Tumgik
#EDDIE'S JACKET IS SO PERFECT FOR THIS
daincrediblegg · 2 years
Note
EDDIE WHO EGG????
You know which eddie. The Inescapable Eddie. The Beloved. The Bemourned. The Banished.
Tumblr media
12 notes · View notes
marriedtobigfoot · 1 year
Text
Robin is positive that Steve isn't straight. At first, she thought she was projecting. Maybe she just wanted to share another aspect of herself with her best friend, but no. She's very confident now. The way Steve acts sometimes makes it so obvious. He's listened to her talk about how scary it is, being a lesbian in a town like Hawkins, and he talks to her about it like he undertands, even if he doesn't realize it. She roped him into watching a movie with a gay couple in it, and Steve's eyes lit up seeing two men kiss on screen. He once cracked a joke about going on a date with a guy that sounded far too sincere to be a joke. She knows, deep in the depths of her very soul, that Steve is a little bit queer.
And she could prove it if she could just figure out what his type is
She's been doing research, real genuine research into what male celebrities are considered hot. Finding movies with said supposedly hot men and making Steve watch them with her. But there's nothing! No reaction, not even the slightest blush when Harrison Ford was sweaty and shirtless right before his eyes. It isn't until she gets him to watch Rocky Horror that she finally catches something. Tim Curry in all his fishnet-clad glory brings a flush to Steve's cheeks. One that gets even worse when the character dons a leather jacket halfway through. It isn't much, but it's enough.
She mentally tallys everything about Tim Curry in that movie. Dark eyes, curls, makeup, tights, and especially the leather. She tries not to get her hopes up too high, knows that Tim Curry was wearing feminine clothes and makeup in the movie, so maybe Steve was just thrown off and confused, but it's a start at least. She makes a new list of movies, and pays close attention to his reactions.
The real breakthroughs come with The Lost Boys and The Breakfast Club. Lost Boys had been planned, one of her choices designed to illicit a response from Steve. Lots of pretty boys, some with dark curly hair, some with big dark eyes, and quite a few wearing leather jackets. Steve had been interested, that was for sure, a lot more than he had in the other movies she'd shown him. The Breakfast Club was a surprise. It had been one of Steve's picks, and Robin hadn't even been paying close attention. But it was impossible to miss the way Steve's eyes shot to the screen every time John Bender was speaking.
So, Robin has an answer. Steve Harrington liked bad boys. Men with dark hair and dark eyes, clad in leather with attitude for miles. Not what she had been expecting, but she's delighted, to say the least.
The delight only grows when Eddie Munson comes into their lives, and she gets a front row seat to Steve Harrington's Big Gay Meltdown. Eddie ticks off all Steve's boxes. Dark curly hair, big brown doe eyes, leather and denim from head to toe, and he has the attitude. But he checks off other boxes too, ones Robin hadn't even realized existed. He checks off the 'great big nerd' box. Because when she thinks about it, yes. Steve surrounds himself with exclusively nerds. He checks off the 'good with kids' box effortlessly, to the point that Robin almost screams when she hears Steve telling Nancy about his six kids and a winnebago dream, because Eddie basically already has part-time custody of Steve's weird gaggle of gremlin children. He tickes off the 'queer as fuck' box too, if Robin's judgement is any good, and she was pretty sure it was. The bandana in his pocket seems like a pretty good sign, if the zines she had smuggled on a family trip to Indy were to be trusted.
Eddie Munson is perfect for Steve, in every way possible, Robin is sure of it. So needless to say, shes thrilled when Steve finally, FINALLY pulls her into the crappy little bathroom at Family Video and asks her how she realized she was gay. This is going to be the start of a beautiful little journey for them both, Robin is going to welcome it with open arms.
Part 2
6K notes · View notes
edenavari · 2 months
Text
On the Matter of Mirrors
Eddie is still trying to convince Steve he and Nancy are made for each other. It comes up, like, everytime they hang out, which is all the time, because Steve couldn’t stay away if he wanted to. He doesn’t, but he also wishes Eddie would quit trying to set him up with someone else. 
‘Cause, like, here’s the thing. Steve likes girls. He also, he realized sometime after Robin came out to him, quite likes boys. He likes Eddie. Like… Really likes him. Practices pick-up lines in front of the mirror kind of like. Wears a little more black and tousles his hair just right to give himself a subversive edge he never used to have, just the right amount to trigger a subconscious response without appearing to be tweaking his fashion sense at all. Has mastered the art of wearing eyeliner without looking like he’s wearing it, and it took him a fucking while to work up the nerve to go out like that, not that anyone but Robin noticed. 
But Eddie just will not drop the Nancy case, no matter how many times Steve tries to stir the conversation away from her, and between his budding crush and the crushing fear that it’s never gonna be anything but one-sided, between the slightest of sore spots Steve still sports about the way things with Nancy ended in the first place and the bitter edge of never managing for something to start with Eddie after weeks of efforts, it’s beginning to grate, right? 
“So what’s the problem?” Eddie insists, bounding circles around Steve like an eager puppy, and something in Steve’s ribcage snaps. 
They’re in Steve’s room studying when it comes up once a-fucking-gain. Eddie is taking accelerated summer classes so he can finally graduate by September, and by some inexplicable fuckery of fate, despite Steve’s own dirt poor records, he’s turning out to be a decent tutor. Something about Eddie managing to focus in a way a classroom environment never allowed him to. Maybe because most teachers and over half the student body were openly hostile at worst and aggressively ignoring Eddie at best, all because of his last name or his tattoos or his loud brassy cheek.
All the same, Eddie does get distracted fairly easily, and an hour in, he’s bounced off the bed and started rattling reasons Nancy Wheeler is definitely Steve Harrington’s soulmate. Steve groans noncommittally, gets up to grab his water from the desk and takes a long swallow as Eddie keeps needling him. 
“You’re the problem, Eddie,” he all but snarls, when he really meant it to come out exasperated at worst.
He snarls, though, and Eddie stiffens, his eyes going cold and hurt and the corner of his mouth turned down in anger. 
“Right,” he says, and it sounds so casual Steve thinks he won’t make a big deal of his tone after all. Fool’s hope. “I’ll get out of your perfect hair, then,” Eddie spits out as he makes for the door, only Steve stands in his way, hands up in surrender. 
“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” he starts. 
“No, you’re right, it’s none of my business,” Eddie interrupts, but he steps back, gesturing wildly as he speaks. “It’s not like we’re even friends, you just got saddled with me because of Dustin. We saved the world together? Big deal! My involvement was incidental, really, more of an inconvenience than any kind of help. Why would you want my opinion, of all people’s, right? Even by this point. Get out of my way, I’ll quit stepping on your toes. Go on!”
“I don’t want you to go, Eddie,” Steve tries again. 
“Just want me to shut up, is that it? Not really my strong suit, you might have noticed.”
Steve can’t help smiling. “I have noticed.”
It only seems to rile Eddie up even more, throwing his hands out and making to step around Steve again. “Man, what do you want from me?”
“Is this allowed?” he breathes out, extending the last word beyond its scope. 
Which puts him within reaching distance of Steve, who grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and presses him, careful not to jostle him too bad but firm enough to counter his manic strength, against the wall. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just presses a touch too close, lets himself imagine that he’s going to close the distance entirely, cocks his head and licks his lips and hangs there in a way he hopes spells it out for Eddie without inducing any kind of panic. 
Eddie, hands still up at shoulder height, lets out a little huff close to a whimper when his back hits the wall, bracing himself for a hit that would never come, and maybe some part of him knows this, because he doesn’t look scared or angry anymore, just kind of confused with a side of grief, and it doesn’t take two seconds for him to start to look intrigued, maybe even, if Steve allows himself a little optimism, interested. 
His lips part on a sharp inhale, and they’re close enough to smell each other’s skin, and Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s mouth, a little watery and out of focus, edging forward in a way that could just be a twitch, just a consequence of holding his breath the way he is, plausibly deniable, subconscious no doubt, only when Steve mirrors the movement, he does it again, gaze moving up and down from Steve’s eyes to his lips and back and back again without blinking, until twitch by twitch their noses graze and their mouths connect and Steve closes his eyes and concentrates on maintaining that seal over Eddie’s plush, pliable pout, because if he didn’t focus, he’d be way, way overeager for a first kiss. 
He moves back after several seconds with a shaky exhale, swallows as he finds Eddie’s eyes again. His blood is thrumming in his fingertips, somehow he feels both cold between his shoulder blades and warm down to his toes, and if Eddie looks at all put out he thinks he might never manage another mirror in his life. 
The look on Eddie’s face is pure disbelief. 
Steve shrugs, not quite settled on the matter of mirrors. “I thought you made a point of breaking the rules?”
A glint starts to wake in Eddie’s eye that’s looking more delighted by the minute. 
“Just as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“We’re in the clear, then,” Steve whispers, leaning in, just a smidge. 
Both of Eddie’s hands sink into his hair as he pulls him into another, much steamier, kiss. Steve lets his fists fall from Eddie’s lapels and knot over his back instead, lets his mouth drop slightly open, an invitation Eddie wastes not a second to follow through on, teeth scraping and back arching like he wants to sink all the way into Steve, and by the time they’re parting, breathless, cheeks flushed, mouths stinging, Steve’s one hand is braced against the wall, holding himself up, knees too weak to do the job on their own. 
“I thought you could barely stand me,” Eddie heaves.
“I can’t,” Steve admits. “You drive me nuts. Just not how you thought.”
Eddie frowns, suddenly serious. 
“You should forget all about Nancy.”
Steve frowns too. “That so?”
“Hm-mm. She’s taken, man. And not all that. You need to move on.”
“Damn,” Steve sighs. “Am I being desperate?”
“Pathetic,” Eddie nods, barely a whisper against Steve’s lips, and they break into smiles in tandem. “Forget all about her,” Eddie repeats. 
“Who?” Is the last word Steve gets out. Then he’s busy enough he really does forget. 
When he fixes his hair in the bathroom mirror in the morning, he walks away with a wink.
Give us a kudos, if ye dare x
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 1 year
Text
𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
part one | part two | part three | part four
summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue the movies, nachos, cherry cough syrup, and a couple of moments of clarity. [10k]
warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!! tw sick fic
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Eddie has the most peculiar curl tucked up by his neck. Where most are frizzy and loose, this one falls in a perfect shiny ringlet below his ear. He shifts and it's out of view, a curtain of dark hair falling forward and hiding his face as he puts your car in park. 
"Remind me why you had to drive?" you ask, ducking down to look at the glaring white lights of the movie theatre across the street. 
"You were gonna fall asleep behind the wheel." 
For once, Eddie might not be exaggerating. He grins at your lack of rebuttal and throws an arm behind your shoulders, twisting in the driver's seat to set his sights on Junie. 
"Are you ready?" he asks her. 
She wiggles. It's an ecstatic movement. Her clothes are prim and sweet if you do say so yourself, a long sleeved shirt under a pair of the world's cutest dungarees. They crinkle as she moves, pressed to perfection. 
You and Eddie open opposite doors in tandem and step out into the brisk, early night. The sidewalk shines with rain, a black slickness stretching in every direction. You shiver and pull your thin jacket tighter to your torso as you turn back to the car, intending to retrieve Junie and rush into the theatre before you can freeze on the spot. 
Eddie's already swung open the door and rescued your daughter from the confines of her car seat, neatening up the hem of one of her socks with her face pushed over his shoulder. 
She giggles about something and Eddie says, "Sorry, June. 'M tickling you, am I?" so fondly you have to avert your eyes. 
He locks the car and hands over your keys with a smile. You smile back, heart flipping like a spinning coin. Head over tails, over and over. 
The big, ring-heavy hand he holds to Junie's back reaches for you suddenly enough that you flinch.
"I'm sorry," he apologises, suppressing a laugh, "your necklace is twisted." 
He moves in a second time and you raise your chin, chest aflame as his fingers glance off of your bare skin. He slips the chain over his index and pulls, encouraging the links around until the clasp is hidden again. 
"Thank you." You huff an awkward, sheepish laugh.
"You owe me," he says, mock-severe. 
Your laugh is much more genuine as you follow him across the road. 
You're squinting as you approach The Hawk movie theatre. The title cards are hard to look at, aggressively white with black capital letters that read, 'The Great Mouse Detective 7'. 
There's a small line of families waiting by the front. You realise it like a shock, that the three of you must look like a family too. 
Eddie carries Junie with the surety of a dad that's carried his child a hundred times before; he strokes the back of her head with the affection of one, soothing the mess of flyaways she'd acquired by squirming in her car seat. Junie responds with familiarity, hands tucked into his hair and tugging. She's trying to be nice but his hair won't allow it, all his long curls tangled at the ends from a day at work. 
Still, he says, "Thanks, baby. Make sure you get the back, okay?" 
"Okay," she echoes. 
You look down at your wringing hands. There's ink smudged up the side of your writing hand. You scratch at it half-heartedly, blinking against your fatigue. 
You're exhausted tonight and it's only Wednesday. You can't imagine how you'll fare tomorrow considering how little sleep you're expecting tonight — there are a thousand things to do when you get home. Laundry to wash and press, cleaning to do, dinner to make. 
You'd been writing cheques for due bills when Eddie had come knocking, well-dressed, stupid-handsome, and announced that tonight you would be accompanying him to the movies. He'd actually said 'accompanying'. 
Despite a full agenda, you'd said yes. You're not very good at saying no. At least, not to him. 
It takes you a moment to realise you're at the front of the line. You pay for the tickets before Eddie can try it, and with his hands full he can't really stop you. He whines about it all the way to the concession stand. 
"You can buy the snacks," you say. His face lights up, and you amend, "If you're reasonable." 
"I'm always reasonable…ly over the top," he says, chided by your hard stare. 
"Yes, you are." 
He follows you down the two steps to the concession and cuts in front of you. "How did you do that? What face was that? I felt my soul leave my body." 
"That's my disapproving mom look. I'm disapproving." 
"Ah." He pats Junie's side sympathetically. 
She pulls her head from over his shoulder and smiles at you. Her arms vy for your hold. You steal her from Eddie and kiss her all over her tiny face, uplifted by how much she loves you, how happy she is to be in your arms. 
"What snacks do you want? Do you eat popcorn with butter? Without?" Eddie asks, his newly emptied arms already posed thoughtfully, a hand under his chin as he thinks over his options. 
The theatre has a huge array of jellies, an even bigger array of candy bars. There are more brands of soda than there are glasses in your kitchen cabinet. 
You're daunted. 
"Whatever you want," you say.
Eddie groans and tips his head back. "Don't play with me like this. Butter or no butter? It's an easy question." 
"I don't know. Without?" 
"You are so weird," he says happily. 
You pout and pull Junie closer. 
Standing at the side while he gathers concessions, too many things, you watch in awe as Eddie stacks it all against his chest with the sure confidence of someone who's done it before.
He grins at you from between two huge cups. "Are we ready?"
If you could, you'd leave him here in the foyer with his jumbo deluxe popcorn. As it stands, you like him too much to leave him behind. You juggle Junie and your bag to push open the doors for him outside of screen two. 
"Thanks, babe," he says outside of screen two. You bite your lip, surprised by his easy tone. 
You climb up the stairs and into your seats. You're high enough for Junie to sit in her own chair between you and Eddie and see the screen comfortably but she adamantly refuses, stretching out in your lap like an alley cat hungry for affection. 
Eddie moves into the ragtag velvet seat beside you, a million things in his lap and at your feet. He's pretty enough under the theatre lights to dull the panging ache at the back of your head. "If she won't sit here, I will. I got you a lemonade, is that cool?" 
If it weren't you'd hardly tell him. 
"She's being extremely well-behaved," Eddie notes, an inkling of pride in his tone. 
You could sucker punch him. Why does he do this to you? 
"I know," you say with a shy smile, "it's suspicious, isn't it?" 
"I don't know. If I were in your lap I might be well-behaved too." He raises his eyebrows, an over-exaggerated show of flirtatiousness. 
You reach over the arm to take a handful of popcorn. Eyes on Junie, you offer her your stolen goods and say, "I've got two thighs." 
"Don't tempt me." 
Junie all but snatches the popcorn and tilts her head back. A kernel falls from her hand and disappears between the seats. You make a mental note to pick it up afterward, ears full of her chomping. 
You'd worried she might be a little loud for the movies but there's a bunch of kids and none seem keen on keeping quiet, a cacophony of childish complaints to hide your conversation. 
"Are babies supposed to eat popcorn?" 
You freeze up. "Oh- I don't know," you say, turning Junie toward you so you can watch her swallow. 
"I thought I read that somewhere, but-" 
"No, I think you're right. Um…" Junie looks at you with obvious confusion. "Was that yummy?" you ask. You hide your concern with a strained bubbly attentiveness. 
"I guess she's old enough." 
Eddie's being very casual – it is casual. He's just thinking out loud. You know he's not criticising you. He never has, though sometimes you think he should. 
It must show on your face anyhow that you're having a 'I'm a bad mom' crisis. A mean stroke of insecurity.
"Sweetheart," Eddie says suddenly, brows pinched, "it's alright. It was just a thought. And she had no problem eating it, I'm sure she's gonna be aces. Better than aces." 
Junie climbs out of your lap and into his. He sets the popcorn on the floor to take her, and when her hands reach for his drink he holds the straw to her mouth. All the while his eyes move between her and you. 
"Okay," you say, because you're being silly. 
Junie is fine. Eddie was only saying something that's very well true. Babies aren't supposed to have popcorn, but June's not a baby, really. She knows how to chew properly. It's unlikely she'll choke. 
Eddie has to keep his focus on her to avoid getting soaked – she barely knows how to use a straw and keeps trying to turn the cup upside down. 
"Not like that, trouble. Right way up. You got it." 
You pick at the loose stitching at the end of your shirt and have to change the subject before the embarrassment of it all swallows you. Such a small thing. 
"Can I try one of these?" you ask, grabbing the first bag of candy you can find. They're a bag of Super Sour Suckers. 
He looks at you over Junie's head, startled and hiding it poorly. Then, a smile so bright it increases the embarrassment you're feeling tenfold.
"You have to! Robin said they're even worse than the normal ones, I don't wanna go through that alone," he says urgently. 
Robin is one of his friends. You're not jealous that he has friends (though you are, because you want your own, but not jealous that he has friends that aren't you). He's mentioned her in passing before. When you'd asked as bravely as you dared if they were anything more than friends he'd laughed maniacally.
"We're definitely just friends," he'd said.
You fight to stay smiling and pull open the bag of candies. Ironically, the jellies inside are shaped like pacifiers. Covered in sugar packed densely and looking almost wet with what you suspect to be citric acid, you shake the packet wearily and search for a candy that won't ruin your tongue.
Eddie holds out his hand. You drop a green one into his palm. Your fingertips ride up the curve of his thumb. 
He's unflinching as he eats it. After a few seconds his eyes screw up and he clutches June tight to his chest, raising an unhelpful hand to his jaw. 
"Holy sugar," he says, wincing. 
You bite into a pink pacifier unfortunately layered in sugar and wait nervously for the sourness to kick in. Sure enough, it comes quick and torturous. It's a knife cutting through fog. 
It's hard to feel tired when there's something this sour in your mouth.
"You can't spit it out!" Eddie says.
You stop with your hand halfway to your mouth. "What?" you ask incredulously, trying not to dribble. 
"You gotta eat it! Chew and swallow!" 
You chew miserably. He laughs at your expression – a warm and hyper sound, practically giggling. Junie joins in as she always does. His joy can't be overstated. 
The lights go down while you're still fighting for your life. Your eyes water and you have to smother the taste with a quick drink and a gasping breath. 
"You're sick. I can't believe you let me eat that," you whisper. 
"You saw me eat mine! You knew what you were getting into… Think June wants one?" 
Your outrage has him laughing again. It's a magnetic sound. Every time he does it you want to touch him, his arm one pole and your hand another. 
Junie gets comfortable on his right leg, head tipped expectantly against his chest and eyes drawn to the screen as the trailers begin. You don't bother with jealousy; in ten minutes she'll be climbing over the arm to sit with you again, or want to sit in her own seat. She may even try to walk around. Toddlers are indecisive and easily distracted. 
Even if she weren't. Even if she sat there in his lap for the next hour and a half and didn't look your way, you're not sure you could harbour any envy against him. His hand spreads over the front of her torso with fingers splayed against her ribs, stroking thoughtlessly through the fabric of her thick clothes.  
He tips his head toward your chair. "There's nachos." 
"I saw." 
"Wanna eat some before they get cold?" 
"Subtle." 
He snorts. "Yep. That's what they call me. Eddie Subtle Munson." 
You reach over the dark floor for the tray of nachos and balance them carefully on the armrest between your two seats. Eddie digs in without fuss, you fret over which ones have jalapeños on them, and Junie gets mad that nobody's sharing with her. She puts her hands straight in a mound of orange cheese. Her face is a picture when she brings it to her mouth. She's discovered molten gold. 
"Junie," Eddie says lightly, carding hair away from her ear so she can hear him properly. "Don't get cheese on your pretty clothes. It took your mom a week to get the rocky road out of your strawberry jammies, you know?" 
He doesn't care that she's mauled the food. He's worried she might stain her dungarees. Your heart goes crazy, another sudden surge of clarity.  
Junie climbs back into your own lap as the movie begins. You whisper to her about proper theatre etiquette in your mommy voice and she doesn't do too bad a job at listening. She finds the appearance of the Great Mouse Detective himself quite funny, and laughs at his grave features and expressions every now and then. It's a golden sound. 
Try as you might, you can't keep your eyes open. Junie's having such a good time and Eddie whispers funny commentary beside you, but eventually your eyelids creep shut and Eddie squeezes your arm, skin braceleted by his thick, warm fingers. 
-
"C'mere," Eddie prompts, hands vying for your daughter where she's perched in your lap. 
"Why?" Junie asks. 
He's surprised at her inquisition. "You don't want a hug?" 
She nods voraciously. Eddie lifts her off of your lap before she can use you as a climbing frame and into his own.
"I think mommy's sleeping," he tells her. 
Junie looks at you curiously. You've got a wet wipe in your limp hand, which he takes and discards, and your head's fallen to one side. You'll have an awesome crick in your neck when you wake up.
Junie gives him a hug. He loves her hugs. They're so small and sweet, she's genuinely an extremely loving little girl. Her smile when she hugs people is beautiful as yours is, though her affection is less hesitant. 
Everything's going well until she catches a look at the huge, scary bad guy Professor Ratigan somewhere in the middle. 
Eddie's crunching through a greedy mouthful of popcorn and almost chokes as she turns around and hides in his chest. He brings a hand up to her back protectively though he doesn't know what happened, eyes moving between her and the screen at lightning speed. 
"Aw, June," he murmurs sympathetically. He really is a scary looking guy. 
"Eddie," she says, dangerously close to tears. 
"Sweetheart, it's okay! He's only on TV." 
She says something that might be, "Don't want." It's not quite there but Eddie thinks she's doing a great job lately with her talking, patting her back in a silent well done as he attempts to reassure her. "Basil's gonna outsmart him, Junie. The Great Mouse Detective is gonna save the day, scout's honour." 
"No," she whines softly. 
He covers her unhappy face with his hand. 
"It's okay," he murmurs, melted and bemused. "It's okay, junebug. I swear." 
Despite his best efforts, she starts to cry. Eddie freezes up because she doesn't cry often, not with him. When she does you're always there to find a solution. He supposes the novelty of being a new person has long worn off, and that he's going to have to make more of an effort than just tickling her or petting her hair to make it better. 
Her volume increases. He shushes her, clumsy and awkward but earnest, trying the best that he can to make it up. He offers candies and drinks, he rummages through your baby bag for Mr. Bear. She takes it all but none of it lasts.
Someone in the chair behind him coughs pointedly. 
Eddie turns to wake you up. He gets one good look at your face and can't follow through. 
You're sleeping deeply, at the movie theatre of all places. How tired are you, and why hadn't you said? He'd known to some extent — it's why he'd offered to drive — but with the movie blaring and all the kids and noise and now Junie's crying, he realises you must be exhausted to sleep through it. Why hadn't he noticed? He kicks himself.
He lifts her up with his head angled down, giving your shoulder a swift squeeze and then bumping down the steps with Junie until he's out into the lights of the hallway. The door swings closed. 
It's oddly quiet and extremely bright. Junie stops crying to blink, and starts to cry again once she's adjusted. 
Eddie does not know what to do. It's a kick to his ego that he quickly accepts, though he does murmur a rueful, "Babe, I thought you liked me." 
Lost on deaf ears, his comment hangs in the air. 
He pats her back some more, wracking his brain for how you take care of her when she gets like this. Mostly, you're patient. You hum and you wait. Eddie tries to emulate you and your kind heart, walking her up and down the hall as he taps the bottom of her spine. 
"It's okay," he repeats. The more he says it the easier it feels. It is okay. He has to find a way to help June understand that, is all.
She grizzles. It's a long process. A couple of times he wonders if he's in over his head, if it's even his place, if he should wake you up and admit defeat. 
But Eddie Munson is trying to prove something. 
He works Mr. Bear out of Junie's iron grip and pinches his back taut so that his face and arms wiggle when he wants them to. 
"Baby June," he begins, in as gruff a voice as he can manage. He tries to channel his uncle's sternness, and his fondness. "Won't you quit crying? You're getting tears on the neck of your t-shirt and all over your cheeks." 
Junie quietens. She still cries, but the severity of the situation noticeably shifts. 
Eddie keeps on. "I got just the thing," he says, pushing Mr. Bear forward and making smacking sounds as he kisses both of her cheeks. "Gotta kiss these tears right off a'you." 
She laughs as Mr. Bear kisses her face dry and laughs some more when Eddie kisses the top of her head.
Eddie loves Junie. 
He knows it for a fact. 
She's very easy to love. She's beautiful as you are, she's loving, she's sweet. Her laugh is adorable and her smile is more. When she cries, Eddie finds he's never annoyed. Grated by the repetitive sound, maybe, but he can't find it in himself to be mad with her ever. He wants to help her work through it. To get you both through it. Eddie wants to be good at this.
He has Mr. Bear kiss Junie all over her face. 
"See?" Mr. Bear asks. "Isn't that better? No more tears, little girl, or we'll never see the end of the movie!" 
As Eddie says it, he wonders if taking her back into the theatre is a good idea. 
"Hey, junebug?" he says, all drama set aside. 
Junie lifts her flushed face. 
He smiles gratefully. "Do you wanna go back inside? Go check on mommy?" Leaving you by yourself doesn't exactly sit right with him.
Ah, there's the face he was expecting. Puzzlement, surprise. Junie frowns at him and looks over his shoulder, her own, searching the empty hallway for you and finding only reflective floor lights and patterned carpet. 
Eddie starts back into the screen room before she can cry over your being missing, chatting quietly but in a way that commands her attention. He's effective in the art of distraction if nothing else.  
The mouse detective and his friends have defeated Professor Ratigan, though Eddie shields Junie's head from the screen in case he's thinking about making a comeback, finding his way back to you in the dark. He picks over other people's snacks and then the abundance of your own, finding you still sound asleep. The sight doesn't spell good tidings. 
"Here she is," Eddie tells Junie, "here's mom. You wanna give her a kiss?" 
He sits down in his seat and squishes a bag of gummy worms under his boot. Junie immediately bends over the armrest and grabs at your front. You'd worried to him once that she had separation anxiety, and Eddie didn't know anything about it to agree or not. This display makes him think she might. She's clinging to you, desperately wanting your attention. 
Eddie winces as she grabs your face. She's obviously not trying to be cruel, hand stroking over your cheek as you'd stroke hers. 
"Mom," she whispers, the action itself enough to get Eddie laughing. Her version of whispering is almost like a character in a pantomime. 
He doesn't laugh for very long. You're not easy to wake up. Junie squishes your cheek and tries again. "Mommy," she says.
You groan in your sleep and your eyes scrunch together. "What?" you murmur finally, voice scratchy. 
"You're missing the movie," Eddie says, patting your thigh. 
Your arms come to life before you do. You wrap them around Junie's short torso and encourage her up your chest until you can nose at the top of her head. You rub slow lines, a steady back and forth. Eddie would bet money you don't have a clue in the world where you are. 
"S'loud," you complain. Your voice is weak with sleep. 
Junie looks at Eddie weirdly. He suspects it's her way of asking him to help out without asking. 
He tenses his hand where it rests at your thigh. "Do you wanna go home?" 
You don't answer. You go limp under his touch and Junie's weight, nose and lips set in a frown but otherwise near languid. 
Eddie's small (and alarmingly ever-present) worry for you multiplies by a hundred. 
He grabs up a bag of chips and entices your daughter back onto his thigh. She digs through half the bag as the movie draws to a finish, distracted if not happy, her face and fingers swiftly flaked in corn dust. The lights are thrown up and the noise is immense, a hundred pairs of shoes over tipped popcorn, babies and young kids unsettled, their parents eager to head home and watch their own movies no doubt. 
Eddie can't say he'd really watched the film besides precursory glances, his focus on you and your fidgety offspring. He'd been excited to tell you about his Junie success, but now he just wants to get you home.
He says your name as clearly as he can, his hand finding its way to your thigh for the third time. He rubs down toward your knee and gives your leg a shake. 
Junie climbs off of his own. Now the lights are on she can see the grand assortment of snacks laid out before her, and she seems eager to try them all. 
You eventually, thankfully rouse, you drag a palm over your eyes and cross your legs, squishing his hand in the process. He steals it back.
"Babe, you gotta get up. The attendants are looking at us funny. I think they think I've run you ragged, and while the dad tag doesn't bother me, 'cruel husband' doesn't suit me." 
"What?" you ask. 
He shrugs. "Junie pissed her pants." 
Your eyes open, lashes parting clumsily. You move like the air around you has turned to glue and moan in a quiet display of agony as your neck clicks. "She leaked through?"
"Nah, I'm messing with you. Movie's done. Getting some weird stares." 
You're quiet, but you shrug on your jacket and Eddie packs what he can of the leftover candy into your bag. He swings it over his shoulder. 
"You wanna come up?" he asks Junie. 
She raises both arms. 
You stand on shaky legs. Eddie stations Junie on one hip with one arm wrapped around her and holds out the other. You let him fold you up into his side.
"You okay?" he asks. 
Your face drops into his shoulder. "I'm so tired." 
"You're alright to walk out to the car?" 
His worry is like a rubber band. You snap to attention, disengage from his hold. It's a foreign and really uncomfortable feeling to see you out of sorts. 
Eddie walks behind you with a hand nearly but not touching your back. If you topple, he's not sure how he's gonna save you. Determined anyways, he guards you down the hollow stairs and through the hallway, one step behind you. 
It's a cool, crisp night outside. 
The smell of rain sticks around. You lift your chin. It's much colder now that night's fallen. The breeze kisses your damp skin. When did you start sweating? 
He presses his hand to your shoulders and guides you across the road. 
Junie starts her lovely babbling in his ear. "Mouse 'tective," she says at one point. You don't react, affirming his theory: you're more than tired. You're sick. 
"Mouse detective," he agrees, arm around your shoulder to assuage his own worries as he gives Junie the best of his attention. "You liked that one, huh?" Besides the evil Professor. "Better than the Muppets in New York? Junebug, you little traitor. How easily your favour changes." 
"Are you surprised? She took to you like," — you yawn wide enough that Eddie feels it under his arm, a full body thing — "a duck to water." 
He beams, relieved to hear your voice. "Yeah, well, I'm special." 
"That's true."
Eddie walks you around to the passenger side and opens your door. 
"Flirting! Awesome. You're not too sick to forget how much of a catch I am. Watch your head." 
"I gotta do Junie's straps," you say. 
"I think I can do it by now."
He's only sort of bluffing. It takes him much longer than it would've taken you. He celebrates his win by pinching her cheek lightly and then whacking his head hard on the roof of your car. 
"Fuck," he mutters as he jogs around the hood, scrubbing at the back of his head. 
You're staring at him as he opens the door. 
He puts the baby bag in your lap and shoves the key in the ignition, trying not to buckle under the weight of your gaze. He cracks quicker than he should, hand paused in its action.
"What?" 
"You tryna give yourself a concussion?" 
"Kiss it better?" 
You kiss the tip of your finger and touch it to his head. It's an instant healing potion. 
Getting you both home is easy enough, it's the trying to leave that's hard. You collapse heavily into the couch, Junie drapes herself over your lap and begs for her clothes to be taken off. Your second wind has worn away to nothing, leaving you plainly exhausted. 
Eddie can't go home, not until he knows you're alright. 
He slinks into your bedroom and tries not to look around too much. It feels like an invasion of privacy despite having made it in here a couple of times, always with his hip to the door as you search for something. He fails spectacularly and straight away, always hungry to know more about you. These days especially. 
Your bed looks like you shook out the duvet but never tucked the corners. Your pillow's on the floor, your thin throw blanket is screwed up in a ball. There's a bunch of Junie's stuffies against the headboard. He grins at their straight backs.
He makes for your wardrobe, a cheap bit of cherry wood with one sagging door. As much as he wants to outfit Junie in her goodwill band t-shirt, he pulls a soft pair of cotton pyjamas out from a neatly folded stack, thumbing the blue fabric fondly. There's a noticeable disparity between her clothes and yours. One work skirt and one work shirt hang from two lonely hangers, accompanied only by your infamous 'best jeans'. He frowns at a small stain at the knee and scratches it fruitlessly. Not her best jeans, he thinks in horror, picturing your unhappy face. He can see it so clearly, the pinching of your brows.
Junie squeals happily from the living room. Eddie remembers himself and follows the sound, finding you both on the ground. You're kneeling, blowing raspberries into Junie's naked stomach where she lays on her changing mat, a discarded diaper and her dirty clothes to the side. 
There's a big break between raspberries where your eyes drift shut sluggishly. Junie whines for another.
Eddie sits next to you. Stupidly close, his crossed leg kisses your thigh. He could wrap you up in a hug easily right here, and he wants to. Your tired face has his stomach aching with guilt. 
"Sweetheart," he says to you firmly, "get back on the couch. You look like you're gonna fall asleep right here." 
You don't argue, leaving Eddie the impossible duty of dressing your baby. Junie hates the shirt more than he can describe, loathes the fabric as it covers her face. He has to pick her up to get her into her pants, another fury. She forgives him easily once he's done, lingering by his side with Mr. Bear in hand. She pinches his back and imitates Eddie's low growl, laughing at herself as she does. She finds it very funny. Eddie can't help giggling with her. 
"Eddie?" you ask. 
He turns. You look miserable. 
"What?" he asks softly, startled by your intense expression. 
"Thank you." 
"Oh, baby," he says, loud and brash as he twists where he is to grab both of your knees. He practically throws himself at you, at your feet, ducking his cheek to your leg. "You really are sick as a dog." 
You look visibly embarrassed.
"Listen," he says, insistent, "If we start saying thank you to each other, we won't stop. We'll be a loop of thank yous." 
"I think I have more to say than you do," you murmur. 
He shakes his head, exasperated at your inability to see him for what he is even now. It's funny. Eddie thinks you've a better view of him than anybody else, that you see him more generously than anyone has ever seen him, and you still haven't noticed he's a boy in love. 
You must feel his grin as he kisses your knee, his thumb stroking over the ridge of the cap. 
"If I started to say thanks for all the things you've given me I wouldn't stop. I'd talk myself hoarse," Eddie argues. 
You laugh at his dungeon master dramatics, but reaffirm, "I haven't given you anything." 
"You don't know what you've given me," he says into your leg. 
Eddie lifts his head, weary of his chin digging into your leg. 
Now isn't the best time to declare devotion, or drop kisses into you when you can't offer any in return. Not that he's expecting you to. Not that he wouldn't receive them gratefully. 
"I should go home." 
You reach for him. Your hand moves slowly like you've a weight around your wrist, but your fingertips curve over his cheek; you move from the corner of his lip, under his eye, and then finish your circle at the skin beneath his ear. 
"Can you hug me?" you ask. 
"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't waste any time.
He gets up, slides a knee between your knees and rests his full weight on the couch between them as his arms curve around you and his hands feel for the dip of your lower back. He clutches without any hesitation. 
"Can I? Did you mean it like that? My arms work fine." 
You curl your arms around him and groan. "You're gonna crush me." 
"Really?" He pulls you closer. "How 'bout now?" 
"Ow," you whine. 
He laughs and pushes his face toward your ear. "Liar," he whispers. "No way that hurts." 
"Why's everybody always on top of me?" 
"That's your issue?" He pulls back. "You want to sit in my lap?" 
"No!" 
"Aw, my poor girl. You totally wanna sit in my lap. Alright, get in it." 
He sits down beside you and waits, one arm still behind your back. He gives you an encouraging tug. 
"I'm not sitting in your lap." 
"I didn't think you would, just- Just c'mere," he prompts, pulling your face into his chest. 
Your arms slide around his waist. He can feel the scratchy skin on your left index finger, a scar of a recent kitchen accident, against his hip where his shirt has ridden. 
"You're really handsy. Has anyone told you that before?" Eddie asks, trying to cover the entirety of your back with his arms alone. 
You push your face as far as it'll go into his chest. Eddie keeps you there, and soon a little body has found its way onto the couch next to you both, demanding to be included. Eddie quickly drags her in. 
Long minutes of quiet hugs. 
"Wish we could stay like this forever," you murmur.
"Well, I'm not going anywhere. If you were worried." 
He massages over the slope of your shoulder, a tight looking muscle. You sigh inaudibly, a hot patch over his heart. 
"I wasn't," you say. 
Eddie thinks you might finally be on the same page. 
-
You get really, really sick. 
"On my days off!" you croak, the injustice too much to handle. 
Eddie laughs from the end of your bed, a bandana tied around his face like a doctor from one of his awful horror movies, though the bandana is far from a clinical white. "That's exactly why you're still sick. Your body sensed the weekend." 
Hadn't it? You'd been achy and awful on Friday and Benny had sent you home at lunch, citing a need to keep his patrons from infection. Which sucked, because you'd really wanted to stick around for the very beginning of the Friday night rush and get some payday tips. People are generous when they're high on the buzz of a forthcoming weekend, especially to over obsequious waitresses.
It had sucked worse when Junie came out of daycare in the best mood ever and demanded kisses. You'd had a headache the size of a tennis ball behind your eyes and didn't want to pass anything over, and the crushed look on her face had made you cry in the car on the way home. 
Eddie dropped in particularly early that night with soup. "I had a feeling," he'd said. 
And now here he is again the day after. 
"At least one of us is enjoying this," you say. 
"You think I'm enjoying this?" Eddie asks. 
You give his precautionary outfit a once over. "Yes." 
"This is just something I had lying around." 
"Shut up! Shut up, no it wasn't!" You're voice cracks, giggly and giddy even with the spikes of pain to your tender head. 
"It was. We did a campaign, I was a plague doctor-" 
"That is in terrible taste." 
"It was perfectly appropriate, thank you very much. You're determined to vilify me. Need to slow down with the cold medicine, I think." 
You shriek as he tries to take the bottle. "No! No, please, my throat hurts." 
He takes the bottle. It is a hurtful defeat. You curl your fingers around nothing and sulk, slouching down into a sanctuary of pillows and blankets to hide from him. Extra pillows provided by Eddie. With fresh covers, duh. They smell like him anyway. You turn your nose into it indulgently. 
"You've had too much to safely be responsible for any further consumption." 
"Further consumption," you echo, eyes closing in defeat as he leaves. 
"You okay, June?" you hear him ask, voice occluded partially by the sound of the TV. 
"Okay, Eddie?" she asks. 
You grin to yourself. 
"I'm great. This looks very fun. I'm gonna make mom a cold pack for her head and then you can help me make dinner, okay? Does that sound fun? Tell me, June." 
The 'Tell me, June,' isn't a command so much as a gentle reminder that she can answer the question if she wants to. 
"Fun," she says.  
"Hey, great. Oh, thank you. Thank you." 
They better not be cuddling without me, you think bitterly, grin swiftly replaced by a self-pitying frown. 
You cough into your hand, roil in your own misery for a second and then grab the big glass of water Eddie had insisted on from the night stand. You tip it down yourself in your hurry. 
"Missed your mouth," Eddie says, appearing at exactly the wrong moment. 
"Don't baby me." 
He pads into the room with a cold pack wrapped in a hand towel. "For your head." 
"This is silly. I don't need to be in bed."
"Obviously you do. You're sick, did you notice? Stupid question," he adds regretfully, gesturing for you to lie back. He sets the pack to your forehead. "You wouldn't notice a hole in your stomach. You'd be dripping entrails in the freezer aisle wondering if Junie wants corn on the cob or mashed potato with dinner tonight." 
"What does she want for dinner tonight?" 
"Boo! Exactly my point." 
"I'm gonna go ask her-" 
Eddie puts an unapologetic hand in the middle of your chest and pushes down. "You will do no such thing." He lowers his face to yours. "I'm willing to get physical. So behave." 
You flush with heat because you're sick and not because he says it a certain way, dropping back down into your fluffed pillows without another word. 
Eddie's hand climbs up to your collar, your neck. His fingers slide one after another behind it. It's a blessed cold. You can't find a comfortable temperature today, moving between chills and hot flashes at the drop of a hat.
Or a bandana. Eddie unties the dark fabric from his neck and leaves it where it lands, staring at you without saying anything. 
His thumb presses into your sore throat carefully, the barest hint of pressure, and his lips part. He doesn't say anything for a while. It looks like he wants to. 
"Do me a favour?" he asks finally.
"Of course." Anything to feel useful right now. 
"Take it easy." He again lowers his head, talking to you with a private smile. "The sooner you chill out, the sooner you'll beat this thing." 
"Don't say that. Like I have something serious." 
"The sooner you'll beat this moderate-" 
"Mild-" 
"-affliction." He strokes quarter-circles into your neck.
"I don't need to lie down. There's things I have to do." 
"On a Saturday?" 
"Yes. There's things I need to do everyday." You clear your throat. It's useless, the lump remains and your voice stays scratchy. "I have- I always have laundry. So that first. Gotta wash it and put it out and bring it in and press it. I gotta make sure Junie has lunch for daycare this week 'n if she doesn't I have to go get it, I gotta," — you cover his hand with your own thoughtlessly — "make sure her rash is getting better. And I promised we'd do a tea party tomorrow, I have to make sandwiches!" 
"We both know she doesn't remember the tea party." 
"I promised." 
"And if I… If I tried to get all those things done, would you stay in bed?" 
"You can't." 
"But if I tried it? I can do laundry. I'm good at it. Get oil stains out of Wayne's coveralls every Sunday." 
You slump into a lump of sadness and achy arms. "Don't do my laundry. Don't do any of that stuff. I'll punch you if you do." 
Eddie bursts into laughter. "You'll punch me? You horrible woman." 
"I will," you promise, fingers curling around his arm to hold him in place. 
"Why don't I believe you?" 
"I don't know. 'Cos you're a know-it-all who dislikes me." 
"I far from dislike you." He grins at you, all dimpled and pretty. "I don't believe you'd hit me because I know you, idiot." 
"Name-calling." 
"Uh-huh. Are you sleeping or am I helping you out onto the couch?" 
While you're happy for the compromise, you have one problem. "I don't think I can move." 
Eddie lets his face fall amicably to your collar. "No, I bet you can't. More reason for me to get you on the couch. I think you've genuinely had too much cough syrup," he worries, warm breath fanning over your skin. 
You bring your spare hand to his head. He has so many curls. 
He lifts his head and you're close enough to kiss. There's no other reason anyone has ever been this close. 
"I can see your beauty mark," you say, hushed. You don't wanna breathe on him too much. 
"Freckle." 
"Your freckle." You lift and drop his curls, fingers toying through the softness towards his roots, the frizz at the ends. 
"You- You smell like fucking cherry syrup."
You abandon his hair to clap a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry." 
He covers his own mouth. "It's okay," he says, similarly muffled. "I like the sweet stuff." 
What the fuck does that mean? Your stomach doesn't flip — it leaps right up into your throat. "You're an idiot," you breathe, caught off guard. 
"What was that?" he asks, taking away his hand. "Didn't catch it." 
"I said, 'You're an-" 
"Amazing friend and confidante?" 
You try to talk and he says, "A real stand-up guy?" 
You try again and he says, "A total rockstar? Baby, if you really think all this you should've said." 
You flop completely onto your back, away from his hands, his jokes and his lovely brown eyes where they bore into your own. Eddie hums and rubs brashly over the top of your arm until the skin glows with heat. 
"Please stay in bed," Eddie says as he stands. 
Medicine or his touch, you're feeling pretty tired. You pull up your blankets and sink like a stone, head disappearing into a mess of pillows and throws. 
-
It's much later when you wake. You move into the land of the living abrupt as whiplash. 
Eddie seems very sorry. "Sweetheart, June's past due for a new diaper, and I-" 
"Oh, right," you say, sounding much more alert than you feel. You're a girl made of sandpaper. 
"I would've, I mean. If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, I would've tried. But I've never changed a diaper in my life." 
You scratch your flaky eyes, disorientated and head like a boiling saucepan with the lid glued on. 
"That's okay," you say. Your voice refuses to cooperate with you, gruff and too quiet. "It wouldn't bother me, but it's also not your job, so… Um." You yawn wide and cover your entire face. 
You spend a minute rubbing your eyes. 
"Fuck, what time's it?" you ask, squinting at him and bringing your hands to either side of your face.
"Like, seven. Ish." 
"Eddie…" 
"I know. I thought you could use the rest. I knew you could. And it's not urgent, you know? Come around, first. Everything's stellar." 
You peel back the sheets. You're a clammy, too-hot mess with weak legs. 
Eddie sees you wobble and rushes to wrap an arm around your waist. Completely unnecessarily, heart-achingly kind. You wince at the dampness of your shirt under his touch.
Junie sits on the couch in her jammies with a yellow-green soup stain down the front. She's propped up like a princess, a pillow behind her head between the armrest and her blanket covering her legs, cheek pressed to the cushions. Eyes trained on the TV and her bottle propped in a slackening grip, your baby is peaceful, near luxurious. 
Only a little wiggle might suggest she's uncomfortable.
You part from Eddie's side and sit down beside her, the seat warm. She doesn't even look up. 
"What, no hi for mom?" you ask tenderly, hand falling to the top of her head. She's lovely. 
She gasps, little lungs fit to burst. It's pure excitement, her bottle dislodged and the blanket pushed away immediately. She doesn't bother getting to her feet, throwing herself into your lap and assuming you'll do the rest. Of course you will. You pull her up and kiss the top of her head, though you quickly hold her at arm's length. 
"Sorry, mommy's still sick," you tell her, sympathetic at her crushed expression. 
"Mis'd," she says. 
"Yeah? You missed me?" you ask hopefully. 
Her lips part in comprehension. "Missed you," she confirms. 
You throw your gaze over your shoulder to Eddie. He stands by Junie's changing station with a smug smile. "What?" 
"You're not very convincing." 
"I'm not trying to convince you, thanks," he says, holding up two hands in surrender. 
"She didn't learn that herself," you argue. 
"She might've. You tell her enough." 
You go back to your girl, pleased at her own smug smile. "I missed you, too, I missed you so much. Missed you millions. Sorry I've been sleeping all day, you've been such a good girl. She has, hasn't she?"
Eddie sorts through a nearly empty bag of diapers and brandishes one with fish printed on the back. "Oh, yeah. Junebug's been amazing. She came in with me to see you earlier, took your temperature." You frown. "From a distance. Kind of. I held her above you. It was… acrobatic." 
You close your eyes at his absurdity, your laugh prompting another spike of pain. 
Junie forces herself closer and gets both arms around your neck. 
You sag into the contact, defeated. "Aw, June," you mumble ruefully. "M'trying to make sure you don't get sick too. Wasting my time." 
"Mommy," she says into your neck. 
"That's me." 
You know she has something she wants to say. You can't wait for the days where she can. Exciting, to think that one day she'll be able to share all of her thoughts. 
Right now, she's probably thinking, Woah, mom, you smell weird. And you look weirder.
You feel her back with your hand and cringe. Definitely time to get her changed.
Afterward, you sit with your back to the open front door on one of the porch steps. Physical exertion of any kind seems to be inadvisable; you're sweating up a storm. Junie sits beside you at her own insistence, her hand clasped in your hand and her head on your arm. You look down at her thighs next to your own and marvel at their small size. The evening breeze is a blessing. 
Eddie stands in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a checklist. 
"Tea party sandwiches are badly made and saran wrapped in the fridge. Junie doesn't have lunch for Monday but I can go tomorrow if you want me to. Her clothes are folded in the hamper. Uh, some stuff got left out, you might need to press them. Not tonight though, please." 
"Thank you." 
He talks around a smile. "Soup's on the stove. I'll come back later, if-" 
"You don't have to." 
"I want to. I wouldn't actually leave, but-" 
"Eddie-" You cough into your shoulder. He waits for you to finish. "You- You didn't have to take care of me." 
"What does that mean? Of course I did." 
He hikes his backpack higher up his shoulder and pads back up the steps, not all of them but enough for him to lean down and stare at Junie. 
"Thanks for the best day ever," he says seriously, looking out of the corner of his eye at you. "Almost. See you later?" 
Junie nods voraciously and reaches up with her empty hand. Eddie takes it and kisses her temple. He does the same to you, lips brushing soft as downy-feather over your skin. 
"I'll come back around ten? Is that cool?" 
"Don't knock too loudly," you mumble, very aware of his proximity. 
He backs up and bows like an idiot, hand moving in circles. 
You and Junie wave him off. 
"To work?" Junie asks.  
Your eyebrows jump as you pull your gaze from his retreating figure. "Huh?" 
"To work?" 
You play with her fingers. "No, he's not going to work. He's going to take care of someone else, now." 
Wayne, Eddie said, in a fondly exasperated tone that explained everything you needed to know. His uncle's self-preservation must come in similar disinterest to himself as yours does to you. 
"We'll see him tomorrow," you say. It's not even a lie, you will both see him tomorrow. 
But apparently he's coming back tonight. 
-
True to his word, Eddie Munson knocks your door carefully at nearing ten o'clock. 
Wayne's dismissal chases his heels. He'd spent an hour worrying about you at the dinner table with his uncle, fingers curling anxiously in his hair. 
Wayne had been talking about some gab the boys in the shop had heard about killer mice or killer lice or something when he'd suddenly cleared his throat and snapped Eddie to attention. 
"You're a good kid. Notice how I said good, and not smart," Wayne had said. 
"Gee, thanks. You always did know how to make a guy feel loved, Wayne." 
"You don't wanna be here." 
Eddie had frowned. "Obviously I do." 
"Kid, what I mean is, you gotta," — he'd nodded his head hard to one side and raised his eyebrows — "you know." 
"Haven't brushed up on my mysterious gestures lately. Translate that one for me?" 
Wayne had flicked up his newspaper and sighed. "Don't be dumb." 
"You keep saying that." 
"You keep being dumb, boy." 
"I don't know what you want me to do." 
"Think you better go look after your girl, don't you?" Wayne had asked finally, clearing his throat. 
So here he is to look after you. A tad early, worried you'll be sleeping on the couch with a misbehaving baby in your lap or passed out in the bathroom after an impromptu cleaning. 
Thankfully, you open the door in different clothes than he'd left you in, the neckline dark with run-off and face damp under your eyes and by your ears. You dab at your tacky skin with your index knuckle. 
"You look better," he says. He wishes he could take it back instantly, though you don't take any offence. 
"Hot shower," you explain. 
You step back to let him in. Eddie closes the door behind him without turning, eyes glued to your fresh face. He's depressed by the lingering fatigue he finds lining your darling features. 
"You okay?" you ask him, perturbed by his silence. 
Eddie's better than okay. 
He steps close. You look like you might step back, make room for him he doesn't want, so he reaches out for your face and holds it in one hand, the other landing in tandem on your arm.
Your cheek lists into his hand as he wipes away what's left of the dampness on your face. He's not sure you know you're doing it. 
"Did you take any more medicine?" he asks quietly, rubbing under your eye carefully with the tip of his thumb.
"No, I- I think you fixed me, Munson. Me and Junie had your soup, and after a shower I felt way better. It was really nice. She slept easy." 
He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel too hot." 
"Like I said. Fixed me. My hero." 
He looks over your shoulder at your life — at his life, or at least where a majority of it seems to take place. All his favourite parts these days happen right there on your couch, or at that table, or knee to knee with a baby that isn't his but- but-
"You said that to me the first time we met," Eddie recalls, shaking his head. It's like there's water in his ears. A few strands of hair drift into his eyes. 
You catch his elbows in both hands. "It feels like a really long time ago now." 
Months. Only months. "I feel like I've known you for years."
He strokes over your face, chin to cheek, the tip of his thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth. 
"That's how I feel, too," you whisper. Utter. Hushed, your words ring loud anyway. "You're my best friend." 
Eddie doesn't take it for a door closing because it isn't. It's a door kicked wide open. Split on its hinges. You and Eddie stand on equal ground, and, for once, the same page.
"You know I don't mind taking care of you?" he asks, hand passing over your ear to hide behind it. He wants to see all of your face. 
Predictably, you drop your eyes to his neck, pupils wobbling as you search for somewhere to plant yourself. "I know. I'm not sure I deserve it." 
"Why wouldn't you deserve it? Everyone deserves taking care of." 
"Even murderers?" 
"Maybe not murderers-" 
"The evil guys from your game? Necromancers?" 
"They're not all evil." His left palm skirts up the curve of your neck, encouraging your face back to his. "Don't change the subject." 
You press your lips together, caught.
"I actually…" — he gathers as much bravery as he has — "want to take care of you." 
"You do." 
He holds your face in both hands. "You know you- You know you started it, right? You know it's- that without your-" He cringes internally at his stammering, but he has to get this part right. "You have gold where your heart should be." 
"Y/N The Golden Hearted. Doesn't have the best ring to it," you muse, hands clinging to the crooks of his elbows like twin pooled teardrops waiting to fall. 
Eddie stares at you, floored.
"What about you?" 
"What about me?" he asks. 
"What's your name?" you demand, grinning. 
"Eddie the Subtle. Munson the Mad."  
You huff a laugh. "That's a cop-out."
"Maybe." 
"How about…" The air feels thick as jelly. Light from under the bedroom door stops short of your legs, your toes almost touching. His rubber soles, your socks. "Eddie the Indomitable?" 
He crinkles his nose. "I'd almost think you were trying to flirt with me, that's how bad that is." 
Your blinks are slow. Your eyes soften. 
"What if I was?" you ask. 
A stock-still silence pervades, filled only by the hum of the refrigerator and the droning of the bathroom light, left on. He could tell you the contents of this room by its sounds alone. 
His hand moves of its own accord, up and down the slope of your neck. "I'd say you needed a better pick up line."
"Like what?" you ask, chest rising too fast. 
Eddie takes a step and feels his jacket zipper cut into the cotton of your shirt. It's your matching band t-shirt. 
Eddie drags his gaze slowly to your widened eyes, your lashes as they move almost imperceptibly upward. Taking him in as he inches closer. 
"You're so fucking pretty," he says. 
He leans in. He closes the gap. Eddie Munson takes the leap. 
Your hand comes quickly to his upper arm and you turn your face just enough to force his lips, his kiss landing a centimetre shy of your nose. 
He struggles to keep his eyes closed. His heart thrums like a blown amp. 
"You can't kiss me," you say. Eddie struggles to discern your tone. 
His nose presses to yours. Not desperately, but almost. "I can't?" he asks, throat thick with emotion, a stickying, cloying taffy. 
"I'll make you sick." 
He turns your face with his palm, lips hovering above yours, a hair's width. Close enough to feel their heat. 
"Can I trust you'll nurse me back to health, in the event that that happens?" Would you take care of me? His hands tremble where they're touching you. He's too scared to open his eyes. 
You don't answer. 
You cover his hands and the seconds stretch endlessly, a thousand moments of terror and pining and want suddenly flattened into one as you kiss him.
He exhales against you. His relief is a palpable, viscous thing as he pulls you in and his nose digs into yours. Lips soft as he'd imagined, as he'd known they'd be, you kiss back tentatively. Sweetly.
You're kissing him like he's something that needs a careful touch. 
Eddie screws his eyes shut tight enough to see stars, firecrackers, a shattering bouquet of colours as you move beneath him. He can't believe he's kissing you. He can't believe there was a time where he wasn't.
He yields, leaning back just enough to see your face. You keep your eyes shut, your eyelashes kissing the delicate skin beneath. They move like blades of grass in the breeze as Eddie tries to catch his breath, regaining some of his composure. It's hard while he's here, this close. 
You make a small sound, a breath like a barb. The shaky demarcation of tears. 
"Okay?" he asks, more movement than sound. His lips skip over your own. 
You have to feel it. 
A laugh bubbles up through your parted lips like a hiccup. "I'm definitely gonna make you sick," you mumble regretfully. 
"Make me sick, sweetheart," he says, begs. Whatever. 
Whatever word you want to use. He doesn't care if he pays for it afterwards, he wants to be close to you now, unapologetically close. And kissing you — kissing you like this, your reciprocation, it's everything because it means you feel the same as he does. 
Or a fraction the same. He's reassured either way. If you felt a fraction of what he felt, that's enough. 
It's a lot. To be touching you, finally. He grabs at the nape of your neck and kisses, kisses, kisses. He goes slowly, not quite sweetly. He's never been as sweet as you have, never as soft or patient.
It doesn't feel like it matters. 
You pull his hands from your face, press his and your own, all four hands to the collar of your shirt. 
"It wasn't just a, uh, pick up line, was it?" you ask breathlessly. 
"Wh- No." Eddie massages the back of your hands. "No, you're the fucking prettiest girl ever. I think you're aces. Killer. Everything." 
"Everything," you say, an almost indecipherable glassiness to your eyes. 
"Everything," he says. He spreads his hand over your heart. 
You don't throw yourself at him, but you move alarmingly quickly. Arms over his shoulders, hands crossed and buried in his hair. Your laugh is magic, a bright and exuberant sound loud in his ear and then the skin underneath. He's barely got an arm around the small of your back when you start to kiss him, repetitive, chaste pecks over his pulse. It capers under your lips. 
"I don't know what kind of girl you think I am-" He begins deadpan and breaks abruptly, your second wave of laughter impossible to ignore. 
Your arms tighten at his laughing, palm cupping the back of his head. 
"You're my best friend, too," he says. "But you knew that." 
"Maybe," you murmur, your smile wide against his skin. You're uncharacteristically mischievous. 
He lets his back bend under your weight until your heels lift and you're scrabbling to stay on your own two feet and is rewarded by your shrieking laughter. 
Oh, god, he thinks, ecstatic. 
"Wait," you say, bargaining for freedom as he squeezes you hard enough to make you laugh again, and again, "wait, wait! Wait, let go. I have something to tell you." 
Eddie sets you down. He's reluctant to let you go, almost desperate to hug you now that he knows he can, but his curiosity gets the better of him. What could you have to tell him now that isn't confessional? It's like being promised something good. 
You stand sure and sweet in front of him.
"It's…" You look shyly at his lips. 
"What?" 
"I…" 
He shakes his head gently from side to side. "What? Tell me." 
"Nothing," you say, beaming. Act dropped, you take his face into both hands and kiss him soundly. 
Eddie's barely got his hands on you before you're pulling back. 
"Just wanted to do that," you say. 
𓆩❤︎𓆪
thank you for reading! | my masterlist | this fic is multi-chapter 
if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡
10K notes · View notes
babygorewhore · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I’ll follow you until you love me.
The moment Eddie Munson saw you, he thought you were perfect and once he finds your social media, it gives him insight into your world. But he can’t get enough of you. Eddie can’t stop himself from acting on his desire to follow you. Eddie is determined to make you his. But maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks.
This is my installment of a shared universe with a mutual. Who will be writing her installment of this universe soon.
Warnings! Smut! 18plus only! Stalker! Eddie. Obsession. Oral! Fem recieving! Unprotected PnV! Fem reader is alternative/goth in this. Eddie is a Bartender. I’m sick and I edited once so if you saw mistakes ignore them.
Eddie knew he was breaking some sort of code. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He was…addicted. You weren’t even friends. Friendly at best. He knew you for only a couple of weeks. Your parents owned his favorite music store and he was sorting through the collection of Black Sabbath CDs when he saw you for the first time in the same aisle.
He immediately fell for you. Everything about you was perfect. Your body. Your face. Your clothes. Your voice. Eddie was completely mesmerized when you both had a conversation about why CDs were essential to the music listening experience. It took everything in him not to kiss you and ruin your pretty lipstick.
As soon as he was alone in his van, he yanked out his phone. Typed in your name and hunted for any sign of accounts you had. He didn’t even use his social media but you would be the exception. You were everything. After several minutes, he finally found your pretty picture. He sighed and leaned back in the seat.
It was your instagram. And in your bio you listed your tik tok, twitter and even your Facebook. Jackpot. Eddie’s eyes scanned over your uploads, his breathing getting heavier. It was almost as if he had a taste of your life. Your world.
The whole week in between his shift at work and when he came home, he devoured everything you posted. He watched every video you reposted, he needed to know your humor, your likes, your dislikes. He couldn’t tear himself away from looking at you.
One night, you posted your work schedule for the next week at the music store. And that’s when he decided he needed to see you again.
His shift ended at the Hawkins bar two hours after he originally planned because some fuckwad didn’t know how to show up on time. The music store would only be open for another hour so he raced to his van and probably broke three laws speeding to the building.
He speedily parked, exited and practiced in his head what he would say. He needs a copy of the band you liked Bad Omens. You posted about them all the time. Eddie needed the physical copy. Something you both talked about so it wouldn’t be weird if he asked for a disc. He inhaled and pushed open the door, glancing around as the bell rung. A collection of people were here, he tried to keep his cool. The CDS. His hair was tied into a bun and he wore all black just like you always did. He shook his head and confidently strides to the shelves.
It was different. More organized. All the decades were correct. Everything was straightened. You had the magic touch. Eddie smiled when his fingers grazed over the plastic, you had touched these. He saw Bad omens right away, but he came here for help. He purposely took a step back and wore a confused expression.
“Eddie?” There. There you were. His cock twitched. Goosebumps rose on his skin. He didn’t turn right away, no. You wouldn’t get it that easy. As badly as he wanted to turn around and-
Your hand gently grazed his shoulder. He wanted to rip off his leather jacket to feel your fingers on his bare skin and his breath shuddered. Finally, he shifted in your direction. Eddie almost kissed you. He had to plant his feet heavily on the floor to prevent himself. Your eyes were soft, searching his brown irises. Small crinkles around your brows showed hours of work but your mouth was curved into a polite, curious smile. You wore all black, a bad omens shirt, leggings and boots. A small name tag was right above your heart. You looked perfect. But he focused on your lipstick, the same you wore that first day. He wanted to smear your makeup. Make it run down your face while you were on your knees. He wanted to grip your hair and guide you through-
“It is Eddie, right? Don’t tell me I forgot.” He jerked his head.
“Yes. It’s Eddie. I’m glad you’re here. I’m in serious need of a music recommendation,” Eddie internally melted when you flashed him a grin.
“Well, I’m happy to assist you. I’m assuming you want this in the form of a CD?” You gave him a knowing look.
He clapped his hands. “ You remembered that. Yes. Always.” You giggled and you extended your hand towards the collection of CDs on the shelves.
“What sound are you looking for? I know you like metal. But do you want a classic recommendation, something underrated or unknown?” You sounded so considerate. You were doing your job, he knew that. But he clung to whatever interest you gave him.
“Honestly, what are you listening too? I want something different. You can only listen to so much Metallica and Black Sabbath,” Eddie dramatically pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
You nodded in kind. “Your secret is safe with me. But I can’t believe you’re actually asking for my opinion.”
“Why? I mean, I’d assume someone who shares my appreciation for metal has great taste.” He saw you from the corner of his eye, you dip your head down for a second. He needed to pace this conversation, withhold what he knows. He just needs to keep hearing your voice. He was almost trembling from the way you were accepting his attempts at charm.
“I mean-If I’m being honest. My favorite band is Bad Omens.” Eddie raised his eyebrows and nodded towards your shirt. His shoulders relaxed. Finally. This was how it went in his head.
“I haven’t listened to them. I’ve seen them on tik tok, but I just haven’t dived in.” He hoped you believed his lie.
“Excuse me?” You both turned and a older man stood at the entrance. Wearing a guns and roses shirt and light blue jeans. “I need help.”
Eddie’s chest burned. No, no, no. He just got you talking. You face him with a shadow of disappointment dancing across your features. He wanted to scream at the man but he had to stay calm. He couldn’t risk you seeing him differently. You didn’t hardly know him.
Yet.
“I’m sorry, Eddie. Gotta help him. But the CD is right there, and if you ring the bell someone will check you out. It was nice seeing you! I hope you like it!”
He was struggling to bury his anger even long after he paid for the album and made his way home. Eddie paced his room. You. You were so beautiful. So sweet. He wanted to keep listening to you talk. He wanted to know every single band you loved. He wanted-no, he needed more of you. He dug his phone out of his pocket.
Settling on his bed, knees spread apart, his thump quickly found your profile. You had so many followers. So many people watching, commenting and sharing with you online. He clenched his jaw when he looked at your story. Eddie blinked at the loud music attached. You had a closed lipped smile and your eyes were shut. And the caption talked about how much you hated rude customers. But then he recognized the song. It was Bad Omens.
He chewed his bottom lip. Was that because of him? Were you thinking about him? The same way he thought of you? He turned up the volume. Listened carefully. Was this song on the album he bought? He picked up the bag and yanked out the plastic, reading the song list on the back . Yes. It was. Eddie pressed the CD against his chest. You touched it. He brought it higher, over his chin until his lips pressed against it. He held it against his mouth, while he stared at your photo.
Eddie had memorized your work schedule. Maybe he could stop by again tomorrow. Fuck, he couldn’t. He had to work and It was too soon. You would be confused.
He couldn’t fit anymore CDs on his shelf but he would fucking build a new one if that meant he could buy more from you.
Tumblr media
The next day he was in his car. Parked across the street with a few cars giving distance from the music store. He didn’t plan it. He was going into work in a hour. But He just needed to see you. Just look at you. That’s it. A death of Peace of mind album was playing in his van and his jaw was clenching so hard from waiting for you to step out. He had fell asleep with his phone on his chest from frantically scrolling on your profile last night.
He didn’t know how his resolution disappeared so quickly. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet you were. How quickly his conversation with you ended. He couldn’t stand it. He needed more. Eddie’s breathing shortened when the entrance opened and you stepped out. You adjusted your bag, shuffled to close the door behind you and cast your search around the direction of the street.
He gripped the steering wheel, so hard his hands trembled as you moved aside for a stranger. You smiled brightly then you started to walk in the opposite direction. His eyes trailed down your body. Black jeans, black hoodie and converse. They lingered on the curve of your thighs in those pants. But he frowned. Were you walking home? You didn’t have a car?
Without a second thought, he turned the keys. In the back of his mind, he knew he was going overboard. He had work. He needed to leave. Soon. But god damn he just needed to make sure you got home safe. His van came alive and he maneuvered onto the street. There was a stop light coming, and he sped up to try and beat it before it turned red. He didn’t know how he would remain invisible as he followed you, but he had to try.
Eddie wasn’t sure how he managed, but you didn’t turn to see his van. Your apartment wasn’t far from the store thank fuck. He settled across the street, behind two cars. The same tactic he used earlier. You jogged up the driveway, where there wasnt a car. His suspicions confirmed. The complex wasn’t big, it looked similar to his own.
He glanced at the clock. He needed to get going. He hated being late. But your address was seared into his mind. He would never forget it. Eddie pulled out his phone, frantically clicking on your instagram. You had a new story. You were smiling, an adorable grin and your fingers were held in a peace sign. The caption said you were finally home. He wanted to help you relax. Spread your legs and make you see stars and never think about a stressful day again.
His dick was growing hard as he imagined your sweet face. Covered in his cum. Your eyeliner running down your cheeks. His hand ghosted the center of his pants before he stopped.
No. No he wouldn’t touch himself. He needed you. He needed to cum inside you. You deserved better than him jerking off in his car before he had the privilege of being with you. Eddie exhaled, forcing himself to drive.
The night shift was always packed. Plus as the manager, he was responsible for training and handling reckless drinkers. His hair was tied up, his usual style for his shift and his sleeves were rolled up, muscles flexing as he slid a glass to a guest. But his mind was a whirlwind. He hadn’t been able to check his phone. What were you doing? Were you relaxing? He was buzzing with energy. He hadn’t even told Steve about you yet, who apparently was busy with his own infatuation. Eddie kept looking at the clock. He had to stay over again but closing was coming soon. Halloween was in just a few days. What were you going to do? Dress up? Go to a party? Fuck, he needed to know.
He had fucking fell asleep before he had a chance to look at your instagram when he got home well after 3am. He crashed on his couch, still wearing his work clothes with his phone in his pocket where it died. Eddie practically shoved the end of the charger into his phone, his leg bouncing from waiting for it to turn back on. He knew he should have charged it. Now, it would take longer to see you.
He wanted to touch himself as he imagined your lips wrapped around him, choking on his dick as his hand is gripping your hair. His hand even drifted to his crotch until he stopped himself. No, he promised himself he wouldn’t cum until it was inside you. You were his. He checked his phone again as it finally came back to life. His fingers were frantic as they clicked on your name.
You uploaded a new story. Eddie sighed in relief. As it came up, your face looked tired. You weren’t smiling, instead you were holding up a glass, clinking it with another glass belonging to your best friend. His chest tightened. He wanted to be there. He wanted to drink with you, hold you and take care of you. You had to walk home. And he had to fucking work. He swiped to the next story.
It was this morning, he knew only because of the time included. Just an hour ago. You were smiling this time. It was your day off and you were thrilled to to go the Halloween store today. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at your bright eyes, the excitement and he needed to see it again. In person.
He had to try. He would go the store. Pretend he was looking for a Halloween costume. But when? You didn’t give a time. It didn’t matter. He would stay all day and wait. It was his day off too.
Eddie threw himself in the shower, got dressed and drove to the store. It didn’t matter if it was an hour away. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t planned dressing up, or that he would have to swap schedules. You were on his mind. Whatever you were doing, he wanted to be a part of it.
Bad omens played loudly in his van as he came into the parking lot. Eddie’s heart started to hammer as he unbuckled and stepped out. His neck was warm at the thought of hearing your voice again so he tied his hair up.
Opening the door, he was greeted with gruesome decor, rows of costumes and several people shopping. Fuck, how was he supposed to find you? If you were even here yet? His shoe tapped impatiently as he was torn on where to go. Costumes. That’s where he’d start. But what kind? Sexy? Scary? in between?
As he walked down the section, he pretended to search. His rings occasionally getting caught in the fabrics and plastic. He wasn’t interested in this. He didn’t want to participate without you. Oh god, who drove you here? Were you going to be alone? He didn’t think about that. He just moved. Eddie dug out his phone from his pocket.
“Hey, Eddie! Is that you?”
He froze.
Eddie turned around and there you were.
This time, you were wearing a dress. A black one. With a matching sweater and combat boots. But his eyes fell to the tattoo on your chest. He hadn’t seen it because you always wore higher neck tops. Eddie almost salivated. Your makeup was dark again with your apparent favorite lipstick. He wanted to touch your skin, run his tongue along the art. He knew you would taste sweet. So sweet.
“Yeah, it’s me.” Eddie dropped into a serious expression. “Are you following me?”
Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No, I just saw you-“ Then he grinned. He knew he was such a tease.
“I’m joking, sweets. I’m just here for my Halloween costume.” Such a fucking lie. But he needed to establish a common ground.
You sighed in relief.
“Me too. We had the same idea.” You didn’t protest at the nickname. Eddie tried not to smirk. You were happy to see him. He had to ball his fists to keep from touching you.
“What are you going as? I haven’t decided.” Eddie forced himself to sound light hearted but he truly needed an idea. You set the stage on his actions.
You gestured, “Follow me and I’ll show you.”
And then you stuck out your hand. Eddie thought he would bust in his pants. He accepted as you gently guided him to the other side of the store, where a large amount of costumes were hanging on the wall. Your grip was firm, warm and steady. You were confident in taking his hand. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your lower half, covered by the fitted dress. Your calves peeked out from the slits on the side. He saw more ink. How many tattoos did you have? He wanted to explore them. Compare them to his. You came to a stop and released him. Eddie wanted to stop you, grab your hand again.
“I’m going with this,” You pointed to the hanging plastic bag and Eddie followed direction.
The picture was a Sweeney Todd costume. Fake blood included and wig. It would be hot. You could pull off anything. But the wig he wanted to protest against. Covering your perfect hair? The hair he wanted to dig his fingers in and pull? Caress? Both? “That’s a great one. I think you’ll stand out. Not everyone knows that reference.”
You smiled again. Eddie felt like he won the lottery. “I like to stand out from the crowd, I guess. My best friend is throwing a Halloween party this year. And I finally had the day off to come here.” Eddie nodded, swallowing the urge to reveal he already knew that.
“I hope you’re not working too hard but I can’t stop listening to the CD. You knew exactly what I needed.” Your hands reached up, pressing against your chest. “You really like it? I’m not used to someone actually agreeing with me.” Eddie couldn’t believe that. Who could resist you? Who wouldn’t give your favorite band a try? He would fix that problem.
“Why wouldn’t I like it, sweets? I’ll have to get more recommendations soon, it makes my driving more exciting.” You opened your mouth to respond but something caught your eye and you excitedly beamed.
Eddie turned, desperate to find what caught your attention other than him.
“That’s my favorite slasher movie! If I hadn’t already decided on this, I would wear that.” Eddie’s eyes widened. It was a Ghostface costume. Why didn’t he know that? He ground his teeth. He should have looked closer at your posts. Maybe he would have seen it. You had amazing taste in movies.
“An amazing movie. That would have also been a perfect choice. But I’m not sure anyone could be scared of you, pretty girl. You’re way too sweet.” The names slipped out his mouth before he could catch himself. But you dipped your head and bashfully peeked at him through your lashes.
He couldn’t believe this was happening. He itched to say more, compliment you more but he didn’t want to freak you out. Especially considering he watched your instagram everyday to know exactly what you were doing but he needed you. He would do whatever he needed to make you feel the same way.
Your phone started to ring. Eddie wanted to beg you not to answer. No, stay here in the moment. You sighed, holding the device up. “It’s my dad. I need to take this. But I hope I’ll see you at the store again! And maybe we can talk more. You really get me.” And then you turned away, quietly speaking to your father.
Each time he managed to speak to you, get somewhere, it was interrupted. But this wouldn’t be wasted. No. Eddie moved away from you, as painful as it was and quickly picked up the Ghostface costume. He didn’t know how he would make this work but god damn it he would.
Eddies emotions went beyond his limit when he was hunched over, phone glued to his hand as he poured over your story on his bed when he got home. Your stories consisted of showing off the costume you bought and then several memes about Halloween being everyday for you. And then you posted your old looks. Most of them were edgy, skulls, prosthetics and some were even masks. Except one. You were wearing a short, thigh high black dress. Fishnets and heels. Your face painted with the Crow makeup. Your chest ink and your leg tattoos were on display.
The intricate thorns that wrapped around both thighs but on the left center was a large showing of multiple flowers. On the right was a skull, jaw slightly open to allow a dark snake to wrap around.
His cock felt like it was going to burst but he would not give in. He just didn’t know what to do. How would he get into the party? Sneak in? He was going insane.
And that’s when Steve hit him up. When Eddie answered the phone, Steve proceeded to explain that there was a Halloween party at a penthouse. And the owner just so happened to be your best friend.
Tumblr media
Eddie thanked whatever universe, energy or even a God if he even bothered to look at him considering what he was doing. It was Halloween night. He wore the long, black gown. A black shirt and jeans underneath. Heavy boots. Most importantly, the Mask. Steve charmed the security, getting them both inside. The lights were off only to be be replaced with LED strips covering the edges of the wall and even the ceiling.
The living room was spacious, modern furniture and sleek tables covered in red cups, beer bottles and liquor bottles. He squinted his eyes, his vision obscured by the mask. No one paid much attention to him, most people had some sort of horror film costume, he wasn’t the only Ghostface. Fuck. How would you tell it was him? He did all of this for you. Music blared, he could feel it in his chest as he walked around the penthouse. Stepping on decorations fallen to the wood floor.
Steve left his side but Eddie knew he was looking for the hostess of this party. Where were you?
There.
His breath hitched and he froze in the doorway of the kitchen. You were pouring a drink in a solo cup. Your costume was perfect. The white puffed sleeves, black vest and striped pants. Fake blood coated your hands, darkening your fingernails. You weren’t wearing a wig, instead you had the signature white streak in your hair. Good. You didn’t need the wig. He opened his mouth to talk but you turned and started walking into the next room.
No. No. Why did he take so fucking long? He was here right now. He used so much effort to be close to you. Eddie took a steadying breath. And he walked directly behind you, he kept trying to tap your shoulder but you were quick. Nearly jogging. His boots hit against the floor, growing louder from speed. You maneuvered through the crowd. Where you going? He almost lost you but you started climbing the stairs where more cobwebs and pumpkins sat.
Were you running from him? From someone else? Was your best friend up here? His mind raced with endless options as he continued prowling behind you. No one was here. He almost slammed into you as you abruptly halted.
You spun around.
“Eddie, why are you following me?” Oh, fuck.
Up close, your makeup was messy. Eyeliner smudged heavily, your lips were dark and glossy. You looked up at him through lashes. But you didn’t sound angry. Or fearful.
You sounded…playful.
He tilted his head. “I was-“
“It’s okay, Eddie. I know you’ve been following me. I know every time you look at my pictures. I knew that you followed me home. And it wasn’t an accident at the store the other day. I was hoping you would buy this.” You reached over, grasping the material of the cloak between your fingers.
Eddie grew hot. He thought he could be subtle but apparently not. You knew the whole time. But why weren’t you upset? He didn’t want you to be. But that would have been naive.
He clutched your hand. “I couldn’t help it. You’re perfect. The moment I saw you, I knew I needed you. I needed to see you, make sure you were safe. I can’t get you out of my mind. Fuck. And I just wanted to be here tonight to finally talk to you without being interrupted. All I’ve done is listen to the album you love. I know you said you weren’t mad but please, god I need you. I need to feel you. I need to-“
“Fuck me?” You finished. “Did you touch yourself while looking at me, Eddie?”
He was buzzing, ignited from the way your lips were in a smirk. You stepped closer and with your free hand, you removed his mask. His hair was even messier and his nostrils flared as he took in your perfume.
He was almost against the wall but he couldn’t take it. Eddie’s hands gripped your hips and he smashed his lips to yours. You tasted better than he imagined. And you met his intensity. Eddie flipped so you were the one pinned against the wall, diving his tongue inside your mouth. His cock was so hard it hurt and he pressed his pelvis against yours, grinding into you. A moan escaped your mouth and he reached down, grasping your knee and pulling it around his hip. He could feel how wet you were through your pants.
Eddie ripped away from your mouth, moving to concentrate to the soft skin of your neck when you grabbed him by his arm and burst through a door he didn’t notice was there. He only had time to register a bed in the center of the room before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled his bottom lip with your teeth. “I wanted you the first day you came in,” You murmured. Eddie pushed your back against the bed, landing him on top of you and he straddled your lap.
“I-can I-can I fuck you?” He had to ask, as frenzied as he felt, he needed you to want it as much as he did.
“Fuck, Eddie. Yes, I want it so bad.” You whined, arching your back into him as he buried his face in your neck, peppering kisses against your jaw before sucking the spot above your collar bone.
You tore off the cloak, before taking off his black shirt with it and running your hands down his chest, stomach before tugging his belt. Eddie lifted his head, helping you as he kicked off his jeans. But he wanted to taste you. He slid down, peeling off your tight pants and your underwear. Eddie got impossibly harder as you mewled as he separated your legs.
Your cunt dripped with arousal and he spread it apart, coating his thick fingers. He dove in, flattening his tongue against your clit. Eddie moaned at your sweet taste as he licked down your slit before slipping his tongue inside you. You were jerking your hips to hump his face, his nose continually hitting the sensitive nerves in the center.
“I’m gonna cum.” Eddie didn’t speed up, he stayed hungrily lapping your pussy and your movement locked, your thighs squeezing his head. The entire lower half of his face was glistening as he pulled away.
Eddie crawled over you and captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Smearing cum all over your mouth, messing your lipstick even further. Just like he imagined.
“Please, fuck me.” You whimpered and he clumsily took off his boxers, releasing his heavy cock leaking with precum.
Eddie lined his dick against you before pressing inside, stretching your pussy as you clenched around him. He groaned from deep in his chest and shuddered. Your nails dug into his skin as he started thrusting, deep and hard. The bed was slamming against the wall.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, baby.”
He couldn’t even speak anymore, you felt so good he saw stars and he loved the pain from you scratching him. “I’m-I’m close.”
He wanted to hold off for you but the way you cried out, burying your face on his shoulder, Eddie spilled into you. Fuck condoms, he thought. His breath came in choked pants as he pulled out and scooped you into his arms. He was completely naked and you only had a shirt on, that he planned on removing once he caught his breath.
“I can’t believe you knew the whole time. And I can’t believe you liked me back.”
Your head turned as he held you close to him, his arms tight around you. He never wanted to let you go. Now that he’s tasted you, he could never stop.
“Eddie, why do you think I let you follow my account? Why do you think I told you to listen to bad omens? I wanted you to think about me. Besides, your friend Steve pulling the same move on my best friend.”
Holy shit. My first Eddie fic. I’m back with fics! Huge thanks to my tumblr wife @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this, encouraging me and beta reading. And my little sister @scene-and-dandylover for always supporting me.
Taglist for this!
@reidsbtch @battymunson @take-everything-you-can @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @taintandviolent @hyperharlz @elaine-in-the-membrane @onegirlmanytales @randominstake
If I forgot about have mercy I am tired
1K notes · View notes
munson-blurbs · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
Summary: After moving to Hawkins to take care of your ailing grandma, you end up spending a wild night with Corroded Coffin's lead singer, Eddie Munson. When you uncover his true intentions, you have no desire to ever see him again, but fate--and his son, Harris--has other plans.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering (f! receiving), oral (m!receiving), slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n
WC: 7.5k
Chapter 1/20
Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika
Tumblr media
Late August, 1996. 
July had come and gone so quickly, and you could sense it in the muggy air as the daylight dwindled away on the horizon of an orange colored sky. Your heels click along the parking lot pavement as you make your way into the dingy bar. Everyone told you that your twenties would be full of surprises, but no one warned you that those twists and turns would land you in Hawkins, Indiana. 
The neon sign reads The Hideout; well, really, it reads Th H deo t, and the “o” is starting to flicker. You’re not the only one who notices the building’s crumbling exterior. 
“Huh,” Jess says, crossing her arms over her chest. “This place seemed a lot cooler when I was in high school.” Still, she pushes open the door, where you’re immediately hit with the stench of cigarettes and beer. The floor is sticky with what you can only hope is spilled liquor, and you take a seat on a rickety barstool. 
“How did you even hear about this place?” you ask your new friend, tugging your dress so it covers a bit more of your thighs. You had one night out to yourself, and Jess was insistent on you making the most of it. 
“Used to come here all the time when I was, like, sixteen?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re dirt cheap and they never card, so my friends and I used to get super wasted. Thought we were hot shit.” She flags down the bartender with a wave and a smile. “Anyway, you can’t live in Hawkins and not come to the Hideout at least once. It’s a tradition.”
The bartender, a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, leans on the counter. “What can I get you ladies?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from what sounds like decades of chain smoking. 
You’re about to order a Bud Light, but Jess cuts you off. “We’ll each have a Hideout Special,” she says confidently. “Make hers a double.”
“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me? And what the hell is a Hideout Special?”
She waves off your concern. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’ll get you buzzed fast.”
You reluctantly agree, sipping on something that tastes vaguely like a mixture of rum and vodka, with the pungency of rubbing alcohol. “That’s awful,” you grimace, and Jess just laughs.
“Yeah, they’re pretty rough going down. But you only have one night to yourself, and you’re gonna make the most of it.” She links her arm through yours, using her free hand to tilt the drink back up to your lips. “Now, drink up. The band’s gonna start playing soon, and you’ll need all the liquor you can get. Trust me.”
Tumblr media
Corroded Coffin, the band in question, is warming up in the back room. Tuesday nights   has been their slot since high school, and if their lead singer and guitarist has his way, it’ll be their slot until they’re too old to play. He’s tuning his ax, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, only looking up when he hears a faint “oh, shit,” come from his bandmate.
“Y’good?” Eddie asks, strumming gently to play a perfect A-chord.
“Yeah,” Jeff says, holding up a small black box. “Forgot I had this in my pocket; almost dropped it when I took off my jacket.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s what you get for wearing leather in fuckin’ August, dude.” He squints at the object in Jeff’s hand. “What is that, anyway?”
“A ring,” Jeff proudly announces. “I’m gonna ask Viv to marry me.” The big, goofy grin on his face makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He looks at Gareth and Danny, expecting similar disgusted reactions from them, but they’re both smiling, too. 
“Way to go, man!” Danny says, and Gareth claps Jeff on the back. “Our little Jeff is growing up.”
“Oh, fuck off, man,” Jeff says, but he’s laughing as he accepts the congratulations. He glances expectantly at Eddie, waiting for him to chime in. 
“You two’ve been together for a million years,” Gareth jokes, twirling a drumstick in his free hand. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”
Jeff’s eyes dart around the room. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he starts, voice hushed, “but Viv’s pregnant!”
“Holy shit!” Danny sputters. “Dude, you’re gonna be a dad!”
“Yeah,” Jeff agrees incredulously. “Fuckin’ wild, isn’t it?” His gaze falls to Eddie. “Does the seasoned professional have any words of wisdom?”
An uncharacteristic silence fills the room. Eddie can feel their eyes burning a hole into his head. He knows what he should say, what Jeff wants to hear, but he can’t bring himself to feign happiness. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you knocked her up.” It comes out with a snarl, meaner than he’d intended. 
“Crazy thought, but have you considered that I actually want to marry her?” Jeff shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not all content being miserable hermits like you are.”
“Whoa, break it up,” Gareth tries, stepping between the two guitarists, but the conversation’s already too heated. 
“I’m not miserable, and I’m not a hermit,” Eddie counters. “I’m just not about to limit myself when there’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”
Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the well wishes.” Eddie can’t help but notice the flash of hurt in his eyes as he walks away. A small part of him feels bad, but he can’t shake the anxiety that unexpected change seems to bring.  
“So, what does this mean for Corroded Coffin?” he asks. “Should we consider this our farewell show?” He tries to ignore the irritated glares he’s getting from Gareth and Danny. It’s like the words fall from his mouth before his brain can process the damage they can do. 
“Obviously, once the baby comes, I’ll have to take a step back,” Jeff shrugs. “And I’m gonna try to work some overtime before it’s born. Save some extra money, y’know.” 
The room had been zapped of joy, and Eddie feeds off of the sullen atmosphere. “Nice commitment to the band,” he sneers. “Glad to see how easily your priorities change.”
“Yeah, man, you should try it sometime,” Jeff snaps. His fists clench, and he looks angry enough to throw a punch. “Maybe you’ll stop acting like an overgrown teenager.” 
Eddie’s about to fight back, jaw locked in place and eyes seeing red, but he’s temporarily grounded by the sound of the manager’s tired voice echoing from the ancient sound system.  
“Put your hands together for Corroded Coffin!” A smattering of applause signals their cue to enter. Eddie tries to shake off the conflict; it can be resolved after they play. The show must go on, or whatever it was that his high school drama teacher always said. 
Tumblr media
A balding man with a gruff voice introduces the band as Corroded Coffin. Jess’s eyes go wide; she’s already a few Hideout Specials deep and definitely feeling it.
“Oh, shit!” she laughs with a hiccup. “That’s my sister’s boyfriend’s band!” She motions to the bartender to pour her another drink, but you shake your head and just mouth water. The bartender gives you a knowing nod, probably grateful that she won’t have to be the one dealing with Jess tonight.
“Yeah, that’s Jeff!” Jess continues, pointing at a tall guitarist with tight curls. “He’s the one who knocked up Viv!” She cackles like she just made the most hilarious joke. “I totally forgot they were playing tonight.” She frantically waves at him, and he gives a small head nod in acknowledgment.
Your eyes are drawn to someone else: the lanky, ring-clad man who takes center stage. He grips the mic with black polished nails, smirking out into the crowd as he yells, “Hawkins, how’re we doin’ tonight?” The loudest cheers come from Jess, and you join in, letting out an obnoxious “woooooo!” in response.
The noise draws his attention, and you watch as his smirk shifts to something needier, hungrier, even. His big brown eyes land on you and Jess, leaving you momentarily breathless. He’s absolutely gorgeous, light stubble on his cheeks and above his plush lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck that shows off a dusting of chest hair. His torn black jeans hang low on his hips, accentuated with a studded belt. A gleaming pair of silver handcuffs are clipped to one of the loops.
“All right!” he calls back. “Well, this first one goes out to the pretty girl in the blue dress at the bar. Wait for me after the show, Sweetheart.” He counts out to four, and they launch into a cover of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.
It doesn’t even register until Jess nudges you, more forcefully than necessary, and says, “Hey, you’re wearing a blue dress!”
Oh. 
Oh. 
“Who…who is he?” you ask, feeling a warmth spread through your core that you’re sure isn’t from the alcohol. 
“That,” Jess says, leaning on you for balance, “is Eddie Munson. Total freak back in high school, but now he’s just got a reputation for being a freak in the sheets.” She throws you a clumsy wink and adds, “looks like you’ll get to find out for yourself tonight.”
“I’m not really a one-night stand kind of person,” you counter, internally cringing at the memories of your feeble attempts at hooking up, all of which inevitably ended with you pining after them pathetically. 
Jess rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she whines, taking note of the way you and Eddie can’t seem to tear your gazes from each other. “Your dad leaves tomorrow, and then you’ll be spending your nights taking care of your grandma. You gotta live a little!”
Plopping back down onto the barstool, you consider her sentiment. It’s true; once your dad goes back home, you’ll be the one helping out in the evenings. And the new school year starts next week, leaving you with little time for yourself. 
Your whole life has been spent helping others. You became a teacher to shape young minds and provide them with a safe place to learn and express themselves. You moved to a tiny town in the middle of Indiana to look after your grandma. Even now, you’re babysitting Jess and ensuring she doesn’t dehydrate instead of letting loose and ordering another drink. 
“Fine, but only if he brings it up,” you concede. “I’m not gonna be the one to make the first move.”
The band moves on to their next song; it’s either an original or one you’re not familiar with, but you find yourself dancing to the beat. Jess joins you, writhing her body in some kind of drunken jig that has you cackling. You’re having such a great time that you don’t even notice Eddie tripping over a few chords as he watches you sway your hips back and forth. 
Corroded Coffin plays for another forty minutes. You recognize some Metallica and Black Sabbath songs, headbanging along until you’re dizzy. The bartender slides you another drink—on the house, she insists—and you sip it eagerly, trying to quell your nerves. Eddie shouts out, “thank you, Hawkins!” and disappears backstage with the rest of the band. 
You can’t ignore the dejected pain in your heart, but you muster up a smile and turn to Jess. “Ready to get out of here?”
She shakes her head, putting her palm on the bar to steady herself. “You still have to wait for Eddie,” she teases. “You promised.”
You cock your eyebrow in amusement. “First of all, Drunky McWasted, I didn’t promise anything,” you say, “and second, show’s over and, uh, he’s not here.” You swivel around for emphasis. 
“Give him a fucking second, would ya?” The comment doesn’t come from your friend, and you turn around to see Eddie standing behind you. He’s got a towel around the back of his neck, mopping up the sweat from his performance. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and you can see the remnants of kohl eyeliner smudged around his lash line. “Had to clean myself up a little bit, damn.” He smiles, and you feel like you’re going to melt. 
Jess interrupts, pushing you closer to him. “Eddie, this is my neighbor.” When you still don’t say anything, too awestruck to introduce yourself, she tells him your name. 
Eddie nods, letting his fingers graze yours. “What’d you think of the set?” He grins at the bartender, who gives a small head bob and hands him a whiskey, neat. 
“It was good,” you manage, finally finding your voice. “I especially liked the song you dedicated to the pretty girl in the blue dress.” There. You flirted. The rest is up to him.
“Yeah?” He rests his forearm on the bar and leans over to take his glass. “Was kinda hopin’ you would. Soon as I saw you, I knew I had to shoot my shot.” His eyes flit over the low-cut neckline of your dress before he drags his gaze back to your eyes. “You new to Hawkins?”
“Mhm,” you say, watching as he fumbles with a pack of Newports. “I moved here to take care of my grandma.” Good going. Nothing turns a guy on like talking about your elderly relatives.
But Eddie’s unfazed. “Hot and nice? A lethal combo, if I do say so myself.”
“What about you?” you blurt out. “I mean, have you always lived in Hawkins?”
He shrugs. “Been back and forth. Came here when I was nine, left when I was twenty-two, then came back about four years ago.”
“What brought you back? Missed all the excitement?” You laugh and he gives a small smile, but an emotion you can’t pinpoint crosses over his face.
“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie mutters, popping a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna go outside an’ have a smoke with me?”
“I’d love to,” you say with an apologetic tone, “but I really don’t wanna leave her alone.” You motion to your friend, who is currently trying to convince the bartender to let her have another drink. But as soon as she hears you using her as an excuse, she waves you off.
“Go,” she insists. “I’ll be fine. ‘M gonna have Jeff take me back home.” She stands on her tiptoes, nearly falling over, flailing both her arms wildly when she spots Jeff in the crowd and shouting, “Jeffy! Jeffy, can you drive me home so these two can have sex?”
You feel your face heat up at her words as Eddie shakes his head incredulously, lips twisting into a cocky grin. The last thing Jeff wants to do after Eddie’s earlier tantrum is help him get laid, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he doesn’t watch after his inebriated sister-in-law-to-be.
“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles, carefully looping his arm around her waist and helps her to his car. He appears to deliberately avoid making eye contact with Eddie, though you don’t know why. The two of them seemed to be getting along just fine on stage. The rest of the band leaves with them, carrying various instruments. No one even acknowledges Eddie’s presence. 
“Uh, everything okay?” You can’t not pretend you didn’t notice; the tension is far too obvious.
Eddie brushes it off with another shrug. “Guys all got sticks up their asses, I dunno.” He pulls a black Bic lighter from his back pocket and motions towards the door, signaling your cue to walk out with him and drop the conversation.
Chirping crickets and a rowdy group of drunks shouting obscenities at each other punctuates the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Eddie looks at you expectantly, holding out his lighter, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to take out your own pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes that you do not have.
“Oh, I, um, I don’t smoke,” you stammer, biting your tongue in irritation towards your own awkwardness. “I mean, I’ll smoke, like, socially, but I don’t carry cigarettes on me. Sorry.”
“Wanna bum one?” You pluck one from the pack and lean in as he lights it for you. The crisp inhale of tobacco lingers in your lungs for a moment before you breathe out, grateful that you didn’t cough like a middle schooler stealing cigs from her mom’s stash. You take another drag, watching as he does the same. You’d thought that there would be some level of conversation, but Eddie seems perfectly content smoking in silence.
“So,” you finally say, “how long have you been playing guitar?”
He chuckles and pushes his hand through his hair, stopping where it’s gathered into a hair tie. The perspiration on his forehead is starting to dry, but his bangs still stick to it. “Shit, gotta be twenty years now. Damn, I’m fuckin’ old.”
“How old are you?” It comes out more accusing than inquisitive, and you sharply inhale more nicotine to shut yourself up.
“Turned thirty last month.”
“Oh, that’s not old,” you reassure him. “I’m twenty-eight, so…not far behind.” 
He doesn’t say anything in response to this. Maybe you’d misread his intentions. Or maybe he’d lost interest after just a few moments alone with you. The pretty girl in the blue dress quickly becomes the lame girl in the blue dress, and you both return home unsatisfied.
You try again, this time saying something that warrants a response. “I just moved here last week, if you have any recommendations of places to go. Restaurants or something?”
Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s pretty boring around here.” 
End of conversation.
“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, shifting your weight onto your other foot and stubbing out your cigarette in the nearby ashtray. There’s no sense in wasting anymore time, and the nighttime chill is biting at your bare legs. 
“Wait, what?” Eddie practically does a double-take. “I thought…didn’t Viv’s sister say something about…”
Or maybe you’d read the situation correctly after all.
“You still want to?” 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his own cigarette, and the smirk returns to his face. “Your place or mine?”
Considering the fact that your place is currently housing an eighty-year-old woman with declining cognition, and your father, you quickly jump at the offer to go to his home. 
You walk with him to his car, a beat-up blue sedan. He opens the passenger door, and you thank him with a tight smile, still not sure what to expect. Maybe he’s just not into small talk, but he seems awfully closed off for a man who’s trying to get laid.
A tangle of tree-shaped air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror; they sway slightly as the two of you plop in your seats. Instinctively, you look behind you as he turns the key in the ignition. Nestled into the far left side of the backseat is a carseat. Cheerio crumbs are wedged in the crevices, and an empty sippy cup leans up against it.
“Is that a carseat?” It’s a dumb question; of course it’s a carseat, but you can’t bring yourself to be more blunt and ask if he has a kid. I mean, the guy couldn’t even tell you a single restaurant to go to.
“Oh. Yeah.” Eddie reaches around, placing a ringed hand on the back of your headrest as he backs out of the spot. He doesn’t elaborate on the matter, just speeds out of the parking lot, so you don’t push it.
The words, I love kids; I’m actually a preschool teacher, linger on your lips, but you bite them back. This is supposed to be casual, a one-night stand; you’re not trying to be anyone’s stepmother.
Eddie flicks on the radio to a metal station–of course–and you sit back and try to enjoy the ride. You can faintly hear him humming along to the music. The fingers on his left hand drum on the steering wheel, while his right hand finds its way to your upper thigh. Fuck, it feels good. He gently squeezes, and the sensation of his cold metal rings combined with his hungry touch makes you involuntarily press your legs together.
“Just wait, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “There’s more where that came from.” It’s probably the most he’s said to you all night, and you consider it a small win. You lean in and gently nip at his earlobe, grinning as he shivers at the contact.
“There’s more where that came from,” you echo, shifting back in your seat. Eddie looks at you, brows raised and forehead creased in amusement, but–big surprise–says nothing. He pulls into an apartment complex parking lot, swinging into the nearest available spot, and kills the engine. Without the music or the steady hum of the ignition, you’re suddenly plunged into complete silence. Are you really doing this? Going to a stranger’s apartment to have sex with him? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? But Jess knows him–sort of–and vouched for him, so he can’t be all bad, right? Although, Ted Bundy had friends, too…
Eddie clearing his throat disrupts your inner monologue, and you glance up at him shyly. “Sorry,” you mutter, though you’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.
“No biggie,” he says, like he’s used to women just spacing out in his car before they fuck him. “Um, y’ready to go inside?”
You nod, opening your door and carefully stepping out onto the uneven pavement. You wobble a little in your high heels, but you feel a hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Lemme help you,” he mumbles, lacing his fingers through yours and guiding you to the front door of the building. 
The two of you only make it to the stairwell between the first and second floors before he’s pouncing on you, your back against the cold concrete walls. His hands start on your waist, traveling upwards and lightly grazing your breasts before he’s cupping your face. His kisses are hungry, but not sloppy; when his tongue breaches your lips, you let him in without a second thought. He places his knee between your legs, just barely nudging it against your lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away from you and running his tongue over his teeth, “I need you, pretty girl.” 
You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Can’t get naked until we’re in your apartment.” You pause before whispering in his ear, “and if you thought this dress looked good on me, wait till you see it on your floor.”
Eddie’s eyes widen. “‘S just another flight of stairs after this, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just takes your hand again and leads you to apartment 3C. There are a few Hot Wheels cars scattered on the ground, but he kicks them under the couch without further explanation. He sits down, adjusts his body on the soft beige cushion, and pats his lap. “Your throne,” he says cheekily, exposing tiny dimples on either side of his lips.
Wordlessly, you climb on top of him. Your dress bunches up as you straddle his waist, though that won’t be a problem much longer. You greedily grind your clothed pussy over the rough denim of his fly, sucking on his neck as his strong hands clasp the back of your thighs and pull you closer.
“Needy thing, hmm?” Eddie smirks, chuckling when you feign offense. “Where’re you going? ‘M just teasing you.” He sits up a bit, tugging one dress strap down and kissing the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “Maybe I read it wrong, but…y’look like a girl who likes to be teased,” he says, voice muffled by your skin. 
“N-No, I do. Like it,” you stammer, fumbling with the frayed hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. You run your hands over the expanse of pale skin, admiring his tattoos. There’s one of a red guitar pick right above his left pec; without thinking, you kiss it gingerly. He lets out a quiet moan, unzipping your dress and helping you shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees you on display for him.
“Christ, baby,” he groans, “got the most perfect fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He kisses them and runs his thumbs over your pert nipples before briefly sucking on them. The nickname baby isn’t lost on you, but you try not to read into it. 
Still, there’s a sense of satisfaction at the way he’s crumbling literally beneath you, though you can’t help but snarkily say, “bet you say that to all the girls you bring back here.”
Eddie throws his head back and laughs, sending vibrations through your core. “Only the ones with perfect tits.”
You hate yourself for wondering how many perfect-breasted women there have been.
“Bedroom?” It’s all you can manage, already breathless from dry humping like a goddamn teenager on prom night.
Eddie hesitates before shaking his head, a curl falling loose from the hair tie. “Let’s just, uh, stay out here. Room’s kinda a mess.” The unsure expression on his face hints at another reason, but he quickly distracts you by pushing your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger into your aching cunt. “Holy shit. S’fucking wet already. I knew you were needy.”
“Y-Yes. Need you. Need more.” You’re already stretched out by one finger, but you’re dying to know how a second one feels. The more of him inside you, the better. He obliges, fucking you with his pointer and middle fingers while his thumb makes tiny, hurried circles against your clit. “That’s it, right…right there. Don’t stop; please don’t stop!” He brings you to your orgasm, smirking as you finish all over his fingers. 
Your rocking slows, and you reluctantly pull yourself off of him and sink to your knees. He’s unbuckling his belt as fast as he can, and you can’t help but notice the wet spot on his jeans right where you were grinding on his thigh.
Eddie’s pants and plaid boxers are around his ankles in a heartbeat. His hard cock rests against his stomach; a pearly bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip. “Let’s see what that cute little mouth can do, Sweetheart,” he muses, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head.
You bite your lower lip. “First I gotta clean you off, yeah?” you ask before licking the tip, tasting him. His length twitches at that minimal contact, which makes you giggle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” There’s no protesting, so you grasp the base of his shaft with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You suck on the head, circling it with your tongue, before taking as much of the rest of his cock as you can fit into your mouth. 
“Mmm, baby, yes,” he growls, inhaling sharply when you gently tug on his balls. “Thas’ a good girl. Play with my fuckin’ balls, just like that.” He bucks up his hips, bringing his cock even further down your throat. “Gag on it, baby. Gag on my big fuckin’ cock.”
He’s not wrong; at least, it’s the biggest of any guy you’ve ever been with. Hollowing out your cheeks, you increase your pace, letting your nose brush against his patch of dark curls. Saliva drips down your chin; you swipe at it clumsily and keep your focus on him. 
“Shitshitshitshitshit–FUCK!” Before you can even process what’s happening, Eddie pulls out of you. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his right hand, and he buries his face in his left. You reach for a tissue and hand it to him, and he angrily wipes off his spend. 
“Gimme fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good to go,” he says, tossing the used tissue in a nearby wastebasket. He finds the remote tucked behind a couch cushion and clicks on the TV. An episode of Seinfeld comes on. “You’ll do,” he mutters, plopping down next to you and poorly stifling a yawn.
“Sleepy?” you tease, wrapping your naked chest in an itchy wool blanket and curling up. He doesn’t put his arm around you, or make any attempt to cuddle, so neither do you.
“Nah, ‘m fine.” But nearly five minutes later, while Jerry and Elaine argue about God-knows-what, you can hear Eddie softly snoring next to you.
“Eddie,” you whisper. No response, so you try a little louder. “Eddie!”
“Huh? What?”
“I can, uh, I can go now. I’ll call a cab. Just need your address.” You start to get up and head for the phone hanging on the wall, but he puts an arm out to stop you.
“‘S’okay. Stay for a bit, baby.”
Stay for a bit, baby.
It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of him; his curt conversations and closed-off demeanor earlier in the night indicated that he was not looking for someone to sleep over. But now he’s asking you to stick around, resting his head on your shoulder and letting one tattooed arm drape over your waist. You let him stay there, trying your best not to wake him, but you’re forced to reach over him to grab the remote when an infomercial starts blaring.
“C’mere,” he mumbles, half-asleep as he lays down and scoots himself as far back as he can. You follow his lead, pressing your back against his bare chest. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you find yourself drifting off while wrapped in the warm embrace of this handsome stranger.
Tumblr media
RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!
You’re startled awake by a loud, unfamiliar noise that doesn’t sound like your alarm clock. 
RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!
Eddie jolts up, almost knocking you off the couch. “Shit, didn’t think you were still…” He turns towards the ringing sound, still confused. “What time is it?!” His eyes widen as he gets a look at the clock, which reads 7:19. “Shit, shit, shit! Son of a bitch!” 
He practically flies off of the couch, sprinting to the phone and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Wayne? Yeah, I’m sorry…overslept. I can be there in ten…no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just…okay, okay, fine. See you soon.” He hangs up with a clank, turning back to you. 
You’re just sitting on the sofa, still wearing nothing but your underwear and the blanket. “Everything…um, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but he lets out an overwhelmed sigh. “Let me help you find your dress.” He doesn’t say it aloud, but the real meaning behind his words seeps through: you should leave.
You nod, feeling the all-too recognizable lump in your throat. It happens any time these shared intimate moments come to an end; the realization of just how temporary you are in someone’s life is a punch to the stomach.
You find the bunched blue garment behind the couch and slide it over your head. The fabric feels stale and cold against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you. Eddie’s only wearing his boxers, and you catch yourself staring at the collection of tattoos that trail down his arms and torso.
“Like what you see?” He laughs when you duck your head, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks as he walks towards you. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Not after that little show you put on for me last night.” He leans down, tilting your chin up to him and kissing you softly. “Before you go, leave your number, yeah?”
That makes you roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.
“What?”
“Don’t ask for my number if you’re not gonna call,” you say. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “We don’t have to do the whole song-and-dance. We can just, y’know, leave this as a one-night stand.”
Eddie chuckles incredulously. “You wound me, Sweetheart,” he says. “‘Course I’m gonna call you. How could I not wanna see a girl as beautiful as you again? ‘Sides,” he adds slyly, “We didn’t even get to the best part.”
Begrudgingly, you write your number on a nearby notepad. The phrase don’t get my hopes up for nothing sits on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back.
You’re halfway down the stairwell when you remember that you never called a cab. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to clamber back up to the third floor and ask Eddie to use his phone–and get his address–so you continue down to the lobby payphone and dial Jess’s number.
“H-Hello?” a man’s sleepy voice picks up on the third ring.
“Uh, Jess?” It’s clearly not your neighbor, but you have no idea what else to ask. Did she find some skeezy guy to bring home from the Hideout last night? 
“Nah, it’s Jeff. Who’s this?” When you say your name, he hums in acknowledgment. “Oh, yeah. From the bar, right?”
“Yeah…is Jess there?”
He yawns into the receiver. “Last I checked, she was asleep. Finally. She spent half of last night puking her guts up. Everything okay?”
“Mhm. I was just wondering if she could pick me up from…um, from Eddie’s.” You cringe at your admission; the last thing you want is for Eddie’s bandmates to think that you’re some kind of pathetic groupie.
But Jeff seems unfazed. “I’ll be right there.” Before you can protest, he hangs up. 
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass-door reflection. Your hair is a mess, and there’s smudged makeup around your eyes and lips, like a billboard for the walk of shame.
Jeff pulls up a few minutes later, and you bashfully climb into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to let your humiliation show through.
“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as he pulls onto the main road, “it’s a special occasion.” When you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion, he laughs. “Ed never lets a girl stay over. Not sure what you did–don’t wanna know, to be honest–but you must’ve made quite the impression.”
“Didn’t mean to,” you say quietly. “We both fell asleep after…yeah. We only woke up when we did because some guy named Wayne called.”
Jeff nods knowingly. “That’s his uncle. He watches his son on Tuesdays when we have our gigs.” 
His…son?
Jeff must notice the stunned expression on your face, and his cheeks flush pink. “Shit, he didn’t tell you about Harris?”
“We didn’t do much talking,” you reply wryly. “I’ll have to ask him about that when he calls.”
“Christ,” Jeff shakes his head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s not gonna call. Never does. Calls it the ‘Cat-and-Mouse.’”
“The what?” Your throat goes bone-dry. You should’ve trusted your intuition, denied giving him your number, left it as a one-time thing.
“He brings a girl back to his place, has sex with her and asks for her number, but doesn’t call. When she shows up to the bar the next week, all insecure and wondering if he’s still interested, he acts like he’s been so busy, apologizes profusely, and strings her along until she catches on. Then it’s onto the next one.”
You feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Bile burns at the back of your esophagus, and you have to blink back tears. How could you be so stupid, so naive? Didn’t you know by now that guys like Eddie Munson are only after one thing?
The two of you sit in silence until he pulls up to your building. “Thanks,” you say finally, “for the ride and for the warning.” Jeff just nods, watching to make sure you get inside before driving off. As soon as he’s safely down the road, you burst into tears. Angry at Eddie, but mostly angry at yourself.
Tumblr media
Eddie watches from his window as you get into a car–Jeff’s car–and leave. Great, he thinks, I’m sure I’ll get my ass handed to me at our next practice for fucking around with his sister-in-law’s friend. If we even still have a band, anyway.
Throwing on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an undershirt, he makes his way downstairs just as Wayne and Harris arrive. His son is leaping out of his carseat to get to him.
“Daddy!” Harris flashes a gigantic smile. His dark brown curls are a tangled mess atop his head. Eddie unbuckles him and wraps him in a giant hug. He’s losing the chubbiness of his baby fat, but he’s still sweet and cuddly.
“Har-Bear!” Eddie laughs. “Did you say goodbye to Grampa Wayne?” Harris encircles Eddie’s waist with his legs, reaching out his arms to give Wayne a hug through the window.
“Sorry again,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm.”
“Got a job yet? A real one?” Wayne asks stoically, ignoring his nephew’s apology.
A storm cloud washes over Eddie’s face. “I’ve told you a million times: nothing’s going to pay the bills as well as working for Rick.”
Wayne rolls his eyes. “Get a job,” he says pointedly, pressing a kiss to Harris’s cheek before lowering his voice and growling at Eddie, “and wipe the damn lipstick off your neck, for Chrissake.”
Tumblr media
Jeff’s right: Eddie never calls. The home health aid that takes care of your grandma during the day informs you at the end of each shift that week that no one named Eddie called for you. And while you can’t say you’re shocked, it doesn’t do much to quell the hurt.
You spend as much time as you can preparing your classroom for the new school year. By the time you’re finished, the room is decorated to look like a jungle. Stuffed animals of lions, monkeys, and different birds line the shelf tops, which are packed with various books and art supplies. Your walls are decorated with different posters, all of which encourage kids to be their best. 
The hustle and bustle of the first day of school helps keep your mind off of your personal life. With a thermos full of hot coffee, you happily introduce yourself to your teaching assistant, Will. He’s a sweet guy, a few years younger than you, and he’s practically bursting with games to teach the kids.
“Before I forget,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I picked up our roster from the office on my way in. Looks like we have ten kids this year.”
“You’re the best,” you tell him gratefully, and he starts putting tiny chairs around tiny tables.
Being new to town, you don’t expect to recognize any of the names on the list. There’s an Abigail Carver, a Joshua Harrington…
And a Harris Munson.
“No fucking way,” you muse, apparently a bit louder than you’d intended, because Will’s head snaps up and he swivels in your direction. “Sorry.”
The sounds of bubbly giggles and excited chatter filing into the hallway grab your attention. One by one, parents start dropping off their kids, kissing them goodbye. There are tears–some from students, some from parents–and you’re quick to reassure everyone that school will be so much fun.
You’re just grabbing the sign-in sheet for Mr. Carver to fill out when you feel a small thump against your legs. When you look down, you see a curly-haired boy staring up at you with wide, brown eyes. 
“This is my classroom!” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to the number 3 on the door. “My name’s Harris. Like the guy from Iron Maiden!” He jumps up and down as he speaks. “Are you my teacher?”
“I am.” You smile and introduce yourself, peering towards the door. “Harris? Did a grown-up drop you off?” And please tell me his name is Wayne, you silently plead. 
“Oh, yeah! My dad has my backpack!” He starts running back to the hallway, only to crash right into Eddie. 
“Little dude, you can’t be running off like—” Eddie stops mid-sentence when his eyes land on you. “Oh, shit.”
You set your jaw, willing yourself to stay strong. He’s on your turf now. 
“Mr. Munson, you need to watch your language,” you warn crossly. 
“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, handing Harris’s backpack to him. “I packed him a snack, um, and a juice box.”
“Okay,” you nod, crouching down to Harris’s eye level and injecting enthusiasm into your voice. “Can you find your cubby? It’s the one with your name on it!”
The little boy bounds over to his assigned spot, hanging his bag on the hook before running over to play with blocks. 
Forced to interact with Eddie, you press up on your knees and say, “Pick-up is at two.”
“Can I say goodbye to my kid before you kick me out? Jeez,” he grunts, calling out to Harris with his arms wide open. Harris hugs him, half-heartedly promising to be on his best behavior before starting to race back to the toys. 
“We walk in the classroom,” you tell him sweetly. “That way, people don’t hurt each other!” You make a point to look over at Eddie when you say the last part, though his gaze is trained on the classroom posters. Harris, innocent and oblivious, walks hurriedly towards the group of kids playing with blocks. 
“Didn’t know you were my kid’s teacher,” Eddie remarks, pressing his tongue into his cheek. 
You shrug. “Maybe I would’ve told you if you called me.”
Shooting you the wide eyes that he passed down to his son, Eddie lets his lower lip jut out in a little pout. “I’m so sorry; life’s just been, like, crazy lately—”
“Exactly what Jeff said you’d pull,” you bite back. “Two PM, Mr. Munson.” You walk towards your students to begin circle time, leaving Eddie dumbfounded. 
Tumblr media
After a long day of wrangling ten four-year-olds, you’re ready to go home and take a nap. The kids are gathered around the table, molding Play-Doh and giggling amongst themselves. By 2:10, everyone’s been picked up. Except for Harris.
“Typical,” you mutter, kneeling next to the boy and smiling sweetly. “Whatcha making, Harris?”
He holds up a lump of the yellow clay. “A dinosaur, see? Roar!” You fake being scared, and he laughs. “Don’t worry; it’s just pretend!”
“Oh, phew!” You wipe imaginary sweat off of your brow. “I was afraid that he was gonna eat me!”
Harris reaches over to where one of the other students had been sitting and plucks a handful of blue Play-Doh off of the table. “Wanna play with me?” He’s looking at you adoringly, and you can’t possibly turn him down.
Just as you’re about to join him, Eddie runs into the room. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. Got, uh, caught up with something.” 
Harris just shrugs, unaffected by his dad’s tardiness. “S’okay. Look!” He holds up the dinosaur proudly, giving another ferocious roar.
“That’s awesome! And super scary.” Eddie ruffles Harris’s curly hair before looking at you. “Can we talk for a sec? Out there?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway.
You huff out a sigh. “Fine,” you concede, and Will slips into the chair next to Harris. 
Eddie closes the door behind him. “Listen,” he begins, twisting his rings around his fingers, ”about the other night…” He trails off, and for a split second, you think he might offer a genuine apology. “I just don’t want this to affect how you treat Harris.”
You bark out an incredulous laugh. “You really think I treat my students any differently based on whether or not I like their parents?” Crossing your arms, you turn back towards the door, throwing out a pointed, “I think it’s best if you leave now.”
Eddie’s voice draws you back into the conversation. “I’ve never had this problem before,” he snorts. 
“Excuse me?”
“Most girls love the thrill of the chase. The will-he, won’t-he. Haven’t struck out yet,” he retorts, a smug grin spreading on his face. 
You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be the first. I don’t know what girls are into your pathetic games, but I’m certainly not one of them. So, please, just go before you say something else ridiculously stupid.”
Eddie bristles at that, standing a bit straighter and clenching his jaw. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, twisting the doorknob and punctuating his frustration with, “Frigid bitch.”
He’s just trying to get under your skin, and you refuse to let him get the best of you. You plaster on a well-practiced fake smile. “If you don’t think that this classroom is a good fit for Harris, you can request a transfer with the office.”
“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart,” he snaps, yanking the door open so aggressively that it smacks into the wall. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”
“Can’t come soon enough.”
Tumblr media
Taglist: @littlepotatobeansworld @kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @definitelynotecho @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday @breezybeesposts @tlclick73 @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @krahk
Let me know if you'd like to be added!
3K notes · View notes
sp0o0kylights · 7 months
Text
I once had to pose in a ton of photos for a friend's AP photography final back in high school so may I present to you:
Steve Harrington, who gave in to Robin's begging that he act as her weird art model for her senior year portfolio (the same one her teacher is encouraging her to bat out of the ballpark and enter into contests.) 
She's doing a whole thing on fashion, subcultures and sexuality using photos and collaged poetry, a project that has Steve trying on different outfits and posing in different places. 
"This might help me land a scholarship, Dingus." She hisses while she's got him bent over her bathtub, spraying parts of his hair blue with wash-out dye.
Steve, soulmate and best friend extraordinaire, goes through it all with minimal (for him) bitching, even if the goth outfit feels absolutely ridiculous, and the 'geek' photoshoot downright laughable.
He starts to have fun when she has him mimic Nancy's straight laced, all A's good girl aura, and equally has a blast with the country look (he has no idea where Robin got a miniature horse but it conned him for every piece of food he had on him and then some.) 
The final piece is the one they're struggling with, the one Robin's now (fake) dying his hair partially blue for. 
A few hours later and he's dressed up once again in a studded leather jacket, the tightest jeans he owns ringed with belts, and combat boots.
 Robin had even talked him into letting her use eyelash glue to attach a few metal studs on his face--two acting as an eyebrow piercing and one on his nose. 
The looks he drew took a minute to get used too when all was said and done, Robin dragging him around Hawkins while she tried to find the 'perfect backdrop' but he's not gonna lie. 
He kinda enjoys being punk Steve.
That is, until Robin has him posing in an alleyway and Eddie Munson comes around the corner, jaw right about falling to the floor.
Even better? 
Eddie doesn't recognize him. 
Not at first, when he siddles up to Steve, nodding to the handkerchief in Steve's back pocket and then flicking the pink triangle pin on his jacket with a finger. 
Steve owes Jonathan a bottle of his father's best alcohol for giving him enough knowledge to get through the music razing Eddie subjects him too, and Steve's all too happy to play the part of punk asshole to Munson's music-snob metalhead.
It's not until Eddies playing with his hair and Robin gives in to letting him have a quick break from the shoot that he gives up the ghost, leaning in to whisper in Eddie's ear. 
"Gotta say, Munson," Steve all but purrs."I wasn't expecting you to fall for the Harrington Charm that fast."
"What?" Eddie asks, jerking his head back to look at him with wide eyes. 
Maybe it's the outfit giving him the extra ounce of courage, but Steve likes to think more that it gives him the freedom to lean forward and brush their lips together. 
Eddie doesn't return it, but that's alright. 
Steve's played this game enough to know that it was merely a hook for a real kiss. 
"Okay." Robin says, annoyed, camera at her side. "Steve, I'm happy that you're finally exploring that repressed as fuck homosexuality we keep arguing about, I really am, but I have to get this last photo!" 
He ignores her, instead nudging Eddie's shoulders.
"Care to pose with me?" Steve asks, grinning. He can tell Eddie still isn't sure if this is a joke, that he's seconds from running, and reaches out to tug on his black handkerchief. "Get Robin her photo, and then talk about this after, Mr. S&M."
Eddie flushes scarlet, but after some reassurance (and wheelding) from Robin, finally agrees. 
(Later, he agrees to a date, which Steve also credits the outfit for.
Even if Robin demands half the credit.) 
2K notes · View notes
Text
Steve who so badly wants his little girl to play sports, but she's completely uninterested in it. But one day he and Eddie pick her up from grandpa Wayne's and she's wearing a droopy pink tutu, but has never looked happier, so they sign her up for classes.
It starts with ballet ("It's the foundation of all dance Steve, it's necessary for her development as a dancer" Dustin tells them), but their little girl heard the noisy ringing of tap shoes one day, and quickly added that to her repertoire.
Saturday mornings were now spent at the studio with the other dance moms. Steve was the star of the waiting room ("She's so lucky to have a dad that's interested in her dancing", "He's perfected the ballet bun, her hair is always perfect", "his wife is so lucky"), so it shocked all the moms when Eddie waltzed in one day with a screwdriver to tighten a loose tap screw, kissed Steve on the cheek, then stopped to watch the class. The moms were hesitant at first, but Eddie became part of their group soon enough.
Eddie, ever the crafty one, was a master with fabric glue. He became the go-to for costume needs, stoning leotards, sewing ribbons, painting shoes. Their little girl was a natural, and if didn't take them long to step into a routine to support their little dancer.
The boys could drop their little girl off backstage, but dads weren't allowed in the dressing rooms at the theater, so Steve and Eddie enlisted the help of Nancy to make sure she was in costume for her call time. (Nancy helped fix her makeup too because unfortunately, her dads had quite the heavy hand).
Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly), Eddie was the more competitive of the two. He gripped Steve's hand as soon as her number was called, lips pursed as he nodded along with all her cues. He whispered a small "yes!" as she landed her pirouette, and a "that's my girl" when all the sounds of her four-count pickup came out clearly. Steve, on the other hand, was an emotional wreck. She could have gone out there and done the chicken dance and Steve would have thought it was the greatest thing in the world. When the routine was done, both of them stood and cheered, clapping Wayne on the back knowing they wouldn't be there without him.
Their little girl found them after the show, holding a bouquet of roses nearly as big as she was. Eddie picked her up and Steve took the flowers from her, and she smiled at both of them with a big toothy grin, glitter dusting Eddie's leather jacket. "Hey Daddy, I was wonderful!"
5K notes · View notes
mixsethaddams · 1 year
Text
Eddie forgets it’s Valentine’s Day until the literal moment he pulls into the parking lot outside of Steve’s job to pick him up after his shift. The big banner in the window offering their February 14th special offers nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.
It was too late now to flip it into reverse and speed to the nearest garage and buy the first box of candy he could find; Steve had spotted him through the window and was already waving at him. Eddie usually arrived a few minutes early but he got caught up staring through the window at the music store downtown. There was an acoustic guitar he was saving up for on display. It would take him almost a year to get there on his current budget, but he was determined. Now that Eddie thought about it, there was definitely some pink ribbon hanging in that window today. He cursed himself again, realising he must’ve seen a million other literal red flags throughout the day that he’d ignored.
“Think, Munson, think….” Eddie grumbled to himself, wringing his hands around the steering wheel with white knuckles.
Steve was walking towards the van now, and the small red gift bag in his hand killed any hope Eddie might have had that he’d forgotten too.
“Happy Valentine’s, Eds,” said Steve brightly as he hopped into the passenger seat, handing over the bag.
Eddie looked into it and found an assortment of a few of his favourite things. A heavy metal magazine, red twizzlers, a pack of smokes, even some new guitar strings. Ah shit, this was perfect. Eddie felt like hell.
“You don’t have the right guitar for those yet though,” Steve pointed out and sure enough, on closer inspection they were nylon acoustic strings and not the steel kind Eddie used for his electric guitar.
“That’s ok it’s not- Wait, yet?” asked Eddie.
Steve looked giddy as he handed over a piece of paper. It was a receipt of sale and Eddie gawped at it in silence for almost a full five minutes. Steve bought him the guitar he’s been staring at in the window. The note on the bottom said he could pick it up tomorrow.
“This is for-”
“Sure is”
“-that I’ve wanted for months-”
“Sure have”
“-is this for real?”
Steve rolled his eyes.
“Yes Eddie it’s for real,” said Steve with a sigh. “You’ve been talking about that thing in your sleep, figured this might make you shut up about it,”
“I will never shut up about this,” said Eddie, still staring at the receipt.
Another moment passed and Steve very politely and gently cleared his throat. Eddie snapped back to reality. Steve’s eyes went wide as Eddie kicked into action. He pulled his jacket off his shoulders and threw it at him. He reached down and tugged his shoes off, threw them at Steve too. All the rings on his hands came next, then his belt, and the keys for the van hit Steve squarely in the chest with a light thud.
“Take it,” he mumbled, adding his socks to the growing pile on Steve’s lap. “All of it,”
Steve let out a confused laugh.
“Eddie what the hell are you doing?” he asked, incredulous.
“You can have the trailer too,” said Eddie, fishing candy wrappers from his pockets and deciding if they were Steve worthy. “Wayne will understand,”
Steve laughed properly now.
“What are you talking about, baby?”
“This!” shrieked Eddie, now halfway out of his t-shirt, waving around the receipt for the guitar. “I can’t compete with this! I can’t give you anything like this, so just-” Eddie’s voice got muffled as his shirt got stuck over his head. “-take everything,”
He flung the piece of clothing and Steve’s head and started to unzip his jeans.
“Whoa whoa whoa!” said Steve, shaking with laughter now as he grabbed Eddie’s wrist. “Put your clothes back on, this isn’t a competition,”
“You’re only saying that because you won,” said Eddie with narrowed eyes.
Steve began to hand Eddie back all the things that had been hurled at him over the last frantic few minutes.
“I don’t need anything from you,” said Steve softly. “Especially not week-old candy wrappers,”
Eddie snatched back his socks.
“I don’t….” He said, embarrassed. “I don’t have anything though…”
Steve chuckled.
“So you can buy me dinner instead,” he told Eddie, reaching over to squeeze his thigh. “Now hurry up and take the rest of your shit back so you can bring me home,”
Eddie nodded solemnly and took each item back as it was given to him. He slipped his t shirt back over his head and when he looked at Steve for the last of his rings, he was holding Eddie’s favourite skull ring between his fingers. It was the only one that was big enough to fit Steve. A plan formed quickly, so organically that Eddie was shocked it hadn’t occurred to him before right now. It…was perfect honestly. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about it before, it just never felt like a good time and… Oh yeah, this was definitely the excuse he needed to just do it
“How ‘bout you keep that one, at least?” suggested Eddie. “Make me feel like I’m not a total failure today,”
“You’re not a failure,” said Steve, rolling his eyes again. “But fine, yes, I’m keeping this one,”
Eddie smiled and held out his hand to take one of Steve’s.
“Well then allow me,” he said, taking the ring. Steve offered up his right hand, and Eddie promptly swatted it away. “Other one,”
Steve’s eyebrow raised higher as he hesitantly gave Eddie his left hand.
“Seriously?” asked Steve, suspicious and amused.
“Unless you’d prefer the right hand?”
“No, no, left works,” said Steve quickly, taking his hand back to wipe off any sweat onto his jeans.
Steve shook out his hand and quickly smoothed down his hair. He plucked a stray starburst wrapper from his shoulder and flicked it to the ground. He settled himself comfortably facing Eddie and placed his left hand in Eddie’s waiting palm.
Eddie slotted the ring onto Steve’s third finger and gave it a little pat once it rested snugly against his knuckle, before bringing it up to his mouth and kissing it. A tiny squeak escaped Steve’s mouth.
“How’s that?” asked Eddie with a smile.
“Just what I wanted,” said Steve, looking like he was on cloud nine, and leaning over to kiss him.
4K notes · View notes
silent-stories · 8 months
Text
𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊
Tumblr media
Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: Your friends, like the whole school, don't like Eddie Munson. You, on the other hand, think you'd like to get to know him but that's probably never going to happen. Until you find yourself locked up with him in the school library.
Tumblr media
The parking lot was crowded, filled with students arriving and getting ready for another day at Hawkings Highschool as you walked alongside your two friends through the sea of ​​people.
"Is this jacket new?" Debby asked as she approached you with her nose, as if to sniff it, with an almost disgusted expression painted on her face.
You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes, it wasn't the first time Debby complained about the way you dressed, among the many faults she seemed to find in you every time.
"Um, yeah." You raised your eyebrows not understanding what she was getting at.
"It's leather." She stated as if the fact were a crime. "Leather stinks."
"Debby, it's not even real leather, it can't stink. I bought it for ten dollars at the flea market."
"Oh. So that's why it stinks."
"Debby, I swear I-"
"Hey, hey" Jess interrupted you "no one stinks in here, okay? Look, Y/N... Debbs and I were planning on going out tomorrow night. Maybe to the movies or something?"
"I'm sorry..."
"Ugh, what you have to do again?" Jess rolled her eyes, smoothing her perfect cheerleading skirt with her hands.
Jess was one of the most popular girls in school, perhaps second only to Chrissy Cunningham and a few other cheerleaders who became known through their jocks boyfriends.
"You know I work almost every day after school. Does the new record store sound familiar?"
"Oh c'mon, why do you have to work so much?" Jess snorted.
"Because I need money?" It was something between an answer and a question, you had never thought anyone would ask you why you decided making your own money was a good idea.
"Hey, it's okay. We'll do it another time okay?" Debby concluded, as you finally entered the school and Jess saw her boyfriend in the distance, talking to other jocks, all in their sparkly green and white school uniforms.
"Hey Beck!" She raised a hand to get the boy's attention and waved at him at the same time, trotting towards him and instantly forgetting you.
"God, she's so in love with him." Debby commented dreamily still by your side, looking at her friend from afar.
You saw the possessive way Beck kissed his girlfriend and then put his arm around her and held her close as he continued to talk to his friends, his hand was basically on her ass. "Mh, i guess she is. I really don't like that guy, anyway."
"How couldn't you? The whole school is as in love with Beck as they are with Jason." She waved at the blond boy who was now laughing at something a member of the basketball team had just said.
"Yeah, I don't like Jason either." You shrugged.
"That's impossible. He's one of the hottest guys I've ever seen."
"Debs, I'm not talking about his physical appearance. I don't like him as a person. I don't like how he behaves and how he treats people around him."
Debby looked at you for a moment with a slight smile on her lips as if she expected me to suddenly tell her you were joking.
"See you later in class, okay?"
You shook your head, thinking it was almost pointless to voice your opinion to people like her.
"Sure, see you later."
Tumblr media
Biology class was silent as the teacher explained the reproduction of cells through mitosis.
From your desk almost at the back of the room, you could see that Jess and Beck had no idea what the the tracher was talking about and kept exchanging notes probably filled with hearts and written in pink marker, you could see that the quiet boy at the first desk was just pretending to listen and that his gaze often fell on the window, probably fantasizing about what he saw outside, and finally, to your surprise, you could see that Eddie Munson, for the first time, had a pen in his hand he seemed to be writing.
Eddie Munson was a guy you never quite understood, both before you had a few classes together and after.
He didn't seem to be very interested in school, his grades or the way he responded to the teachers but it was already the second time he was repeating his last year of high school, proving that deep down, maybe, he didn't want to dropout.
He seemed to like to make all Hawkings think he was the mean and scary cultist people already thought he was yet he spent his free time playing a fantasy board game with freshmen, making them feel accepted in a school in which if you were considered even remotely different you could consider yourself doomed.
Eddie Munson was unusual and one of those people you wanted to get to know and understand what he was really like just because seen from an outside point of view, he seemed like an enigma.
"Well well well, what do we have here, Mr Munson?"
Mr. Walker's voice pulled you out of your thoughts and your head, like that of all your classmates, snapped towards Eddie.
That was the moment you realized that the whole time, Eddie wasn't taking notes but he was drawing something that you couldn't quite see from where you were.
"Oh-oh, someone's in trouble." You heard someone chuckle.
The teacher took the paper from Eddie's hands and looked at it with a wicked smile on his lips. "And what is this supposed to be?"
A slight smirk appeared on Eddie's lips. "Shouldn't you know? You studied animals and that stuff, right?"
The teacher chuckled as he crumpled up the paper and walked over to the bin next to his desk, dropping it among the day's other rubbish.
"I bet the freak will repeat the year for the third time." You hear Beck whisper and Jess laugh right after.
"I won't send you to detention again because I really want this year to be your last." The teacher continued, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Eddie with a severe look. "But if you still don't pay attention to the lessons, you won't give us any other choice. Okay?"
"Okay." Eddie replied after a moment of silence, the way he said it vaguely recalled the professor's tone and you were sure he did it to make fun of him, the smirk on his lips was still there.
After one last glare Mr.Walker sat down again behind his desk and continued reading from the book.
The last laughs faded and the last gazes on Eddie returned to the notebooks, except yours.
You saw how his cocky expression gave way in less than a second when he thought no one was paying attention to him anymore, you saw how he closed his eyes for a moment, huffing as if the existence of the possibility of repeating the year for the third time suddently hit him, while passing a hand over his face with a tired expression.
The look in his eyes was far from the one they had when he teased jocks or made speeches on top of the cafeteria tables.
He had just dropped his facade and no one had even noticed.
You can't deny that for the rest of the lesson you kept eyeing him, only to find him propped up on his elbows on his desk, playing with the rings on his fingers.
When the bell rang Eddie was the first to get up, he grabbed his jacket and darted out of the classroom without once looking back.
You, on the other hand, were the last to leave, after placing your books back in your bag, but as soon as you stepped out the door an idea crossed your mind.
Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was even useless. You didn't even know why you were doing it.
You went back to class for a brief moment, grabbed Eddie's drawing from the bin, folded it quickly without even having time to look at it, stuffed it in your pocket and headed off to the next class.
You told yourself you'd probably never even get the chance to give it back to him.
Tumblr media
"You'll be at the match later, right?" Jess asked as she walked down the hallway next to you after the last bell of the day had rung.
"Mh, maybe." You murmured, thinking of a possible excuse to come up with.
"What do you mean with 'maybe'? What do you have to do this time? Debby said she'll be there."
"Actually, not much, I just gotta go the library to get some books."
"Okay, it won't take a lot. The game starts in half an hour so you have plenty of time." She smiled.
"Yeah, sure. Then I guess I'll be there." You said as you stopped in front of the school library.
"Kay, see you later!" She waved at you before heading towards the gym.
"Good morning Miss Cooper." You greeted the lady behind the desk as soon as you entered the library.
"Hi dear, I close in about fifteen minutes. You know, with the match and everything I don't think many students will come here."
You looked around, the only people who seemed to be there were two girls sitting in the corner and a teacher putting down some books he had borrowed.
"Then I'll try to make it quick." You said before disappearing among the shelves.
The school library was bigger than any student who had never set foot inside could have imagined. You often had found the right books to complete a history or literature honework, and many more times you found books that you enjoyed reading in your spare time, while waiting for customers at the record store where you worked or during boring classes.
Yeah, Eddie Munson wasn't the only one who didn't always pay attention to what the teachers were saying.
While you were there, between the fantasy and horror sections (which were right at the back of the library, almost in the dark, as if whoever had put those books there had wanted to hide them) your thoughts returned to Eddie and you remembered that his drawing was still in your jeans back pocket and you hadn't seen it yet.
You put your bag down on the floor and took the paper out of your back pocket.
It was an animal, that was why he had made that joke to the biology teacher.
The creature looked like a lion but it had a second head that looked like a goat and its tail was a snake. You knew what a chimera was and that drawing looked like it came straight out of a mythology book.
You didn't know Eddie could draw so well and you were sorry Mr. Walker hadn't thought before crumpling it up and throwing him in the bin like it was trash.
Boom.
A sudden noise made you jump.
Boom. Again.
You quickly put the drawing in your bag and walked towards the source of the noise but what you saw was one of the last things you ever expected.
You peeped over a shelf to observe the scene.
Eddie Munson slammed his fists on the closed library door before trying to pull the handle down and failing to open.
"Hello? Is anyone out there? Is this a prank or what?" He asked to whoever was on the other side of the door.
He slammed his hands on the door one last time. "Awesome, really, really awesome." He snorted talking to himself and probably thinking he was alone, then he turned around.
His gaze fell on you. "Jesus Christ." He put a hand to his chest like you scared the shit out of him and you couldn't help but chuckle. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone was kinder.
"What people usually do in libraries. I was looking for books."
"Oh, I think you'll have enough time to read a lot of books, we're stuck here."
You walked to the door as Eddie took off his jacket and left it on Miss. Cooper's desk, revealing his Metallica shirt. Then he sat on it, after moving a pen holder, dangling his legs.
You tried to open the door three times and when you realized there was no hope to go out you gave up and sat down in one of the chairs, facing Eddie.
"Oh my god." You whispered.
"It's okay, don't panic. Someone will notice you're missing and they'll come looking for you." You noticed the way he said "you" as if there was no way anyone would notice he was missing.
"I'm not panicking. I just found an excuse not to go to the game!" You smiled a little too enthusiastically.
"Excuse me, what?" Eddie shook his head as if he was sure he had misunderstood ehat you had said and his curls bounced on his shoulders.
"I've been trying to find an excuse not to go to that stupid match all day. Now I can say I've been stuck in the library."
Eddie made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a laugh, amazed at your reaction. "You know, not to judge, but it's really weird that you're happy to be locked in a room with Eddie "the freak" Munson."
"Well... are you gonna sacrifice me to the devil?" You asked with a slight raise of your eyebrows and the ghost of a smile on your lips; Eddie was surprised for the second time: you were joking with him.
"Mh, no?"
"Okay, then we're good."
Eddie chuckled, ducking his head as if to hide his smile and you found yourself wishing he didn't do it anymore.
"What did you come for?" You asked then.
"For what people usually do in libraries. I was looking for books." He repeated your words with a smirk.
"Ah-ah" your laugh was far from genuine but the corners of Eddie's lips curled up anyway. "Has anyone ever told you that you're really funny?" You asked ironically.
"It may surprise you, but I think you have the honor of being the first." Eddie followed your movements with his eyes as you stood up from your chair and took a few steps between the shelves. Soon the sun would go down and you wouldn't even see the titles of books anymore without the sunbeams filtering through the windows.
"Are you coming or not?" You turned back to him, as if it was obvious you wanted him to come with you.
"Where?" He asked as he jumped off the desk reluctantly.
"To find the perfect book for you."
"Oh, I don't think that-"
"Fantasy and horror are in the back."
The smile you were starting to like returned on his lips. "Lead the way."
Tumblr media
"Where the fuck is she?" Jess asked Debby during the first break of the game, placing her pom-poms on the bench next to her.
"I don't know, she said she would come. You were the last one to see her."
"She said she had to do something really quick and then she'd come. Tomorrow she will come up with a stupid excuse like always."
"She's been getting a lot weird lately, I don't know what's going on with her."
"Yeah, I thought so too."
Tumblr media
Your laughter once again filled the library as the patter of the incessant rain that had been falling for almost an hour continued.
You never thought you'd spend so much time with Eddie one day, but apparently you were wrong. You enjoyed staying there with him.
"I swear it's a good one."
Eddie put all the books you convinced him to take on Miss Cooper's desk.
"It talks about a girl." He commented, as if that was all it took to not be a good book.
"Who has superpowers! Trust me, it's a good book. Near the end there's a lot of blood and stuff."
"Oh well, if 'there's a lot of blood and stuff' then I really should read it."
"Stop making fun me!" You hit his shoulder.
"Ouch!"
"I didn't hurt you."
"Yes, you did."
You rolled your eyes. "Read that damn book. Then tell me if you liked it."
"Well well well, do you wanna keep talking to me when we'll get out of here? Won't you pretend you don't know me?" He questioned, trying to figure out if you were lying.
"Why should I? Are you..." You hesitated "You're cool, I like you."
Eddie studied you for a moment. "You know, Y/N, I think you're a bit of a freak too."
You laughed, glancing at the books leaning on the desk. A weird creature caught your eye and you remembered Eddie's drawing.
"God, I almost forgot!" You took your bag in your hands, looking for the page. "I hope you don't think it's weird. I…I saved your drawing from the bin."
You handed him the paper, it was still a lot wrinkled but it was certainly in a better condition than when the teacher had thrown it in the trash.
Eddie stared at you.
He always had that way of looking at you with his big brown eyes that looked a lot like an animal that doesn't want to show that it's scared but is still reluctant to approach anyone.
He grabbed it slowly. "Why did you save it?"
"I wanted to see what you were drawing. It turned out to be worth it. It's really good."
"It turned out I was right."
You looked at him questioningly.
"You're a bit of a freak too. You put your hands in the trash to get a drawing of someone you didn't even know." He laughed again and you did the same.
You realized you liked the dimples that formed on his face when he smiled.
He took one last look at the drawing before carefully folding it and putting it in his pocket.
"Thank you." He finally said, sincere.
"Anytime."
Eddie's gaze fell on something behind you.
You turned around but didn't see anything different from moments before.
"What?"
"The window, Y/N, the window!" The excitement in his voice didn't even let you realize it was the first time he'd called you by your name.
"The window what?"
"We can get out through the window!" It seemed that at any moment he might start jumping from one side of the room to another.
You walked to the window where the rain continued to beat while Eddie looked behind you for something. "Looks quite high."
"And that's why we're going to need this." When you turned around Eddie was already setting up the ladder under the window after quickly putting on his jacket again.
"God, where did you find that?"
"I saw it earlier in the romance section."
"Were you checking the romance section?" You smirked.
"I walked past it, okay?" He rolled her eyes as he climbed the first rung of the ladder.
"Wait, should I go first?" He asked before going up.
"Go. Don't kill yourself when you jump to the other side."
"Who would care if I die?" He joked. Or you hoped he was.
"I would care! If they found me with your corpse who would they think sacrificed to the devil who?"
Eddie laughed again, shaking his head then opened the window. Lots of raindrops started falling on the library floor.
He sat on the edge before jumping over to the other side.
"Agh!"
"Shit, are you okay?" Your words left your mouth too quickly, your tone far too concerned about someone you've only known for a few hours.
No reply.
"Eddie, I swear-" You said starting up the ladder, the raindrops that passed through the open window falling on your face and in your hair.
"I'm fine!" He laughed.
"Thanks for your quick response." You commented ironically, not before breathing a sigh of relief.
"Aw, were you scared I was hurt?" You sat on the edge, now you could see his smirk as he looked up at you.
Most of his curls had gotten wet and stuck to his forehead and neck.
He was still pretty.
"Shut up."
"You were scared I was hurt!" He exclaimed, laughing, this time he was sure.
"Are you going to keep teasing me or are you going to help me get down from here?"
"Right, sorry." He reached out a hand and helped you jump. His fingers were warm, and having his palm against yours, even if only for a moment, gave you an indescribable feeling of security and safety.
"You okay?" He asked when you both finally got your feet on the ground.
"Yeah." His hand was still holding yours.
"Good."
"STAY FUCKING AWAY FROM HER!" Voices from behind you instantly made you turn around and before you know it Beck and Jason were pushing Eddie away from you. His hand slipped away from yours.
It seemed like the game was over.
"Are you okay? What happened?" Jess and Debby asked you, claiming you by the arm. "Did he hurt you?" Their tone was concerned and almost frightened.
"Hey, hey okay!" You tried to calm everyone down. "Eddie and I got locked in the library and went out the window, that's all."
You noticed that Jason's hands were still gripping Eddie's shirt, like he was ready to bail on him and beat him until he couldn't even remember his name at any moment.
The rain continued to fall incessantly on you, somewhere in the distance a thunder rumbled.
"Jason, leave him."
"Did he-"
"NO! STOP FUCKING ASKING!" You placed a hand on Jason's chest and pushed him away.
For a moment no one spoke. Like everyone was amazed that you didn't seem bothered by Eddie or that he hadn't done you anything wrong in the hours you'd spent locked in the library with him.
They were all looking at you with shocked expressions painted on their faces.
"Could you give me a lift home, please?" You turned to Eddie and this time he seemed to be the shocked one.
He pushed a strand of wet hair away from his eyes. "Yeah. Yes, of course I can."
"Okay, thank you." You kindly placed a hand on his back, as if urging him to leave. "Let's go."
You didn't say goodbye to any of the four students who watched you leave with Eddie "the freak" Munson and you didn't turn once as you walked beside him to his van.
You didn't know exactly how many friends you had just lost but you certainly knew you had a new one.
Tumblr media
Part 2
Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon
2K notes · View notes
novacorpsrecruit · 7 months
Text
Care to Dance?
Inspired by @imfinereallyy’s post
Robin, Steve and Eddie planned this night for weeks. They drove up to Indianapolis to spend the evening at the gay bar. A place where they could be themselves and not worry.
Steve took a shot of vodka before turning around at the bar, facing the dance floor. He could see Robin speed talking to a girl about Nancy’s height, the girl gently playing with the edge of Robin’s jacket.
Eddie … well, he looked hot as ever. He was playing billiards in the corner of the bar with another guy, showing him how to angle the cue just right for the perfect hit. Steve could feel jealousy in the pit of his stomach, but he knew he wasn’t Eddie’s type.
Steve’s been harmlessly flirting with Eddie, putting himself out there on the ledge, only for Eddie to talk about some other guy he met in Indy. Steve wondered if this was the guy. If Eddie had planned this night so he could see his guy. It wasn’t wrong if he did. Steve just wished he knew so he could prepare himself for the heartbreak.
He knew Eddie wasn’t his, so it really shouldn’t be a problem, right?
“Hey, baby,” a deep voice said hotly against the shell for his ear. “How come a pretty thing like you is all alone tonight?”
“I’m not alone,” Steve said, turning to face the man — to face the dark, brown eyes, the devilish grin. “Not anymore. You want a drink?”
“I’d much rather see you on the dance floor,” the man said, lifting his chin. His grin still plastered across His face. “Or are you more interested in staring at that metalhead?”
“No, I’d like to. Dance, I mean,” Steve said, feeling his cheeks heat up. He didn’t realize he was that obvious for Eddie. The man put his hand on the small of Steve’s back as he lead him out to the dance floor. It started out innocent at first, arms raised, slowly wrapping around each other’s body as they danced to Depeche Mode. Eventually, Steve had his back pressed up against the man’s front. The man pressed a hot kiss against Steve’s skin. Suddenly, Steve realized he didn’t know the man’s name.
“I’m Steve,” he said, a little loud to be heard over the music.
“Dan — Hey!”
Steve felt Dan’s body yanked away from him. Steve turned to see Eddie standing in between him and Dan, now on the ground. He felt someone grab his arm, he yanked it — before realizing it was Robin holding onto him.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Dan spat.
“You,” Eddie snarled back, venom on his tongue. “You’re dancing on my friend.”
“Eddie —“
“Steve, I got it,” Eddie said over his shoulder, before turning his attention to Dan. “What gives you the right to dance on him like that?”
“I did,” Steve snapped, pulling himself out of Robin’s grip and stepping in front of Eddie. “He asked me to dance and I said yes. What gives, Eddie? What are you doing?”
“Protecting you,” Eddie wrinkled his brow, like it was obvious. “We know he isn’t your type, Steve.”
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Steve snapped.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Eddie said.
“I don’t know what you have going on,” Dan interrupted, leaning against Steve. His lips were hot near his ear. “But Pretty Boy, you dump the metalhead, you know where to find me.”
“That’s it —“ Eddie nearly lunged forward to chase after Dan, stopped by Robin and Steve.
“Eddie, what the fuck is up with you?” Steve snapped. “We came out to have a good time and you’re ruining it.”
“I’m ruining it?” Eddie scoffed. “He was the one dancing against you! Does that not bother you?”
“No?” Steve wrinkled his nose. “I liked him.”
“Steve,” Robin said, stepping between the two, trying to calm the tension. “You can’t be leading him on like that.”
“Like what?” Steve asked, feeling his gut twist. He knew he was obvious with his crush on Eddie, but he would get over him. He could. If he just found the right person.
“Steve, you’re straight,” Robin said. “He’s probably thinking he was gonna take you home.”
“I’m … straight?” Steve repeated. “What planet are you from?”
“What?!” Eddie and Robin snapped at the same time. Steve looked between the two of them, his expression dropping.
“You guys thought I was straight?” Steve gaped. “I’m grinding on some guy and you think I’m straight?! We’re at a gay club, and you thought I was straight?”
“You’ve always just talked about girls,” Robin said. “We just —“ she looked at Eddie for help, but he provided none. He stood there, shocked, processing.
“Because the guy I want, doesn’t like me that way,” Steve groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m going for fresh air.”
He pushed past Robin and Eddie to the front of the bar and onto the street. He turned down the alleyway, leaning against the building. He took a deep breath, letting it out.
“Hey.”
Steve looked up at Eddie, offering a cigarette from the box.
“I’m sorry about ruining things with Dan,” Eddie said. “You wanna talk?”
“I just — thought you both knew,” Steve said, taking a cigarette. Eddie flicked his lighter, lighting Steve’s cigarette. “I thought I was obvious. And you even said that ‘Us, queers find each other.’”
“I did say that,” Eddie nodded. “I just thought you were safe, and not …”
“Bisexual,” Steve said, officially coming out. “I’m bisexual.”
“Proud of you,” Eddie said. “Now tell me about this guy you like. And why you don’t think he likes you.”
“He’s super cool. Bad ass,” Steve said, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I know I’m not his type.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve been flirting with him for weeks,” Steve said, putting his heart out on the line. If this failed, maybe Dan won’t mind letting him cry on his shoulder. “And he’s ignored all my advances.”
“Maybe he didn’t realize you were flirting with him,” Eddie said. “You know, maybe he thought you were straight?”
Steve’s eyes snapped to Eddie, attempting to read him. Eddie took a drag off his own cigarette.
“Maybe you could try again?” Eddie offered. Steve felt his heart beat rapidly against his chest.
“Eddie —“
“Yes,” Eddie breathed. “Whatever you want. Yes.”
“You,” Steve said. “I want you.”
Eddie crashed his lips against Steve’s in a hot, messy kiss. A little teethy, as they couldn’t help but smile and laugh. They broke away breathless.
“Come on, big boy,” Eddie said, pulling at Steve’s arm. “Let’s go dance.”
•••••
2K notes · View notes
eddieschains · 9 months
Text
Dream Come True
Older!Eddie X Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the older eddie edit <3
Word Count: 2.8k
TW// 18+, age gap (reader is early 20s, Eddie is 50s), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation, face slapping, creampie, let me know if i missed anything!!
It was your parents 25th wedding anniversary. They liked to make a big deal out of it every 5 years, throwing a big party and inviting as many people as they could. You never understood why they couldn’t just go out to dinner alone to celebrate instead of dragging you along to hang out with their old friends. But he made it all worth it.
Eddie Munson. Your dads friend from high school. He was kind of old sure, but he was damn sexy. He had the softest looking long curly brown hair, peppered with just the right amount of grey. The perfect amount of scruff around his face, messy yet neat at the same time. And his arms and chest littered with tattoos.
He played in a metal band that your dad was a part of shortly in college, until he decided he’d rather marry your mom and start a family. Bleh. You had watched all the videos of their shows when he was younger, and while you should’ve been impressed by your dads skills as a musician, you could never take your eyes off of Eddie.
He was still in the band, constantly in LA recording or touring the world. He always made time to visit you and your parents when he was back in Hawkins though. You hadn’t seen him in about 5 years, the last time being your high school graduation, when he could barely keep his eyes off of you. You thought since you were freshly 18 he would finally take you someplace to fuck you raw, but that might’ve just been wishful thinking.
In reality, he didn’t pay much attention to you when he visited. Nothing more than the usual “how have you been” or “how’s school going?”. But, that wasn’t going to stop you from continuing to try and get his attention.
You opted for a short black dress, probably showing a little more cleavage than you usually would, some high heeled boots, and a simple silver necklace. You were in the kitchen of the beach house your parents rented, fixing yourself a drink while you waited for the guests so trickle in.
“Honey, can you greet people at the door and take their coats?” You hear your mom call from the other room. You roll your eyes before taking a sip of your wine and making your way to the door.
You spend the next 30 minutes welcoming all of your parents friends, frustratingly having to answer the same questions over and over and using your best fake laugh to laugh at all of their dad jokes. You were just about ready to leave and scream in the bathroom until you saw the black mustang pull up. Eddie.
You fix you hair and push your boobs up a little more before he makes his way to the door. “Sweetheart.” He bows his head, making his way into the house.
“Eddie.” You do the same. You ask to take his jacket and hang it with the rest. You decide your door duty is over once Eddie arrives, following him into the house. “This is nice. Didn’t know your old man bought a new place.” He says looking around, taking in all the little details.
“Oh it’s not ours, they just rented it for the party. Always need to make a big deal out of their love.” You scoff.
Eddie chuckles, “Marriage is a big deal. You’ll find that out soon enough.”
“No thanks. Marriage is just a big money grab. Why can’t I just spend the rest of my life with the person I love without the governments involvement? Plus it’s harder to get divorced than it is to get married.” You respond.
“You’re a smart girl. What are you studying again?” He asks, genuinely interested.
“Psychology. I graduate in a couple months.” You smile proudly.
“Ah you gonna tug at my brain tonight?” He laughs.
This is your chance to make a move, you think to yourself. “I could tug at something else if you’d like.” You whisper, a smirk on your face.
Eddie coughs, clearing his throat. “Uh i’m gonna go say hi to your parents.” He practically runs away. You would’ve been embarrassed by your boldness if you hadn’t noticed the way his cheeks turned red and his legs shook at your words.
You take your place back in the kitchen, avoiding conversation with the large group of people. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see Eddie grabbing a beer from the fridge.
“Can’t stand being out there any longer without at least one beer.” You chuckle, mumbling in agreement. “When did your parents become so prissy?”
“Oh you mean they haven’t always been like this?” You laugh. “Dad got a promotion a couple years ago so I guess he feels the need to impress them.”
“You should’ve seen him in college, when he was still in the band. He was wild.” Eddie laughs, recalling the memories.
“As wild as you?” You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side.
Eddie’s cheeks turn red, “I’m not wild.”
“You expect me to believe that the man who’s been rocking girls panties off for the last 30 years isn’t a wild one?” You step closer to him, hearing how his breathing changes. “I’ve seen what those hands can do.”
“Hey… stop.” You know he only says it because he should, not that he really wants you to.
You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling his ear down to your mouth. “But i’m not wearing any panties.”
Eddie lets a soft moan escape his mouth before running off. “I need to use the restroom.” You’re left in the kitchen, giggling and smirking to yourself, waiting a couple minutes before following him.
You put your head up to the bathroom door, listening to him heavy breathing and muttering curse words under his breath. You open the door, locking it behind you.
“What the fuck?!” He whisper yells. “What are you doing?”
“Oh I thought that was an invitation. You know, tell the girl you’re going to the bathroom, she follows…” You jump up on the sink, spreading your legs a little wider. “And then the guy fucks her brains out on the sink.”
Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, trying his best not to look you in the eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“But you want to, don’t you?” You jump off the sink, pulling him towards you. “Don’t think I forgot about the way you were looking at my tits at my graduation party. Or the way your eyes immediately went down to my thighs when I greeted you tonight. You’re a dirty old man, and I want to be your filthy… little… girl.” Your words send shivers down his spine.
“Fuck it.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours. His hands immediately reach for your hips, his fingers digging into them sure to leave marks tomorrow. You wrap your arms around the back of his head, pulling on his hair. He lets out a moan, and you take the opportunity to dip your tongue into his mouth.
He taste just like how you imagined. A mix of tobacco and mint, followed with a slight flavor of the beer he just drank. He removes his mouth from yours, moving down your neck, sucking on that sweet spot just behind your ear. His hands travel down to your ass, squeezing and slapping as he continues his assault on your neck.
You twirl your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into you as you feel the heat between your legs growing more and more intense. He backs you up until your back hits the sink, a whimper leaving your mouth. He lifts the bottom of your dress, exposing your naked cunt.
“Fuck. You weren’t lying.” You chuckle as he continues kissing and sucking your skin, moving further down your body. “You did this because you knew I was coming, huh? Or are you just that much of a whore?”
You moan at his words, loving the way he says it. “Oh you like that? Like when I call you a fucking whore?” You mumble an mm-hmm right as he reaches where you needed him the most. “God you have such a pretty pussy, baby. Mind if I have a little taste?”
“Please.” You whimper, and he dives right in. His tongue drags from your entrance, all the way up to your clit. “Fuck, Eddie.” You moan out as his tongue flicks back and forth.
He licks you up and down a few times before focusing on your clit. Attaching his mouth to your aching bud, and sucking it like it was his last meal. You couldn’t speak. It was like he took away your ability to form any kind of words. You’d never felt like this before, never gotten head like this before. He truly was a master, and not just when it came to music.
The filthy sounds of his tongue mixed with your own arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You feel him bring his fingers up to your entrance, playing with it while gathering your wetness. He looks up at you, his mouth still on your cunt, looking for permission to keep going. You nod, and without another word he sinks two fingers into you.
“Oh my- fuck!” You scream out before bringing a hand to your mouth, not wanting to bring attention to what was happening in here. You feel him smile against your pussy, pushing his fingers in and out of you.
His fingers were thick enough, you had no idea how you were supposed to fit, what you assumed, was his even thicker cock. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, not relenting his attack on your clit. He moans into your pussy, sending even more vibrations of pleasure through you. He seemed to really enjoy eating your pussy. Maybe just as much as you were.
He starts to move his fingers faster, flicking his tongue across your clit searching for your orgasm. “Shit, Eddie- Eddie i’m gonna- fuck fuck fuck.” You can’t even make out a cognitive sentence with the pleasure you were feeling.
“Go ahead baby, cum for me. Cum on my face.” That was all you needed to hear before your legs were shaking, closing in on his head as yours was thrown back, cursing his name under your breath.
He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, softly to help you ride out your high. Once your breathing starts to regulate again, he pulls out, placing soft kisses on your thighs before moving up to your mouth. “You okay?” He asks, pecking your lips.
You nod, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Placing your hand on the crotch of his jeans, you can feel just how much he enjoyed that. You palm at his rock hard cock through his pants, while he moans above you into the kiss.
“Can I suck you off?” You ask, continuing to press into him.
“Not gonna last. I need to be inside of you.” He moans, shuffling his pants off as quickly as possible, and you realize that you didn’t have to assume his size anymore. He was big. The biggest you’ve ever seen. Thick too. If you had to picture the perfect dick, he had it.
“Jesus christ.” You mumble, earning a chuckle from him. He spits into his hand, stroking his cock to prepare himself.
“Can I see your tits?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. He pulls the straps of your dress off, nearly tearing them, and pushes the top of your dress down so that it’s sitting on your waist. “Oh my god, we’re you created by the gods or something?”
“I was created by your best friend.” You smirk, reminding him of who exactly he was about to fuck.
He groans, twisting his eyebrows up. “Don’t remind me.” He places his hands on your tits, rubbing and squeezing them in circles before catching one in his mouth.
You place your hand on the back of his head as he licks and sucks on your nipple, his hand playing with the other before switching places. Once he’s has enough, he steps back, grabbing onto his cock and sliding it up and down your folds.
“Ready?” He asks as you nod furiously. He slides just the tip in, testing the waters. You wince as he stretches you open. It hurts only for a moment, but the earlier tongue fucking definitely helped you get used to it quicker.
He pushes more of his length in, an inch at a time until his balls hit the back of your ass. “Shit you’re so fucking tight. Could bust right now.” He moans before pulling out slightly, and pushing back in.
You grab onto his biceps for leverage as he picks up the pace. You pull him closer to you, pushing his hair to one side while your lips find his neck. He groans at the feeling, grabbing the back of your neck as he rapidly begins thrusting in and out of you.
“Oh my god- that’s it, fuck. Feels so good.” You moan in his ear. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, along with each of your moans. He moves his hands down to your hips, using them to fuck you back into him.
“Who would’ve thought my best friends daughter would be such a filthy fucking whore? Sucking my cock into her pussy like this? God you feel so fucking good on my cock like this.” His words continue to egg you on. You can’t say anything other curse words followed by moans of pleasure as he fucks into you.
You start to feel your high approaching again, embarrassingly quick and he takes notice. He pulls your head into his, pressing your forehead against his. “You gonna cum for me again? Gonna drench my fat cock with your cum? Hmm, baby?” You moan in response, but it’s not enough for him. “Use your words, tell me how good i’m making you feel right now.”
You still can’t find the words, and that’s when you feel a sharp slap across your cheek. “Say. It.” He growls, his thrusts speeding up as his thumb takes place on your clit. He rubs perfect circles on your clit while awaiting a response before slapping his palm across your cheek once again. “What the fuck did I just tell you? Say it.”
“Feels so good Eddie. Love the way your cock fills my pussy, gonna make me cum- fuck!” Your body goes limp as your second orgasm crashes over you. Eddie picks you up by your ass, moving your body against the bathroom door.
“That’s right, dirty slut loves the way I feel inside of her.” His body is keeping you up against the door as he continues to fuck into you with a hurried speed, chasing his own high. “How would she feel if I filled her up with my cum?”
All you can muster is a moan, receiving another slap across the face. “Use your fucking words.”
“Yes please Eddie, fill me up. Cum in me. I wanna feel you, please please please.” The overstimulation is almost getting to be too much as you feel a tear slide down your face.
Although, it doesn’t last long as he gives you a couple more hard thrusts before you feel his seed coating your walls. “Fuuuck.” He moans out, his head falling into your neck.
He stills for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his own orgasm before lifting his head to kiss you. He wipes your tears away before slowly sliding out of you and placing you back on your feet.
“You’re something else.” He laughs, pulling his pants back up.
“So are you.” You smile, fixing your dress. “Who knew old dudes like you could fuck so good?”
He shoots you a look, making you giggle. “Don’t tell your parents about this.”
You furrow your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah let me just go down there and let them know their best friend just fucked the shit out of their daughter.” He laughs before exiting the bathroom and returning downstairs to the party.
You wait a couple minutes to follow him, not wanting to be suspected of anything. You make your way to your dad, hoping she didn’t notice that you and Eddie went missing.
“There you are honey. Oh what happened to your dress?” You look down, noticing the tear in your strap. You look over at Eddie, seeing the biggest smirk on his face as he sips his beer.
“Must’ve torn it this morning putting it on.” You respond, avoiding eye contact.
“Well you should go out a jacket on, make yourself look a little put together please.”
You sigh, walking away. “Yes daddy.”
You walk past Eddie as he grabs you arm, whispering in your ear. “Yes daddy.”
2K notes · View notes
lunarzstarz · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bad Idea E.M
Pairing: Fuckboy!EddieMunson x Virgin!Fem!Reader
Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni, drugs, first Times, oral (F receiving), fingering, protected sex, nicknames (Princess/Sweetheart), Eddie being a goof but also an asshole (Slightly proofread)
Summary: Not wanting to leave for college with your virginity still intact, you turn to your last resort that you know can only end terribly…
A/N: Been in a slump for a while and haven’t had time for writing, finally came up with this and got a bit carried away, definitely gonna be a part two!
As always, likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3
Word Count: 6.4K
Tumblr media
This was a bad idea. 
The gravel crunched beneath your shoes as you walked through the trailer park, looking out for that familiar mop of frizzy curls or that beaten up van. Your breath curling in clouds in front of you with the cold, clinging to the thin fabric of your jacket and now regretting your choice of outfit. What sane person wears a skirt in the middle of winter? He’s definitely gonna know you’re desperate. However, as desperate you knew you looked, with your short skirt, hair done nicely and perfect makeup, you hoped your plan would work. 
You planned everything down to this moment around a week ago when you had decided you couldn’t leave high school without at least some sort of experience. The thought of going off to college without even having properly kissed a boy was embarrassing to you, it felt like everyone your age had lost their virginity but you. You felt left out when all your friends would laugh and joke about their first time or talk about their experiences, even if they didn’t sound that much fun, you just wanted to know what all the fuss was about. So you turned to your last option, one you’d known you’d probably regret in a few hours but it was better than nothing. 
Eddie Munson wasn’t just know for being the town freak, everyone knew he was a certified fuck boy. You were pretty sure he had slept with over half the girls in your year, it was like a game to him to see how many notches he could get on his belt. He’d fuck them, then never speak to them again, acting like it never happened or that they just didn’t exist altogether. It was almost sad to watch all those girls chase after him, some of them would stop him in the hallways, asking to see him again or “hangout”, to go on dates. He’d just laugh at them or call them by the wrong name, whether it was on purpose or he really did sleep around that much that he actually does forget you don’t know. 
You were starting to lose all hope, you’d been searching for ten minutes around the small area and there was no sign of him anywhere. Then you heard the sound of music blasting, echoing off the trailers to you from the other side of the park, it sounded like the kind of stuff he played in the school parking lot, it had to be him, so you followed it. It leads you to a trailer with Eddie’s van parked right outside. You drew a deep breath, trying your best to settle any nerves that you had and hurried yourself up the path so that you didn’t have enough time to second guess yourself and turn around. 
You knocked on the door without hesitation, using the time you had left to check over yourself to make sure everything was in the right place, hair and clothes pristine. Shifting your weight back and forth to soothe yourself, nobody answered. Maybe he just can't hear it over the music? You knock again louder this time. 
You knocked on the door without hesitation, using the time you had left to check over yourself to make sure everything was in the right place, hair and clothes pristine. Shifting your weight back and forth to soothe yourself, nobody answered. Maybe he just can't hear it over the music? You knock again louder this time. 
“Alright! I’m coming Jesus chri-” an agitated shout came from inside over the music, it was lowered then the door swung open. Eddie leaned against the doorway, hair disheveled like he had just woken up, even though it was turning six o’clock. He was wearing a tattered Pantera shirt that had some holes in it, revealing some of his fair skin and some grey sweatpants that hung low on his waist, a lit joint dangling from his plush lips. He may have been an asshole, but god he was a hot one. 
“Yes?” he shakes his head at you when you don’t say anything, curls drooping around his face. 
“Weed” you blurt out, muddling up your words “shit- I- sorry, I’m Y/n, I’m here to buy weed, um Chrissy told me you sell and-” you cut yourself off, too much information. You swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Great not even five minutes in and he’s already laughing at me, so much for trying to act cool. 
“Right” he huffs in acknowledgement, taking a drag from the joint, studying you for a moment before disappearing back into the trailer. You stay put, your body succumbing to numbness with the cold biting at your skin as you wait for him to return, but he doesn’t. “Well, come in, it’s fucking freezing” Eddie calls from inside, so you step past the threshold into the living room shutting the door behind you. 
You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for his return as you took in your surroundings, it was a lot more homely than you thought it would be. Hats and mugs lining the walls, you smile to yourself when you spot the Garfield one, similar to yours at home. The place smelt of a mixture of weed and cigarette smoke, coffee and man all masked with the scent of cheap lemon air freshener. 
There was some shuffling coming from down the hall, then Eddie emerged with a bag in hand, catching you staring at his home. “Maid took the night off” he says, snapping you from your thoughts, making you flinch. 
“Oh- I wasn’t judging or anything I jus-” 
“Well it's certainly not the Ritz” he gives you a sarcastic, tight lipped smile. 
“No, no I like it, it's cozy” you offer him a shy smile, you’re sure he’s received a lot of criticism for where he lives, trailer park trash some of the kids had called him. 
He’d heard it before from the girls he took back here, “it’s nice” is what they would always say with a small grimace on their face, they were only saying it so they could get in his pants, but for some reason he could tell you were being earnest. “Yeah well…here, half an ounce for twenty five.” 
You reached for your pocket to fish out the cash, then pause “Wait, Chrissy said you only charge fifte-” 
“I charged Chrissy fifteen, last time I checked, you’re not Chrissy” he looks you up and down, something about his stare making you shiver. “Twenty five or nothing” he says, holding out his palm and the bag from your reach, looking done with the whole ordeal already. 
You think for a moment, trying to come out with something to say, something that wouldn’t cut this visit short and stick with your plan. “How about if I suck your dick? Will you give me the discount then?” you offer, shocking yourself with your sudden boldness. 
Eddie’s eyebrows raise in slight surprise, then he huffs a laugh. It wouldn’t be the first time someone offered him a blowjob or sex or the occasional “I’ll show you my tits” in return for some free weed, wouldn't be the first time he’d taken someone up on it. He was just more surprised it came from you, hadn't expected you to say something like that. 
“I’d much rather prefer the extra ten bucks, thanks for the offer though, but you and I both know you’re better than that princess” he spoke to you in a tone that made you feel dumb, but you’d be lying if you said the nickname didn’t excite you a little. “Now, thirty or nothing” his lips curled into a smug grin. 
You roll your eyes “Fine, twenty five” you pull out your cash and shoved it into his palm, he tosses you the bag. You examine the fuzzy green plant while he counts the money, you’d never smoked before “Could you um- show me how to roll? It’s just I’m not very good at it, I’ll pay extra if-”  
He sets the money aside “Save it, look I’ll show you but after you’re gone, got it?” You nod “Sit down” he motions over to the couch. You took a seat and it was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked, Eddie taking a seat next to you, shuffling close so that your knees knocked together. You could smell his cheap cologne and musk that had been overpowered by the joint he was still smoking through the whole interaction. 
“Here, take this” he passes it to you “Now I’m only gonna do this once, so watch closely.” He lifted the grinder and started the process, you’re doing as he said and watching closely. “Don’t let it go out” he snaps at you, so you place the joint between your lips and puff on it like you’d done with cigarettes. Bad Idea. You start choking on the thick, strong smoke, not being used to it. 
“Jesus Christ-” he gets up and heads to the kitchen grabbing a glass and pouring water into it, racing back over to as you finish your spluttering. “You’ve never smoked before” he says more like a statement than a question. 
“What gave it away?” you croak out, thanking him for the water before taking a sip, he laughs a little. 
“I don’t know, maybe you almost choking to death? Better?” he asks once your breathing is normal again, you nod. “Here, try again, only a little” he instructs, you hesitantly hold the joint up to your lips again and take a small drag of the smoke, holding it in your mouth. “Right, now inhale” you do as he says, the smoke filling your lungs, catching your throat slightly but not as bad as the last time. 
You exhale “Better?” he asks again, returning to his spot next to you. 
“Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting it to be so strong.” 
“Nobody does, now watch” he says, picking up one of the rolling papers and starting the process over. You do try to pay attention like he said, but with each extra drag you took it became harder to focus, your attention wandering to him. Eyes straying to stare at his ringed fingers, his face, lips, his tongue poking out between them in concentration or when he licked along the paper to seal the joint. 
By the time he’s finished you feel light, not too high, but it has definitely made you relax, taking up more space, your bare thigh flush with his clothed one. “Thanks” you say a little breathless as he passes it to you, taking his back. You toss it over in your palm, examining it, he’d perfectly wrapped the plant, it made you wonder what other things those hands could do besides roll joints and play guitar.
“You should go now” he sighs, stretching out and laying back on the couch, spreading his legs to take up more room. 
“I should…” you drawl, about to get up and cut your plan short, no you’ve come this far already “But before I do, I need to ask a favor.”
He scoffs “I don’t do favors” he says, taking the final drag, giving you an unamused look. 
“Look, can you atleast hear me out?” you beg, he doesn’t say anything so you take that as a sign to continue. “It’s just- I know you have this reputation-” 
“I don’t fuck virgins” he interupted you, placing the roach into the ashtray “Not anymore.” 
“I didn’t even finish- I- how do you even know I was gonna ask that and how do you know I’m a virgin?” you say, trying to hide how guilty you looked. You hated how he read you like a book, how he knew that’s what you were here for even if your plan was just that, you hated that you really had been that obvious. 
“Well you all have this…look” he shrugs. 
What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
“And you showed up here, unannounced may I add, in that short skirt in the middle of winter, looking all pretty and shit, wanting to suck my dick for free weed, you’re all the same, it’s funny really” he finishes, a smirk pulling on his lips. 
You tried to ignore the fact that he had called you pretty “For the record, I didn’t want to suck your dick” you muttered low, but he caught it, his smile growing. 
“See, you didn’t deny that I was right, you may as well stuck a sign on your back saying fuck me” he retorts, you could tell he was having fun getting under your skin. 
“Fine! You want to know the real reason I came here?” you snap. 
“Oh please sweetheart do tell” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm as he leans his head in his palm, acting like he was really interested with what you had to say. You glared at him, despite the fact you knew he couldn’t care less about why you were here, you continued anyway. 
“I leave for college soon, I just didn’t wanna go being a frigid fuck okay! I just wanted to do it before I left so I didn’t have to worry about it. I wanted to just lose my virginity then move on, no strings attached and seeing as you’re known for fucking basically anything that moves I came to you as a last resort. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You finish with a long sigh, folding your arms and falling back into the cushions. 
He’s almost stunned for a moment, then finally responds “Listen, I’m flattered, really, but like I said, I don’t fuck virgins, so I’m afraid your gonna have to finish your quest elsewhere.” 
“Why not?” you practically whine, maybe you were desperate, he was thoroughly enjoying it though. 
“They get all clingy after, hard to get rid of, expect me to be all nice and sweet and romantic” he says the word with a grimace, like it hurt him to even say it. 
“Well lucky for you I’m not looking for you to be sweet or romance me, trust me I knew that before I got here” you scoff “Look all you have to do is fuck me and I’ll be on my way.” 
“You wound me, I can be sweet” he screws his face up in faux hurt you just roll your eyes “If I wanted to that is, besides that’s what they all say, then they come crawling back for more, I’m just that good” he says with a cocky grin. 
“Oh please, you’re probably not even that good at it” 
He narrows his eyes at you “Oh you are good at this.” 
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about” of course you knew what you were doing. 
“Oh you most certainly do, I know what game you’re playing sweetheart and it’s not gonna work” 
You stand up to leave, brushing yourself off and reaching for your bag of weed “No, no, if you don’t want to fuck me that's just fine.”
It was the perfect angle for Eddie to catch a glance up your skirt, stealing a peek at your cotton underwear and the wet patch that accompanied them. He smiles to himself. It had been a few days since his last hook up, he was running out of options, he’d already fucked a few people that he enjoyed a handful of times, he’d didn’t wanna go back to them again, god forbid they start thinking they’re special. Maybe he should give you a chance. 
“Now, I didn’t say I didn’t want to” he grabs your wrist, not too tightly, easing you to sit back down, this time in his lap “You swear you’ll leave me alone after, no bullshit?” 
Your confidence from earlier now dwindling from sitting on the edge of his knee, you swallow “I swear, you won’t even have to look at me again.” 
That was apparently all the confirmation he needed because in an instant he was on you. He started off slow, pressing his lips softly against yours with small pecks, not what you were expecting. His hands came to rest on your waist, even though your shirt you could feel the burn it left behind on your skin, you kept your hands to yourself, not knowing where to touch. 
Eddie must’ve sensed this “Here” he mumbles against your lips “Like this.” He pulled back, guiding you to face him, placing your thighs on either side of his hips so that you were straddling him, cores flush together. He slid your jacket off your shoulders and tossed it aside, stroking down your bare arms until he reached your wrists, lifting them to rest your palms against his chest. You run your hands over the expanse of his clothed chest to his shoulders then back again feeling his warmth, looking back at him, he’s watching you intently “Better?” 
“Mhm” you nod, not trusting yourself to speak right now.
“Oh come on, don’t go so quiet on me now, I was quite enjoying your little games” he teases, leaning in to kiss along your jaw, starting to venture down your neck, teeth grazing your skin. 
“I-it’s better” you breathe out, you’d never been this close to anyone before. 
He starts placing wet kisses over the sensitive skin of your neck, you feel him suck onto you, not too harsh at first, testing to see how you respond. You let one of your hands slip up behind his head to tangle your fingers in his messy curls, pushing him further into you. Taking this as a hint he sucks harder earning a gasp from you, feeling his smug grin spread across your skin. 
You pulled him back, noticing the way he groaned, he liked when you tugged on his hair, you’d remember that. It was clumsy, but you crashed your mouth onto his and instead of him making a comment on how bad you were at making out, he quickly corrected you, tongue sliding over your bottom lip before you let him in. It was easier than you thought, the way you got the hang of it quickly following his movements as you explored each others mouths, both of you tasting the shared joint. 
Eddie’s hands that rested on your hips trailed down your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he slipped them up the back of your thighs, groping at them, pulling you impossibly closer. You could already feel the hard on growing beneath you, his hands slipping further up your skirt to cup your ass and use it as leverage to grind you against him. 
“Oh-” you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his at the feeling, your clothed clit brushing against him. 
“That feel good?” he asks, doing it again, harder this time. 
“Y-yeah” you let out a shaky breath and then he’s leaning up to kiss you again. Each drag against your core felt better than the one before, he had you gasping as he ground his hips up into you, groaning against your lips when he felt you start moving on your own. He returned his hands to your waist, letting you move at your own pace, mouthing at any skin he could get at. 
“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging on the hem of your shirt. He felt you stop, eyes shooting open to look at him, he could see the hesitation. 
Nobody had ever seen you like that before “Okay, but- just” you couldn’t find the right words. He’d slept with lots of girls, all kinds, you knew that he wouldn’t judge you or at least you hoped he wouldn’t. 
“What?” he stops, sensing your sudden unease. 
“I- look just don’t judge me okay?” you reach for the bottom of your shirt and he stops you. 
“Why would I do that?” he looked sincere, but the Eddie you heard of, you didn’t think he was capable of such things. 
“I don’t know, it’s just nobody has seen me naked before, and I know you’ve seen a lot of girls, just don’t want you thinking I look weird or something…” you avoid looking at him, oh god what if he thinks I’m weird…
“Listen, I’ve seen you with clothes on and you look pretty fucking hot to me and you’ll probaly look even better naked and as far as weird goes unless you have some third tit I don’t know about, which I’m sure I’d still be pretty into, then you have nothing to worry about.”
You both burst into a fit of laughter at the third tit comment, but it makes you feel alot better and at ease. “Well, no, sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t” you say through your laughter. 
“Okay then, let’s see them” he says, the laughter dying down. You reach for your shirt and pull it up over your head, throwing it aside to join your jacket.
When you look back down Eddie’s smiling at you, well at your boobs, it makes you laugh again “I thought you’d get tired of seeing them by now” you quip, he looks back at you. 
“Trust me, I don’t,” he reached up to cup them, giving them a firm squeeze in their cups before reaching one hand around to unclasp your bra, removing it in record time. He looks up at you, like he’s waiting on something. 
“What? You want me to applaud you?” you tease. 
“Maybe, was thinking I deserve more than that though, maybe a prize?” 
“Maybe if it was your first time, but I know you’ve had plenty of practice, how many girls have you shown that trick to?” you cock your head at him, you enjoyed teasing him “I’ll get back to you though if they make a prize for the worlds cockiest bastard though.”
He rolls his eyes at you “Alright are you here to chit-chat or fuck me?” 
You felt his cock through the thin fabric of your underwear and his pants, he was hard as rock now, your confidence growing, you grind down against it. His eyelids flutter, head resting on the back of the couch “Do that again.” 
So you do, going back to what you were doing moments ago, quickly falling back into rhythm. Eddie grabbed and groped at your chest, kissing all over the new exposed skin, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth making you mewl. He sucked and nipped and caressed every inch he could get at until you were a whining mess.
“Please Eddie” you moan, hands raking through his hair.
“Here or the bedroom?” He asks, pulling off of your chest that was now covered in faded red marks and spit.
You chose the latter. He mumbled for you to hold on, picking you up and carrying you from the couch to the room down the hall.
He placed you down on the bed, you lay in the middle, head propped up on the pillows, looking around the room. It was messy, clothes scattered around the floor, books and sheets of paper with scribbled down lyrics, one had words on it that looked like a love song, you smile to yourself. How ironic.
Your attention is brought back to him when he starts to remove his shirt, revealing all the ink that was hidden behind it, you were taking it all in. You also notice the wet patch on his sweatpants where you had been sitting, your cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment “I’m sorry…” 
He looks at you confused, then notices what you’re looking at and that smug grin returns “It’s all good” he comes back over to the bed, climbing on to lean over you “Another thing about virgins” he starts, undoing the zipper on your skirt and looking up at you for confirmation and continuing when you nod. He pulls it off leaving you in just your underware, his grin spreading when he sees that your fucking soaked “They get wet so easily.” 
“Is that bad?” you ask, looking to find your underwear absolutely ruined. 
“Fuck no, it’s good, really good” he hooks his fingers into the waistband “Can I?” 
“Yes, please” you reply, desperate for him to finally touch you. 
He pulls them off of you, shutting your legs at the sudden cool air hitting your dripping folds. “Just gotta get her warmed up first though, don’t wanna hurt her” he says, guiding your legs apart. You were confused on what he meant by her, but soon caught on that he was talking to your cunt, flushing at the realization. 
He got level with it, you felt so vulnerable like this, his face inches away from your center. “W-what are you doing?” you ask, as he placed soft kisses to the inside of your thighs. 
“Do you trust me?” he pauses, resting his head on your leg. 
“Not in the slightest” you tried to bring that teasing side out again. 
“Good” he smirks up at you “I promise it will feel good, haven’t had a complaint yet.” 
He sees that uncertainty again and takes your hand “Hey, I promise” he tries again and for some reason you believe him. The way he looked at you, it made you feel different. Eddie wasn’t what you had expected, a lot softer, more caring, sweet and nothing like the rumours you’d heard. Perhaps it was because of the comment you made earlier “I can be sweet…if I want to.” He wanted to be sweet with you, but how many other girls had he been sweet with? Maybe he was just being like this to prove a point, you had to remind yourself you wouldn’t be the first and certainly not the last. You weren’t special, he was only doing this because you begged him to, because you were desperate like all the other girls before you. You had to remember that. 
“Always wondered if you’d taste as good as you looked” he says, looking up at you from between your thighs. Always? You were so sure Eddie didn’t even know who you were until about thirty minutes ago, even if you did go to the same school, it was almost like he’d been thinking about you for a while. No. You told yourself that wasn’t what he meant. 
You weren’t given enough time to over think his choice of wording anymore, not when you felt his tongue press against your entrance before licking a long strip all the way up your center to your sensitive clit. 
“Holy shit!” you practically scream, your hand flying up to cover your mouth, you hadn’t been expecting it to feel like that. It was different, but a good different, fucking brilliant different. Your reaction only fueled his ego, so he continued lapping up everything you gave him. The sounds were lewd. You’d feel embarrassed if it hadn’t felt so good. 
You looked down to find him already staring up at you with those big brown eyes, grinding his hips into the mattress below you. He sucked onto your clit, tugging on it and pulling off with a pop “Come on, let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He reached up to pull your hand away, placing it by your side “I like it when they’re loud, it’s good for the reputation” he gives you that cocky grin and you glare at him, but before you can think of something to say back, he’s diving back in again to devour you like a man starved. 
You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten, but everything hits you tenfold when he slips one of his fingers into you making your back arch. His touch felt so good, he definitely knew what he was doing, you were beginning to understand why all those girls came crawling back even after he treated them like shit. 
You felt his second finger push into you and with his hands being bigger than your own, the stretch was there, the slight pressure building, but he’s quick to ease you through it. “Oh fuck- Eddie please I’m gonna-” you’re cut off when he latches onto your clit again, curling the two fingers up into your sweet spot, leaving you moaning his name like a prayer. 
Your hands reach for his hair, your grip tight, tugging on his scalp making him groan into you adding to the mix, making you tip over that edge. Your thighs closed around him, he didn’t mind though, he relished in the feeling of you grinding against his face as you rid out your high. “Fuck-” you whimper, he wasn’t stopping, dragging your orgasm out for as long as he could. It was entirely different to any you’d given yourself, stronger, you felt it through your whole body, like electricity running through your core. 
You had to pry him away when it got too much, your thighs trembling with the oversensitivity. Your head falls back onto the pillows, breathing unsteady. “That was-” you couldn’t even find the words. You open your eyes to find Eddie hovering over you with that smug grin, lips puffy and chin glistening with your arousal. 
“Still don’t think I’m any good?” he leans down to kiss you again, you could taste yourself on him, it made you ache. 
When you finally came back down from your high, you were grabbing at him, his hair, chest, arms, waist, anything to bring him closer. You wanted more, needed him inside of you. You let your hands wander, sliding down the expanse of his stomach to the trail of hair at his waistband, he pulled back. 
“You sure you’re ready?” he asks, brushing away the stray hairs that had stuck to your forehead. 
“Yeah, I’m ready” he gives you one last peck before getting up to remove his sweatpants, opening up the bedside drawer and pulling out a foil packet and tearing it open with his teeth and rolling the condom down his legnth. You were staring at it. You’d never seen a dick in person, so maybe it was just because it was your first time, but he was big. It was definitely gonna be a stretch, you’d heard from others that the first time is almost always painful. 
“You okay?” Eddie asks, sitting on his knees between your legs, hiking them up around his waist, his cock resting against your folds. 
“Y-yeah, I’m okay” you swallow, diverting your eyes back to his. 
“It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but if you need me to stop at any time just let me know, ‘kay?” he was rubbing soothing circles into your hip with the pad of his thumb, trying to get you to relax again. 
“Okay” you nod, voice weak as he starts sliding his tip through your folds, nudging your clit, earning small gasps from you. It catches on your entrance and you screw your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what was coming. He pushes into you, one inch at a time, going slow and watching you for any signs of discomfort or pain. 
The stretch was there, feeling like a dull ache, but nothing like you were expecting. “Just relax” Eddie’s voice made you release the breath you were holding. 
He pushes over half his length into you and you whine, the ache growing a little, but you loved it, you wanted all of him. “Please Eddie” you reach for him, bringing him closer to you, pushing the rest of him inside as he comes face to face with you. You’d never felt so full. 
“Fuck- you can’t just do that” Eddie groans as he bottoms out, feeling your tight walls stretch around him. He was leaning over you, using his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in, watching your face contort beneath him as you adjusted to his size. “Look at me” he whispers, so close you could feel his warm smokey breath on your neck. You open your eyes and he smiles down at you “How’s that feel?” 
“Big” you sigh, the air having been knocked out of you, he laughs. 
“I’m gonna start moving now” he warns you before pulling his hips back slowly, his cock dragging over spots deep inside of you that you hadn’t even known existed. Eddie starts his slow, languid pace, pulling out and thrusting back into at a painfully slow speed. He kisses all over, cheeks, lips, neck, chest, easing in and out, checking in on you, it feels great, but you need more. 
“Can you go a little f-faster?” you gasp, his tip nudges over your sweet spot. 
“Don’t wanna- shit- hurt you” he curses when he feels you squeeze around him, struggling to hold himself back from doing what he really wanted to. 
“Please, I can handle it” you plead “I want it harder, please” voice going up an octave as his hips snapping into you. 
“Don’t think I’d be able to stop if I do Sweetheart, are you sure?” 
“Yes! Please, just- just fuck me already” you huff, frustration building. 
He pulls all the way out until it is just his tip inside, then slamming back into you with brutal force. Your back arches off the mattress, hands twisting in the comforter beneath you as he starts fucking into you at an animalistic pace that had you seeing stars. 
“B-better?” he pants, head falling into the crook of your neck. Maybe it was a praise thing with him, maybe that's why he slept around so much, the validation. 
“Fuck- s-so much better” you cry, hands reaching up to run along his back, nails digging into his pale flesh when you feel him start to bite on your neck, sucking a bruise into your pulse point. With each thrust, he rocked his hips against you, the coarse hair at his base grinding against your clit. 
You slid a hand up along his shoulder blades to the nape of his neck, finding purchase in his hair, tugging on it harshly earning satisfied moans from him. “Christ- You feel so tight, fucking pussy is taking me so well” he pulls away from your neck, meeting your fucked out gaze. 
“Oh my- feels so good Eds, so close” you slur, drunk on his cock, the feeling of him pounding into you, abusing your sweet spot and the wet sounds echoing off the walls, had you hurtling to your impending orgasm. He reached behind and grabbed the back of one of your knees, pushing it further up, hitting you at a new angle that had you chanting his name like it was the only word you knew. 
“That’s it, shit- squeezing me so fucking tight baby, you gonna cum?” he rests his damp forehead “Gonna cum all over my cock?” 
You don’t even have time to find the words, your release hitting you like fucking truck. Your eyes rolling back, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you let the pleasure rattle through your entire body, your ears ringing. Eddie wasn’t long to follow, feeling your slick walls clamp down on him making him spill his load into the condom. 
He collapses on top of you, both of you gasping to catch your breath. You’d never felt anything so amazing, your head was light, your whole body felt like it was on fire. You blink up at the ceiling, Eddie’s face planted in your chest, heartbeat racing. 
A moment passes and you’ve never felt more content in your life, running your fingers through his hair as you both lay there, too spent to move, coming down from your highs. You felt him shift beneath you, pulling out of you making you hiss at the sensitivity. “Fuck” he lets out a long sigh, rolling over to lay next to you. 
“That was incredible” you laugh, suddenly all giddy inside, turning on your side to watch him. He stood up, peeling off the condom and throwing it into the trash before picking up his discarded pants, slipping them back on and grabbing a cigarette from the table next to you. He offers you one which you take, it seemed like the right thing to do. 
He disappeared down the hall, so you stayed where you were, puffing anxiously, he still hadn’t said anything. He returns a moment later, your clothes in hand, picking up the other scattered items from the floor and handing them to you. “Well this was nice and all, but I have company coming over, so you know...” Oh. 
“Oh, yeah, right, sorry” you took the hint and got up, a small ache settling in your core. You silently changed back into your close, trying to ignore all those negative feelings that threatened to arise. Not now You told yourself. You knew this was going to happen, this is how it was always going to be. You had been preparing for this before you had even got here, it’s just how Eddie was, it wasn’t gonna change just for you. Though you had hoped that he’d even lay with you for just a little while or call you pretty one more time. 
Once you were fully dressed, you checked yourself in the mirror, hair disheveled, smudged mascara and lip gloss, the purple bruises forming on your skin. You try your best to look at least half decent before you leave. Eddie clears his throat behind you and you fight the urge to hit him, he was giving you whiplash with how quick he went from being sweet and concerned Eddie to a complete and total douchebag. 
You leave the room, him following closely after you. You grab your bag of weed from the coffee table and turn to him one last time, trying not to show anything other than that you were completely normal about this whole encounter. You’d tried to think of something smart to say, but nothing came. “Thanks for the drugs and well you know…” you divert your eyes to the door, noticing the rain “shit.” 
“Well, better get home quick, looks like a storm is coming” Eddie sighs, opening the door for you. 
You clung to your very thin and very absorbent jacket, giving him one last hateful stare before stepping out onto the porch. “See ya, asshole” you mutter the last word, hoping he didn’t catch it as you walked out into the rain. You knew this was how it was gonna end, you just thought you would have enjoyed it for even a moment longer, but here you were in your soggy shoes and drenched jacket, shivering with the cold, your thoughts eating you up inside as you start you long walk home. 
3K notes · View notes
upsidedownwithsteve · 14 hours
Text
Tumblr media
Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.2K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+
LESSON #1
“Oh, come on,” the guy coaxed, voice wheedling and a little slurred. 
You didn’t really know him, a friend of a friend's cousin who was visiting from out of town but he’d been cute enough to entertain five beers ago. He’d grown sloppier now, a little leery, his hand around your wrist as he udder you towards the dock that overlooked Lover’s Lake. 
You’d dug your heels in, smiling through your teeth as you shook your head and tried not to spill the cheap wine Robin had brought down the front of your shirt. The small beach that was hidden in a cove was surrounded by trees, green in the summer, full and making the crescent moon strip of land perfect for a bonfire and for some drinking. 
There were small crowds of people all over the sandy patch, sitting on blankets and cheap camping chairs, familiar faces lit by the small fire, people you didn’t know as well lingering between, bare feet on the edge of the shoreline. 
You’d came with Eddie, riding in the front seat of his van with a rucksack full of corner store liquor on your lap, the smell of weed coming off strong from the pocket inside his leather jacket. 
“A night full of potential clients, sweetheart, please,” he’d pleaded with you, brown button eyes wide. “The Jacksons have their cousins over from the backass of Georgia, they’ll pay for the rest of our summer if I show them the good shit.”
So you’d agreed, albeit grudgingly, letting your best friend haul you off your sofa and to the get together that you didn’t really want to go to. But Robin was there, and Nancy too, a few people you hadn’t seen since senior year, back for the summer to visit their folks and well - it wasn't all bad. 
Then the evening faded into night and the lavender skies turned inky, the same shade as the lake water. And when people got a little looser, whisky and bud light warming their veins, they laughed as they stripped down to mismatched underwear and dove off the dock, splashing and shrieking in water you couldn’t see the bottom of and god—
You’d, grimaced, turning away from the shoreline and sticking close to Eddie, the boy’s arm always brushing your own even when he was busy dealing, twenties fisted in his hand as he passed over baggies to a twenty something girl you’d never seen before. 
But then that guy found you, relatively sober and sweet until he wasn’t, sloppy with his arm around your neck, breath smelling like smoke and beer and he was pulling you towards the people in the water, telling you it was all part of the fun. You’d protested immediately, intensely, eyes wide as the water came closer and your feet hit the wooden planks of the dock. 
Between the gaps, you could see black, dark water rippling, the moon overhead glinting white off the tips of the current. Eddie hadn’t noticed you were gone until the stranger had dragged you half way down the decking. Your wrist burned from how tight he held it, how hard you tried to twist it from his grasp. 
“Hey— hey!” Eddie had barked out, loud and brash and aggressive enough to make a lot of people around him startle. He broke free from the circle that had gathered around him, lips set in a snarl and determination in his eyes. You knew fine well that when Eddie got his hands on this guy, it wasn’t going to be pretty. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Let her fucking go—”
But Eddie couldn’t reach you in time, not when his boots dug too deep into the sand and there were too many people to push out of the way. The guy laughed at a joke you weren’t a part of and then he pushed. 
Your arms swung wildly, windmilling as gravity took over, your balance gone and you were too near the edge of the dock to do anything about it. Your hands grabbed at the air, fingertips just brushing your new acquaintances shirt and his grinning face and beer blurred eyes were the last thing you saw before you back hit the water. 
It was as dark underneath the surface of the lake as it was above it, an icy shock despite how warm the day had been, how the heat still lingered in the night. You gasped, immediately inhaling, murky water filling your mouth and throat and you kicked, hoping that the direction your hands were clawing in was up. 
But nothing happened and your body didn’t move. 
On the beach, people were murmuring, too drunk to consider the consequences, too stoned to fly into action. Besides, only seconds had passed. Bubbles were floating in the spot you’d gone under, ripples evidence of the fact that you’d once been there. Eddie was sweating, shoving at people as he ripped off his leather jacket and prepared to vault himself onto the water after you but someone at the bottom of the deck beat him to it. 
Steve Harrington had dropped his beer at the first sign of the commotion, his part in the conversation with Jonathan Byers and his friend from California dying off as he turned to watch a guy he didn’t know drag you down the dock. The stranger had been laughing but you hadn’t, and before he could say something, Steve only had a second to look at the absolute horror on your face before you were forced backwards and into the lake. 
He was on his feet immediately, facing back up the dock to where you’d disappeared from, watching wildly for signs of you returning to the surface. And then Eddie was yelling at him, pushing past some underage kids from out of town, half of his jacket hanging from his shoulders and he was yelling. 
“Steve! Steve, she can’t fuckin’ swim, man—”
If Eddie finished the sentence or said anything else, Steve didn’t hear it. He launched himself off of the side, hitting the cold water with a splash he didn’t hear. Water filled his ears and fuck, he could barely see. But somewhere a little below him there was a flash of white from your shirt that had tangled itself up around your neck, your arms flailing wildly as you tried your damn hardest to kick up the way. 
Steve had grabbed your arm, your panic making you slip before he curled his fingers around your wrist and then you were being hauled against him, your back to his chest as he moved with a confidence you could never imagine for yourself. You’d been under for a minute, maybe a little more, maybe a little less, but Steve had your head breaking the surface of the lake in seconds. You were gasping and coughing, your fingernails tattooing half moon lines in Steve’s forearm as you held onto him, fear gripping you as hard as you did him. 
You thought you’d heard his voice, a low murmur in your ear that was fuzzy from the water lodged there, from the buzz and clamour that had then awoken on the beach as the music stopped and people were gathered by the shoreline. 
Eddie had been knee deep in the water, readily meeting you and Steve as the boy swam closer with you, and once your feet hit the sandy bottom, you lurched forward, hands held out to grab Eddie’s waiting ones. 
Steve’s were on your back, keeping you upright and steady until he saw that Eddie had you. You and Steve were both dripping and Eddie was swearing, his cheeks red and his eyes wide, unsure whether to rush you to his van first or hunt down the creep that had put you in danger in the first place. 
But Nancy was rushing forward with a blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders and taking in your chattering teeth and panicked stare, the vice-like grip you had around Eddie’s fingers. “He’s gone,” she said to the boy. “He ran off when he saw Steve dive in. Just get her home, Eddie.”
Steve Harrington had ended up in the front bench with you in Eddie’s van, your shivering frame sandwiched between both boy’s and no one said anything until you all got back to Eddie’s trailer. 
You hadn’t said anything as you’d headed for a hot shower, your wet clothes slapping on the bathroom tiles as you had stripped, slimy weeds and grains of sand stuck to your cold skin and your hands were still shaking as you twisted the squeaky handle to turn the water up hotter still. 
And when Eddie was ripping his room apart for dry clothes for you and Steve to change into, his eyes watery with anger, his throat tight with rage, Steve had been leaning against his door frame with his arms crossed over his damp chest.  
“We’ll get him,” he’d said quietly, just in case you could hear above the spluttering of the old pipes. “We’ll find out who he was and— and we’ll deal with him and then I’m gonna teach her how to swim, alright?”
Eddie nodded, movements sharp and jerky and he handed Steve a pair of black sweatpants and an old Metallica shirt. 
“Alright?” Steve had repeated, chin ducked to make Eddie meet his gaze. He had been so serious. “I’m gonna give her lessons. This won’t happen again.”
Tumblr media
The sky was still half pink as you biked down the empty sidewalk. 
A blue-lilac colour, softer than you’d usually witness due to the early morning hour. The sun was still low, the town still asleep, the watch on your wrist telling you the seven am was still to come. Your bike chain whirred softly, brakes squeaking as you slowed by the chain link fence. 
Hawkins community pool was sun bleached and well loved, the old bunting that draped over the water barely red and blue, the shutters for the food stand still rolled down and locked. The aquamarine slide was now more white and it looked like it would give you an infection if your skin was to snag on one of the exposed bolts. But the gate was open, only just, and you sucked in a deep breath as you let your bike lean against the wall. 
Chlorine filled your nose as you walked in, the generator humming and the pool filter trickling, the sun loungers empty and still stacked against the changing rooms. Despite your early wake up call, the air was already warm, a humid kind of heat that Indiana summers brought, sticky and sweet smelling, like someone had left a jug of peach tea on their porch all day. 
The tiles that surrounded the pool were wet, recently hosed down and cleaned, and your sneakers slapped noisily as you walked towards the waters edge. You didn’t go too close, not at all, grimacing at the bright blue rectangle like it would force you in itself. It seemed somehow more menacing when it was still, a glasslike surface reflecting the cotton candy sky above it, no splashing and screaming kids to fill its depths. 
Then a boy appeared - no, more man than boy - from the staff building. 
He had red shorts on, the fabric sitting above his knees and an old white shirt that you assumed must’ve once said “lifeguard.” He was barefoot and tanned, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and he didn’t even notice you at first, too busy hanging a net back onto the wall. 
Steve Harrington was pretty and tall and he had really good hair. He was quieter than when you’d know him in high school, softer looking than he’d once been. But you didn’t really know him and he didn’t really know you. But he was friends with Eddie and you were friends with Eddie, so somehow, someway, that meant you were kind of, almost friends with him too. 
Except you weren’t and you had no idea why you’d agreed to this. 
“You can change in there.”
You hadn’t expected his voice, so you startled, arms wrapping tighter around your body and crushing the small rucksack that housed your suit and towel. You frowned at the idea, because changing meant one step closer to going into the water and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to do that yet. 
So you said nothing.
Steve just watched you from across the pool, brows raised. And then he shrugged and muttered something that sounded like “suit yourself,” before he threw his sunglasses onto a plastic chair and tugged his shirt over his head. 
You’d barely gotten a chance to really look at the quick flash of tanned, bare skin he exposed before he dove into the water, barely causing a ripple. You were slack jawed as you watched him move seamlessly below the surface, his body a pretty shade of blue as his muscles flexed, strong back and broad shoulders stretching as he swam. 
When he reappeared, much closer to you, Steve braced his forearms on the edge of the pool and dragged a hand through his wet hair, strands of it plastered to his forehead, water clinging to his lashes. 
You didn’t know where to look. 
“You’re not going to learn much if you don’t take your clothes off.”
Despite the way his words warmed you, skin heating up the same way the morning was, you scowled. You didn’t want to be here. Not at the pool, not around water, not with Steve Harrington and certainly not at seven in the morning on a Saturday. 
And now you were standing under the morning sun and the same boy that saved you from the lake was squinting up at you from the pool below and you were only really here because Eddie had begged you. 
It had been a whole week and you could still taste lake water on the back of your tongue. 
“Changing rooms are over there,” Steve motioned to the building behind you with a tilt of his head.
You tried not to look at him, or the water, when you nodded tightly, dragging yourself off to the ladies section. And when you came back out, the sun had risen just a little more and Steve was still in the pool, floating easily on his back as he used his arms to move slowly around the water. The rays were glinting off of the water and him, toned shoulders and soft stomach glittering with water droplets and suddenly the pool seemed an even scarier place to be. 
The old swimsuit you’d managed to pull on was a little on the tight side, all black and supposed to be modest if the too small size hasn’t been cutting into the swells of your ass and chest. It had been a good few years since you’d had reason to put it on, and even then, you hadn’t gone near water. A beach day on the Fourth of July with enough space between you and the ocean that you hadn’t even minded the sand too much. 
So you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, trying to hide the expanse of skin there, your knees pressed together and you looked downright mournful about your current predicament. If Steve hadn’t remembered the fear in your eyes that night in the lake as you scrambled for him under the water, he would’ve cracked a joke or two. 
Instead, he swam over to you cautiously, fingers curling around the edge of the pool as he swiped his wet hair from his forehead. “Hey,” he began gently. The town still hadn’t woken up yet, not really. It was just Steve’s voice and the hum of the pool filter, some cicadas buzzing in a bush behind the far side of the fence. “Nothing bad is going to happen, alright? Not here.”
You looked at him like you didn’t believe him, eyes wide and lips drawn into a tight line. You didn’t move an inch. And it wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, not really. You were exactly friends but Steve was close with Eddie and if Eddie trusted him— well. He got an automatic pass from you too. 
Eddie didn’t trust a whole lot of people. 
But the problem wasn’t Steve. It was most definitely the rectangle full of blue water, shimmering and pretty as it was, it looked deep, the slope of it going downdowndown and Steve’s body was distorted under the ripples, his legs looking broken and mangled, the surface lapping way too high across his shoulders and neck. 
Your body felt like lead, a dead weight ready to sink to the pool floor, legs unable to push yourself back up. 
You took a step back. 
“Okay,” Steve sighed and he tried really hard to not sound impatient. The day had barely begun and he’d make a promise to Eddie, one he really didn’t want to break. “We’ll take it back a little, yeah? Come over here.” 
You watched as he pulled himself out of the pool with an impressively low amount of effort. The muscles in his shoulders and back bunched up and he swung a leg onto the tiles before standing, water dripping off of him, cool and splashing your toes. He made a point of not looking at your and all your bare skin as he walked around the edge of the pool, right towards the back of the lot where there was a set of stairs that led into the shallow end. 
He didn’t look over his shoulder to check if you were following and you only hesitated for a second or two before you did. And when he reached the top of the steps, he waited for you and held out his hand, brows raised expectantly. 
You stared back. 
The water didn’t look as scary here, but not by a whole bunch. It was lighter blue, the white tiles on the bottom of the pool about more visible and the numbers that were flaking and painted on the side of the wall said the depth was only two and a half feet. 
You could drown in less, the voice in your head told you. It sounded a lot like your mom. 
So you kept your arms crossed for a little while longer, teeth gnawing unkindly at your bottom lip. Steve just waited, hand extended palm up and after a minute had passed, he took one step into the pool, standing ankle deep in the water on the top stair. He caught your eye then, smiling in what he hope was a reassuring way. 
“D’you trust me?” He asked, eyes squinting in the bright sun. There was a mole on his cheek that disappeared into the lines of his skin when he smiled. “S’okay if you don’t yet, but, I’m a lifeguard here, so like, legally? I can’t let you die.”
You surprised both yourself and the boy when you snorted unexpectedly, a sharp sound of amusement that you used a hand to cover up. But it seemed to encourage Steve, ‘cause he positively beamed at you, his hand wiggling, vying for your own. 
“C’mon, I promise I won’t let you go,” he swore. He leaned further forward, his fingers close enough to brush the softness of your stomach, if he so pleased. He didn’t. “We’ll start nice and easy today, alright?”
It felt momentous, when you slid your hand into his. He was still warm despite his pool damp skin, like the sun lived inside his bones. He grinned, victorious, nodding encouragingly when you moved to the edge of the steps. 
“We’ll do them one at a time, alright?” Steve moved to stand in front of you, his other hand catching your free one until he was guiding you closer and closer to the water, walking himself backwards with every step you took forward. You flinched when your foot hit the first step, the water warmer than you’d anticipated, brushing up just past your ankle. 
You had two feet in the pool and two hands in Steve Harrington’s and it felt like the entire world was about to implode on you. 
“There you go,” Steve murmured, warmth and a little hum of pride in his voice. “See? S’not bad, right? I’ve still got you.” So you took another step and another and suddenly the water was lapping at your knees. You froze, grip tightening around Steve’s fingers and your wide eyes found his, all too aware of the way you were very much in the pool now. 
“Hey, hey,” Steve’s thumbs rubbed over the back of your knuckles, the skin there burning from holding him so tightly. “Listen. Do you trust me?”
There was no joke that followed the question this time. His eyes were earnest and warm, serious as they looked at you, searching your face for any signs that you were going to flee. It took you a few seconds, swallowing dryly and taking a deep, staggering breath before you nodded. You did, you did trust him, and that was as surprising as you being in the pool. 
“Yeah,” you told Steve, voice a little weak and hoarse. “Yeah, I trust you.”
He squeezed your fingers and his smile was gentle, an achingly kind thing that made your eyes water in the corners and Steve let you stand on that middle step for a little while longer. “Good,” he finally said and his voice was as soft as yours had been. You tried not to look at the way the chain around his throat caught the sunlight, the silver turning golden, just like his skin. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”
You nodded, feverish and your movements jagged and you tore your eyes from Steve to look at your bare feet on the steps, your toes waving under the ripples, longer and skinnier and then fatter and wider. The sight made you dizzy, stomach tumbling a little but even still, you wished you’d had the forethought to paint your toenails something pretty. 
“Two more steps, alright?” 
Steve’s encouragement broke your senseless wanderings and you nodded again, words caught in your throat and he was leading you forward, hands wrapped around your own and he grinned when you took another step down, the water hitting your upper thighs. It was cooler as you went deeper, a stark contrast to the warm, sticky air above it and your skin prickled, mouth falling in a quiet gasp. Another step, happening almost too fast for you to overthink it, the water at your hips and making you swear as you rose onto your toes almost instinctively. 
Steve laughed, not unkindly, as you moved closer to him, unthinking as your hands left his in favour of clinging to his upper arms. It felt safer like that, anchoring yourself to his solid frame, but there was so much bare skin involved and not a lot of space left between you both as you held on for dear life. His fingertips brushed the sides of your waist before he must’ve thought better of it, cheeks burning before his hands cupped your elbows and he took a little step back so your chest didn’t touch his. 
“You’re alright,” he murmured. “You did it, yeah? That’s it. You’re in.”
Steve was grinning and you tried to smile too, trying to feel proud of your little accomplishment but the rest of the pool was stretched out behind Steve’s shoulder and the water there was so much more blue, cerulean leading into indigo until you couldn’t see the bottom anymore. 
Steve must’ve noticed cause he shook his head, the hand cupping your elbow smoothing up your arm until he squeezed, water dripping from his palms and coasting down your skin. “Hey, hey, none of that. That’s for another day. We’re staying here, alright?”
You grimaced at the idea of ‘another day,’ but his words still didn’t ease you. You licked at your lips, dots of chlorine on them and despite how stupid you felt, you asked anyway. “What if— what if l, like, float over that way? Accidentally.”
Steve smiled like he couldn’t help himself, laughter in his eyes and a grin that he quickly tamed. “We’re not gonna catch any waves in here, this isn’t Maui,” he was still smiling, teasing, just a little. But sensing your growing worry, he continued. “And if that had to happen - which it won’t - I’ll come and get you.”
You stared at him, heartbeat in your throat and so many other questions on your tongue. They died there, fizzing into nothing as Steve held your gaze, a silent promise in his brown eyes. You’d never noticed how long and thick his lashes were, still wet and spiky from when he’d been swimming as you changed. 
Maybe there was doubt in your eyes, or maybe Steve just felt the need to reiterate his statement, but when he said once more, “I’ll come get you, just like last time,” you really did believe him. 
434 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: frienemies-to-lovers, kinda mean!Eddie? shy!reader, swearing, a lil smoochin', mentions of lack of confidence and poor self image, cute nicknames
a/n: hi bb, will you be my valentine? I don't love writing mean!eddie but its okay because we can always fix him :)
Tumblr media
Valentine’s Day.
A day which the Hawkins High elite are positively buzzing over the plethora of cheap red and pink decorations.
Cheerleaders swoon over poorly constructed cards from their popular boyfriends, while dozens of obnoxious mylar balloons take up way too much space in the already crowded hallways.
Beyond the 14th of February, the reason for all the excitement was the annual Hawkins High Valentine’s Day dance—of which you were head of the committee.
Was it because you were the only Senior to volunteer their time to coordinating it instead of attending it? Maybe, but at least it gave you a reason to show up to the dance without a date.
...and avoid looking like the pitiful wallflower you are.
You also knew you’d have no time to rush home and get ready after your last class, so here you are. Standing outside of the AV Club door, decked out in your new crushed-velvet dress. It's ruby red and dangerously short.
This was definitely out of your comfort zone. You typically preferred to be invisible. It’s easier that way; no one can hurt what they can’t see. Right?
But when this dress caught your eye in the mall shop window, it was the first time you could ever remember wanting to be seen. Wanting to try to look like the pretty girls who walk the halls everyday vying for the attention of others.
The dance gave you the perfect excuse. Sure, it’s not like you had a date or anyone asking you to go, but you felt so beautiful. The way the dress hugged your body made all the staring and whispering as you walked down the hallway so, so worth it.
“Hey—whoa…” Dustin’s voice dropped when he walked around the corner, arms full of equipment. “Y-you look fantastic!” He said proudly.
Dustin was your favorite Freshmen, always kind and happy to see you.
“Aw, thanks Dusty! You don’t think it’s too much?” You lifted your boot, inspecting it falsely.
Dustin smiled, “It’s too much for 6th period Spanish, but not for Valentine’s Day that’s for sure.”
He unlocked the door, and held it for you.
Dusting grabbed a pen and paper to write down what you’d need the AV Club’s help with after school.
With hands on your hips, you looked around the room. “Okay, so I definitely need the projector, and if you could set it up before—“
An annoying, loud, cocky voice cut you off. “Henderson! What the hell is takin’ you so long?”
Eddie fucking Munson.
You watched as he sauntered into the room, DIO jacket and all. He clapped Dustin on the shoulders before turning his gaze to you.
“Holy shit. That you, Mouse?”
Mouse. A nickname you loathed.
You’d made the mistake of sitting at the Hellfire table your Freshman year, and he’s never let let you live it down. Once Eddie saw just how shy you were, he made it his mission to get under your skin.
He'd plopped down into the seat next to you, assuming you were there to cause him and the guys trouble. “New girl’s trying to get in good with the freaks, hm?”
You jumped and began to frantically pack your belongings, “I-I…I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I’ll just go—"
When he realized you were nervous, he changed his tone. No longer was he on edge, but rather trying to make you laugh. Show you it's okay to give him a taste of his own medicine. “No no, little mouse. You’re not scurrying away that easily.”
Four years later, you’re both still here and Eddie’s been a thorn in your side ever since. You thought you'd be rid of him once he graduated, but he flunked--twice. Condemning you to another year full of his nonsense.
His obnoxious, overly-confident, doe-eyed nonsense.
“Munson.” You couldn’t help the eye roll. “Dustin and I are working on something so,” you flicked your hand toward the door. “Skedaddle.”
“Oof,” he teased. “You kiss your mother with that potty mouth?”
Eddie walked past Dustin, hands on his hips as he took you in. “Why, may I ask, are you dressed so fancy, princess? Hot date with a frog?”
Okay, guess we’re playing this game.
“The only frog I know is you, Munson.”
His hand flew to his heart. “You hear this, Henderson? Who knew Mouse could be such a brat?”
“If you’ll excuse me,” you attempt to sidestep him, but he blocks your path. Big brown eyes watching your every move. “Don’t you have anything better to do than push my buttons?” It’s a pitiful gripe. You know he enjoys this far too much.
“C’mon, sweetheart. If I didn’t talk to you, who the hell would?”
Ouch.
Something no doubt said in jest, but it hurt to realize just how right he was. You had tons of acquaintances, and you got along great with the teachers. As for friends, the well's a bit dry in that department.
You cleared away the tightness in you throat. “Yeah, I don’t have time for this. I’m actually contributing to society. How about you?” Your face was twisted into a sarcastic smile, attempting to hide the hurt.
Eddie on the other hand thought the two of you were simply playing your favorite game. Seeing just how flustered he could make you before you gave him a taste of his own medicine.
“Yeah, you’re a real Nancy Reagan.” He laughed, gesturing to your dress.
Your eyes honed in on him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means,” he reached out, sweeping a piece of hair off of your cheek. “If you wanted a little attention, you didn’t have to do all this.”
This.
Said as if the word tasted rotten. Disgusted by what you’d considered to be you at your most beautiful.
I must look like a fucking fool.
The stinging in your eyes got stronger every second you stood in his presence. Your gaze locked onto the floor, following your feet as you left. “Bye, Dustin. I’ll see you later.”
Dustin protested, calling you back before turning his disappointed glare to Eddie.
“Dude…” he chided.
Eddie scoffed, “What? Henderson I was joking—she knows that, okay? That’s our whole thing.”
"Eddie, she was crying!"
Were you? No, no way. This is what the two of you do.
"No, she wasn't." He said unconvincingly. "You don't know her like I do, little buddy. She's a good girl, loves the cat-and-mouse of it all." Eddie wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or Dustin.
Tumblr media
Eddie had a fuck of a time in O'Donnell's class, and now on top of all of that, he's late to set up Hellfire.
He moved a bit quicker down the hall, easy enough since most of the school left to get ready for the Desperate Dance. He intentionally always schedules DND on nights like this, that way he'd never have to be caught dead--
Eddie's stopped in his tracks at the sight of the trashcan at the end of the hall. He spots a familiar piece of red fabric hanging out of the bin.
He pulled it like a magician, revealing more and more of the velvet clothing until its fully removed,
A dress.
Your dress.
Why the fuck did you throw it in the trash? You we're the most confident Eddie had ever seen you while you wore this thing.
...and you looked drop dead gorgeous, but that's beside the point.
He heard your voice coming from the gym, and abandoned all thoughts of DND.
Eddie burst through the double doors, ignoring the frilly pink and red decorations for the dance. He weaved between the underclassmen carefully setting up the tables and backdrops to make his way over to you.
You, who now instead of being in your beautiful fucking dress, are in you school-supplied gym uniform. Your hair was pulled back, no longer falling in the perfectly natural way you had it earlier. Your makeup was gone--Eddie didn't mind that, he didn't think you needed it anyway.
But you'd never looked so small to him.
He called your name more gently than you've ever heard him speak. When you turned and saw your dress in his grip, you wanted to disappear.
Had he come to gloat?
"Why the hell was this in the trash?" he's not smirking, or sarcastic when he says it.
"Didn't like it." It's all the pain in your throat will let you get out.
You walk away from him, hurrying to find something else to do beside stand there and be made fun of by Eddie Munson.
"Bullshit," he calls after you, quick on your heels. "You don't wear a dress like this and look the way you look in it and just decide you don't like it."
You could feel the tears returning as soon as you stopped walking. "I don't know what you wanna hear," your back was to Eddie, but you felt his gaze regardless. "I just didn't like it...anymore, okay?"
The fake organization of the ribbons in front of you didn't deter him, he remained behind you in silence until he couldn't take it anymore.
"Did...did I say something? Earlier, in the AV Club." He spoke so softly, and with such sincerity, you'd never know it was Eddie talking to you.
You sniffled, angry at yourself for letting him hear how upset you were. "I don't know what you mean."
"Henderson," He's quick on your heels. "Henderson said you were crying when you left."
You don't--can't say anything. Trying desperately to will the tightness in your throat to go away and the tears to dry before they fall from your eyes. A small, shaking breath passes your lips.
"Please look at me, Mouse." His voice is hushed when he calls out to you.
You turn to him begrudgingly. Hoping if he saw the mess he made he'd leave well enough alone.
But when he sees your face, with red eyes and damp tear-stained cheeks, his heart falls into his stomach.
"Oh, oh sweetheart--"
You beat him to it. "I'm fine, Munson. Just...just give me the stupid thing, okay? I'm better off invisible, anyway."
"You've never been invisible to me." Eddie hands you the dress, and watches as you wring it between your hands. "I'm sorry, Mouse."
You scoff, "You didn't--"
"Yes I did," He says firmly. Eddie steps into you, closer than he's been before. "I made an asinine comment thinking we were playing our little game, but it's not a game if someone gets hurt, especially you."
Eddie swipes away the tear on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You looked beautiful. You're always beautiful, but that dress? Honey, I couldn't think straight. I'm a dumbass half the time, but I turned into a god damned Neanderthal when I saw you in that."
Your brain couldn't process what was happening. It almost sounded like Eddie...liked you?
"I thought," You looked down, embarrassed to even say it out loud. "I finally felt pretty, pretty enough to be seen and not just in the background."
Eddie's brow softens at your words, "Mouse, I see you. You're one of the only things I look for throughout the day. Always lookin' out for the pretty shy girl with the smile that makes me go weak in the knees."
You laugh at that. "I guess I always look for the obnoxious metal head that's way too good at getting under my skin."
Eddie chest rumbles with a laugh, too. "You're too good at calling me on my crap, what do you expect me to do?"
A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, and it has Eddie clearing his throat. "Can--can I give you a hug? Hate that I made my favorite girl cry."
The smile on your face speaks volumes, but you nod anyway.
When you're wrapped in Eddie's arms, his warmth seeps through your bones, relieving any tension or nerves. His scent invades your senses, warming your belly and heart. You melt into him completely.
Eddie can't believe how well you fit in his arms, like a damn puzzle piece if you asked him. He smells you shampoo, and memorizes the fragrance, filing it away in his mind as his new favorite smell.
When you pull back, he leans his forehead on yours. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I really am."
You nod, moving his head a bit as it rests on yours. "I know."
Eddie steps away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Ya know, uh, if you're not busy, I'm running a DND campaign tonight. I'd love it if you sat in and maybe after...I don't know, maybe I could take you to Benny's?"
You smirked, eyes narrowing at him. "You asking me out, Munson?"
His eyes widened in sheer panic, "Oh--oh my God, I read this all wrong, huh? Please just forget--"
You're quick to ease his worry. "I'd love too."
Putting the dress on the table, you offer Eddie your hand. "Show me the way, Dungeon Master."
He takes it eagerly, but doesn't walk anywhere yet.
"Eddie?" You giggle.
"One second, princess. Damn knees turned to jelly again."
778 notes · View notes
Text
Grocery shopping with Steve Harrington should not be such an arousing task, but it is.
It so is.
Eddie swears on all of his calloused fingers that watching Steve strut down the cereal aisle with his little shopping cart is better than hand stuff.
Seriously. He always walks a few feet behind Steve, just to get the perfect view of that award winning ass (Eddie made him a trophy for it last Valentine’s Day - it’s on their mantle).
They’ve been together for what? Eight years? And it never gets any less sexy. Watching him reach for the granola bars on the top shelf, stretching his annoyingly tucked in shirt.
Eddie pretends to peer through imaginary opera binoculars as Steve reads over the nutrition label. Steve flips it over a couple of times because he always forgets which brand he likes better - the blue box or the red box. Eddie never reminds him that his favorite is the blue box because the whole charade is too adorable.
But once Steve figures it out, he tosses the blue box into the cart, and Eddie always lets out this rumbly throat sound at the sight.
Steve turns his neck to look at Eddie. “This again?”
“This always.” Eddie catches up to Steve’s side at the canned food section, slides his hand in Steve’s back pocket. “Never not this.”
Steve rolls his eyes and bends down to grab a few cans of chicken noodle soup. Which holy fuck, seeing his boyfriend at a 75° angle holding his favorite soup preference? Eddie might as well be packaged and placed on the shelf. Cause his mind is turning to liquid. He’s becoming a bowl of horny broth at the sight of Steve all domestic and bent over.
Eddie quickly flicks off his jacket because the entire store just warmed up exponentially. Global warming doesn’t have shit on Steve Harrington holding discounted canned goods.
Steve lightly smacks Eddie's arm. “Pull yourself together.”
“I’ll pull your self onto my self.”
“Really?” Steve snorts. “That was the best you could come up with?”
“Yeah well, the lower quadrant of my brain shut off the second I visualized your ass dimple in the middle of the bread aisle.” Eddie explains, untucking one edge of Steve’s shirt.
“Sorry for the inconvenience to your grocery-kink brain.”
“You should be.” Grocery kink. Steve with a shopping cart kink. Eddie has both, no doubt.
And it’s totally true. The bread aisle is usually where all hope is lost for him. Fluffy breads, kneading dough, squishy carbs all around them. Steve’s sides are just begging to be squeezed in that aisle (amongst other places). The deli employee outwardly gawks as Eddie pokes at Steve's waist, pinching any area of skin that he can get his hands on.
"Just making sure the products are nice and fresh!" Eddie shouts to the employee, hugging Steve firmly from behind. The poor meat-slicing guy laughs nervously before scurrying into the stock room. Honestly, Eddie should probably feel more sympathetic but it's so hard to focus on anything else when Steve kisses his cheek. Accepts his weird affections fully.
"These people don't get paid enough to put up with your shit." Steve is laughing as he says it though. Clearly not that bothered by all of the attention he's getting. That's part of the reason they work so well together. They're absolute attention whores, equally.
"Okay, cut it out." Steve wiggles out from Eddie's grasp. "You're gonna smush the sourdough."
Eddie freezes. Mulls over the consequences over the next thing he's about to say. "Is that an invitation?"
"Ew."
"You said it."
"You twisted it."
"How could I not?"
"You need help." Steve turns down the next aisle, still speaking as he stays on task. "Preferably the kind that involves a person with a legal pad and a couch that you can lie down on."
Eddie snickers, thoroughly loves it when Steve bites back. Makes the chase feel like it just started, even after all these years.
He keeps it together for roughly twelve more minutes, which is probably a record. Eddie also deserves a trophy on their mantle for that - he's gonna hint to Steve about investing in one whenever they get back home.
But the aisle where Eddie’s composure levels malfunction entirely, is the frozen food section. See, whenever Steve opens the door to get milk or eggs or whatever essential dairy item they need, a rush of frigid air blows out. Makes Steve’s already bitable skin all bumpy. His neck is covered in little chill bumps, all of his baby hairs stick up with his raised skin.
This is the only instance where Eddie mildly wishes he were a cannibal, just to give Steve a little chomp. A little nibble at his change in skin texture. Eddie's not even sure why the chill bumps send him over the edge but they do - every damn time.
“Baby, we’ve talked about this.” Steve says once Eddie gets him pinned up behind the corner freezer in the very back.
"There were no snoopy old ladies around this time." Eddie licks all the way up to Steve's ear, tugging gently around the edges. "I checked."
Steve huffs once before taking Eddie's face with both hands, kissing him deep. The rest of his body is cold from the surrounding freezers, but Steve's lips are warm. Hotter every time Eddie's mouth connects to his again. Steve still tastes like the nectarine samples they had back at the produce aisle. The taste drives Eddie to suck on Steve's bottom lip, drinking up any leftover flavor he can. Make Steve's natural pout even more plush than it normally is.
He untucks the rest of Steve's annoying polo - lets his hands slide all the way around, landing at the small of Steve's back. Eddie presses his fingers into Steve's skin, making him shiver. Causing more chill bumps to rise. Ones that he created this time.
They've kissed like this over a thousand times by now, but it always feels different. It’s a new kiss on a new day.
And Eddie couldn't give a single fuck if the deli employee or the snoopy old lady saw them making out next to the lactose-free cheese selection. He'd show off his stupidly gorgeous boyfriend everywhere, make a complete spectacle out of it every damn time.
Steve would let him do it too. Eddie bets that Steve would let him get away with a full anarchist uprising if he wanted. Which he does. Kinda. After they're done kissing, obviously.
They stop only because Steve lets his lips part and his fingers drag down Eddie's chest. And whenever Steve does that move, he's approximately thirty seconds away from moaning explicit words. Loudly too. Eddie knows all of Steve's physical indicators by heart now. It’s practically Eddie’s native language, he would speak only that one if he could.
Eddie takes the cue to stash all of his hormones away - goes back to dotting small pecks all over Steve's face. He needs to get Steve laughing instead of panting. It's safer that way. Eddie isn't trying to get arrested in a supermarket for christ's sake (although that would make one hell of a story for family reunions).
They're sort of blotchy, all pinks and reds, as they get to the checkout line. The cashier must think their complexion is permanently like this. Every time she’s seen them, they’re blushed-up like Vegas showgirls. Eddie is immune to the embarrassment of the situation. He's pretty sure Steve is too - he can tell by the way Steve is still leaning all over him while he fumbles to get his wallet open. All love-drunk and kittenish.
They head back to their car, and Eddie gets one last look at Steve's signature shopping cart strut. He sighs dramatically - crushed inside that he'll have to wait till their next grocery run to see it again.
"That's it." Steve says after Eddie sighs for the fifth time. "You're returning the cart."
"Why?"
"It's punishment for your ridiculous behavior."
"Rude."
"Necessary."
"Fine." Eddie snatches the handle and stomps all the way to the cart corral at the front of the store.
This is an outrage. Steve should know that his sexy cart-walking encore is the best part of Shopping Day. Seeing him walk further away before returning - always doing a little hair ruffle thing as he comes back. It's Eddie's own version of Baywatch and Steve is ruining it.
He slides into the passenger seat, slamming the car door to emphasize his anger.
"Steve Harrington, I'm so fucking mad at y-"
Eddie can't even finish his sentence before Steve's mouth is on his. It's a messier kiss this time, Steve is doing all the moving while Eddie tries to figure out what's going on. He pulls back, raising both eyebrows.
"I get it now." Steve answers Eddie's nonverbal 'what the fuck' question.
"Get what?"
"The shopping cart thing." Steve looks Eddie up and down. "I get it."
Holy shit. "Were you checking me out?"
Steve nods. Shrugs. Nods again.
"How much time do you think we have before the ice cream melts?" Steve motions to the backseat, tucking in his lips, hiding a smirk.
Oh. That. They're doing that.
"I'd say we have..." Eddie checks the nonexistent watch on his wrist. "More than enough time."
They haven't had desperate car sex like this since their first year of dating. It's so good that Eddie wonders why they stopped having desperate car sex.
For the rest of the car ride home, they're obnoxiously touchy-feely. Eddie's hand stays glued to Steve's overpriced jeans. The denim is much softer than any pair of jeans that Eddie owns. Maybe that's why they cost a fortune.
Steve takes one hand off the steering wheel whenever there's a straight shot - rubs his fingers over Eddie's knuckles. Bounces off his rings like stepping stones.
They're nauseating. If Eddie saw any other couple act like this, he'd throw tomatoes ate them. Taunt them mercilessly.
But Steve Harrington is the prototype that future scientists will use one day to build their genetically flawless human race. So Eddie is allowed to be as nauseating and revolting as he wants.
Their plan failed. The ice cream is completely melted by the time they get home. But who fucking cares? Eddie is dating someone with his same weird shopping cart kink and that's all he could ever ask for.
And besides, that just means that they’ll have to go grocery shopping again.
3K notes · View notes