought his hand to cup your cheek. He paused for a moment, studying your face, before he asked, “Does it make me a total loser if I’ve thought about kissing you for, like, ever?”

For a split second, you wondered if he could hear the beat of your heart over the screaming emanating from the television - and if you’d heard him properly over the noise. But when you met his expectant gaze, wide brown eyes waiting for you response, you realized you didn’t really care.

“Only if you keep thinking about it instead of actually doing it.”

With your permission, Eddie leaned in and tentatively pressed his mouth to yours. The kiss was careful, hesitant, but you could feel the underlying excitement as the warmth of his palm bled into your skin. Without thinking, you breathed a contented sigh as you lifted your hands to his hair and tugged him impossibly closer.

The noise of the film continued in the background, unnoticed by either of you as Eddie took the initiative to deepen the kiss. He swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, urging you to open up for him, and you gave in without a moment of hesitation.

As many times as you’d thought about this moment - as many times as you’d pictured yourself in this situation, at the center of Eddie’s attention, with his hands and mouth on you - the reality was infinitely better than any dream. Eddie’s hands were calloused, rough from years of guitar and, now, his work at Thatcher’s, but his touch was featherlight as his hands began to wander.

Gentle fingers brushed along your jaw, dragged down the side of your neck and shoulders, inching lower until they found your waist. Your fingers tangled in his curls, indulging in your long hidden desire to play with his hair, as Eddie pulled away to allow you both a moment to breathe.

“We’re missing the totally not awful movie,” he pointed out, breath fanning over your neck as he dipped his head to nose at your jaw.

“We can rewind it later.”

Eddie laughed, his smirk evident as he nipped at the hinge of your jaw before lapping at the skin to soothe the brief sting. “Thought you wanted to educate me, princess,” he teased.

Warm hands began to wander, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your t-shirt to brush the heated skin of your waist, as he pressed soft kisses to your neck. Your own hands began to wander as well, dipping to his chest as he latched onto a patch of skin just beneath your ear.

“Want to kiss you more.”

He hummed, pleased with your answer, as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. Soft brown eyes were blown black and there was a hunger in them that you’d never been privileged enough to see. Now, the sheer weight of his desire hit you all at once as he grinned. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”

Before you could huff, playfully pout at his taunting callback, Eddie reclaimed your lips. This kiss was more heated than the first, hesitance now gone as you realized you both wanted the same thing, and it completely obliterated any remaining thoughts other than how good it felt to have him pressed so close.

Though his hands began to wander, touch fleeting as it dragged across your hips and thighs, over your middle and back to your arms, he remained respectful. As eager as you both were, his hands only fell to your chest when you lifted them there yourself.

Eddie groaned into the kiss the moment you placed his hands, fingers experimentally flexing as you shifted impossibly closer.

“You can touch me however you want,” you allowed, word exhaled against his mouth as you separated just an inch to breathe. “I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t want something.”

“Fuck.” His forehead fell to yours, curls beginning to stick to his forehead with the lightly beading sweat, as he laughed. “Ditto. I’m all yours, princess. Take whatever you want.”

“That’s a dangerous offer.” The hand you’d left on his bicep, fingers tracing the stark black ink of his tattoo, began to wander then. Slowly, you raked the tips of your fingers down his chest - not bothering to hide your grin as he inhaled sharply at the sensation of your fingers raking over his lower stomach - and stopped at the buckle of his belt. “What if I want everything?”

“It’s yours. Been yours,” he admitted, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze met yours once more. “Fuck, you’re all I want, princess. ‘ve been crazy about you for a while.”

“Keep talking like that and you might make me fall in love, Eds.” It was too late - you were already halfway there - and you both knew it. Still, Eddie laughed dutifully as his gaze fell to watch your hands tug at his belt buckle.

“Give me a few hours. I’ve been there, time for you to join me.”

The admission was half-teasing, accompanied by a breathless laugh as you worried with the warm metal beneath your fingers, but it still filled your stomach with a storm of butterflies. The time you’d spent pining over Eddie could’ve been spent lying beneath him, going on dates with him, enjoying time with him, and you were determined to make up for lost time as you tipped your head and pressed your lips to his once more.

“I’m closer than you think.”

Before he could consider your admission too closely, you pulled away and slipped off the couch to kneel between his spread thighs. Those brown eyes went wide, big and disbelieving, as you unbuckled his belt.

“Whoa. Fuck, wait.” Eddie swallowed harshly as he swept his hair from his eyes and glanced down at you. A gentle hand fell to your cheek, urging you to meet his eyes as he blinked away the lust-fueled stupor. “You don’t have to… I mean, I don’t expect you to -“

“Eddie.” He paused, tongue darting out to wet his lips once more, as you cut him off mid-sentence. “You can say no. But I want to. Is that okay?”

Eddie was far from a blushing virgin. You’d heard the rumors, tales of just how talented he was - had even heard the stories of a few trysts from the man himself - but his hesitation gave you pause. However, before you could pull away, he assured you.

“Yeah! Yeah, that’d be - yeah. I’ve had sex. I’ve just… No one has ever… It’s usually a quick fuck and then back to whoever they’re supposed to be dating,” he confessed, pink tinging his cheeks as he hurried to explain himself. “Blowjobs aren’t usually the priority.”

Though you knew Eddie fairly well, enough to have been half-in love with him for a while, you knew his reputation. But to know that others had taken advantage of his desire to love and be loved in return, it made your chest ache. Despite his reputation for being a freak - for being scary, intimidating - you knew that he was a sweetheart who deserved more than he’d been given. And you wanted to show him that you were apply to make him a priority.

“I’d love to be the first, if you’ll let me.”

“Fuck.” Eddie shuddered, his chest heaved with a sharp breath, as he raked a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yeah,” he allowed, “yeah, please.”

Eddie leaned back into the cushions then, allowing himself to relax into the plush of the couch as you popped the button on his jeans. It was obvious just how much he was enjoying the attention - plain to see from the bulge in his jeans and the pink staining his cheeks and neck - and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the sight of him.

“You’re so pretty, Eddie.” It was reverent, a breathless observation as you tugged at the denim and studied the slope of his nose - the curve of his jaw, the wild tangle of his hair - and you meant it wholeheartedly.

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, princess.” He lifted his hips, allowing you to tug at the denim just enough to expose his boxers - cheeks flushing darker when you bit back a smile at the sight of the blue and white checkerboard pattern.

“Not flattery, just honesty. You’re distracting,” you admitted, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as you began to palm at the bulge in his boxers. “But I wanna see how much prettier you are when you’re falling apart.”

“You’re killing me. Fuck.”

Deciding that he’d had enough teasing, you gave in to the desire and tugged at the final layer of material separating you. The moment you exposed him to the air, you both gasped - him at the sensation of cool air hitting blistering warm skin, you at the sight of him.

Without thought, you spit into your palm before allowing yourself to reach out and experimentally stroke his cock. Eddie groaned at the feeling, his head tipping back and his eyes fluttering shut, and you felt a surge of warmth wash over you. Each noise he made ran straight to your core, fanned the flames of the fire already beginning to burn out of control, and you shifted to allow yourself some relief before leaning in to lap at the bead of precum already beginning to form.

Another noise, this one louder, met your ears as a warm hand fell to your head. He was careful not to push, careful not to attempt to take control, as he sought to anchor himself to the moment but you wouldn’t have minded either way. And as you traced the vein running along the underside of his cock before taking the head between your lips, you could hear him swear beneath his breath.

Though you were tempted to prolong the pleasure, witness him falling apart piece by piece as you slowly worked him up, you were too worked up yourself to do more than take as much of him a you could into your mouth. You knew there would be time to experiment later - time to push yourself to take him all - so you focused on giving him the best experience you could in that moment.

It only took a few moments for his thighs to begin to flex beneath your touch, for his chest to heave and his noises of pleasure to grow louder. And though you could see the hint of embarrassment tinging his cheeks at beginning to fall apart so soon, you felt a surge of pride at your ability to rile him up so completely.

But before you could lift your head and urge him to come, assure him that it was alright, he spoke. “Fuck, princess. I don’t wanna come in your mouth.” Eddie urged you up, then, away from his cock as he attempted to catch his breath and pull himself back from the brink. “Wanna come with you. Can I fuck you?”

The blunt question warmed you from within, stole your breath and had you keening as you nodded eagerly. “Please.” A moan escaped your lips as he reached out to cup your cheek and pull you into a messy kiss that was an eager clash of tongue and teeth.

For a moment, you both lost yourselves in the kiss. Eddie groaned as your hand remained on his cock, fingers stroking slowly as you waited for him to gather himself, only for him to swear as he broke the kiss. “Shit. Fuck, I don’t have a condom,” he lamented, eyes falling shut. “Sorry. Wan’t exactly expecting,” he waved a hand, gesturing to your hand, “this.”

Luckily for the both of you, you still had a stash of condoms - given to you by Steve as a joke the last time you considered asking Eddie out - in your nightstand. “I do,” you revealed, giggling as his shoulders relaxed. “C’mon, pretty boy.”

As you stood, offering Eddie your hand, he groaned once more. “Is it your goal to kill me, princess? Because I think you might actually kill me.”

“What a way to go, though, hm?”

Eddie stood, quickly tugged his jeans up but left them unbuttoned, and followed close behind as you led him up the stairs, his hand warm in yours. You could feel his body heat radiating, could hear his shallow breathing as he attempted to even it out, and you were secretly satisfied to know that you had such an impact on him.

Even more, however, you were thrilled to know that you were only moments away from getting what you wanted.

With quick steps, you tugged him down the hall and into your bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as you entered. Once inside, Eddie paused for a moment to take in the sight.

“You know, I was expecting a Tom Cruise poster,” he teased, laughing only slightly when instead he saw Nikki Sixx.

“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for pretty, dark-haired metalheads.”

A smirk quirked his mouth as he tugged you close, hands falling to your waist as he dipped his head to capture your lips. The kiss was eager, uncoordinated and messy but breathtaking as his hands began to wander. Deft fingers flitted to the button of your jeans, and after a moment of hesitation, popped them open.

“If you want to stop, we can,” he reminded you, fingers ghosting along the sliver of skin just above your jeans. “We totally don’t have to do this.”

“You’re incredibly sweet, Eds.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands drifting to his hair to tug at the curls as you met his gaze. “But if you don’t fuck me, I might cry and I don’t feel like crying tonight.”

Eddie grinned, glad you were as eager as he was, and hummed as his fingers began to drift lower. “Can’t have you crying on my watch, princess. ‘Less they’re good, ‘I totally fucked you stupid’ tears.”

“I mean, if you’re up to the challenge, then by all means.”

Though it might’ve been the wrong thing to say, a taunt you would later regret, he took the challenge for what it was worth. There was a determined glint in his eyes, a burning desire that tied your stomach in knots, and it was burned into your field of view as he pressed his mouth to yours once more.

For a moment, you weren’t certain which sensation to focus on as Eddie’s tongue licked at the seam of your lips and his fingers ghosted over the cotton of your panties. However, he drew your full, undivided attention as he nudged the fabric aside and swiped his fingers through your slick folds.

A hum of encouragement met your ears as Eddie coated his fingers in your slick, teasing for just a moment before he found the sensitive bundle of nerves. With his lips a fraction of an inch from yours, he asked, “This all from blowing me?”

It was incredulous, almost as if he couldn’t believe it, but you hummed. “Thought about it for ages. Reality was better.”

“Don’t think I’ll last long enough to return the favor right now,” he confessed, breath fanning across your lips as he rubbed lazy circles over the bundle of nerves, “but I’ve gotta taste you before tonight’s over. Got myself off so many times thinking about it, ‘bout you.”

Eddie grinned at the moan you released, at the way you sagged against him - unable to hold yourself entirely upright with the promise of him between your thighs, the thought of him touching himself to that image. “You sure you’re not trying to kill me?”

“What a way to go.” He lingered, just for a second, before Eddie pulled away and shushed your whine with a press of his mouth to yours. “I’m gonna come in my jeans if I don’t get inside you soon, princess. Promise to take my time with you later. Gonna give you everything you deserve, treat you right.”

“Ditto.” He laughed, amused and flattered in equal measure, as he began to tug at his clothes. Encouraged, you followed suit and, soon enough, a pile of garments littered your bedroom floor.

However, neither of you dwelled on the sight for long as you headed for the bed, stopping only to retrieve a foil packet from the bedside drawer.

Every dream encounter you shared with Eddie varied - sometimes he was soft, other times he manhandled you exactly the way you wanted; sometimes he was quick, others he teased for hours - but nothing lived up to the reality of having him climb into your bed after you.

This encounter would be quick and dirty, a desperate search for relief, but you knew that it was only the first of many. And, encouraged by the future that now seemed so clear, you reached out and tugged him into you.

Lithe arms braced themselves at either side of your head, tattoos stark against his pale skin, and you hummed as you decided you would someday spend as much time as he’d allow you committing them to memory. But that could wait. For now, you simply savored the weight of him above you and tangled your fingers in his hair as he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Haven’t even gotten inside and I already can’t wait to do this again,” he confessed, dipping his head to nip at the hinge of your jaw. “And again. And again. I’m already ruined for you, princess.”

Before you could confess the same sentiment, admit your utter ruin at his hands, he pressed his hips forward and began to sink into you. The stretch was bearable, a tinge of discomfort completely overshadowed by the warmth of his skin against yours - the weight of his body pressed to yours, the nip of his teeth at your jaw - and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

Eddie stilled for a few long moments, hands stroking at whatever skin he could reach - your hips, your thighs, your stomach - as he breathed reverent nonsense. The words blurred, compliments and awed whispers of how good you felt, but it paled in comparison to the moan he released when you yanked at his curls and begged for him to finally move.

The pace he set was blistering, deep and quick and perfect, and you marveled at how right his touch felt. Every snap of his hips, every brush of his mouth against your skin, every whispered word of praise; it felt as if each was a puzzle piece, suddenly falling into place.

Though he took great care to ensure your pleasure, he made no attempt to treat you like a doll, like something that might shatter beneath his touch, and you were grateful for the heavy press of his hands to your skin as he pawed at your thighs. Almost immediately, you understood one another - both quickly fell into step beside one another - and you felt the flames he’d been fanning begin to grow out of control.

Heat engulfed you, body burning with every swipe of his fingers and snap of his hips, and it grew harder to draw your breath as his fingers found your clit. Eddie nipped at your jaw, breath fanning over your skin and sending goosebumps erupting, as he encouraged, “Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you.”

With anyone else, you might’ve been embarrassed at how quickly you barreled toward your release - at how eager you were to give in and come just because he asked - but this was Eddie. Anything he wanted, you would at least consider, and your body knew it well. So with a few swipes of his fingers and another snap of his hips, you barreled over the edge with a cry of his name.

Almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting for you, he followed suit. One, two, three snaps of his hips before he buried his face in the crook of your neck and came with a moan that you knew would play on a loop in your happiest of dreams.

For a few moments after, you both lay still - Eddie with his head buried in the crook of your neck, hands still stroking your heated skin; you, with your eyes shut and lips parted as you caught your breath, fingers raking through his curls. It was blissful, a moment you’d dreamt about, but the dream was interrupted by reality as discomfort began to set in.

When you began to squirm, Eddie quickly pulled away - pulled out and cooed when you whimpered at the loss - and tossed the used condom into the bin beside your bed before returning to lay beside you. He pulled you close, wrapped his arms around you and tugged you into his chest, and you both lay in silence for a long moment before he spoke.

“So, you wanna actually watch those movies now?”

With a laugh, you tipped your head and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Mm. Give me a minute. Gotta return to the land of the living first.”

“Take your time, princess. When you do, though, maybe you can return as my girlfriend.”

Eddie could almost certainly feel your smile, grin bright and happy as you hummed against his skin. “Yeah,” you agreed easily, not bothering to hide the giddiness you felt, “I think that can be arranged.”

Though it wasn’t how you pictured your evening, you knew it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. And, while Steve would be annoying, you couldn’t wait to venture back into the world with your boyfriend by your side.

__________________________________________________

Author's Note: Take this away from me. I've been working on this forever but got stuck on the smut.

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#stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson filth #v's fics

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blue-blue-blooms · 21 days

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Eddie Munson is the type of person that would make eye contact with you and nod his head along when you're speaking amongst a group of people and they've stopped listening to you.

Eddie Munson is the type to say, "Hey, you were saying?" when you're interrupted.

Eddie Munson is the type who would make you feel included and seen because he knows what it's like to be left out.

Eddie Munson is the type who would never let you walk behind or on the road when there's not enough space on the sidewalk for more than two people. He's linking hands with everyone and moving in a line! Or everyone's walking on the road, bitch!

#eddie munson #stranger things fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson the type #hawkins

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plasticcrotches · 27 days

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Wayne Munson helping a wolf out of a bear trap, only for said wolf to start bringing him deer and rabbits and sometimes weirdly cash? And none of the raccoons have been digging round his trash like they usually do…

He gets a knock on the door one day and it’s his old buddy Jim Hopper with that Harrington kid standing sheepishly behind him, with his arm wrapped up in bandages and a long cut running through his brow. Hop cuffs the kid on the back of the head and then the boy is stepping forward and apologizing, then saying “thanks again, sir.”

It takes Wayne a few days to piece together that the boy is his wolf.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #wayne munson #steve harrington #jim hopper #werewolf!steve #stranger things au

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caxde · 2 months

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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, on a sunny day Eddie's daughter bumps into you. (4.1k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

a/n: i think i might make this a little series if you guys would like that <3 part 2 part 3

It was warm outside.

Early spring had its advantages, flowers started to bloom, the sun shone brighter and longer, and the rain fell only at night when you had trouble sleeping.

You had just moved here, and you still weren’t sure or knew that much, so you tended to keep to yourself. You’d go to work, to the little shop on main street, back to your little trailer.

You were sitting down on your little kitchen floor, looking at the way your washing machine turned around, waiting for your hair to dry after the shower, so you could sleep with fresh sheets tonight. You enjoyed this sort of calmness, a new found happiness that you weren’t aware you could achieve.

You placed the white sheets on the little laundry basket that you had lying around, cloth pins scattered on its bottom. You held it, against your waist, your left hand grabbing it while you struggled to open the door.

You whispered along the words of a song that was playing from a beat up radio from across the street, taking your time, as you placed every sheet perfectly, enjoying the sun shining on your face. It was all going as well as it could.

“Hi.”

It startled you, not as much as it could, the little voice coming from down below you, it forced you to look down, a little girl looked up at you, half hiding behind your sheets, she was wearing a black faded black sabbath shirt that didn’t belong to her, the seam of it well past her knees, white socks on her feet, her hair was black and curly, half hiding her eyes.

“Oh. Hi.” You smiled at her, the sweetest tone you could fathom came out of your lips. She became shy for a second, as she grabbed one of your clothes pins and handed it to you. “Thank you, buddy.” You smiled as you grabbed it, placing it on top of one of your cushion covers, even if it didn’t need an extra one. “You’ll get your socks dirty.” You point out.

She smiled in a shy manner, covering her face with her hands as she nodded.

“Bug?” She turned around as soon as she heard his voice. Her arms went up, demanding to be held by him. “There you are!” He had a soft and playful tone, as he grabbed her.

You felt stuck there for a second. He was tall, with curly dark hair, strong decorated by tattoos arms that flex when he held her, close to his chest. The same smile she seemed to have was imprinted on his face. It’s not that he is attractive -which he undeniably is- but he seems to shine, in a beautiful light, warmer than the sun.

“I’m sorry if she annoyed you, we were playing hide and seek.” His words come out way too quicker than he had wanted them to, with an apologetic look on his face as he swayed his body, her giggles invading the space between you.

“She didn’t, not at all.” You smiled at him, before looking back at her, she was giggling at you now, and a soft spot was found deep inside your heart. “She was helping me do laundry, actually.” You point out to the extra wood clothespin that she had given you.

“Oh, so you can help the pretty lady and not me?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, the infectious laughter growing louder and stronger as he holds his face closer to hers.

But you don’t really listen, the only thing in your mind right now is his voice calling you pretty.

pretty, pretty, pretty.

Your cheeks become warmer, pinker.

As soon as he notices, he realises what he had said.

He had called you pretty before even introducing himself. He feels like a fool, he meets a pretty girl and is only focused on the one in his arms.

He tries to fix it, a soft grin dedicated to you as a nervous scoff leaves his lips.

You don’t really mind the silence, or the opportunity to look at him, and his dark chocolate eyes, but you have the impulse to tell him your name, and you do, with an upside down smile that passes down to him.

“I’m Eddie.” He says in return, grabbing your hand not thinking much of it, though he didn’t think he’d feel a sort of sparks as soon as your hand met his. To be fair, neither did you. “This little bug is Lua.” He adds, as he lets go of your hand, slowly, so his fingers can tickle her again, making her giggle once more, her tiny hands grabbing his hair in a playful manner.

“Hi Lua.” It’s not that your voice comes out shy, but the high pitched baby voice makes your tone come out with a bit of a treble, as if nervousness that she wouldn’t like you took over. “Thanks for helping me with laundry.” You add, as she hides, pushing her face against Eddie’s chest, the pureness of that gesture makes your smile wider.

If you weren’t so focused on Lua’s reactions, you would have caught Eddie lost into you, as he had never experienced such kindness or softness from someone that wasn’t already close.

He was used to the stares, and the silent judgment from everyone, way before Lua came into his life, and mostly it came from people around his age, or way older. His constant thought behind a string of ‘shut up grandpa’ and ‘go back to your retirement home’ that he never said out loud. The world could be mean, but he would never let her little girl know that. At least not yet.

He wasn’t used to this though.

A kind stranger, around his age, that doesn’t really judge, and interacts in a playful manner with her. It was more than he could fathom.

“‘r welcome.” Lua mumbled as she looked up from her hiding spot for a second, before burying herself back into his arms.

Eddie’s heart felt full for a moment. Lua wasn’t used to strangers, and she didn't really like to talk out loud to people she wasn’t used to. Though these days she was only used to uncle Way and Stevie, or aunt Rob. So seeing her, not only talking back after you told her something, but having seen her approach you out of her own will, it made his mind stop worrying for just a second. Lua’s social ability was just as good as his in that moment.

The thought made him smile to himself.

“We should check if our’s is done.” He mumbled to Lua’s ear as he started swinging his chest again, hugging her tightly as he felt how she was starting to get heavier. “That way you can stop wearing dada’s shirt.” He looked attentive at your face, waiting for your reaction.

He felt better when he didn’t see nothing but a compassionate smile.

Eddie was also used to people thinking he wasn’t the dad, maybe an uncle, maybe an older brother. Eddie was also used to people opening their eyes wide as soon as they hear dad when referred to him.

But you didn’t.

Truth be told, it did shock you a bit. But the little girl was a carbon copy of him. The same wide smile and wild hair. And the world was mean and complicated enough, you didn’t need to make it harder for someone you had just met.

“We’ll see you around?” He asks, with a hopefulness on his voice that you’re not too sure what it means, or what you actually want it to mean.

“Yeah, I moved in a while ago so…” He nodded as he pointed at the little trailer right in front of yours.

“That’s us.”

“Way!” Lua blurted out as she looked back at where she called home, and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle and give her a kiss on her temple.

“Yes! And uncle Wayne too.” You noticed that his tone is sweeter, calmer and a bit higher when he talks to the little girl on his arms than when he talks to you. “If you ever need anything…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, the end of it implied, and you’re left nodding, telling him that if they ever need anything you’re here too, waving bye to Lua as she looks over Eddie’s shoulder, her little hand waving back.

You finish hanging your laundry dry, as you think about what just happened.

You had finally made friends that weren’t work related, and one of them was a baby. You sort of chuckle to yourself. It felt stupid, but it also felt good, knowing someone here, and that someone being nice, and kind.

It felt as if you were finally on the right path.

“Bug, please?” Eddie whined for the fourth time, while Lua was still on the higher part of the couch, looking out the window.

She shook her head again, Wednesdays were always the longest days in the Mudson household. Eddie took another big breath, while he looked at his wrist watch once again, afraid he’ll be late if he doesn’t leave soon.

“Okay… You can either stay here with uncle Way, or you can come with dada to the garage. Please?” He bargained, for the last time, begging to some higher power she’ll climb down the sofa.

He could scream out of excitement once she finally did.

“friend?” She asked, in a mumble as she pointed out of the door.

She had been doing that for a while now, ever since Eddie had found Lua in your yard, she kept asking to go see you, for some reason that escaped Eddie’s mind, her little girl seemed to have an infatuation with you.

Eddie sat down on the floor now, and Lua started walking closer to him, he laughed in defeat as she giggled, her little steps approaching him.

“Once I get back from work, deal?”

Eddie held his hand out, waiting for her to shake it as she usually did when she knew she had won whatever she wanted -which happened frequently- but accepted with glee once she tried to hug him, with her usual clumsiness. Her arms not quite reaching the back of his neck until he helped her up.

He enjoyed this little moment.

Holding her close while nothing else was going on. A long day ahead of him that he wasn’t totally ready for, but then again he wasn’t really ready for a lot of things that he ended up being capable of.

Wayne’s steps broke the small intimate moment.

“You made a friend, Lua?” He asked as she giggled at the sight of him, even if he still was half asleep, Wayne always seemed to have more than enough energy for her.

“She did.”

“Who?”

“New girl.” Eddie nodded at the trailer that could be seen through their window.

“Huh.” Wayne had never been a man of many words, but the way his facial expression changed usually left nothing to the imagination. In this case, it was a warning. An overprotective warning.

“She seems nice. Lua approached her.” She smiled, as she always did when she heard her own name. Eddie knew that she liked to be included, no matter what. Maybe that’s why he tried so hard.

“You did?” Wayne’s eyes opened wider, as he squatted down to meet her eye level, she wobbled her way into him, as she giggled once again. She had a secret power, or at least that’s what Eddie thought, to make everyone happy.

“Friend!” She said again, pointing at where she had last seen you.

“Okay bug, see you in a bit?”

“Lo you.” She muttered as she waved bye, Eddie’s heart warmer as he opened the door and blew her a kiss.

“Love you too, bug.” Eddie opened the door, stopping on the frame as he always did, checking his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed with him.

“Kid, if you plan on going over, make sure she’s okay with it. Not a lot of people are.” It was another warning, his left eyebrow raised, his tone sharper. Eddie just nodded.

And before he knew it, he was already on your door, knocking and hoping you’re actually home.

You were, and the nocks on your door wake you up. You had always been a light sleeper. You found your way out of your bed, and you didn’t care if your hair was a bit knotted than usual, messier or that your eyes were still adjusting to the light creeping through your windows. You opened the door and there he was. Tall, handsome Eddie, in his washed up jeans and his white shirt that had some small car grease marks on it. His opened blue short sleeve shirt with the little name tag made you smile internally.

“Sorry.” He muttered, as soon as you made eye contact with him.

He took a second, you stood there, sleep still present on your face and overall demeanor, but what caught his attention -even if he tried not to- were your naked legs, barely covered by an oversized shirt that you evidently used as a sleep shirt. Still, you looked pretty, he thought. He also felt bad that he had woken you up.

“S’kay. Morning.” You half joked as you smiled up at him, your head resting against the door frame, your arms crossed over your chest, the air making you feel a bit colder than you were deep in your sheets.

“Yeah, morning.” He was left speechless. He wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden he wished he hadn’t knocked. So you could be resting, being face to face with you, he could see the little bags under your eyes, and he imagined how much you were enjoying getting to sleep in.

“You knocked to tell me good morning?” If you hadn’t had a smile on your lips, or your voice wasn’t as sweet and soft as it was, Eddie would have felt even worse. When in reality it made you inexplicably happy that he was the reason you had woken up.

“No, yeah, sorry.” He chuckled in a nervous manner once again. “Uh, Lua has been asking for you, and uh… I’m done at work early today, and if it’s not too weird and if it’s okay we could come for a bit after, don’t worry if you don’t feel like it i-”

“I’d love that.” You cut his nervous and anxious rambling off. “I’m free today, so I can go pick up some things for her?”

Eddie relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his smile finally appearing.

While you had to try hard to hide your excitement.

“You don’t have to…”

“Shut up. She deserves it.”

Even if you weren’t aware of it, that was the best thing you could have said to him. But truth be told, you were actually excited, you had been thinking about him, and the promise of a new friendship since you had met him, so this? It felt like the perfect excuse.

“What time were you thinking?”

“Uh, I dunno, my shift ends at around six, so maybe…”

“I’ll have snacks ready by six then, don’t worry.”

He was way more thankful than he could express, but he tried his best anyway.

“Thank you princess, it means a lot. Truly.” That nickname rang in your ears for a while, the same way it did when he had called you pretty. It was made obvious that you had liked it by the way you were starting to blush.

“Don’t worry Edds.” You stayed just like you were for a second longer. Looking at him, and the way his dimples were showing when he smiled as wide as he did, and a spark in his eyes he seemed to reserve for you. “Hope you have a good day at work.”

He was the one blushing now, and the one he was left with the way you had called him Edds, the sound of your voice present on his ears for a while after he had started driving. It wasn’t until he arrived at the garage, when he realised he was smiling at nothing, like an idiot.

You might have gone a bit overboard.

You had gone into town, and before you knew it your fridge was now filled with various juices and milk. The good ones that you usually didn’t buy for yourself. You had thought about baking a cake, but you ended up deciding that that felt too much as a birthday type of treat, so you went for your comfort recipe.

The cookie dough was already done, and you were chopping up the chocolate bar into smaller bits. You hated dark chocolate, so milky sweet one was the only acceptable one.

Morrisey’s voice kept you company as you mutter along the lyrics.

You looked over your little home, you had cleaned, deeply. Afraid that Eddie would judge you, or that Lua would somehow hurt herself or something could happen to her. You tend to do that, over worrying about things you can’t really control.

Then again, Eddie was doing the same thing.

A quick shower, fresh clothes, and hair almost dry. Lua looked up at him with excitement, as he tried to find something else for her to wear. She had a tendency to steal his shirts when he wasn’t there, in an attempt to be close to him, or at least that’s what he thought. So the negotiation began.

“Bug, which one?” On his left hand he had a light blue dress that Joyce gave him a few years ago, on his right he had a newer pair of overalls. She stood there, shaking her head as she hugged the shirt she was already wearing. “You need to get dressed if you want to go see your new friend, bug.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, as soon as she realised they were going to see you, she pointed at the overalls and had no issue getting ready.

Thank god for you, he thought. It had never been that easy, normally Lua hated changing clothes, especially when she was already comfortable. But this time, she didn’t only do it, she helped, and was excited to.

Lua wasted no time, her hands hitting your door as hard as she could, which resulted in soft knocks you still heard.

“Hi.” She beamed up at you, holding her arms open for you, her voice higher than you remembered. It might be her childish excitement, or at least that’s what you think.

“Hi Lua.” You met her level of excitement as you squatted down so you could meet her, her arms trying to hug you, waiting for you to help her get up so she could do it. Used to this type of hug with her dad.

Speaking of, Eddie was speechless. Mainly because Lua doesn’t really hug people that are not him, or Wayne. Steve maybe had gotten two or three hugs, she usually blew kisses. Also he wasn’t sure if you actually wanted them there, or were just being nice, but that doubt went away as soon as he heard your voice, and saw the way you smiled at her.

He also was pretty sure that he could smell cookie dough.

Lua found her way in, passing you by as you greeted Eddie. She didn’t have time to waste, her curiosity always winning. In her defense, your house was full of colour, and she wasn’t used to it. Every pillow was a different colour, and they were everywhere. Your couch was green, which she didn’t even know that was a possibility. Your walls had photos, and posters, and drawings. She had so much to look at she was grinning from ear to ear, laughing as she moved around.

Eddie did the same, in a more discrete manner. He found his way in the middle of your living room, he looked at the stacked shelves, they were full to the brim, various fantasy books that he recognised -mainly because he had already read them- cassette tapes and vinyls also shared a big portion of space. He smiled to himself everytime he knew a group that you seemed to like. Your vhs collection also caught his eye. You, on the other hand, were left there, holding your hands in an anxious manner, not too sure what to do now. Seeing how father and daughter act the same in different ways.

“You’re listening to the Smiths?” He asked, once he caught on to what was playing.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll uh… turn it off.” You became embarrassed, knowing that probably he didn’t like that type of music, or maybe it was too loud. Eddie smiled, shaking his head no.

“No, it’s fine. Lua likes them, that’s all.” You looked down at her, and relaxed once you saw her dancing along. She was moving up and down, kind of in tune with the music.

The little timer started, letting you know that the cookies were now done.

“Lua, you like cookies?” She didn’t even need to say anything, her eyes opened as she heard the word, she walked next to you, Eddie following closely.

He grabbed her up, letting her sit down on the counter. He was grateful all the trailers were the same, that way he knew -kinda- where everything was.

“Carefull, bug. It’s hot.”

“Hot.” She repeated, pointing at the baking sheet that you took out, fresh golden chocolate chips came out. “For me?”

“Well, not all of them.” Eddie answered, with an amused tone in her voice that made you chuckle in response.

“We have to wait for them to cool down a bit.” You told her as you placed them on a plate, the tips of your fingers slightly burning.

“Why?” Her eyes opened in wonder, not really following you.

“‘Cause when they’re too warm, they can give you a belly ache.” You explained to her, earnest in your tone, as you touched your own stomach.

“Only five minutes, bug.” Lua turned around, looking at Eddie with a confused look. “You can wait five minutes right?” She looked at him, slowly. You couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing the way they share the same look between them.

You were on the couch.

Eddie didn’t count it as cuddling, not really.

You were just sitting down next to him, his arm brushing yours, as you both looked between the T.V that was playing ‘Arthur and the Stone ’- you had a tendency to collect VHS, and the style and drawings had pulled you to buy it. You didn’t have an excuse until now to watch it, so you were just enjoying it as much as Lua did- and the little one, who was enamored by the story, while she colored in one paper lazily.

Eddie had become a bit too comfortable. His body feeling heavier, warmer, he was on the verge of falling asleep. That same feeling shot sirens on his head. This felt too nice, too normal, too usual. He could get used to this, and that wasn’t good.

He didn’t really know you.

Eddie knew where you lived, how your living room looked, that you worked almost everyday -though he still didn’t know where-, and that you were incredibly nice. And sweet.

Eddie also knew that Lua trusted you, and for now, that was enough.

It was enough that you had taken time out of your day so you could bake them cookies, or buying the expensive juice that you had taken them in as if they had always belonged there.

Lua giggled and Eddie’s eyes opened, seeing how she was pointing at the T.V when the boy turned into a squirrel, and the way she looked up at you, wanting to see your reaction. He was happy, more than he had been in a while.

You were sinking deeper into the cushions. Deeper into him and this familiarity. You could get used to this, but you weren’t unsure if you should. You enjoyed spending time with them, and this was fun, but then again, it was scary. It scared you, the thought of it going wrong, or you doing something you weren’t supposed to, it was a bit too much.

While you were sitting down there, with him that close, his smell lingering in the air, his warmness by your side, the risk of this crush evolving into something else was too much.

You didn’t care. Not at all.

Neither did Eddie. Not even a little bit.

part 2 is up!

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