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Hi again guys!! I think I’ve gotten a good fraction into my story, but I’d like to know what you all think before I move farther.
Here we go😥
The summer after senior year moved achingly slow. Your brand new diploma sitting uselessly up in a picture frame, passing by it every time you go up or down the stairs. A weighing memento of the 13 years you spent mostly in solitude. 7 hours a day. Five days a week. For so long all you had was a childhood friend, Nancy Wheeler, the girl you remember staying out with until dinner time, playing on bikes around town and visiting little music stores, doing makeup terribly, all the little girl things until the two of you grew into women. You, as a woman, were soft, sweet, insanely-weapon gradely intelligent. You have always been strongly feminine, your unabashed love for unicorns, always showing up with makeup despite just on a grocery run.
That loneliness was until meeting Edward James Munson. Hawkins pariah. The name you didn’t go a day without hearing. Walking the halls? Heard at least something about the “freak.” His demonic club that, from your perspective, was just some intricate fantasy game. His side hustles; drug dealing, playing in a, once again, demonic band. Music that would taint your soul and corrupt your morals. Apparently, in short, he was a no good-generational-devil worshiping heathen.
Nancy introduced you to the “heathen.” Sure, he had sassy outbursts, had his own aesthetic, did in fact sell drugs. However, he’s fallen out the drug selling after graduation. Working at an auto shop just outside Hawkins, trying to make a living. The highly looked upon god knows he will not be getting into a college, so luckily he had an early start with auto mechanics from grooming of his felon dad. All of that put to the side, you thought he was the most handsome freak in the universe. The first day meeting him, you were hooked. His wiry, tall body subsequently filled by lean muscles from transporting amplifiers and guitars, working on janky vehicles that were brought in. He was just so sexy to you. It was honestly just a bonus, being that he was insanely sweet and hooked to you too just as quickly. When introducing yourself in the dim lighting of the sorry excuse for a bar, it was sickening for the friends around you.
You stood beside Nancy and Jonathon nervously, in a bar for the first time to support a friend of her friend. You did not belong there at all, all soft and feminine. A woman clearly of morals, in the area reluctantly. Eddie notices you while talking between Christopher Lacon and Ashton Rock, his pals from around that matched aesthetics but looked entirely different. Approaching Nancy and you.
“Would you like to introduce me, Wheeler?”
He said in a smooth, tranquil voice, not taking his eyes off of you until he got the inquiry out.
“I would had you not been chatting it up.”
She then introduced the two of you, Eddie followed with a fond smile. He reached out to shake your hand which you extend yours in acceptance. He holds it and covers the rest of your hand with his other.
“Hi.” You said sheepishly with a smile to match, the thoughts in your mind were a stark contrast.
Eddie, charmed by the characteristic as he smiled back. “You have actually lived here your whole life? I’m upset I never noticed.”
He scrutinized with genuine disappointment, dropping his hands to his sides. “Guess I have tonight to make up.” A boyish, crooked grin takes his face, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. Not too sure what to do with his hands anymore now that they aren’t touching you. He felt repulsed yet intrigued by the immediate attraction to such a contrast of a girl.
Reminder, this is my first story and I really would like some tips and critiquing
Here is the cover I had the pleasure of illustrating for the Polish edition of "The Husky and His White Cat Shizun" Published by Wydawnictwo Czarna Owca
summary: sometimes home is made of little things. a borrowed sweatshirt, a cup of hot chocolate, wayne’s blanket, and the strange comfort of eddie munson’s beautiful mess of a world. ☕🖤
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
tags: soft!eddie x you, no y/n, slow burn, friends to lovers, oblivious!eddie, mutual pining, the munson way of caring, protective!eddie, caring!eddie, teasing!eddie, dramatic!eddie, sweet!eddie, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, comfort after a bad day, sharing clothes, wearing eddie’s clothes, rainy night, cozy vibes, found family, wayne munson being wayne, eddie munson being eddie munson, acts of service, playful banter, soft moments, fluff, romantic tension, critical frost damage avoided ♡
warning: excessive fluff, dangerously high levels of domestic comfort, may cause sudden cravings for hot chocolate and a place on wayne’s couch
words: ~11k (not sorry)
notes: damn, i'm a curl girl ☆ next chapter not that long ☆ no promise ☆
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By the time Eddie finally admitted defeat, the two of you were long past the point of pretending you weren't freezing.
The rain showed no mercy. In cold, heavy sheets it had soaked clean through your jacket, your shirt, your jeans, until every step sent water sloshing inside your shoes.
"That," Eddie announced solemnly, lifting one foot for emphasis, "is the sound of my dignity leaving my body." The demonstration came with a squelch so horrific it deserved its own eulogy.
Water trickled down the back of your neck no matter how tightly you hunched your shoulders against the wind.
"I swear," Eddie muttered, shoving a handful of dripping curls out of his face. They flopped immediately back into place, as if the gesture had never happened. "That van picked the absolute worst possible moment to die on us."
"Honestly," you said, glancing out at the downpour surrounding you, "it really committed to the bit."
Eddie barked out a laugh.
"Yeah. Couldn't just break down Tuesday morning. Saving me from Mr. Kaminski."
Thunder rolled across the sky, low and rumbling, followed by another gust of wind that drove the rain sideways. Instinct made you turn your face away, though it barely made a difference anymore — there wasn't a single dry inch left on you to protect.
"This doesn't even count as rain anymore," you called out over the wind.
Eddie tipped his head back, blinking up at the vast, churning sky.
"This is personal. Whoever's in charge today clearly has a grudge."
The trailer finally emerged through the curtain of rain, its porch light glowing, a tiny beacon against the dark evening.
"Welcome to paradise," Eddie joked, relief bleeding through, plain and impossible to miss.
He took the steps two at a time and fished his keys from his pocket. You followed him up the creaking wooden steps, your soaked sneakers slipping slightly against the damp wood. Eddie's fingers were numb from the cold, and it took him two tries before he managed to get the key into the lock.
"Come on," he muttered under his breath. "Work with me."
The key finally turned.
Warmth hit you the moment Eddie opened the door. Soft carpet replaced splintered porch boards beneath your feet. The old couch sat exactly where it always had, its faded fabric still carrying the faint smell of cigarette smoke. A stack of cassette cases leaned beside it, old newspaper forgotten on the coffee table, Eddie's clothes thrown over the backrest. After the cold and the rain, seeing the familiar mess of the trailer felt strangely comforting.
Eddie pushed the door open and stepped aside with an exaggerated sweep of his arm.
"After you."
"Wow," you laughed, brushing past him into the warmth, grateful for the sudden absence of wind and rain, "an actual gentleman."
"Don't get used to it," he called after you, already following close behind, the door swinging shut against the storm at his back.
"Figured I'd let the prettier one go first."
Looking down at yourself, soaked through, hair plastered to your face, you glanced back at him, equally drenched, a stray drop of rain still clinging to the tip of his nose.
"Pretty sure," you countered, fighting a grin, "neither of us is winning that title right now."
Wayne looked up from the kitchen sink, a dish towel slung over one shoulder, and let out a low chuckle at the sight of you.
"Well, don't you two look like a couple of drowned raccoons."
"Hi, Mr. Munson," you greeted, brushing damp strands of hair away from your face.
"Evening." Wayne's gaze swept over the two of you, amusement written plainly across his face.
"We definitely feel like it," you admitted, and that only seemed to deepen it.
Eddie looked at you, smiling slightly, before glancing down at himself. Apparently deciding the situation was still salvageable, he ran a hand through his hair, giving the curls one final adjustment before looking back at you.
"I think we pulled it off."
Wayne's mouth twitched, clearly unconvinced.
"Sure you did." Wayne returned his attention to the dishes.
"So, what happened?"
"Van died at the corner of Birch," Eddie grunted, wrestling himself out of his leather jacket, which protested with an unmistakable squeak.
"Real dramatic exit." Eddie threw his hands up, miming an explosion. "Smoke and everything."
Slipping out of your soaked sneakers, you lined them up neatly beside the door. Even so, droplets of rain escaped your clothes, gathering in tiny puddles across the floor.
"Sorry," you apologized, looking down at your feet. "We're making such a mess."
Wayne glanced at the puddle for all of half a second before looking back at you.
"I'd rather have wet floors than you two still out there." He nodded toward the stools at the kitchen counter and grabbed another towel from the rack.
"Here."
The moment it touched your hands, you let out an embarrassingly happy sigh.
"Oh my god, this is so good. Thank you!"
The towel had officially become the only thing standing between you and looking completely miserable, so you claimed a spot at the counter and pressed it over your face for a moment, breathing in the faint scent of laundry soap.
Eddie caught himself looking at you again. When you noticed, he didn't flinch. He just smiled to himself.
"You got the van off the road?" The mug was the next victim of the soapy water, disappearing beneath the bubbles as Wayne continued the cleanup.
"Yeah!" Eddie held his arms out, presenting the full disaster of his outfit, a fresh black smear now added to the wreckage.
"Such a drama queen till the very end."
"Locked it?" The mug received its final rinse, earned its place on the drying rack, and joined the others in pretending the cleanup was almost over.
"Mm-hm," Eddie hummed, wringing out the hem of his shirt with a grimace. "Though I'm not entirely convinced the thing is alive enough to care."
A small nod from Wayne.
"Good."
Outside, thunder rolled low across the sky again, deep enough to make the windows tremble, followed almost immediately by rain hammering even harder against the roof.
"Callin' Wade in the morning, see if he can tow it. No sense sending anyone out in this."
A last few crumbs met their inevitable end as Wayne cleared the plate, his gaze drifting toward the rain outside.
Eddie followed his gaze to the window and rubbed a hand through his still-dripping curls. A few drops of water fell onto the floor between his feet.
"Yeah... figured."
Judging by the amount of water Eddie was still shedding, Wayne clearly decided reinforcements were necessary. He grabbed another towel and tossed it toward him.
Catching it with a small nod of thanks, Eddie immediately started rubbing it through his hair, trying to get some of the water out. It didn't do much. His curls only seemed to grow more unruly, sticking up in every direction as he dragged the towel through them.
"...Fixed it," he grinned.
Looking at him for a beat, you smiled.
"Your curls beg to differ."
One look at the two of you was enough to notice something was off. Wayne's attention stayed on you a moment longer, quietly assessing.
"Doesn't look like you're warming up much. You're turning blue."
Glancing down, you found your hands trembling, a tremor you hadn't noticed until now.
"I'm fine," you said, the words coming out before you'd even thought them through.
Wayne's expression eased. "I know. Still, those wet clothes aren't helping." He tilted his head toward the hallway. "There's something dry in there. You two should get out of those."
The towel found its new home around Eddie's neck.
"Yeah, let's not turn into human icicles today."
The matter was apparently settled. The mugs waiting on the drying rack had already claimed Wayne's attention.
Eddie shook his head, a fond smile crossing his face at how quickly Wayne had moved on.
"Come on," he said, already heading toward his room and flicking on the light as he stepped inside.
The familiar chaos greeted you — band posters curling at the edges, cassette tapes scattered across every surface, the faint smell of candle wax and old paper.
Idle curiosity led your eyes over the room, taking in what Eddie would generously call "organized," until something on his desk caught your attention.
Your black marker.
It had quite obviously made itself at home beside his paints. Rolling it once between your fingers, you decided it had apparently chosen its new owner.
Honestly, you couldn't blame it.
"Alright..." Eddie announced, giving the drawer a good yank and a rattle until it finally gave in with a squeak. "You've got quite the selection here. Black, black, or..." He paused, his fingers moving through the pile with an almost adorable amount of concentration. "...premium black."
Suddenly you were all ears. Your whole body ached for something warm and dry.
"Ooh, premium is in stock?"
Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie flashed a wide, almost boyish grin.
"Oh, absolutely."
The clothes rustled beneath his hands, the soft clink of his rings filling the quiet room before he suddenly stopped.
"Actually... scratch that," he said, pulling out a faded black sweatshirt with a soft, stretched-out collar that had clearly seen better days. He held it up with exaggerated care, giving it an approving nod before presenting it to you.
"This is premium cozy black."
"...oh wow," you breathed, running your fingers over the worn fabric.
"Pretty sure this one comes with a comfort bonus," you hummed, giving the sleeve another squeeze.
Honestly, you understood the temptation of keeping someone else's stuff now — and you weren't sure you'd give this back either.
Eddie caught your reaction, and the look on his face made it painfully obvious he considered this a personal victory.
The clothes were arranged with the seriousness of a royal offering, the sweater and sweatpants presented like priceless family heirlooms before an unnecessarily elegant bow completed the performance.
"My lady," he announced with all the drama of a royal decree.
Not one to be outdone, you pressed a hand to your chest and inclined your head in return, accepting the bundle with matching gravity.
"A most generous offering," you declared, voice as regal as you could manage.
Clearly delighted that you were playing along, Eddie's grin stretched wider.
Tightening your grip on the pile, you felt the sweater's warmth seeping into your cold hands, a small, unexpected act of mercy. You'd barely taken a step when Eddie froze.
"Hold on..." He turned around so fast his wet curls sent droplets flying. "The ceremony isn't complete."
The drawer was immediately searched for the next essential item, and after a moment of dramatic rummaging, another treasure emerged with the same theatrical care as before.
"This is of great importance!" The final piece of the ensemble made its appearance, completing the royal collection before he gave you a quick wink. "Protection against frostbite... a devastating weakness of your toes."
"Socks!" you gasped, your eyes widening with perfectly feigned astonishment. "A rare item. I thought these were only a legend."
Eddie just stared at you. A crooked, pleased look crossed his face, warm and immediate.
"Okay," he said, his nose scrunching the way it did when he was trying not to smile too hard. "See, this is why you're dangerous."
You laughed. "Oh! Dangerous?"
"Yeah." He nodded seriously. "Encouraging me."
His expression shifted as your fingers brushed against his while you adjusted the stack of clothes between you, and just like that, the teasing dropped from his face.
Neither of you moved at first.
Then Eddie seemed to remember he was still holding onto the socks, and his fingers loosened with a small, almost embarrassed laugh.
"Uh... I'll let you get changed."
He lingered for just a second longer before backing toward the door.
"Eddie?"
He paused mid-step, glancing back over his shoulder.
"Thanks," you said, lifting the stack of clothes slightly between you.
Another grin, smaller this time but no less genuine, and then he slipped out into the hallway, pulling the door gently shut behind him.
His footsteps continued on to the bathroom, followed by the soft click of that door too, and the faint rustle of him getting out of his own wet clothes.
The trailer creaked softly around you, settling beneath the weight of the storm. Rain battered the roof like it was trying to break in, but inside, everything felt strangely safe. Warm. The world outside could do whatever it wanted, and it didn't matter quite as much in here.
The sweatshirt was a little too big, the sleeves falling over your hands no matter how many times you pushed them back. The sweatpants sat loose around your ankles, soft and warm, swallowing up the last bit of cold the rain had left behind.
Surprised by how quickly something unfamiliar had started to feel comfortable, you padded out of Eddie's room sock-footed. The overly dramatic sock ceremony had, unfortunately, been justified. They were really good socks.
Wayne was still waging war on the last of the dishes while Eddie gathered up mugs and plates, dressed and looking suspiciously put-together for someone who'd needed a small eternity just to find matching socks. The second Eddie turned and caught sight of you, a grin spread across his face.
Since a proper reveal lost some of its impact while still holding a bundle of soggy clothes, you draped them over the back of one of the kitchen stools.
"Well?" you asked, turning around with amused patience, arms held out as if giving him time to properly assess the situation.
Eddie set the dishes down and gave you a slow once-over, rubbing thoughtfully at his chin as though he were considering a life-altering decision.
"Give it five minutes."
"Until what, exactly?" you asked, eyes widening in exaggerated concern.
"Until you're quoting Sabbath, arguing about guitar solos, and informing innocent strangers their taste in music is objectively wrong."
Your straight face didn't survive that. Eddie's dramatic prediction was ridiculous enough to make you laugh, mostly because there was a little too much truth in it.
Eddie blinked, like he'd expected to tease you, not actually catch you off guard.
"Oh," you said, drawing yourself up, chin lifting as you slipped into the performance, "I think I'm already there. Just missing the curls, though."
Reaching up, you gave your hair a dramatic, tousled fluff in a poor imitation of his curls.
The accusation clearly required a response. His eyebrows lifted, and whatever amusement had been there was quickly replaced by the need to defend his reputation.
"My lady," you intoned in your best imitation of Eddie's voice — low, gravelly and just a touch too dramatic.
"Okay, that's slander," Eddie scoffed, stepping toward you with a look of mock offense, one finger already raised in protest. "I don't sound like that!"
"You absolutely do," you teased, tugging one sleeve back without really looking, already so used to the oversized sweatshirt it barely seemed to register anymore. "All the time!"
Still shaking his head, Eddie caught the end of one sleeve between his fingers, lifting it like an exhibit in a courtroom.
"The sweatshirt?" he declared. "Convincing."
His gaze flicked to you.
"The impression? Criminal."
"You hear yourself, right?" you mocked, trying to pull your arm free.
A playful nudge of your shoulder was your next attempt to escape, but Eddie only tightened his hold, clearly far too entertained to let you go. Instead, he only laughed, reached around you, and caught you in an easy hug from behind, his chin nearly brushing your shoulder.
"Eddieee—" you protested playfully, trying to pry one of his arms loose.
It accomplished absolutely nothing except making him laugh harder.
Eddie had seen you soaked through, freezing, trying not to make a fuss about it. Now you were standing there wearing his clothes, arguing with him over a fake accent. Somehow, that got to him more than it should have.
The microwave beeped, apparently confident it had done its job. A quick stir proved otherwise. After a moment of silent judgment, Wayne sent the pot back in for another minute.
"You two planning on eating tonight, or should I just leave you to the fashion show?"
Eddie's arms stayed exactly where they were, making it perfectly clear he had no intention of letting go. Defeat, apparently, came with remarkably comfortable conditions. Settling back against him, you decided fighting it was wildly overrated.
"We're conducting a highly scientific evaluation," Eddie declared.
"Of?" Wayne asked, already setting slices of toast onto waiting plates.
You pretended to give the question careful consideration. "My commitment to premium cozy."
Wayne looked over then. His eyes moved from the sweatshirt to the easy way Eddie still had you tucked against him before settling on your face. The sight seemed to please him.
"Looks committed."
Catching your smile, Wayne gave the toast another look before deciding a little extra butter couldn't hurt.
Tipping your head back against Eddie, you couldn't resist the quiet triumph in your grin.
"Heard that?"
With a small click of his tongue, Eddie leaned closer, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper.
"You're clearly working together."
Apparently deciding the toast hadn't suffered enough, Wayne added another generous helping of butter before his attention shifted to the stool.
"Probably oughta hang 'em up before we forget."
Only then did Eddie seem to notice he was still holding onto you. He blinked, almost surprised by the fact that he hadn't wanted to let go, before easing his arms away.
For a second, you missed the easy comfort of his arms before reminding yourself that he had only been messing around.
"Got it." Before you could even move, the bundle was already being taken. Eddie shifted it into both hands, then paused, looking down at the pile.
"Oh." His brows lifted. "That's... all..."
Heat crept up your neck. "...Maybe."
"Even—" He stopped himself, catching the word before it could fully leave him. "Never mind."
"What?" You laughed. "You know rain doesn't magically stop at your jeans, right?"
A small shake of his head followed, apparently realizing the flaw in his own logic.
"Yeah. Just... Didn't really think that through."
The microwave beeped again, clearly done negotiating. Wayne rescued the pot from the microwave, gave the stew one last stir like he was personally responsible for its survival, and glanced toward the bathroom.
"Ed. The rack in the bathroom folds out."
"I know."
"Last time you said that, you put a wet towel over the shower curtain."
Looking offended, Eddie adjusted the bundle in his arms.
"That was one time," he said, already heading to the bathroom.
The cupboard opened with a quiet creak. Wayne paused for a moment, then took down the bowls stacked inside.
"Need a hand?" you asked, drumming your fingertips lightly against the edge of the counter.
He glanced back at you, a little surprised by the offer.
"That's kind of you. Think I can manage," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
A mug of hot chocolate appeared in front of you a moment later, courtesy of Wayne, who had clearly decided you needed warming up more than you needed another argument.
"Careful, though. Made it the way Ed likes it. Might rot your teeth."
Steam curled up carrying the rich scent of melted chocolate and something faintly like cinnamon. A few marshmallows floated on top, their edges softened into pale, gooey ribbons.
Warmth sank into your fingers the moment you wrapped both hands around the mug. The first sip was almost too hot, way too sweet, and somehow exactly right.
"Okay," you said, "this explains so much about him."
Wayne huffed, already reaching for the ladle. "Told you. Kid's got a sweet tooth. Always has."
"I would've guessed coffee." The second sip was just as reckless as the first, sugar be damned, and the warmth kept spreading from the inside out.
"Oh, that too. Mostly when he's got a paper due at two in the morning." Wayne tapped the ladle against the pot rim, stew flicking across the counter. "But given the choice? Hot chocolate wins every time."
"So that's his secret weakness." Clearly enjoying this far too much, you cradled the mug a little closer, already plotting a marshmallow stockpile. "Good to know. I'll keep a bag of marshmallows around for emergencies."
That actually got a proper laugh out of Wayne, low and warm. "Don't you give him ideas. He'll start negotiating a marshmallow allowance."
As Wayne cleared some space on the counter, something underneath the magazines caught your attention. Clint Eastwood stared back at you, looking deeply offended by his temporary imprisonment. You pulled the VHS case free.
"Pale Rider," you read off the cover. "Huh."
"Been sitting there since last week." The last bowl joined the others on the counter, and Wayne gave the VHS case a quick look.
"Was gonna watch it myself one of these nights, but—" he gestured vaguely at the general chaos of the trailer, of life, "—never got around to it."
The sun-bleached cover art was doing a surprisingly good job of selling the idea of a quiet movie night, right in the middle of the storm.
"I've heard of it. Never actually watched it, though."
"It's a good one. Saw it last year when it came out. Wasn't expecting much, but it surprised me," Wayne recalled, setting down another plate with a clink, already reaching for the cutlery.
"Ed'll tell you westerns ain't his thing." Wayne snorted, clearly more amused than he was willing to admit, and collected the last of the spoons.
"Still sits through every one of 'em, though."
Leaning an elbow on the counter, you said, "Yeah... He has a habit of accidentally getting invested."
Next to the slices of toast, the bowls of stew found their place, a knowing look crossing Wayne's face.
"You've noticed."
A small detail caught your attention, three plates instead of two. The extra plate sat there like it had always belonged — Wayne had just included you.
Right on cue, Eddie wandered back into the kitchen, drying his damp hands against the sides of his sweatpants. One curl had escaped whatever battle he'd fought within the bathroom and now hung stubbornly across his forehead.
"Mission accomplished. Your clothes are officially hanging in a way that suggests I know what I'm doing."
Dropping onto the stool beside you, Eddie immediately leaned over and stole a marshmallow straight from your mug before you could react.
"Hey!"
The stolen marshmallow disappeared into his mouth, completely unapologetic as he ignored your look of betrayal. The second mug on the counter offered the perfect opportunity for revenge. You plucked one of his marshmallows, popped it into your own mouth, then handed it over with your sweetest smile.
"Here."
Eddie chewed for a second before flashing you a thoroughly unrepentant grin.
"Worth it!"
With the mug now in hand, the entire exchange seemed to have gone exactly according to Eddie's plan, followed by a long, satisfied sip.
"So, what did I miss?" He asked, completely unaware of the chocolate mustache he was sporting.
"Since Zeus had other plans for us, we figured we'd let Clint Eastwood save the day."
You held up the cover, the grim-faced gunslinger staring back like he'd personally taken offense at the weather.
Without missing a beat, Eddie lifted his spoon toward you and Wayne.
"I knew it! I leave for one minute and you two start plotting."
"Sorry," you managed between laughs, "can't take you seriously with that mustache."
Noticing where you were looking, Eddie dragged his tongue deliberately slowly across his upper lip without breaking eye contact, taking the chocolate with it.
The smug grin stayed.
With hunger clearly winning the argument, Wayne made his way back toward the living room, the movie secured under one arm and his plate in the other hand.
"Movie's starting either way," he said. "You can hide out in Ed's room if you want, or come keep an old man company."
Apparently, everything had been successfully handled: dinner was ready, the movie was saved, and Eddie hadn't managed to ruin either one.
Three feet of carpet became an obstacle course the moment you and Eddie decided to cross it, arms full of plates, bowls, and mugs, exaggerated concentration written all over both your faces like you were crossing a tightrope instead.
"Corner or middle?" Eddie asked, tilting his head toward the couch while Wayne crouched by the TV, the worn VHS case already in hand.
You didn't even have to think about it.
"Middle," you decided. "Better view."
With the kind of clunk that meant the VCR was either working or pretending to, the old machine accepted the tape, and a second later the television dissolved into a brief shimmer of static.
"Careful," Eddie warned as he eased himself down beside you, balancing the bowl carefully on one thigh. "This couch was not built for personal space."
Fair warning, apparently. The cushions dipped beneath his weight, nudging him effortlessly against you until his knee bumped yours.
"Noted." You shifted just enough to make room, though it hardly made a difference. "Too late now."
Something about your answer clearly pleased him.
"Way too late."
A blanket settled over your lap, soft and worn thin in places from years of use. You blinked down at it, then up at Wayne, who was already halfway back to his armchair like he hadn't just quietly made sure you were both comfortable.
"Wayne." Eddie eyed the blanket with exaggerated offense. "It's not cold anymore."
"Didn't say it was for the cold."
Already lowering himself into the armchair, Wayne didn't so much as glance in your direction.
For a moment, it looked like Eddie was searching for a comeback worthy of the occasion. Whatever he'd come up with apparently wasn't convincing enough. A quiet huff escaped him instead as he tugged one side of the blanket a little farther over both of you.
Static melted into the opening notes of Pale Rider, crackling softly through the old speakers while the storm outside continued throwing itself against the trailer roof like it still had something left to prove.
With a warm bowl in your hands and Eddie's shoulder resting comfortably against yours, you couldn't help thinking the van really could've chosen far worse places to give up.
"This is dangerously close to a family movie night, Wayne."
Summary: Graduation is finally within reach for Eddie Munson — a sentence he never thought he’d live long enough to say without laughing. But lately, things feel different.
Because of you.
After a late-night conversation about the future and the kind of life you might build together, Eddie finds himself standing inside Hawkins Jewelers with Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Max… staring at engagement rings that cost more money than he’s ever seen in his entire life.
Turns out planning a proposal is a lot harder when you’re broke, surrounded by loud teenagers, and completely terrified of screwing up the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
But sometimes the best ideas start in the most unexpected places.
Author’s Note: Hey everyone!
So Tumblr apparently does not love 4,000+ word chapters 😅
Because of the character limit, Chapter 48 had to be split into two parts. This is Part One, which covers Eddie’s POV leading up to the jewelry store scene and a very chaotic brainstorming session with the kids.
Part Two will pick up immediately after this scene and continue the chapter with what happens when Eddie gets home.
The chapter itself is still canonically Chapter 48 in the story — it’s just being split here for posting purposes.
Thank you all so much for reading, commenting, and supporting this story. It honestly means the world.
(Updated Edit: Hiii! So, I wrote this chapter months ago and just now realized I’m able to post more than 4,000 words, so I apologize! 😅)
Word Count: 3,249 Words
Disclaimer: This chapter contains strong language, crude humor, and suggestive dialogue consistent with the tone of a late-80s Stranger Things setting.
While this part of the chapter does not contain explicit sexual scenes, the overall story contains adult themes, romantic tension, emotional intimacy, and mature content intended for adult readers.
Reader Discretion advised.
Chapter 48. Part One: Something Worth Making
Eddie’s POV
Graduation was right around the corner.
Which was a sentence I never thought I’d say without laughing my ass off.
For the last four years Hawkins High had basically been my own personal version of hell. Detention slips. Teachers riding my ass. Guidance counselors looking at me like I was one bad day away from setting the building on fire. The usual.
But now… things were different.
Because of her.
(Y/N).
We hadn’t even been together that long — a little over a month if you counted from when things actually became official — but somehow that short amount of time had managed to turn my entire world upside down in the best possible way.
Prom had happened.
A lot had happened after prom.
And somewhere between late-night talks, stupid jokes, stolen kisses in hallways, and those quiet little moments where she’d curl up next to me like she belonged there, something had settled deep in my chest.
The kind of thing you just know.
A few nights ago we’d stayed up talking until almost three in the morning, just lying there in the dark, whispering about the future like a couple of idiots who suddenly realized adulthood wasn’t some far-off thing anymore — it was right there, breathing down our necks.
Kids.
Family.
A place of our own someday.
A house that wasn’t falling apart.
A life that looked different than the one I’d always figured I’d end up with.
I don’t think either of us meant to start talking about stuff like that, but once we did, it was like neither of us wanted to stop. And somewhere in the middle of listening to her talk — watching the way she smiled into the dark, hearing how soft her voice got whenever she talked about the future — I realized something that had probably already been true for a while.
She was it.
The one.
Not in some cheesy storybook way either.
Just in that hard, quiet, terrifying way where you look at somebody and think, Yeah. It’s you. It was always gonna be you.
Part of the reason I even had money in my pocket at all was because, about a week earlier, I’d finally dragged my ass into doing something responsible for once. I’d picked up work over at Marlowe’s Garage, a place just outside the edge of town where half the cars in Hawkins went when they started making noises that sounded like death. It wasn’t glamorous. It mostly smelled like oil, hot metal, and cigarettes. My hands were permanently nicked up and I came home every night with grease under my fingernails no matter how hard I scrubbed.
But it was work.
Real work.
And for once in my life, I didn’t hate the idea of it.
Wayne had taught me enough over the years that I could hold my own around an engine, and old man Marlowe didn’t seem to care much about my record as long as I showed up on time and didn’t screw up his tools. The pay wasn’t much, but it was something. Something that felt like a start. Something that made me feel, for the first time in a long damn while, like maybe I could actually build something for myself.
For us.
Which was exactly how I ended up standing inside Hawkins Jewelers on a Tuesday afternoon, staring at engagement rings that cost more money than I’d seen in my entire life.
Getting there had been an ordeal all by itself.
After school, I’d driven her home first. She’d been sitting in the passenger seat beside me, one leg tucked up a little, absentmindedly playing with the sleeve of my jacket while I drove. She looked pretty in the late afternoon sun, all soft and warm and completely unaware that my stomach was tied in a dozen knots.
“You’re being weird,” she’d said, eyeing me.
“I’m always weird.”
“No,” she’d said, smiling. “You’re being extra weird. What are you up to?”
“Nothing.”
“That sounded suspicious.”
I’d snorted and pulled up in front of her house. “I just gotta run a couple errands.”
“What kind of errands?”
“The boring kind.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Can I come?”
For one insane second, I almost said yes before my brain caught up.
“No.”
That came out a little too fast.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, wow. Alright then.”
“It’s not like that,” I’d said quickly, dragging a hand through my hair. “I just— I gotta do something and I need Henderson and the others with me.”
“The others?”
“Yeah.”
“You need Dustin for errands?”
“And Mike. And Lucas. And Max.”
That had made her laugh. “That somehow makes this sound even more suspicious.”
“Maybe a little.”
She’d looked at me for another second, trying to read my face, and I’d done my absolute best to keep mine normal, which probably made me look guiltier than hell.
Finally she sighed, but she was smiling again.
“Alright, fine. I’ll go home. Spend time with my parents. Be abandoned.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“You like it.”
Yeah.
I did.
I’d leaned over and kissed her quick before she got out of the van. “I’ll see you later.”
“You better.”
Then she’d shut the door, headed up toward the house, and I’d sat there for a second with both hands on the steering wheel thinking, Jesus Christ, Munson, don’t screw this up.
Then I went and picked up the little gremlins.
Which, in hindsight, might have been my first mistake.
Dustin Henderson was practically glued to the glass display case the second we walked into the store. His nose was about two inches from the jewelry like he was trying to inspect the diamonds with his bare eyeballs.
Mike looked like he regretted every decision that had led him into the building.
Lucas was trying to act cool about the whole thing, but he kept picking up price tags like he was more invested than he wanted anybody to know.
Max, somehow, was the only one acting like a normal person.
And me?
I was already regretting bringing all four of them.
“What is her ring size?” Dustin asked without looking away from the glass.
I froze.
“…Uh.”
Dustin slowly turned his head toward me.
“You don’t know.”
“I do.”
“You absolutely do not.”
“I do,” I insisted.
I did not.
Mike made a face. “Oh, wow. Great start.”
Lucas folded his arms. “You’re gonna propose and you don’t know her ring size?”
“I know lots of things about her.”
“Apparently not finger-related things,” Mike muttered.
“Shut up.”
Inside the case were rows of rings — gold, silver, diamonds throwing back little sparks under the bright lights overhead. Some were simple and elegant. Some were so huge and flashy they looked like they belonged on the finger of a soap-opera villain. One looked like it could blind somebody if they caught the light wrong.
Every single one of them looked expensive.
Dustin pointed suddenly.
“What about that one?”
I leaned closer. It was heart-shaped with tiny diamonds circling the center stone.
“Maybe.”
Dustin narrowed his eyes at me. “You said maybe like you’re ordering a burger.”
“I’m thinking.”
“You’re panicking.”
“I am not panicking.”
Mike barked out a laugh. “He’s absolutely panicking.”
Lucas pointed toward another ring farther down. “That one’s better.”
Dustin whipped around. “No, it isn’t.”
“It is.”
“It looks like something a seventy-year-old lady would wear.”
“It looks classy.”
“It looks dead.”
Max made a face. “Jesus Christ. If you three don’t shut up for five seconds, I’m leaving.”
I glanced at her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said dryly.
Dustin ignored both of us and pointed again. “Okay, seriously, how about that one? That one actually looks like her.”
I leaned in. It was a silver ring, more delicate than the others, with a small center stone and little detailing along the band.
I stared at it a second longer than I meant to.
Because yeah.
That did look like her.
Not loud.
Not gaudy.
Just pretty. Soft. Strong in that quiet way she had.
Lucas noticed my face and nodded once. “That’s what I was gonna say.”
Mike stepped in closer too, surprising me.
“She wouldn’t want anything huge,” he said. “Not really. She’d hate something that looked too showy.”
Dustin glanced over at him. “Yeah. She’d make that face.”
“What face?” I asked.
All four of them looked at me.
Then, somehow, all at once, they each did a version of her unimpressed face.
Even Max.
I had to laugh.
Damn.
They really did know her.
And for a second, standing there in that stupid jewelry store under all those bright lights, I felt this weird tightness in my chest — not bad, just… a lot. Because before I came along, they’d already been there for her. They knew the little things. The looks she gave. The way she’d react. What she’d like, what she wouldn’t.
And I loved them a little for that.
I really did.
Because it meant she’d been cared for.
Not just by me.
By all of them.
Lucas flipped the price tag.
His whole face changed.
“…Eleven hundred dollars.”
I immediately leaned back. “Absolutely not.”
Dustin let out a long whistle. “Jesus.”
Mike squinted at the tag when Lucas showed him and muttered, “That thing should come with a car.”
Before the argument could go any further, a man in a clean suit approached the counter with the careful, polite smile of somebody used to watching nervous people try not to faint in his store.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “My name is Alonso. Is there anything I can help you with?”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Uh… we’re just looking.”
“What are you looking for specifically?”
I hesitated.
Dustin elbowed me in the ribs.
“Tell him.”
I sighed. “…An engagement ring.”
Alonso’s eyebrows lifted a little, but he recovered fast.
“Well then,” he said pleasantly, “tell me about the lucky lady.”
I rubbed the back of my neck again, feeling all four kids looking at me now too.
“She’s… perfect.”
Lucas smirked.
Mike snorted.
Dustin grinned like an asshole.
Max rolled her eyes but she was smiling too.
I ignored all of them.
“She’s the only person who’s ever really seen me for me,” I said, glancing back at Alonso. “And somehow she still sticks around. She’s got this way about her where she acts sweet until you say something stupid, and then she’ll look at you like you’re the dumbest bastard in Indiana. She laughs at all my jokes, even the bad ones. She’s stubborn as hell. She worries too much. She makes everybody around her feel like they matter.”
Dustin immediately jumped in. “She hates when people chew with their mouth open.”
Mike added, “And she likes silver better than gold.”
Lucas nodded. “She’d want something simple. Nothing too flashy.”
Max crossed her arms and said, “And if you get her something ugly, she’ll still say she loves it and then I’ll have to tell you the truth.”
Alonso’s smile widened. “You all seem to know her very well.”
That hit me harder than I expected.
“Yeah,” I said quietly, glancing at them. “They do.”
“You literally just described her favorite kind of jewelry,” Lucas said.
“Yeah, because I pay attention.”
Max snorted. “That’ll be the day.”
Alonso nodded thoughtfully. “Silver then. That helps narrow things down.”
He moved slightly down the display case, scanning the rows of rings before stopping at one section.
“We have a beautiful rose-gold piece here,” Alonso said, moving to the left side of the display. He pulled out a ring with a teardrop-shaped center stone and smaller diamonds surrounding it. It sparkled like crazy under the lights.
“How much?” I asked, already bracing myself.
“This one is fifteen hundred dollars.”
I nearly choked. “Jesus.”
Mike leaned over. “How much?”
“Fifteen hundred.”
Mike burst out laughing.
Lucas shook his head slowly.
Dustin looked like he might actually faint dead away right there on the carpet.
“That’s a little out of my price range,” I said.
Alonso nodded with professional sympathy. “No problem. We have some rings that go as low as seven hundred.”
Still impossible.
Lucas leaned toward Dustin and muttered, “Seven hundred is still a lot.”
“No kidding,” Dustin muttered back.
“Would you like to see them?” Alonso asked.
“…Sure.”
He disappeared into the back room.
The second he was gone, all four of them turned toward me at once.
Dustin shook his head slowly. “At this point you might as well hit up a gumball machine and hope for the best.”
Mike snorted. “Yeah, super romantic, Henderson.”
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Nothing says true love like a plastic ring that used to hold bubblegum.”
Max looked unimpressed. “Please don’t actually do that.”
I shook my head, “Believe me, I won’t.”
“You’re really doing this?” Mike asked.
“…Maybe.”
“You’ve been dating like a month,” Lucas said.
“I know.”
Max finally spoke up from where she’d been examining a smaller case near the register.
“So?”
All of us turned.
Max shrugged one shoulder. “If you know, you know.”
I pointed at her. “Thank you.”
Dustin leaned against the counter. “Eddie, you realize these rings cost more than your entire life savings, right?”
“Don’t remind me.”
Mike studied me for a second. “How much money do you actually have?”
“Not enough.”
“That’s not a number.”
“It’s the right number for this conversation.”
Lucas tilted his head. “What about the job?”
I exhaled through my nose. “What about it?”
Dustin looked at Mike and Lucas, then back at me. “Wait, he told you about the garage?”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Henderson. We know.”
Lucas shrugged. “We’ve known for like a week.”
Max looked at me. “You didn’t tell her yet, did you?”
I shook my head.
There it was.
The other thing I’d been keeping close to my chest.
About a week ago, after that long conversation with her, I’d gotten it into my head that if I was serious — and I was — then I needed to stop acting like some dumbass kid drifting around town waiting for life to happen to him. Wayne had never said it that way, not exactly, but I knew he’d been waiting for me to wake the hell up for a while.
So I’d gone down to Marlowe’s Garage and asked for work.
Nothing fancy.
Oil changes. Tires. Brake pads. Getting yelled at by old men who thought every engine problem in America could be fixed by hitting it with a wrench.
But it was something.
And every greasy hour I spent there, every crumpled bill in my pocket at the end of the week, all I could think was: This is for her too. For later. For whatever comes next.
“I just wanted to have something steady,” I muttered. “Something real. If I’m gonna stand there and ask her to spend her life with me, I better at least be able to say I’m trying to get my shit together.”
For once, none of them made a joke.
Max’s expression softened a little.
Lucas nodded once, serious.
Even Mike looked less annoying than usual.
Dustin cleared his throat. “That’s… actually kinda cool.”
“Don’t make a thing out of it.”
“Too late,” Max said.
Dustin looked at Mike and Lucas.
“We could help.”
I frowned.
“Help how?”
“Money,” Lucas said.
Mike nodded.
“We’ve got some saved up.”
Dustin added, “Not a lot, but together it might actually help.”
Max crossed her arms.
“You wouldn’t be doing it alone.”
I shook my head immediately.
“No.”
“Why not?” Dustin asked.
“Because I’m not taking money from a bunch of fourteen-year-olds to buy an engagement ring.”
Lucas opened his mouth but I cut him off.
“I appreciate it. Seriously. But no.”
Dustin sighed.
“Worth a shot.”
Alonso came back then carrying a tray of rings.
“These are some of our more affordable options.”
He opened the box.
The rings were simpler. Plain bands. Smaller stones. Nothing ugly, but nothing that made my chest jump either.
“How much?” I asked.
“The least expensive ring here starts around seven hundred fifty.”
I rubbed both hands over my face. “Yeah. That’s still not happening.”
Alonso looked sympathetic. “I could offer you a payment plan.”
“How does that work?”
“You pay a portion each month until the ring is fully paid off.”
I stared at him. “So I’m renting it.”
His smile tightened. “We wouldn’t call it renting.”
Dustin leaned in and stage-whispered, “I like the gumball machine idea more and more.”
Alonso glanced at him.
I pretended I didn’t know him.
“I’m sorry, man,” I told Alonso. “I just can’t do that.”
“That’s alright,” he said. “I understand.”
“No, really, you’ve been helpful. Thank you.”
When he walked off, the silence around us felt heavier than it had before.
For a second nobody said anything.
Then Dustin clapped my shoulder.
“Don’t get discouraged, dude.”
“I’m not discouraged.”
“Yes, you are.”
“…Okay, maybe a little.”
Lucas leaned one elbow on the counter. “What if she doesn’t care about the ring being expensive?”
“She deserves something good,” I said.
Mike looked at me. “That’s not the same thing.”
I frowned.
He kept going. “You keep saying she deserves the best. Fine. But what if what matters to her and what matters to you aren’t exactly the same thing?”
Max nodded. “He’s right.”
I looked at all of them.
Lucas shrugged. “She’d care more that it came from you.”
Dustin spread his hands. “And if all else fails, yes, there is still the gumball machine. Maybe one of those little plastic dinosaur rings. Very classy.”
Mike snorted.
Max elbowed Dustin in the ribs. “You’re not helping.”
He rubbed his side. “I’m brainstorming!”
Lucas sighed. “That isn’t brainstorming. That’s being stupid.”
Saying it like that, dead serious, only made it funnier.
Dustin pointed at him. “Oh, and you’re so useful, Sinclair.”
“I am.”
“You’re standing in a jewelry store pretending you know what a band setting is.”
“I know more than you do.”
Mike cut in. “That’s not saying much.”
The three of them started sniping at each other all at once.
“You don’t know anything.”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Would all three of you shut the hell up before I bang your heads together?” I snapped.
Immediately, all three of them went quiet.
Max smirked.
Then Dustin, because apparently God enjoyed punishing me, snapped his fingers.
“Wait.”
We all looked at him.
“What?” I asked.
He pointed at me. “You just said she’d care more that it came from you.”
“So?”
“So maybe I was kidding before…” He paused, then lifted one shoulder. “But maybe not entirely. Maybe you don’t buy her a ring. Maybe you make her one.”
Everything in my brain stopped.
The store around me went a little blurry.
I looked at him.
Then at the cases.
Then back at him.
“…Wait.”
The kids all stared at me.
“I could make one,” I said slowly.
Dustin blinked. “…You could what?”
“I could make one.”
Mike frowned. “Where?”
A grin started to spread across my face before I could stop it.
Because suddenly it didn’t feel hopeless anymore.
“I know a guy.”
Lucas sighed dramatically. “That is never a good sentence.”
“Mr. Johnson,” I said. “Woodshop teacher.”
Dustin’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
Mike groaned. “Oh no.”
Lucas actually smiled. “Oh, this is gonna be interesting.”
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description: your plan was simple: learn how to play pool from steve, beat eddie, collect your hundred bucks. you forgot to account for eddie's ego, or what happens when you make him jealous.
pairing: jealous!eddie x you (fem!reader)
tags: jealous!eddie, bestfriend!reader, friends to lovers, possessive!eddie, smut with plot, competitive flirting, jealousy as foreplay, reader actually beats him and he takes it serious, he takes you out back to pay, pool game to back-alley sex pipeline, voyeurism (ish), public smut, condescending praise, dom!eddie, sorry i'm ovulating
TW: NSFW (18+) minors do NOT interact!!!!, PiV, unprotected
WC: 3.6k
A/N: requested by @eddiemunsonspantschain HOPE YOU LOOOOOVE IT :D here's a quick smutty bedtime story for all of my lovely freaks. i have something super exciting cooking up after this one...so stay tuned ;)
reblogs are always appreciated <33
as always, love you all! muah muah
You relied on Eddie in many ways. Guy problems? He was the first one you'd call if a date went sour. Work drama? The second you got off, you'd pace around his trailer, explaining the usual bullshit as he sat on the couch, chiming in when necessary.
Somewhere along the way, the line between "best friends" and... whatever this was had gotten a little blurry. You couldn't remember exactly when it happened. Maybe it was the fact that you had a drawer at Eddie's trailer for spare clothes, or that he never knocked before walking into your apartment.
Hell, even the rest of your friends had long since given up trying to figure it out. Robin had stopped correcting strangers when they assumed you two were dating, Dustin had started referring to you as "Eddie's girl" just to watch the two of you sputter, and Steve swore you were both "the dumbest almost-couple" he'd ever met.
The funny part was, neither of you ever denied liking the other. You just... never actually admitted it, either.
So life carried on in that weird in-between, where lingering touches lasted a little too long, late-night drives felt suspiciously like dates, and neither of you was brave enough to ask what any of it meant.
In many ways, Eddie was the best friend you could ask for. But the one thing you hated? He was a cocky bastard when it came to anything competitive.
Any game night, whether that's something as simple as Uno or arcade games, he thought he was the best. Though, to be fair, he was. Which is why, after one fateful 1v1 of pool at the Hideout, when he conned your ass like a fool and beat you out of a hundred bucks, you needed revenge.
So, naturally, your pride wouldn't let him teach you how to play, oh no. Instead, you decided to ask Steve. Steve wasn't someone in the group you were particularly close to.
But, beyond him, your options to teach you how to win at stupid bar games were Robin, who was as agile as a baby deer, or Nancy, who could care less about you and Eddie's billiard feud.
Steve looked up from where he was wiping down the windshield of his BMW in his driveway, rag slung over one shoulder. "You want me to do what?"
"Teach me pool."
He blinked. "...Pool."
"Yes, Steve. The game. With the sticks."
"I know what pool is."
"Good. Then we're making progress."
He laughed, tossing the rag over the hood. "Since when have you been interested in pool?"
You crossed your arms. "I'm interested in beating Eddie."
"Oh."
"Exactly."
A grin slowly spread across his face. "...I'm in."
The Hideout wasn't open yet, save for a handful of regulars nursing beers before the evening crowd rolled in.
Music crackled quietly through the speakers while Eddie hauled cases of liquor behind the bar, already halfway through complaining to Gareth about a distributor screwing up another order.
"You know what they gave us?" Eddie scoffed. "Light beer. We don't even sell the shit."
Gareth shrugged. "People drink it."
"No, they most certainly do not."
Then the front door opened, so Eddie glanced over automatically. You walked in first with Steve following close behind.
His eyebrows pinched together. "...What the hell?"
Steve waved toward the bar. "Yo."
Eddie nodded slowly. "Harrington."
Then his eyes landed back on you. "What're you doing here? Thought you worked today."
"I did."
"And now?"
You smiled sweetly. "I'm learning."
"...Learning what?"
Steve answered before you could. "Pool."
Eddie glanced between the two of you, raising one finger accusingly. "...From you?"
Steve looked genuinely confused by the question. "...Yeah?"
"You know how to play?"
Steve frowned. "Dude."
"What?"
"I've been playing forever."
Eddie stared for another second before scoffing to himself.
"...Whatever." Then, he disappeared into the back, huffing something under his breath.
For the next forty-five minutes, Steve proved to be a surprisingly patient teacher.
"No, loosen your grip."
"I'm trying."
"I know, but you're choking the cue."
"I'm not choking it."
"You absolutely are."
He stepped behind you. "Here."
His hands lightly adjusted yours on the cue. "Relax your shoulders."
You exhaled.
"There."
You lined up another shot and missed. "Oh, come on!"
"You looked better."
"I looked better?"
"That's half the battle."
Across the room, Eddie slammed a rack of glasses onto the shelf harder than necessary, causing Gareth to look over.
"...Everything alright?"
"Fantastic."
"You sure?"
"Mhm."
He dared another glance; Steve had crouched beside you now, pointing toward one of the corner pockets.
"If you bank it off this rail—"
Eddie shook his head and continued polishing the same glass he'd already finished.
"He's practically climbing inside her personal bubble."
Gareth followed his gaze to Steve's arm, which reached across yours to point toward the angle.
"...Looks like he's just showing her."
"Mhm."
"You jealous?"
Eddie barked out a laugh. "Of Steve? ...No."
"Exactly."
Gareth watched him continue scrubbing the spotless glass.
"...You're polishing air."
"I know."
"...You wanna go interrupt them?"
"No."
"...Looks like she's laughing."
"I can see."
Steve said something that made you laugh again, a little louder than the last time.
Eddie's jaw ticked. "He's not even that funny."
Gareth snorted. "You realize you've been watching them for like twenty minutes?"
"I have not."
"You absolutely have."
"I've been working."
"Eddie."
"What?"
"...You've poured the same guy three refills without him asking."
Eddie froze and slowly looked toward the older regular sitting at the bar. The man raised his fourth full beer.
"Thanks, Munson!"
"...Shit."
By the end of the lesson, you actually sank three balls in a row.
Steve pointed at the table dramatically. "There it is!"
"I did that."
"You did."
"I actually did that."
"Told you."
You grinned. "You are officially my favorite Harrington."
"There aren't exactly many of us."
Still smiling, you turned toward the bar. "Eddie!"
He looked up immediately. "What?"
Your grin somehow got even bigger. "Rematch."
The entire bar seemed to perk up. Eddie leaned against the counter, folding his arms.
"...You sure?"
"Oh, I'm positive."
"You just spent an hour getting coached."
"So?"
"I don't know..." A slow smirk tugged at his mouth. "Sounds a little desperate."
"It sounds like I got tired of losing to someone whose entire personality revolves around a pool table."
A chorus of quiet "oohs" erupted from the regulars. Eddie placed a hand dramatically over his chest.
"That's hurtful."
"You'll survive."
He pushed off the bar, grabbing a cue from behind the counter. "Same bet?"
You scoffed. "I'm not giving you another hundred dollars."
"Coward."
"I'm being financially responsible."
"Chicken."
"I'm smarter than you."
"Doubtful."
Steve quietly stepped backward. "Yeah…I'm gonna head out."
"You probably should," Gareth agreed.
"You created this monster."
"I absolutely did."
Eddie twirled the cue once in his hand before pointing it at you. "You've got one shot, sweetheart."
You stepped closer until only the pool table separated the two of you. "I only need one."
His grin faltered for just a second. Not because of the challenge, lord knows he loves a challenging woman. But because you'd wandered close enough that he could smell your perfume.
You caught the slight pause in his usual bravado, eyes quickly darting across his face. Then Eddie recovered first, spinning the cue between his fingers with that infuriatingly cocky grin.
"Ladies first."
"Oh," you smiled, taking the cue from his hand just slowly enough for your fingers to brush against his, "I'm gonna enjoy wiping that smug look off your face."
His eyebrow quirked up then. "...We'll see."
The first break went to you.
You leaned over the table, tongue poking against the inside of your cheek the way Steve had told you not to do because it apparently made you overthink your shot. The cue cracked against the rack, sending the balls scattering across the felt.
One dropped, then another, causing a grin to spread across your face.
"Oh, that's gotta sting."
Eddie clicked his tongue. "Beginner's luck."
"You've been saying that for the last three games."
"And eventually I'll be right."
"I've won one."
"You've won almost one."
"I was one ball away."
"You still lost."
You rolled your eyes, circling the table as you looked for your next shot. "God, you're insufferable."
"And yet, here you are."
"Only because watching you lose is going to heal something in me."
Eddie laughed under his breath, leaning his hip against the edge of the table while you lined up your cue.
"Careful," he mused. "Harrington tell you to keep your elbow up?"
You didn't look at him. "He did, actually."
"Hm."
"And to follow through."
"Mhm."
"And to stop gripping the cue like I was trying to strangle it."
Eddie made a face. "...That sounds like something he'd say."
"It worked."
"So did cheating."
You looked up. "I wasn't aware lessons counted as cheating."
"They do when they're from the enemy."
"The enemy?" You snorted. "Steve?"
"He knows what he is."
"Oh, does he?"
"Mhm."
You laughed quietly, taking your shot. The cue ball kissed the side of yours just enough to send it into the corner pocket, causing it to disappear with a satisfying clack.
Your jaw dropped. "I meant to do that."
"No, you didn't."
"I absolutely did."
"You looked surprised."
"I was surprised by how well I did it."
"Sure."
You pointed the cue at him. "Don't ruin this for me."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
The game continued like that, each shot somehow accompanied by another jab, another smug remark, another excuse for the two of you to drift closer as you circled opposite ends of the table.
"You scratched."
"I was distracted."
"By what?"
"You talking."
"I wasn't talking."
"You exist loudly."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
You nudged him lightly with your shoulder as you squeezed past him. He didn't move, not even an inch.
"You know," you muttered, looking up at him, "most people would step out of the way."
"I'm not most people."
"So I've noticed."
Instead, he leaned down just enough that his shoulder bumped yours back.
"Figure it out."
"Oh, you're the worst."
"Sure I am.”
You huffed dramatically before ducking around him, though not without your arm brushing against his on the way by.
A few turns later, you found yourself stuck behind him as he leaned over the table, studying an angle that frankly looked impossible.
You waited, but he simply didn't move. "Eddie."
"Mhm?"
"I can't see."
"I'm thinking."
"You've been thinking for like two minutes."
"It's called strategy."
"It's called stalling."
He looked over his shoulder. "I don't stall."
"You absolutely stall."
"I am visualizing."
"You are making shit up."
Finally, he straightened, only to find you standing much closer than he'd expected. For a second, neither of you stepped back.
Then you smiled. "My turn."
He cleared his throat and took a step aside. "Be my guest."
You bent over the table, carefully lining up your shot. The cue slid forward, clack, and another ball dropped.
Behind you, Eddie let out an exaggerated sigh. "I knew Harrington was a bad influence."
You glanced over your shoulder. "Oh my God."
"What?"
"You are unbelievable."
"I'm serious."
"No, you're not."
"He spent one afternoon with you and suddenly you're running tables."
"I'm hardly running the table."
"You're certainly trying."
You rested both hands on the cue, smiling to yourself. "You know..."
"What?"
"...If I didn't know any better..."
Eddie lifted an eyebrow.
"...I'd say you're jealous of Steve."
Eddie's smile stayed exactly where it was. Only this time, it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Jealous?"
"Mhm."
"Of Steve."
"You've mentioned him..." You pretended to think for a moment. "...What? Eight times since we started?"
"I have not."
"You've called him the enemy."
"He is."
"You accused him of cheating."
"He was."
"You've insulted his teaching."
"It wasn't that good."
"I've made more shots tonight than I have in the last six months."
He clicked his tongue. "Coincidence."
You laughed. "You're jealous."
He held your gaze for a long moment, twirling the cue lazily between his fingers before shrugging one shoulder. "...Maybe I was."
Eddie looked almost as surprised by his own answer as you were. He scratched the back of his neck, looking away with a quiet scoff.
"I mean..." he muttered, trying and failing to sound casual, "guy's got his hands all over you. Kinda weird."
Your heart did a slow, traitorous little flip. "So that's what this is about?"
He looked back at you. "I don't like people assuming they can get all cozy with you."
"Steve was teaching me."
"I know."
"You've practically climbed all over me trying to fix my stance before."
"That's different."
"How?"
"'Cause..." He gestured vaguely between the two of you. "...It's me."
You couldn't help it when a grin spread across your face. "Oh, wow."
"What?"
"You really don't hear yourself, do you?"
"Oh, shut up."
You laughed outright this time, and Eddie couldn't stop himself from smiling back, shaking his head as he pointed the cue toward the table.
"Take your shot before I remember why I like beating you so much."
You stepped up beside him, your shoulder brushing his as you passed.
"I'm starting to think you don't like beating me nearly as much as you pretend you do."
For the first time all night, Eddie didn't have a smartass comeback. He just watched you lean over the table, trying very hard not to notice how unfairly pretty you looked when you were concentrating.
The game stretched on longer than it should have, every shot laced with your growing confidence and Eddie's sharpening edges.
But in the end, you sank the eight-ball clean, right into the corner pocket with a decisive thunk that echoed through the bar like a victory bell.
The regulars let out a low chorus of approval. Eddie stared at the table for a moment too long, cue still gripped tight in one hand, before his gaze lifted to yours.
That cocky smirk was still plastered on his face, but it had gone tight at the corners.
You leaned on your cue, flushed with triumph and just enough adrenaline to push. "Hmph. Steve must be a good teacher after all," you said sweetly, tilting your head.
Something dark flickered in Eddie's eyes. He set the cue down with deliberate calm, then crossed the space between you in two strides. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, lifting it with a gentle yet firm grip.
"Alright," he said, voice low, "that's enough."
He tugged you toward the back hallway, past the storage room and out the rear door into the narrow alley behind the Hideout. The door slammed shut behind you, cutting off the muffled sounds of the bar.
"Eddie—" you started, but he spun you around, pressing your back to the rough brick before you could finish. His body crowded yours instantly, one thigh slotting between your legs as his free hand braced beside your head.
"You think this is funny?" he growled, mouth hovering inches from yours. His breath was ragged. "Parading Harrington in here, letting him put his hands all over you while I watch?"
"He was teaching me," you breathed, even as heat pooled low in your belly. God, he was jealous. Really jealous. It shouldn't turn you on this much, but the way his grip tightened on your wrist sent a shiver straight through you.
"Sure, doll. Teaching." Eddie's other hand slid down your side, bunching your shirt up roughly until his palm met bare skin. "Laughed at his shitty jokes. Let him stand that close." He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. "You know exactly what you're doing to me, sweetheart."
You arched into him. "Maybe I do."
That was all it took. His mouth crashed into yours, all teeth and tongue and pent-up frustration. You kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers threading into his curls and tugging hard enough to make him groan against your lips.
He tasted like cheap beer and that stupid cinnamon gum he always chewed, and underneath it all, that unmistakable Eddie scent that always made your head spin.
His hand shoved under your waistband without preamble, fingers dipping between your thighs to find you already slick. A low, satisfied rumble vibrated in his chest.
"Fuck. This wet for me, or were you thinking about his hands the whole time?"
"Yours," you gasped as he circled your clit with two rough fingertips, pressing just right. "Always yours, you idiot."
"Good answer." He nipped at your bottom lip, then spun you again; face toward the wall this time.
Your palms braced against the cool brick as he yanked your jeans and underwear down in one impatient motion, just enough to bare you to the night air. The sound of his belt buckle and zipper was obscenely loud in the quiet alley.
He pressed against your back, hard and hot, one hand sliding up to wrap loosely around your throat.
"You don't get to tease me like that and walk away," he murmured, lips against the shell of your ear. His cock nudged at your entrance, thick and insistent. "Gonna fuck the thought of him right out of you."
Then he thrusted in deep, one smooth stroke that punched the air from your lungs. You moaned, the sound echoing off the bricks as he filled you completely. He didn't give you time to adjust. Just pulled back and drove in again, setting a punishing rhythm that had your toes curling in your shoes.
" Eddie—fuck—"
"Yeah, say my name." His grip on your hip tightened, rings digging in as he angled deeper, hitting that spot that made sparks explode behind your eyes. "Louder. Let the whole damn alley hear who you belong to."
You did. Gasping it out between thrusts, voice breaking as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter. He reached around, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing in tight, relentless circles while his hips snapped against your ass.
"Such a brat," he panted, teeth grazing your shoulder through your shirt. "You were so cocky before. What happened, huh baby?" He punctuated each word with a thrust, grinding deep on the last one until you were trembling.
The orgasm hit you like a freight train. You clenched around him, crying out as waves of heat crashed through you. Eddie followed right behind with a choked groan, burying himself to the hilt and spilling hot inside you, hips stuttering as he rode it out.
For a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the distant hum of traffic. Then he eased out slowly, careful despite the raw edge still humming between you. He tucked himself away, then turned you gently, pulling your clothes back into place with surprisingly tender hands.
Eddie rested his forehead against yours, thumbs brushing your flushed cheeks. "You okay?" he asked.
You smiled, still catching your breath, and tugged lightly at one of his curls. "I'm okay."
"You sure?"
"Mhm."
He searched your face for another second anyway, like he wasn't entirely convinced until he saw the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Only then did his shoulders finally loosen.
"There you are," he murmured.
"There I am?"
"You disappeared for a minute."
"I think I had a good reason."
He snorted, ducking his head with an embarrassed grin. It was strange seeing him like this.
Five minutes ago, he'd been all confidence and smart remarks, and now he suddenly looked like the same guy who got flustered whenever Wayne asked if the two of you were dating.
You brushed an imaginary speck of dust from the shoulder of his jacket. "So..."
"So?"
"...Does this mean I finally get to stop pretending we're just friends?"
His eyes met yours again. "I'd really appreciate that."
You laughed quietly. "I've gotta admit, Munson. I was starting to think you were hopeless."
"Oh, I was."
"You were."
"I mean it." He leaned back against the brick wall, slipping one hand into yours.
"I don't think I realized just how bad I had it until today."
"The pool lessons pissed you off that bad?"
He nodded. "When I saw Harrington behind you..." He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head at himself. "God, I was so irrationally pissed."
You raised an eyebrow. "Really? I couldn’t tell."
“Shut up.”
"He was just teaching me pool so I could beat you and get on your nerves." You bumped his shoulder. "Which, by the way, worked beautifully."
"Yeah, yeah."
"You were glaring at him like he keyed your van."
"He was standing way too close."
"He was showing me how to bank a shot."
"Didn't need to be all..." Eddie gestured vaguely with his free hand. "...Harrington about it."
You laughed. "What does that even mean?"
"You know."
"No, I actually don't."
"All..." He sighed dramatically. "Perfect hair. Nice smile. Hands everywhere."
"His hands were on the cue."
Eddie gave you a look. "Mostly."
You couldn't help laughing. "You're unbelievable."
"I know that now."
"You knew it then."
"...I did."
"So why were you so grumpy?"
He was quiet for a second, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.
"Because I kept thinking..." He shrugged, almost embarrassed by himself. "'What if she realizes she likes him better?'"
You blinked. "...Steve?"
"Sounds stupid out loud, doesn't it?"
"A little."
"Thanks."
"Eddie." You laughed, giving his hand a squeeze. "You really thought I was gonna fall for Steve Harrington because he showed me how to hold a pool cue?"
"I wasn't exactly thinking rationally."
"Clearly."
He groaned, dropping his head against your shoulder. "Can we pretend I never admitted any of this?"
"Absolutely not."
"Figured."
love me a good dom!eddie what can i say
also, the taglist is being really funky. i'm sorry if it's not tagging everyone pasted, i've been messing with the tags every time but tumblr likes to play games sooooooo
if you wanna be notified when i post, don't be shy and turn those post notis on ;))
all mine | eddie munson x cheerleader!reader, jason carver x cheerleader!reader
synopsis. you just needed something to take the edge off, to deal with the incessant belittling brought onto you by your mother. but you didn't know it would lead to an unlikely relationship with eddie munson.
cw: mdni, f!reader, toxic mom (reader's mom is verbally and emotionally abusive and has a diet culture mindset), jason and reader are in an established relationship, mentions of drug use (weed), drug deal (reader buys weed from eddie), angst, kinda fluffy at times, canon divergence, 4.1k
note: this is a slow burn series, so, no smut yet! but trust me, it's coming! <3 and yes, i took the exact forest scene from the show. hopefully i did it justice lmao
another day, another bout of backhanded compliments and insults thrown at you by the hand of your own mother. they had started to become a daily occurrence ever since you had become head cheerleader, a title you didn’t think you deserved nor wanted. it was bad enough when you were just a regular member of the cheer squad — which you never wanted to be a part of, but were forced into because your mother insisted you follow in her footsteps — and it just got even worse after the fact.
she expected you to be exceptionally lady-like by the way you dressed, talked, and acted. however, you were anything but lady-like. you hated wearing dresses, skirts, bright and happy colors like pink, orange, blue, and yellow, jewelry of any kind; you also didn’t like wearing a lot of makeup, only mascara and a tiny bit of eyeliner. it drove your mother absolutely crazy. you were a cheerleader, and your boyfriend, jason carver, was captain of the varsity basketball team, you needed to look nice for him in order to keep his attention, as your mother had so graciously put it one evening when he was picking you up for an ice cream date. your outfit happened to be a pair of cut-off jeans with a black tank top and your worn-out black converse that had doodles on the midsole and toe-cap.
you had tried to reason with her that it wasn’t a big deal, you were just going out for ice cream, and not to some high-class restaurant.
needless to say, your efforts at squashing her protests against your casual clothing choice fell on deaf ears, and you trudged back up to your room to change into a baby pink sundress, that your mother bought for you against your will, and white keds.
each hurled insult felt like knives being pushed deep into your chest. how can a mother do this to their own child? make them feel like no matter what they do or say it’s never good enough? you do everything she asks of you, you never question her, never talk back, bend over backwards to meet her expectations of you, and yet, she still always finds an issue with everything that you do.
on this particular morning, she had started in on you about the portion of food you had eaten for breakfast. your father sat idly by while she chastised you, nose buried deep in the newspaper that had been delivered only moments prior. he was no help at all to you when she got in those moods, even when you looked at him with desperation in your eyes to just do or say something. but, like you, he didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire of your mother’s warpath, and actively chose to not get involved.
it felt like the room was spinning. your mother’s voice had started to fade off into the distance, but her words still echoed in your mind. all you could feel was rage — unbridled, raw, and overwhelming.
you had taken a lot from her over the years, stayed silent and tried to be a good daughter, but everyone eventually reaches their breaking point.
“you know what,” you said, slamming your hand down and standing up from your seat at the dining table. “i’m not doing this with you today, mom.”
“honey? i’m only try—.”
“trying to help me, yeah, you say that all the time, but you know what? it isn’t helping me. AT ALL.” you stormed out of the dining room and into the living room, grabbing your backpack from the sofa and swinging it over your shoulders.
your mom came barreling into the room, eyes wide with fury at being talked back to. “sweetie, as your mother, i’m only doing what i think is best for you.”
“no, mom, you’re doing what you think is best for you. it’s never been about me!” you picked up your car keys from the hook next to the front door. “you only care about how you feel, what you want, what you need. news flash mom, the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you!”
she looked at you incredulously. she couldn’t believe the atrocities spilling from you. she tried to speak, but you held your hand up, shaking your head.
“i have to go to school. don’t want your perfect daughter to be late, now do you?” with that, you walked out of the house, slamming the door behind you.
“what’s wrong with you?” your friend, rebecca, asked as she walked up to the lunch table you all always sat at. “you look like your dog got run over.”
you looked up from your lunch, having been poking around at it with your fork rather than actually eating it. “it’s nothing,” you lied. “didn’t get enough sleep last night. i’m exhausted.”
“uh-huh,” she eyed you carefully as she sat across from you. “i know you well enough to know that’s a bold-faced lie. but it’s okay! if you don’t wanna tell me, i won’t press you.”
you sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again.
“it’s my mom…she…we got into it this morning,” you admitted.
“oh shit, i’m sorry,” rebecca said, frowning softly. “is it the same stuff?”
rebecca was the first person you had confided in, besides jason, about the issues with your mother. not because you felt she was a good enough friend for that, you had barely spoken more than a few words to her outside of cheer practice, but because she had witnessed your mom berating you after a football game in the parking lot when you thought nobody else was around.
turns out, rebecca was well-versed in the art of having a toxic mother, as her own put her through the same treatment yours did with you. the two of you became close, and you liked having someone you could vent to, who would understand you and your feelings when things got too hard to deal with.
especially since jason didn’t understand any of it. he always thought you were being too hard on your mother. that you just needed to hear her out because she loved you and was only looking out for you. it was easy for him to make that judgment, considering his own parents worshiped the ground he walked on and he could do no wrong in their eyes. he was their golden boy, the poster child for perfection, just as he was to everyone in hawkins.
“i think she wants me to be exactly like her and that’s never gonna happen. i’m not her!” you dropped your fork onto the plastic tray with a sigh.
“maybe you should tell her about how you feel,” rebecca suggested.
“yeah, like that’ll change anything,” you scoffed. “i’m tellin’ you, beck, she’ll just say that i’m being ridiculous and misunderstanding her.”
rebecca gazed at you solemnly. “you’re probably right, but at least you’ll have some peace of mind knowing that you got it off of your chest.”
your throat tightened, and the sting associated with tears welling in your eyes made its presence known. you quickly glanced away from her, wiping the few tears that managed to escape with the sleeve of your sweater.
you spent countless nights wishing your mother was different. wondering why she couldn’t just be proud of you, regardless of whether or not you’re a cheerleader, or in band, or played sports, or joined an academic club, or just didn’t give a shit about any extracurriculars. because at the end of the day, you’re her daughter, and her love for you should supersede all of that useless shit that won’t matter once you graduate from high school in a few months. she should want you to be happy, should lift you up and support you, not tear you down and make your formative years hell.
“you know…you should definitely start smoking weed,” rebecca said, breaking the silence. “i’m telling you, it works wonders. it helps me when my mom starts her shit. it’ll help you, too.”
“i can’t do that,” you shook your head. “my mom would kill me.”
“she doesn’t have to know,” rebecca countered. “you have that shed in the back of your house, right? the one your dad never uses? you can smoke in there if you’re afraid to do it inside. i promise you, it’ll make everything so much easier.”
the thought does sound nice in theory. being able to shut your brain off? even for a moment? to deal with the unnecessary pressure your mother put on you? to deal with her constant judgment?
rebecca watched as the wheels turned in your head; a look of consideration sweeping across your tired features.
“okay…but…there’s only one problem. i wouldn’t know where to like, i dunno…get it?”
“well, it’s your lucky day, because i know just the person for that,” she grinned. “patrick’s guy he usually would get from moved out of town a couple weeks back. he was all bummed about it, but one of his buddies on the football team told him where he gets his. it’s actually pretty good shit.”
she talked really fast, almost like she was trying to hurry before someone walked by and heard her talking about her boyfriend’s drug habit.
“who does he get it from?” you asked slowly, brow raised as you glanced at her.
“eddie munson.”
winters in hawkins were the absolute worst. snow still covered the ground from two days prior and more was set to fall in the coming week. you hated the cold and everything that came with it. the dark, gloomy days, the freezing temperatures, the snow, etc. if you could snap your fingers and have it be spring all year ‘round, you definitely would.
especially right now, that you were standing outside by the side of the school, with no cover to shield you from the biting wind. your hands felt frozen, despite having gloves on, and the pockets of your winter coat didn’t do much to help. you silently cursed at mother nature for creating winter to begin with.
you weren’t sure how long you had been standing out in the cold. you glanced at your watch, which read 3:45pm.
fifteen minutes. he had said to meet him at 3:30.
you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you shoved your hand back into your coat pocket. maybe he had lost track of time? or maybe he didn’t take you seriously? or he was playing some kind of prank on you? whatever the case, you were fed up with being in the cold, and wanted to go home to the warmth of your bed.
you kicked at a rock before turning to head towards the parking lot when you smashed face-first into a solid mass, letting out a yelp of surprise.
“whoa! hey! sorry! didn’t mean to scare you,” a voice, soft, yet full of amusement chuckled above you.
you pulled back, coming face to face with the man of the hour, himself: eddie munson.
he was panting a little, like he had been running or something, his curly hair was even more wild and unruly than it normally is, his black combat boots wet with shards of grass sticking to them. he was wearing two jackets, a light, black one underneath his signature leather jacket, his denim vest overtop, and dark denim jeans. wasn’t he cold? it didn’t look nearly warm enough to keep him comfortable in the frosty breeze.
eddie noticed the concerned look on your face, leaning in a bit closer, brown eyes furrowed as he carefully asked, “you okay?”
“uh, yeah, yeah, just—didn’t expect to literally bump into you,” you chuckled through your nose. you glanced around you, suddenly feeling a bit awkward and nervous.
“right, okay,” he shook his head. “so, um, we can do this in my van? if you want? ya know, to get out of the cold. you look like you could warm up some.”
you hadn’t realized you were practically shivering; the wind having picked up suddenly and out of nowhere.
“sure,” you nodded, giving him a small smile.
he lead the way to his van, which surprisingly wasn’t that far of a walk from where he had asked you to meet him, thankfully. he opened the passenger door for you, a charming smile plastered on his features as he dramatically gestured to the empty passenger seat. “welcome to my castle on wheels.”
you giggled, slinging your backpack off your shoulders and tossing it onto the floorboard. eddie watched as you hopped up into the van, waiting until you were completely situated before closing the door and hurrying to the driver’s side. he got in quickly and turned it on, then put the heater and blower on the highest setting.
glancing around the van, you couldn’t say you were surprised by what you saw. cassette tapes were strewn everywhere, most of which were bands that you had recognized and some you didn’t, a few receipts were also scattered on the floorboards in the front and the back, an empty cigarette pack laid next to your feet; a denim jacket was laid out in the backseat, though it wasn’t covered in patches and pins like his vest, along with his backpack that sat right next to it, unmoved.
you knew of eddie, since he was in your english class, but you didn’t know him very well, if at all. the only thing you really knew about him was that he was theatrical, eccentric, had been held back twice for failing a majority, if not all, of his classes, and that your boyfriend couldn’t stand him at all. you always felt bad for him whenever jason and his buddies picked on him. you had stood up for him, demanded that jason cut his shit out and leave him alone, only to be met with, 'he’s a freak, babe. people like that deserve to be made fun of.'
eddie cleared his throat and you were pulled from your thoughts, shifting in your seat like you had just been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.
“sorry,” you said shyly, wringing your hands together in your lap as you looked down at them.
“don’t be,” eddie shook his head. “i know it’s a bit of a mess in here.”
“oh no, that’s not what i thought at all,” you stammered. “really.”
he looked at you with a raised brow, almost like he didn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth.
he didn’t.
“right,” he scoffed, opening the black metal box he had sitting in his lap. he took the bag of weed out and held it up for you to see, his brown eyes fixated on you. “anyway, i’ll do you a half ounce for, uh…twenty. whaddya say? plenty of bang for your buck. should last a while.”
a group of students walked by, all laughing rambunctiously, and you turned your head in their direction. your chest was heaving slightly, and your eyes were wide with anxiety as you scanned the crowd. a small part of you was worried it was jason and his friends ⎯ that he had come looking for you and would find you here with eddie. you didn’t care about what he would say to you, but more-so what he would say and do to him. the thought made you shudder.
“hey, uh, we don’t need to do this,” eddie rolled his eyes, putting the baggie back inside the metal box and closing it up. “just give me the word and i’ll walk away. or, you can walk away.”
he was annoyed. why did he even agree to sell to you in the first place? he wasn’t in dire need of money ⎯ he had made more than enough earlier in the day when trevor mcclendon bought over a hundred dollars worth of cocaine for the party he was throwing that upcoming saturday. and even if he was, he definitely didn’t need the money from jason carver’s girlfriend. of all people.
“no, no! i-i don’t want that,” you flicked your gaze back to him.
eddie turned to look at you at the exact same time, meeting your gaze. his hardened exterior faltered the second he looked into your eyes. you were scared. no? anxious? no. desperate? that seemed more like it. not desperate in the way that you had gone a long time without weed and needed a fix ⎯ no, he had seen that look one too many times to know that isn’t what was going on with you. it was one that called for help, that begged for it, and it left him wildly intrigued.
“have you ever felt…forced to be someone that you’re not?”
your voice was low, barely above a whisper, and eddie may have missed it had he not been watching you like a hawk.
everything about your body language screamed that you were uncomfortable with even talking about it. your hands were fidgeting in your lap, you kept shifting in the seat, chewing on the corner of your lip, your eyes quickly darting to look anywhere but at eddie. he didn’t expect this coming from you. not that he knew you well enough to say that this was completely out of character for you ⎯ he just didn’t think the ‘queen of hawkins high’ would ever be pretending to be someone that she wasn’t.
“uhh, well, i used to,” he cleared his throat. “back in like middle school, and shit? but uhh…then i realized it didn’t do much, ‘cauuuse i got shit on anyway, so i just said ‘fuck it’ and started doin’ my own thing. been a looot happier ever since.”
the memories of that time in his life come to the forefront of his mind. of when he got teased a lot for having long hair (though now that he thinks about it, it wouldn’t have been considered long compared to how it is now), when the other kids would laugh and call him poor because his shirts had a hole or two in them, and, of course, for being into dungeons and dragons.
he remembers coming home one day, his little eyes red and puffy from crying. he couldn’t understand why the other kids were so mean to him. all he did was keep to himself, aside from the few friends he had made who happened to like metal just like him. wayne listened to him, held him, as he cried in his lap, begging to just be like everyone else. that maybe, just maybe, they’d leave him alone.
that night, he asked wayne to cut his hair, and even though wayne tried to talk him out of it, eddie was persistent. so, wayne grabbed a pair of scissors and the hair clippers, and did as the kid wished.
he shudders at the thought, shaking his head as if to rid it completely.
you don’t know how he does it. how he can just be himself despite everything that he gets thrown at him. the other students wouldn’t dare confront him, all being too afraid of what he’d do to them, but you know what they say behind his back. devil worshipper. cult leader. freak. weirdo.
sitting here with him, in his van, and seeing the slight vulnerability he’s sharing with you, you start to think maybe eddie isn’t as bad as everyone makes him out to be.
you must have been silent for some time, lost in a train of thought, because eddie’s voice pulls you back into the present.
“you know, this isn’t the first time we’ve, um, hung out.”
“no?”
“you don’t remember?”
when did that happen? you tried to wrack your brain for when you had ever hung out with eddie munson.
“uh, i’m sorry,” you chuckled awkwardly, shaking your head.
“it’s okay. i wouldn’t remember me either,” he said in a funny voice, making you giggle.
“you really don’t remember me?” he asked, looking at you like he couldn’t believe you, his arms crossed in front of him.
“i’m sorry!” you giggled, putting your hands over your face playfully, trying to hide from him.
“middle school talent show,” he said and you took your hands off of your face, listening to him intently. “you were doing the cheer thing that you do? which was kinda cool, actually.”
he made a high v and diagonal motion, though it was really bad and made you chuckle. suddenly it hits you, the memory of that day, and you gasp in realization.
“oh my god, yes! you were with uhh, your band…uhh,” you snapped your fingers several times, hoping it would come to you. “corroded coffin!!”
“yes!” he punched the air excitedly, clapping. “you do remember!”
“jesus,” you laughed, beaming as you looked over at him. “i shared my french fries with you that day! how could i forget?”
it all came to you — sitting next to eddie backstage before your performance, striking up casual conversation with him that turned into the two of you giggling uncontrollably, sharing the french fries that came with the burger meal your father had brought you.
“i dunno, maybe i wasn’t as memorable to you as i hoped i’d be,” he admitted, chewing the corner of his lip, brown eyes still trained on you.
he had the tiniest crush on you back then, though it was extremely short lived once he realized that day at the talent show was all it would ever be between the two of you. you had your circle, he had his — your worlds were never meant to collide.
“no, it’s just you looked soo..diff—.”
“different? yeah,” he chuckled. “well, my hair was buzzed and i didn’t have these sweet ol’ tatties yet.”
giggling, you glanced at where eddie had pulled down the front of his shirt, noticing the black ink barely poking out, a stark contrast against his creamy skin.
“you played guitar, right?”
“yup,” he nodded, beaming with pride. “still do.”
“i remember thinking you were pretty good,” you admitted, the memory of watching him play with his band from the side of the stage flashing in your mind.
eddie’s smile grew. that same feeling he had all those years ago, when you first sat next to him backstage at the middle school talent show, came crashing back to him like a tidal wave.
“uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so…twenty-five percent discount for the half,” he said as he flipped open the black metal box and took the bag of weed out again. “fifteen bucks. you’re robbing me blind here, ya know.”
“oh god, eddie, no,” you shook your head. “no, you don’t have to do that.”
“really! it’s no biggie,” eddie insisted, reaching over the middle console to hand the bag to you.
“no!” you giggled, pulling the twenty dollar bill tucked away in the back pocket of your jeans. “i’m not gonna cut you short.”
before he could protest, you took the bag and slipped the twenty into his hand as fast as you could, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth.
he playfully rolled his eyes, but accepted your offer nonetheless. you stuffed the weed into the front part of your backpack, making sure it was safe and secure. when you finished, you turned to look at him.
“thanks, eddie,” you smiled gratefully.
“anytime,” he replied with a genuine smile.
your gaze lingered a moment longer before opening the door to leave. you hopped out first, wincing as the bitter cold hit you like a ton of bricks, then, grabbed your backpack.
“wait!” eddie called out, effectively halting your movements.
you looked at him curiously with a tilt of your head, wondering what else he could have forgotten to tell you.
“you should come see my band play,” he rushed, brows pinched together before softening his expression. “we play at the hideout every tuesday.”
a smile tugged at the corner of your lips, but you tried to hide it. “it’s not a sleazy bar, is it?”
“i mean, it’s not the garden, but you gotta start somewhere,” he chuckled, resting his arm on the middle console as he leaned over. “we usually get a crowd of about fiiiive drunks.”
you laughed, shying away from his gaze for a moment before flitting your eyes back to him. “what time?”
“eight o’clock,” he answered. he didn’t know why he was so nervous about asking you, or why his palms started to sweat whenever you took a while to answer.
you slung your backpack over your right shoulder, smirking at him as you said, “see, ya around, munson.”
Corroded Coffin Fest 2026 - Day 17 - Answering Machine
Summary: Eddie learns that he's really good at charming you, but not so good at charming your answering machine.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 950
Rating: T
Warnings/Themes: Fluff, New Relationships, Romance, Humor, Idiots in Love (emphasis on idiot)
Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you don’t start on Day 1, you can still join! <3
You can find my masterlist here.
This is a one-shot that ties into my series Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction where, in a turn-the-tables sort of moment, the reader character is Eddie's favorite character from a cult-classic 80's television show, and you unexpectedly show up in Hawkins. (Much like all of our wishes at one point or another to meet our favorite fictional characters.)
This falls in somewhere between Chapters 1 & 2.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
Eddie worried his lip between his teeth as his eyes darted between the phone, and the pen-marked phone number that stained the palm of his hand.
Your phone number.
He'd nervously asked for it that morning, when you'd been running out of your trailer.
"Kind of putting the cart before the horse," you joked. "Taking me to breakfast, charming me, fixing my car...then asking for my number."
He'd laughed and scratched the back of his head.
"Sometimes the cart moves faster when you let the horse push it," he offered bashfully.
Somehow you'd still gifted him with your digits, and he'd been careful not to let them smear or wash off all day.
Now all he had to do was build up the courage to call you.
Invite you on a date, or that aforementioned study session that you'd offered. Something, anything. Mainly, all he wanted to do was talk to you some more; how many times had he stared at the television, wishing just for that? Now he had the opportunity and he was afraid of picking up the phone.
“Just do it, don’t be a chicken.” He shook out his limbs and muttered to himself. “Just pick up the phone and call. She’s not gonna answer. Just leave a message. How bad could it be?”
He grabbed the receiver and dialed.
His heart rattled in his chest with every ring.
Leave a message after the beep.
He took a breath just as it sounded and he started talking.
“Hey, sweetheart, thanks for your number. I, uh, figured maybe if you were free on Thursday night you could come over and we could hang out. I’ll grab some soda’s, and maybe we order pizza? I'll even take up that offer for you to help with my history homework? We can listen to some music too? I dunno. Or…or whatever you wanna do. It’s fine by me. Anyways, just lemme know. I’ll see you around.”
He slammed the receiver on the cradle and then winced. It sounded terrible. It was one long breath, he was barely able to talk by the end of it. And, shit, had he even said his name? Or left a number?
“Fuck,” he groaned.
No, it was gonna be ok. Who else would call? Obviously you would know it was him.
...But what if you didn’t?
He grabbed the receiver and dialed again.
Leave a message after the beep.
He took it easier this time, slower. “Hey, sorry, I realized I didn’t even tell you who I was. Or leave my number, in case you wanted to call back. Guess I was nervous.” He laughed lightly. “Is that embarrassing to admit? That you make me nervous? God, I’m fumbling this again, aren’t I? I guess…I dunno, you’re the most interesting person who’s rolled into town in a while. Wanna make a good impression. Anyway, uh, talk to you later.”
He hung up again, a satisfied smile on his lips.
And then he realized he’d done it again.
“DAMN IT, MUNSON!”
Third time’s a charm.
“Pick up the phone, dial, leave your name and number, hang up,” he said through gritted teeth.
Leave a message after the beep.
“It’s Eddie Munson!” He shouted into the receiver, then recited his number. And hung up.
Simple.
Until he realized he sounded like an absolute nut..
“Fuck!”
Leave a message after the beep.
"Sorry that must make me sound insane. It's Eddie Munson, and if you wanna call me back, that's cool. Or you don't have to, that's cool too. If you want nothing to do with me. Maybe...maybe you should just stay away from me. You know, you'd probably be better off."
He slammed his hand against the hook switch and dialed again.
"What are you even doing anymore?!"
Leave a message after the beep.
“Hey it’s Eddie again, Eddie Munson. Sorry. I realize I’m really fucking this all up, and if you don’t wanna talk to me ever again you don’t have to. Shit, except I don't really mean that and could you possibly find it in your heart to not think I’m insane.”
There was a knock on the front door of the trailer and he groaned. He put the receiver between his shoulder and his head and yanked the cord so it would stretch as he went to see who it was.
“I’m just trying to leave a nice message and I keep messing it up and now I’m getting interrupted. Fuck! Can’t a guy just have a telephone call in peace?!”
He shouted the last bit and threw the door open, only to go slack jawed when he saw you standing there. Your lips were pressed together, as you clearly tried to hold back your laughter.
Eddie took the receiver and threw it back towards the transmitter, wincing as he heard a crash.
“Uh, hey, sweetheart,” he greeted with as much nonchalance as he could muster. “What’s...uh...up?” He shot double finger guns your way, and then winced and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You wanna hang out on Thursday?” You asked, biting your lip to keep your smile controlled.
“Sure,” he nodded.
“Great!” You leaned forward and said the next bit sotto voce. "See how easy that is?"
He sighed and leaned against the doorjamb. “So you heard all of that.”
“Absolutely.”
“Sat there and just let me keep calling?”
“Well, I would’ve just picked up but…” You shrugged. “I don’t have a TV yet. A girl needs to find entertainment where she can.”
“Well, uh…” Eddie's heart couldn't have beat any faster if it tried. He uncrossed his arms and made an exaggerated bow. “Happy to be your court jester, my lady.”
Eddie's back home and now the both of you have to face each other after that drunken late night text
No smut yet, but there will be in future chapters, so minors please don't interact
*as always, not proof-read, so if you saw any mistakes, no you didn't
Word Count - 3,631
Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist
Monday Morning, the sun streams through your curtains, breaking the dawn of a new day.
Eddie was going to be coming back from Steve’s wedding today and after the late night text he’d sent you in the dusky late hours of last night it was safe to say that you were anticipating things between the two of you to be awkward to say the least.
You had a the suspicion that that text was nothing more than his drunken conscience making the decisions that sober eddie would surely regret come the morning, but it would be an absolute lie if you told yourself that the thought of him thinking about you, even in his presumed state of tipsiness, didn’t make your heart race.
Because it did. Your heart skipped beats, all because your cute, kind and caring neighbour with the devastatingly alluring brown eyes had thought of you.
Your final check on Pepper this morning had gone smoothly enough, she ate her food and leaned into your affectionate cuddles whilst you gave Eddie’s place a quick check to see that everything was in place before he came back later today.
It had just turned one in the afternoon as you loaded your laundry into the washing machine, when you received a knock at the door. Kicking the washing machine door shut with your foot and pressing the button to whir it into life you make your way over to your front door.
You quickly glance your eye through the peephole in your door and you’re met with a fishbowl lens look at Eddie, his fluffy curls somehow seem even bigger in this view. He’s tucked his hands behind his back, and rocking back and forth on his heels slightly as he waits on you to unlock the door, and maybe some fantasist part of your brain is imagining it, but he almost looks a little bit excited, like he’d been keen to see you again, but surely, your brain was just teaming up with your heart to play tricks on you.
Sliding your locks open you let him in, bracing yourself with what you hope is a welcoming smile, and not the awkward one that it feels like as it stretches across your lips.
“Hey, Eddie.”
“Hey, yourself, thanks again for looking after Pepper.”
“Honestly it was no problem, she was a sweetheart, you probably want your keys back, right?” you nod. “Come on in, I’ll go get them for you.”
Eddie steps through the threshold of your apartment, his eyes going everywhere immediately. The layout of your respective apartments are virtually the same, but with the way you’ve decorated it, everything feels lighter, fresher, and brighter. The warm afternoon breeze blowing in through the open window, breathes life into the room.
The walls are painted in a soft pink, with various little posters and artworks on the wall. A plush deep green two seater couch sits in the middle of the room with a low rise glass coffee table separating it from the wall mounted television. There’s books stacked into a tall bookshelf, and Eddie tries his hardest to read the titles of the books if only just to see what kind of things you’re into.
There aren’t many books he recognises, but the standout thing he certainly does recognise however, is the three volumes of The Lord of The Rings, each one tucked next to the other in a neat little boxset cover.
He too was a fiend for the high fantasy adventure series, and knowing
“You’ve read Tolkien?” Eddie asks, his fingers gently grazing over the spines of the books, tracing the gold embossed words of the familiar titles.
“Yeah, I will admit it took me a while, but I loved them! The films are good, don’t get me wrong, but they can only cover so much, you know?” you say as you waltz back into the room, Eddie’s keyrings jangling in between your fingers as you hand them over.
“I know right?” Eddie laughs heartily. “Like where the hell was Tom Bombadil? He’s like one of the most important characters and they just completely left him out of the movies!”
“Oh my god yes!” you laugh in agreement with him. “And don’t even get me started on the fact that they totally cut the bit where Saruman and his thugs take over the Shire! It’s like one of the most important points of the hobbits' development in the story.”
The laughter dies down, and in its place an awkward silence fills the air. Neither one of you wants to bring up the obvious elephant in the room of the late night text, but the fact that both of you know about it hangs around like an unwanted presence all the same.
It’s Eddie who braves the first step, breathing out a sigh before speaking
“Listen, about that text, I totally didn’t mean-”
“I get it.” you say, quick to cut him off in his tracks. There’s no point in beating around the bush, it’s better to just rip the band-aid off. Quickly. “I know a drunk text when I see one, Eddie.” you say letting a kind, graceful smile pull across your face. “I know you didn’t mean it.”
“Well I just wanted to apologise all the same, the last thing I want to do is come across as some kind of creep. Especially when it comes to you.”
You try your very best not to dwell too much on what he means by ‘especially when it comes to you.’
“Don’t worry Eddie,” you smile. “It actually made me laugh to receive your text, drunken typos included. God know it’s been a while since I’ve had anyone send me such a sweet message like that”
Moving into this apartment had been the beginning of a fresh chapter in your life. The same old tired story, some dumb girl who thought she had her whole life figured out, and had been too blinded by love to realise she had been sharing her supposedly loyal boyfriend with the woman in his office.
So many nights of ‘Sorry baby, the company needs me to stay late to close this deal’ but then would slyly sink next to you in between the sheets smelling of some unfamiliarly sweet perfume. It got to a point where you had to admit to yourself that you were simply ignoring the biggest red flag known to man, all in order to live a happy life.
But the thing is, you weren’t happy. You hadn’t been happy in a long time.
That night, as you lay in bed, you plotted the next step in your life.
You waited for him to slither off to work whilst you and your best friend packed up all your belongings. Leaving him with nothing but a less than charming note telling him exactly how you feel.
“I find that hard to believe. A girl like you should be drowning in messages” Eddie chuckles. “I mean, your ex had to be some kind of special idiot to look elsewhere when he had you in front of him this whole time.”
“That’s very sweet of you to say, Eddie,” you blushed.” But, you’d be surprised how bad the dating scene is out there.” you scoffed with an airy laugh.
“I’ve been out of the game for so long, I wouldn’t even know where to begin” he says earnestly, raking a big tattooed hand through his dark spiral curls, and damn if that doesn’t make your heart skip a beat.
“I actually tried the whole online dating thing for a little while, y’know put myself back out on the scene, but after one too many bad dates you start to lose hope.”
Eddie’s soft brown eyes never move from you as you speak. His gaze would be intimidating, and you supposed in some ways it was, but it was intimidating in a way that felt exciting, but more than that there’s a kindness in those deep chocolate brown eyes that makes you feel safe.
“You can’t just say ‘bad bates’ and leave me hanging, you gotta give me the juicy details.”
“No, no, come on, you don’t want to hear my horror stories.” You laugh. Part of you is a little nervous of scaring him off, not that you’re anything but neighbours to each other, but you can’t help but want to hope for more between you two.
“Look, I work behind a bar, so I’ve had front row seats to a fair share of bad dates, so c’mon, give me your worst, I wanna hear it.” He says, opening his arms up for you, waiting for you to command the stage with your story.
“Okay, but you have to promise me that you won’t laugh.” you preface, before launching into your most embarrassing, worst first date story. “So, I matched with this guy, and I thought he was pretty cute and we chatted and everything was going really well, so we agreed to meet up. There I am, sitting at this coffee shop waiting for my date to turn up and then all of a sudden this old man sits down opposite me, he had to be in mid seventies maybe, and then, of course, I’m thinking he must be lost or something, but then he says my name like he knows me, and then it dawns on me that I’ve been catfished.”
“Wait, What?” Eddie gasps. “You’d been talking to this old man the whole time and you had no idea? But quickly that look of shock on Eddie’s face turns into an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips.
“Hey! You promised you wouldn’t laugh!” you plead, but Eddie’s cheeky smile starts to break down your walls, and gets you to crack a smile of your own.
“I think you’ll find I made no such promise.” he says, crossing his arms, puffing up his broad chest.
“It gets worse too”
“I really don’t see how it can get any worse. Oh no, don’t tell me he was married.” Eddie grills, taunting you to see where this story was going to go.
“I almost wish that were the case. No, he was using pictures of his grandson and was claiming that it was him. I didn’t stick around after that.”
“God, that is pretty rough.”
“What about you, come on, you got to hear my worst date story, you’ve gotta give me something to work with.” you try to prompt Eddie, fair was only fair, you’d bore your most embarrassing story, it was only right that you got to hear something from him as compensation.
Eddie sighed a little, almost like he was heavily considering even daring to tell this story to begin with.
“I’m not hearing anything embarrassing..” you tease.
“Okay, so it’s not a first date story like yours, but this is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me. I was a fair bit younger when this happened, so I was full of stupid ideas back then. I’d been working behind the bar at the dungeon for a few months at this point and things were going well, except one weekend when I overhear my manager mention that one of the bands that had been booked to play in the evening had pulled out and now they didn’t have anyone to fill the slot for Saturday, so naturally I piped up and said that me and my band could do it, and my manager didn’t question it.”
“I’m getting there.” Eddie laughs softly. “Anyway, cut to the night of the show, and the boys and I are getting ready to go on, and it’s way more people than we’ve ever played to before, so I start to get a bit nervous and knock back a couple of shots of liquid courage”
Oh no, this didn’t sound like it was going to end well.
“So I’m more than a little drunk, I’m slurring words when I’m singing, my guitar playing is all off, my bassist Gareth is scowling at me and it’s just going awful.”
“So that’s your most embarrassing story?” you ask
“Oh no, it gets worse don’t worry. So, the whole show is a mess and in my drunken mind the only thing I can think of to save it is to do a stage dive. I position myself at the edge of the stage and just jump. To cut a long story short, it wasn’t as cool as I pictured it in my head, and ended my night in the emergency room to fix my broken nose and get stitches in my forehead.”
“Oof, and I thought my story was bad, at least I didn’t end my night in a trip to the ER”
You can’t help but laugh a little at Eddie’s expense, and your bright smile and adorable laugh might just be the cutest thing Eddie’s ever seen. The way your eyes crinkle, and how your nose scrunches, and all because of something he said. There’s a part of him that wants to make a fool of himself, just so he’s rewarded with the sight of your beautiful smile.
He takes his hand and brushes back his dark, frizzy bangs to show you where there’s a small and pale scar hidden in between the few creased wrinkles in his forehead.
“I got this sweet little scar right here as a remind me to never try stage diving ever again”
“Well at least you’re not young and stupid anymore” you laugh softly.
“Well, I’m not young anymore that’s for sure, still working on the stupid part.” he says with a chuckle. “Anyway, sorry for bothering you, I just wanted to drop by to say thank you for looking after Pepper and my apartment while I was away.”
“You’re not bothering me, it was no problem, she was an angel.”
There’s a beat of a moment. A breath of silence with neither of you quite sure of what to say next. It wasn’t that the silence was awkward, no, what was strange was however, was how comfortable you both felt in the other’s presence.
“Well, I best get going now, but thank you again.” Eddie says, as he rocks back on his heels, swinging his keering around on his finger, almost like he’s nervous or something.
“It was nice seeing you Eddie.” For a brief moment your body automatically thinks about going in for a hug, but your brain works faster and pulls your body back before you can make an awkward scene.
You walk with him to your apartment door, waving him across the small corridor that separates your two apartments.
“Don’t forget” you call out to him just as he’s about to turn into his own place “ I’m just across the hall if you ever need anything else!”
He gives you a silent nod and two finger salute, a cheeky smile pulling at his pink lips as he disappears behind his door.
You slip back into your apartment, closing the door behind you. Your hands drag down your face with an embarrassed huff of breath leaving your lips as you thunk your head back against the door. Why did he make you act so stupid?
You hadn’t seen Eddie for a few days, reasoning that your daytime hours are conflicting with his night shifts, and you’re thankful for that actually. Thankful to have a little breather away from whatever hold he seems to have over you and your heart. A chance to level with your feelings about the cute bartender who lives across from you.
You roll out of bed, and take advantage of the day off you have to explore the city a little bit.
With breakfast eaten and cleared away you change out of your pyjamas into a light and breezy outfit, some denim cut off shorts and a striped linen shirt worn unbuttoned just enough, the open sides knotted around your waist. Finishing off your outfit with a few little pieces of jewellery and a spritz of perfume you grab your bag as you make your way out the door and into the streets.
The sun shines on your face with a balmy heat, as you strut through the neighbourhood, tall apartment buildings with overflowing window boxes, the golden rays glinting off shiny cars parked on the sidewalk.
You keep walking for a while, stopping into a cute little cafe and grabbing an iced coffee to keep you going.
You know what you’re looking for, and so when you turn the corner the exact building you’re looking for comes into your line of sight.
Bits & Pots Pottery Studio
You’d made it a point to visit Robin’s studio ever since Eddie gifted that cute mug from her shop.
As you push through the door you’re immediately met with the earthy scent of clay and paint.
There’s a counter in the front of the shop, staffed by a woman with fiery red hair twisted into two long braids that fall around to frame her pale, freckled face. She regards you with her sparkling blue eyes before speaking. She’s wearing a soft lilac apron with a name tag pinned on her chest, along with a few other colourful buttons. Vickie, the name tag reads.
“Hi, welcome to Bits & Pots Pottery Studio, how can I help you today?”
“Hi, I was wondering if I might be able to find Robin? I’m a friend of a friend.” you start out tentatively, because what were eddie and you to each other but friends and neighbours? The fact that you could potentially see something with him had nothing to do with it.
Just as Robin’s name left your lips the girl in question came bobbling in. A soft green, clay splattered apron, although there were suspiciously more bone white clay splotches on her hands, arms and dark brown overalls than there was on her apron.
“Speak of the devil.” Vickie mutters under her breath, before gleefully accepting a kiss on the cheek from Robin.
“You know you love me.” Robin teases back. “Anyway I heard my name..wait..I know you! You were that girl from the bar the other night..right?”
“Yup that’s me” you nod.
“I’m sorry you had to meet me when I was sloppy drunk, that’s not usually how I like to make my first impressions”
“That’s why you were late in the studio on Monday? You told me you had a dentist appointment!" Vickie scoffs, having caught Robin in a lie.
“Look I was nursing a godzilla sized hangover, I wasn’t in any fit state to see or do anything, okay? Cut me some slack.” Robin defends against Vickie’s accusatory tone of voice. “Anyway, what can I do for you?” Robin asks as she turns her attention to you.
“I was hoping I could grab a chat with you if you’re not too busy?”
“Sure, come on in the back to the drying room, it’s a little more private there, so long as you don’t mind sitting amongst slowly drying clay.” Robin says with a charming little laugh, before calling out to VIckie over her shoulder to look after the front of the shop whilst she’s gone.
You follow in behind Robin to the drying room, where, sure enough, there are stacked shelves full of mugs, vases of different sizes and experimental sculptures that almost look like monsters from another dimension. The room is toasty, the sun gleaming in through the big glass windows turning this place into something akin to a pleasantly warm greenhouse.
“What did you want to talk to little old me about, huh?” Robin asks, as she pulls up her knees on one of the wooden benches.
“Well, I kinda wanted to ask you something..something about Eddie?” you start carefully. Robin gives you a silent nod so you continue. “I was wondering if you knew anything about his girlfriend. I was looking after his cat, Pepper, while he was away for Steve’s wedding and I stumbled across a picture of him with this girl.”
“You like him don’t you?” Robin asks, although it’s not so much a question but more an assumption, and one she’d nailed down with pin-point accuracy.
A glowing flush works its way across your cheeks and it’s not just from the heat of the drying room either.
“...maybe…” you stutter out a little. “..but if he’s already got a girl I don’t want to make a fool of myself by flirting with him and have him turn me down, I mean we live opposite each other for crying out loud!”
“Hey hey, slow your roll cowgirl,” Robin hushes, quieting your spiraling emotions before they have time to turn into a full blown tornado. Then she sighs, shifting her tone into something more serious. “Amber really left her mark on Eddie. The Eddie I knew was loud, brash, cocky, and god knows damn right annoying at times, but that was Eddie. By the time Amber was finished with him, it was like his spark had gone out. The thing that made Eddie, Eddie, was nowhere to be seen.”
You ponder Robin’s words for a moment, a wave of relief washes over you at the fact that you certainly wouldn’t be stepping on anyone’s toes by making a pass at Eddie, but then there’s a bigger concern growing inside you about what if you were pushing yourself on Eddie when he wasn’t even ready to open up to letting himself get another chance at happiness?
“Look, just talk to him, he’s not scary, he just needs someone to show him that there’s still some good people out there, y’know?” Robin smiles warmly, “Give him a chance, you might just be surprised."
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summary: After a late night of drinking and a unexpected confession, Eddie Munson unknowingly becomes the test subject for a very important lesson- teaching Robin Buckley how to have sex with a guy.
warnings/tags: smut!, porn with very little plot, bisexual reader, experimenting robin, eddies just along for the ride, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, drunk/high sex, first time, this fic is very self indulgent sue me
shout out to my girlies for beta reading and polishing the outline ♡ @gem-writes @hamilhansen ♡
masterlist
The pool lights rippled across the water like liquid stars, turning Steve’s backyard into something that felt half-real and completely yours. Summer 1987 had been a strange, hazy stretch of rebuilding, government quarantines, and trying to remember how to just exist. But tonight none of that mattered. Tonight was warm air, cool water, and the low, constant sound of your friends laughing like the world wasn't trying to end.
You were sitting on the top step of the shallow end, legs stretched out. A red Solo cup rested on your knee. Across from you, Eddie floated on his back on one of those ridiculous floaties, arms spread wide, tattoos catching the light every time he breathed. Robin sat on the wide ledge near the diving board, knees tucked up, sipping whatever concoction Eddie had made her. Steve was right beside you on the edge, feet dangling in the water, a joint between his fingers and that loose, half-drunk smile he only wore when it was just the four of you.
Eddie sat up with a splash, water streaming down his face. “Okay, but hear me out — I’m telling you, if I can just get the timing right on the bridge, this song is gonna slap. It's dark. It's sexy. I had to write a badass song about surviving the apocalypse, right? Like I didn't get these fuckin' scars for nothing.”
Robin made a noise like she was choking on her own laughter. “Munson. You're insane.”
“Insane? Maybe. But,” Eddie said, pointing at her with the joint before passing it to you. “You know you'd do the same shit Buckley. Some of us are just more musically talented than others.”
Steve snorted, reaching over to steal the joint from your fingers after you took a hit. The smoke curled warm in your lungs, making everything feel a little softer around the edges. “Dude, you survived one apocalypse. Try surviving four. Plus Buckley is great with music. Don't shit on her trombone talents.”
You laughed so hard you had to grab Steve’s arm to keep from sliding off the step. “Yeah Munson. That girls got good blowing skills. Don't shit on her.”
Eddie clutched his chest dramatically. “I would never shit on my dear Buckley. You know I love you. Maybe I could use some of your blowing skills on this song.”
“Blowing skills?” Robin echoed. “Christ Munson. If you want me to blow you, you're gonna be waiting a long ass time.”
Steve was laughing too hard to come up with a coherent thought. Eddie looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. Steve just splashed water at Eddie with his foot and said, “You’re all lucky I let you live here. I could’ve had peace and quiet. Instead I get you three idiots bickering and someone— someone — keeps stealing my good towels and leaving them on the bathroom floor.”
Robin raised her hand. “That was me. They’re softer than mine. Sue me.”
You leaned back on your elbows, the water lapping gently at your waist. “Speaking of stealing… Eddie, you owe Steve like six pairs of socks at this point. I saw them in your room.”
Eddie looked down at his feet in the water like he’d been caught. “They’re comfortable. And Stevie already stretched them out so they're perfect.”
“It’s theft,” Steve said, but he was grinning, the kind of grin that crinkled his whole face. “You know what else is theft? The last of the good cereal. I bought that box of Lucky Charms yesterday. It was gone by breakfast. I’m looking at you, Buckley.”
Robin didn’t even try to deny it. “I have no regrets. You can’t leave name-brand cereal in a house with three other people and expect it to survive. That’s on you, Harrington.”
The joint made another slow circle. You took a hit, passed it to Robin, and felt that warm, floaty buzz settle deeper into your chest. Everything felt good — the way the pool lights made Eddie’s wet hair look almost black, the way Steve kept bumping his knee against yours like he didn’t even notice he was doing it, the way Robin’s sarcasm had gone soft around the edges tonight. With the four of you the conversations could change on a dime but everyone kept up. You all loved each other.
Eddie paddled closer, resting his arms on the edge near your legs. “You know what I still can’t believe? That time Steve tried to make lasagna for all of us and used sugar instead of salt in the sauce.”
Steve groaned and dropped his head back. “It was dark! The containers looked the same!”
“It tasted like someone murdered an Italian grandmother,” Robin said solemnly. “I still have trauma. I had to wash it down with three beers just to be polite.”
You grinned at Steve. “And then you tried to fix it by adding more cheese and it just became… cheese soup with noodles.”
Steve pointed at you, mock-offended. “You ate three bowls. Don’t act like you weren’t into it.”
“I was high,” you said. “Everything tastes good when you’re high. That doesn’t make it good.”
Eddie cackled and flicked water at Steve. “She’s got you there, Harrington. Face it — you’re a menace in the kitchen. But we keep you around for the pool and the hair care products. Your shampoo collection is the only thing keeping this house from falling into complete chaos.”
Steve ran a hand through his wet hair on instinct. “It’s a routine you heathens. You wouldn’t understand. Some of us like to look like we didn’t just crawl out of a hedge.”
Robin leaned over and ruffled his hair on purpose, making it stick up in every direction. “There. Now you look like the rest of us. Welcome to the hedge club.”
Steve swatted at her hand but he was laughing again, that easy, bright sound that always made the night feel safer. The four of you drifted like that for a while — splashing each other lazily, trading stories about the ridiculous little disasters of living together, the past year. It's become something you never wanted to let go of. Your safe space in the chaos of the world.
Your skin was starting to prune. The high had turned everything warm around the edges. You felt loose and happy and stupidly fond of all of them.
Robin was the one who finally called it. “Alright, my fingers look like raisins and I’m pretty sure if I don’t eat something solid soon I’m going to start chewing on the pool noodles. Inside. Now.”
You pulled yourself up onto the edge, water streaming down your legs and bathing suit. Robin tossed you a towel. It smelled like Steve’s detergent — clean and expensive and somehow like home now. You wrapped it around yourself, goosebumps rising as the night air hit your wet skin.
Steve stood up, a little wobbly, towel slung around his neck. “Yeah… couch is calling my name. Just for a second. I’m good. I’m great. Not way drunker than I thought I was sitting down.”
Eddie climbed out after him, shaking his head like a dog and sending water flying. “Harrington, if you faceplant I’m not carrying you. You're gonna have to be an outside dog from now on.”
Steve waved him off, already heading for the sliding glass doors. “Yeah, yeah. Is the world spinning for anyone else?”
Inside, the house was dim and quiet. Steve made it three steps into the living room before the big sectional couch pulled him in like gravity. He dropped onto it with a heavy thump, one arm dangling off the edge, eyes already half-closed.
“Just… resting my eyes,” he mumbled. “You guys keep… having fun. I’ll be right…”
His eyes fluttered once. Twice.
And then he was gone — out cold, soft snores starting almost immediately, completely dead to the world.
Robin stared at him for a beat, then pressed both hands over her mouth to smother her laughter. “Oh my god. He didn’t even finish the sentence.”
Eddie leaned in the doorway in his low-slung towel, grinning wide. "Such a lightweight. Look at him. King Steve, defeated by vodka and like two joints.”
You stood there in your damp towel, water still dripping from your hair onto your shoulders, and felt that same warm, bright feeling from earlier swell in your chest. Steve, safe and passed out. Eddie watching you with that spark in his eyes. Robin already heading toward the kitchen with a mischievous little bounce in her step.
“Well,” Robin called over her shoulder, “since our fearless leader has officially tapped out… who wants to see if there’s any pasta left in the fridge? Or are we going straight for the liquor cabinet?”
Eddie looked at you, one eyebrow raised, smile slow and easy.
The three of you left Steve snoring softly on the couch and drifted into the dining room like it was the most natural thing in the world. The big wooden table still had a couple of chairs pulled out from earlier in the week when you’d all tried to eat a real meal together. Robin grabbed a fresh beer from the fridge and dropped into one of the chairs, kicking her feet up on the one next to her. You and Eddie stayed standing for a second, the wet ends of your hair still dripping onto your shoulders and the tops of your towels.
Eddie dug another joint out of the crumpled pack he’d left on the counter earlier and lit it with a flick of his lighter. The flame lit up his face for a second — sharp grin, dark eyes, water still clinging to his collarbones. He took a long pull, then passed it to you without a word. You leaned against the edge of the table and took your own hit, the smoke curling warm and familiar in your lungs. The high from the pool hadn’t fully faded yet— this one just layered on top of it, making the dim overhead light feel softer and the air between the three of you feel closer.
Robin twisted the cap off her beer and took a long drink. “God, work’s been so fucking weird lately. Jimmy's gone so it's just been me and Harrington running the show. Who decided that putting us in charge was a good idea? Dingus over there wouldn't know good music if it weren’t for us. He'd be playing ABBA all day and wonder why we'd get hate mail.”
You laughed, the sound a little looser than usual. “That sounds exactly like him. Just be glad you're not working under Keith anymore. Dude was a total fuckin' creep. Remember that time he tried to hit on Nancy and she brutally destroyed every bit of confidence he had left?”
Eddie chuckled from where he was leaning against the wall, joint between his fingers again. He wasn’t saying much — just chilling, listening, that lazy little smirk on his face like he was happy to let the two of you talk while the smoke curled around him. Every now and then he’d take a hit and pass it back to you, his fingers brushing yours for a second longer than necessary.
Robin groaned and took another sip. “And don’t even get me started on my mom. She keeps asking when I’m gonna ‘bring a nice boy around’ like I haven’t been gay as fuck my whole life. I told her I’m busy surviving the apocalypse and working, but apparently that’s not a good enough excuse.”
You took the joint from Eddie again, the paper warm against your lips. The high was settling deep now — that sweet, heavy feeling behind your eyes that made everything feel a little more honest. You exhaled slowly and looked at Robin across the table.
“Honestly? You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with any of that shit,” you said, the words slipping out before you could overthink them. “The last guy I was with was… god, he was bad. Like, aggressively bad. All confidence, zero skill. Kept asking if I was close. I had to fake it just to get him to stop. And then he had the nerve to look proud of himself after.” You shook your head, laughing a little even though it wasn’t really funny. “You’re seriously so lucky you don’t have to deal with that mess, Robin.”
Robin raised an eyebrow, but she was smiling — the kind of smile that said she knew exactly what you meant and was grateful she didn’t. “Yeah, well. That’s one bullet I’ve managed to dodge.”
You took another slow hit from the joint, then passed it back to Eddie. The question came out casual, curious, the kind of thing that only got asked when everyone was a little drunk and a little high and the house was quiet except for Steve’s distant snoring.
“Have you ever actually had sex with a guy?”
Robin made a face but didn’t look offended. She just shook her head. “Nope. Never.”
You tilted your head, genuinely curious now. “What about kissing? Have you ever kissed a guy?”
She snorted. “Yeah, duh. Had to pretend to be straight at some point, right? High school was a whole thing. There was this one guy who wouldn’t leave me alone until I let him kiss me at a party. It was… fine. Wet. Weird. I spent the whole time thinking about how I’d rather be anywhere else.” She shrugged, taking another drink. “But it got the job done. People stopped asking questions for a while.”
The room felt smaller suddenly. Warmer. Eddie was still quiet, but you could feel him listening — that sharp, attentive energy he got when something interesting was happening. He took a hit from the joint and held it, watching the two of you with dark, amused eyes.
You leaned forward a little, elbows on the table, the high making your voice come out softer and more honest than usual.
“Okay, but… if you had to have sex with a guy,” you asked, “who would it be?”
Robin didn’t even hesitate. She looked you dead in the eye, a little smirk tugging at her mouth, cheeks faintly pink from the beer and the conversation.
“Well, I only trust two guys,” she said. “And since Harrington’s passed out cold in the other room, I guess Munson would do.”
The words landed in the quiet dining room like a spark on dry wood.
Eddie let out a low, surprised laugh — not mocking, just genuinely caught off guard. Smoke curled from between his lips as he exhaled. “Wow. High praise, Buckley. I’m flattered. Truly. I’ll try not to let it go to my head.”
You felt your own pulse pick up a little, the high sharpening everything — the way Robin was looking at you both, the way Eddie’s grin had gone a shade more dangerous, the distant sound of Steve’s soft snoring from the living room like he was still somehow part of this even while he was dead asleep.
Robin just shrugged, but there was something playful and a little charged in the way she held your gaze. “I’m just saying. If the world ended tomorrow and I had to pick… at least I know he might not be a complete disaster about it.”
Eddie took another slow hit from the joint, then held it out toward her like an offering, his voice low and teasing. “Careful, Buckley. Keep talking like that and I might start thinking you actually like me.”
Robin rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she reached for the joint. “Don’t get cocky, Munson. It’s a hypothetical. And you’re the lesser of two evils right now.”
The air in the dining room had shifted — still light, still a little giggly from the drinks and the weed, but underneath it something warmer was humming. Something that felt like it could tip in any direction depending on what happened next.
Eddie’s eyes flicked to you for a second, like he was checking to see how you were taking all of this. His smile was easy, but there was a spark in it that hadn’t been there before.
The words hung in the air for half a second.
Robin’s answer — casual, a little smirk on her face, eyes flicking between you and Eddie like she was testing the temperature of the room. Steve’s soft snoring drifted in from the living room like background noise.
You looked at Robin.
She looked at you.
And there it was — that look. The one the two of you had perfected over the last year of living in this house together. The we’re about to do something really fucking stupid and we both know it look. Half challenge, half invitation. Your mouth twitched. Hers did too.
Eddie blinked between the two of you, brow furrowing. “Okay… what the hell is happening right now? Seriously. You two are doing that thing again. The creepy telepathic eye contact thing. I don’t like it when you do the creepy telepathic eye contact thing—”
Robin was already sliding out of her chair.
You met her halfway.
The second your mouths crashed together it was heavy. No hesitation. No testing the waters. Just the sudden, hungry press of her lips against yours, the sharp little inhale she took when your hands found her waist and pulled her in. She tasted like beer and the faint cherry of her lip balm and the weed you’d all been passing around. Her hands were in your damp hair immediately, tugging, angling your head so she could kiss you deeper, messier. The high made everything sharper and blurrier at the same time — the slide of her tongue against yours, the way her body pressed flush to you, the little sound she made in the back of her throat when your teeth caught her bottom lip.
You barely registered the dining room table behind you until your ass hit the edge of it. Robin followed, crowding between your legs, one hand braced on the wood beside your hip while the other slid up under the edge of your towel, palm hot against your still-damp skin.
Eddie made a noise like he’d been punched in the stomach.
“What the fuck,” he said, voice cracking in the middle. “What the hell is happening seriously. Is this— are you two— Jesus Christ, I’m right here. I’m standing right here. Harrington’s passed out in the next room and you two are just— okay. Alright. This is fine. This is totally fine. I’m not freaking out. I’m not freaking out—”
You broke the kiss just long enough to laugh against Robin’s mouth, breathless and giddy and a little wild from the high. She was laughing too, forehead pressed to yours for a second, both of you grinning like idiots who’d just decided to set something on fire for fun.
Then you turned your head, still half-tangled with her, and reached out.
Your fingers curled around Eddie’s wrist.
He looked down at your hand like it was a live wire.
“Come on,” you said, voice low and rough from the kissing and the smoke. You gave his arm a tug, already sliding off the table, Robin’s hand finding yours on the other side. “Bedroom. Now.”
Robin was still giggling as the three of you stumbled out of the dining room — her free hand grabbing the mostly-smoked joint and the lighter on the way past the table. Eddie let himself be dragged, half-protesting, half-laughing in that high-pitched, overwhelmed way he got when his brain was short-circuiting.
“I— you can’t just— what is happening right now,” he kept saying, even as he followed you down the hallway toward his room. “I was minding my own business. I was being chill. And now I’m being kidnapped by two extremely hot, extremely high girls who were just making out on Steve’s dining room table like it was a normal day—”
“Shut up, Munson,” Robin managed between laughs, shoving his bedroom door open with her shoulder. “Consider this your lucky day.”
You were both still giggling as you pulled him inside — the sound bright and stupid and full of that reckless, drunk-high energy that always seemed to hit hardest at three in the morning. Eddie’s room smelled like him— weed, old leather, that cologne he stole from Steve and never gave back. Posters on the walls, clothes on the floor, his guitar propped in the corner like it was watching.
The door clicked shut behind you.
Robin was still pressed against your side, her mouth finding the curve of your neck for a second just because she could. You were still holding Eddie’s hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles like you were grounding all three of you in the moment.
Eddie stared at the two of you, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, that wild grin starting to break through the confusion.
“Okay,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “Okay. I’m listening. I’m extremely listening. Someone please tell me what the game plan is here before I have a heart attack in my own bedroom.”
You and Robin exchanged another look.
And then you were both laughing again — soft, breathless, already moving toward him like the night had always been headed exactly here.
Robin broke first, a soft, nervous giggle escaping as she looked at you. “Okay. So. We’re really doing this.”
You felt that same reckless, high-drunk spark from the dining room table flare hotter in your chest. You stepped in close to her, one hand sliding around her waist, and spoke low enough that it felt like a secret even though Eddie was right there.
“I’m gonna teach you how to give a blowjob.”
Eddie made a strangled noise from somewhere behind you. “I— what— teach—?”
Robin’s eyes flicked to him, then back to you. She looked a little dazed, a little turned on, a little like she couldn’t believe she was nodding. But she nodded anyway.
You turned to Eddie, who was still standing there looking like his brain had melted. His cock was already straining hard against the front of his swim trunks. You exchanged a silent look of permission with him, stepped right into his space, hooked your fingers into the waistband, and tugged them down in one smooth motion.
His cock sprang free — thick, ruddy tip, already leaking. Bigger than average. Heavy.
Robin’s eyes went wide. “Jesus Christ. Are they all that size?”
You wrapped your hand around the base and gave him one slow stroke, just to watch the way his stomach jumped. Then you glanced at Robin with a crooked little smile.
“Nope. I’m just as surprised as you are.”
Eddie let out a shaky laugh that turned into a groan the second you dropped to your knees in front of him. You didn’t waste time — you leaned in and took the head of his cock into your mouth, warm and wet, tongue swirling around the sensitive underside while your hand worked what you couldn’t fit yet. The taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue, the way his hand immediately found the back of your head like he didn’t know what else to do with it — it all hit harder because of the high. Everything felt magnified.
“Fuck— fuck—” Eddie’s voice cracked. He was staring down at you like you’d just personally rewritten the laws of physics. “Okay. Okay, this is happening. This is really— Jesus, your mouth—”
Robin watched, transfixed, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her cheeks were flushed. After a minute she cleared her throat, voice a little hoarse.
“Can I… can I just start with a handjob? I don’t think I’m ready for the whole… mouth thing yet.”
You pulled off Eddie’s cock with a wet pop, lips shiny, and looked up at her. “Yeah. Come here.”
Robin knelt down beside you on the floor. She hesitated for only a second before wrapping her hand around him — tentative at first, like she was testing the heat and weight of him. Eddie made another broken sound above you both, hips twitching.
You covered her hand with yours.
“Here,” you murmured, guiding her. “Like this.”
You started slow — long, steady strokes from base to tip, your fingers curled over hers so she could feel exactly how much pressure to use. Eddie’s cock twitched hard in your combined grip, a bead of pre-cum welling at the slit. You used it to slick the way, dragging both your hands up and down in a smooth rhythm.
“See?” you said softly, close to her ear. “He seems to like it when you twist your wrist a little at the top. And you can use your other hand on his balls if you want — gentle, though.”
Eddie was losing his mind above you. One hand braced on the edge of his dresser, the other hovering like he didn’t know where to put it. His voice was wrecked.
“I— I don’t— what the fuck is my life right now— god, that feels— you two are actually going to kill me—”
Robin let out a shaky little laugh, but she didn’t let go. She was watching your hands move together over him, fascinated, biting her lip. The high made everything feel warmer, slower, more electric — the slide of skin on skin, the way Eddie’s cock pulsed between your fingers, the soft sound of his breathing breaking apart above you.
You kept guiding her, slow and patient, showing her how to stroke him just right while Eddie stood there completely at your mercy, confused and painfully, desperately horny, and very clearly not wanting any of it to stop.
The slow, guided strokes had Robin breathing a little harder. You could feel the shift in her — the way her grip got more confident under yours, the way she kept glancing at Eddie’s cock like she was daring herself.
Robin licked her lips.
Then she leaned in.
Her tongue dragged slowly up the underside of Eddie’s cock in one long, tentative stripe from base to tip. She made a soft, surprised sound at the taste and the heat of him, but she didn’t pull away. Instead she did it again, slower this time, like she was getting used to it.
You didn’t hesitate. You dipped your head right beside hers and followed.
The two of you worked him together — tongues sliding up the thick vein on the underside of his cock, getting him messy and wet. Saliva and pre-cum mixed as you licked over the same spots, sometimes your tongues brushing against each other in the process. Robin let out a shaky little laugh against his skin, and you answered it with one of your own before you both went back in, lapping at him like you were sharing something filthy and sweet at the same time.
Eddie made a sound like he’d been shot.
“F-fuck— fuck— you two— Jesus Christ—” His voice was wrecked, high and strained. One hand was white-knuckling the edge of the dresser so hard the wood creaked. The other hovered uselessly in the air like he was afraid to touch either of you in case he lost what little control he had left. His thighs were trembling. “I’m— I’m not gonna last if you keep— god, your tongues—”
You and Robin ignored the warning.
You met in the middle again, tongues curling against each other over the head of his cock before sliding back down together, coating him in shiny wetness. Then you were kissing — really kissing — right there on his dick. Mouths open, tongues sliding hot and slick against each other with the thick length of him caught between you. Every time your lips met you could taste him on her, and she could taste him on you. It was messy. It was obscene. It was so fucking hot you felt dizzy with it.
Eddie’s hips jerked forward without his permission. A broken, desperate noise tore out of his throat.
“I’m serious— I’m— fuck, I’m gonna come if you don’t stop— I’m trying— I’m trying so hard not to—” His voice cracked on a moan as your tongues met again over his slit, lapping up the fresh bead of pre-cum that had leaked out. “Please— Jesus, you’re both gonna kill me—”
Robin pulled back just enough to look up at him, lips shiny and swollen, a wicked little smile on her face even though her cheeks were flushed dark. She gave the head of his cock one more slow lick, then glanced at you like she was checking if you wanted to keep going.
Eddie looked like he was hanging on by a thread — eyes glassy, chest heaving, every muscle in his body locked tight as he fought not to come all over both your faces right then and there.
“Can I… watch you get fucked first?”
You were still on your knees, one hand loosely wrapped around the base of Eddie’s cock. You glanced up at her, a slow, wicked little smile spreading across your face.
“Only if you sit on my face.”
Robin’s eyes went wide for a second. Eddie made a noise like his brain had short-circuited again.
You didn’t wait for more discussion. You stood up, grabbed Eddie’s hand, and tugged him toward the bed with you. Robin followed, still looking a little stunned but not saying no. You crawled onto the mattress and laid back, legs spreading automatically as you looked up at both of them.
Eddie hovered at the side of the bed, swim trunks still around his thighs, cock flushed and shiny from both your mouths. He looked wrecked already — hair wild, eyes dark, chest heaving.
“Are you guys sure?” he asked, voice hoarse. “Like… we can stop at any point. This is— this is a lot. I don’t want anyone to—”
“Munson,” you cut in, staring straight at him, “if you don’t fuck me right now I’m going to be mad at you.” Your tone was light but firm. Then you turned your head toward Robin and patted the space above your face. “And Robin… come sit on my face.”
Robin hesitated. Her cheeks were flushed dark, one hand twisting in the hem of her swimsuit. She looked at Eddie, then at you, then back at Eddie like she was checking one last time that this was really okay. Eddie just gave her a helpless little shrug, like I have no idea what’s happening but I’m not stopping it.
She climbed onto the bed.
You helped guide her — hands on her hips as she swung one leg over your head and slowly lowered herself, pushing the gusset of her swimsuit to the side. The second her cunt brushed your mouth you licked up into her, slow and deliberate, and Robin made a soft, shocked sound above you, thighs trembling on either side of your head.
Eddie was still standing there like he couldn’t believe any of this was real.
You reached down between your own legs and peeled your bikini bottoms off. Y you looked at Eddie upside-down from between Robin’s thighs.
“Eddie.”
That was all it took.
He climbed onto the bed, shoved his trunks the rest of the way off, and lined himself up. The head of his cock dragged through your folds once, twice, collecting wetness, before he pushed in with one long, smooth thrust.
You moaned into Robin’s cunt.
Eddie groaned like he’d been punched. “Fuck— you’re so— god—”
He started fucking you in deep, steady strokes, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. Every time he bottomed out you cried out against Robin, the vibrations making her gasp and rock down harder onto your tongue. She was watching everything — the way Eddie’s cock disappeared into you over and over, the way your tits bounced with every thrust, the way your mouth worked between her legs.
Robin leaned forward.
Her fingers found your clit and started rubbing in tight, desperate little circles, matching the rhythm of Eddie’s thrusts. The added stimulation made your whole body jerk. You sucked harder on her clit, tongue flicking fast, and Robin’s thighs clamped around your head as she moaned.
Eddie was losing it.
He was trying so hard to hold back, but between the way you felt around him, the wet sounds of you eating Robin out, and the sight of her fingers working your clit right above where he was buried inside you — it was too much.
“Fuck— I’m— I’m close—” he gasped. “I can’t— you feel too good— Robin, if you keep— shit—”
Robin rubbed your clit faster, leaning down so she could watch Eddie’s cock splitting you open while your tongue fucked into her. The angle let her grind down harder on your face.
You came first.
It hit hard — a full-body, shaking orgasm that made your back arch off the bed and your moan get muffled against Robin’s cunt. Your walls clenched tight around Eddie’s cock, pulsing hard, and that was it for him.
Eddie came with a broken, guttural sound, hips stuttering as he buried himself as deep as he could and spilled inside you. Thick, hot pulses that you felt with every twitch of his cock. He kept fucking through it in short, desperate thrusts, like he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.
Robin followed right after — thighs shaking around your head as she came on your tongue with a soft, surprised cry, her fingers still moving on your oversensitive clit until the overstimulation made you whimper.
For a few long seconds the only sounds in the room were heavy breathing, the wet slide of Eddie slowly pulling out of you, and Robin’s shaky little laughs as she carefully climbed off your face.
Eddie collapsed onto the bed beside you, one arm thrown over his eyes, chest heaving.
“Holy shit,” he muttered, voice completely wrecked. “What the fuck just happened.”
Robin was still catching her breath, looking down at both of you with wide, dazed eyes and a stunned little smile.
You just lay there between them, flushed and satisfied and still buzzing from the high.
The three of you were still catching your breath, bodies loose and warm on Eddie’s bed. Robin was the first to move, pushing herself up onto her elbows. Her hair was a mess, lips still shiny from where you’d had your mouth on her. She looked down at Eddie, who was flat on his back with one arm thrown over his eyes, his cock soft and half-hard against his stomach, shiny with a mix of your wetness and his own cum.
“So like—” Robin started, voice a little hoarse, “when your dick works again… can I try?”
Eddie dropped his arm and turned his head to stare at her like she’d grown a second head.
“When my— what the hell are you talking about, Buckley?”
Robin sat up a little more, tilting her head as she studied him with open curiosity. “Y’know… like when it gets all hard again like before. I wanna try. For real this time.”
You snorted, still lying between them, one hand resting on your own stomach. “I know a way we can get him hard again.”
Eddie lifted his head, eyes wide. “Hello? I’m— I’m right here, you menaces!”
You and Robin glanced at each other.
“Should we?” you asked, already smiling.
Robin hummed, pretending to think about it. “Hmm. Think we should.”
Before Eddie could get another word out, you rolled toward Robin and kissed her.
It started slow — lazy, post-orgasm kisses, your mouths moving together soft and wet. But it didn’t stay soft for long. Robin made a quiet sound and leaned in harder, one hand coming up to cup your jaw as her tongue slid against yours. The kiss got deeper, messier, the two of you making out right there on the bed like Eddie wasn’t even there.
Eddie made a wounded noise from beside you.
“This isn’t fair,” he complained, voice rough. “I want a kiss. I’m the one who just— I participated! I did labor! I deserve— hey— hey—”
You broke away from Robin with a grin and turned to him instead.
The second your mouth met his, Eddie melted. He kissed you back desperately, one hand sliding into your hair as he licked into your mouth like he’d been starving for it. You could feel him starting to twitch against your thigh already.
Robin watched for a second, then leaned in and nudged you aside so she could kiss him next. Eddie made another broken sound as she kissed him — slower at first, exploratory, then deeper once she got the hang of it. His cock gave a visible twitch against his stomach, starting to fill out properly.
You took your turn again, kissing him slow and filthy while your hand drifted down to wrap loosely around the base of his cock, giving him one lazy stroke. He was getting harder by the second.
“Fuck— you two are evil,” he muttered when you finally let him breathe. His voice was already wrecked again. “I was trying to be good and recover and now I’m— god— I’m hard again. This is your fault. Both of you.”
Robin glanced down at his cock, now fully hard and flushed in your hand, and bit her lip.
She looked back up at you, eyes bright and a little nervous but determined.
“So… can I try now?”
Eddie sat up a little, running a hand through his messy hair. His cock was fully hard again, resting against his stomach as he looked at Robin with that same soft, slightly overwhelmed expression he’d had since the dining room.
“Hey,” he said, voice gentle even though he was still catching his breath from the kissing. “I’m serious. You can stop at any point. Like… any point. You say the word and we’re done, no questions asked.”
Robin rolled her eyes so hard it was almost impressive.
“I know, Jesus Christ,” she muttered. “You’ve said it like six times already. I’m not gonna shatter.”
Eddie held his hands up in surrender, but he was still watching her carefully. “Okay. Okay. Just… making sure.” He hesitated, then asked, “Do you want to do it missionary? Or, like… any position you’re comfortable with.”
Robin made a face like he’d suggested they do it in the middle of the grocery store.
“Fuck no,” she said immediately. “I’m too shy to even talk at you right now, let alone look at you while you’re fucking me.”
Eddie blinked, then let out a short, surprised laugh. “Reverse cowgirl it is, then.”
You helped shift things around on the bed, moving pillows and making space. Robin climbed over Eddie’s lap, facing away from him — toward you instead. Her hands braced on your thighs for balance as she hovered over him. Eddie wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, the other resting lightly on her hip as he lined himself up.
Robin took a shaky breath, then slowly started to sink down.
The second he bottomed out inside her, her eyes went wide. A sharp, punched-out sound left her throat. She froze there for a second, adjusting to the stretch, fingers digging into your legs.
Eddie’s hands tightened on her hips. “You okay?” he asked immediately, voice low and careful. “Robin? You good?”
She didn’t answer right away, just breathed through it.
“Robin?” he tried again, a little more worried. “Hey, talk to me. You okay?”
Robin finally turned her head just enough to glare at him over her shoulder.
“Shut the fuck up, Munson,” she gritted out. “I can feel you in my throat.”
Eddie let out a startled laugh, the sound bright and relieved all at once. “Jesus. Okay. Noted.” He gave her hips a gentle squeeze. “Just checking. You’re calling the shots here.”
Robin took another slow breath, then rolled her hips experimentally. A tiny, involuntary sound escaped her when she felt how deep he was. She glanced at you, something between overwhelmed and determined in her expression, like she was still processing the feeling of being this full.
Eddie was still grinning, even as he stayed perfectly still beneath her.
“Guess I’m just a human dildo tonight,” he joked, voice warm and teasing. “At your service.”
Robin let out a shaky little laugh despite herself, still adjusting, still getting used to the stretch of him inside her. She hadn’t started moving properly yet — just sitting there, breathing, getting her bearings while Eddie waited patiently underneath her and you stayed close in front of her.
You could feel the tension in Robin’s body — the way her thighs were trembling slightly where they bracketed Eddie’s hips, the way her breathing was still a little too careful. So you leaned in and kissed her again, slow and grounding, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck. She melted into it almost immediately, some of the rigidness easing out of her shoulders as she kissed you back.
When you pulled away, she turned her head just enough and said, voice a little rough, “Eddie… start moving.”
Eddie didn’t need to be told twice.
He started slow, rolling his hips up into her in careful, shallow thrusts. Robin’s breath hitched, her hands tightening on your thighs as she adjusted to the feeling of him moving inside her. You stayed close, one hand sliding down between her legs to rub her clit in slow, steady circles with your thumb — matching the rhythm Eddie was setting.
Robin let out a shaky moan against your mouth when you kissed her again.
You didn’t stay up there long.
You broke the kiss and lowered yourself further, settling between Eddie’s spread thighs. From this angle you had a perfect view of where they were joined — his cock glistening as it slid in and out of her. You leaned in and dragged your tongue slowly over Robin’s clit first, then lower, licking along the base of Eddie’s cock and his balls on the next pass.
Robin clenched hard around him the second your tongue touched her.
“Fuck—” she gasped, hips jerking.
Eddie groaned, his hands gripping her waist tighter. “Jesus Christ, what did you just do to her?”
Robin let out a breathless, slightly unhinged laugh even as she rolled her hips down to meet Eddie’s next thrust. “She’s— fuck— she’s licking both of us. I can feel her tongue on your— god.”
Eddie let out a shaky laugh of his own, still fucking up into her in those deep, steady strokes. “You're so fucking tight Buckley. Pretty sure I'm going to fall in love with one of you after this.”
Robin reached down blindly and grabbed a handful of your hair, not pushing or pulling, just holding on as you kept licking — slow, deliberate strokes over her clit and the parts of Eddie’s cock that weren’t buried inside her.
“Shut up,” she managed, voice breaking on a moan when you sucked gently on her clit. “You’re— it feels like you're fucking me with your arm. H- How the hell do you walk around all day with— fuck— with that in your pants? Where the hell— Jesus Christ— do- do you put it?”
Eddie grinned, even as his breathing got rougher. “Y'know Buckley. That might be the nicest thing you ever said to me.”
Robin let out another shaky laugh that turned into a moan when you licked a particularly sensitive spot. “I hate you. I hate both of you. This is— fuck— this is your fault.”
“Pretty sure it’s your fault for asking if you could try,” Eddie shot back, voice strained but still teasing as he fucked her a little harder. “I was being a gentleman. You’re the one who decided to use me as a human dildo for kicks.”
Robin’s only response was a broken moan and another tight clench around him as your tongue worked between them.
Eddie groaned, head dropping back against the pillows for a second. “Yeah. Okay. Keep doing that. Both of you. I’m not complaining.”
Robin was breathing hard now, caught between Eddie’s cock and your mouth, her body starting to move more instinctively with every thrust. She was still holding onto your hair like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
The room was filled with the wet sounds of sex, Eddie’s low groans, and Robin’s increasingly desperate little noises every time your tongue dragged over her clit or Eddie hit a spot that made her clench.
Robin was getting close — you could feel it in the way her thighs were starting to shake on either side of Eddie’s hips, the way her breathing had gone ragged and uneven. You kept your mouth on her, tongue working her clit in tight, focused strokes.
Eddie was clearly struggling. His grip on Robin’s hips had gone tight, and his thrusts were getting a little less controlled, a little more desperate.
Robin must have felt it too.
She turned her head just enough to glare at him over her shoulder, voice breathless but sharp.
“If you cum anywhere near me, Munson, I’m going to murder you. I’m serious. I will actually kill you.”
Eddie let out a strained, half-laugh, half-groan. “Noted. Loud and clear. No coming near the lesbian. Got it.”
You pulled your mouth off Robin’s clit just long enough to speak, voice low and a little hoarse from how long you’d had your face buried between them.
“I’ll take it,” you said, looking up at both of them. “Cum on me. Face, tits, wherever. I don’t care.”
Eddie made a broken sound at that, hips stuttering for a second before he forced himself back into rhythm.
You went right back to work on Robin — two fingers rubbing tight and fast right where she needed it. Eddie kept fucking her through it, deep and steady, even as he fought to hold himself back.
Robin’s whole body went tight.
“Fuck— fuck— I’m—” Her voice cracked as she came, clenching hard around Eddie’s cock in rhythmic pulses. Her thighs shook on either side of your head and she grabbed at your hair again, holding on as the orgasm rolled through her. A broken, gasping moan tore out of her throat as she rode it out on Eddie’s cock.
The second she started to come down, Eddie carefully lifted her off him with shaking hands. His cock slipped free, shiny and flushed dark, and he barely had time to stroke himself once before he was coming from between her legs.
Thick ropes painted across your face and chest — hot and messy, landing on your lips, your cheek, and streaking down over your tits. Eddie groaned loud and broken as he came, hips jerking with every pulse, one hand braced on Robin’s thigh while the other worked himself through it.
Robin was still catching her breath above you, looking down with wide, slightly dazed eyes as she watched Eddie finish all over you. She let out a soft, breathless little laugh.
“Holy shit.”
Eddie was still breathing hard, staring down at the mess he’d made on your skin like he couldn’t quite believe any of this had actually happened. His cock gave one last weak twitch in his hand before he let go, slumping back against the pillows.
Robin carefully climbed off him and flopped down beside you on the bed, still flushed and breathing heavy. She looked at the cum on your face and chest, then at Eddie, then back at you.
“…Okay,” she said, voice a little shaky but amused. “That was… a lot.”
Eddie let out a weak, exhausted laugh from where he was sprawled out, one arm thrown over his eyes.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah, it really fucking was.”
The three of you were sprawled across Eddie’s bed in a messy, sweaty pile. Robin was on her back beside you, one arm thrown over her eyes, still breathing hard. Eddie was half-sitting up against the headboard, looking thoroughly fucked-out and a little stunned. You were in the middle, cum cooling on your face and chest, the high still humming pleasantly under your skin.
Robin was the first one to break the silence.
“Wait—” she said, turning her head toward you and Eddie with genuine curiosity. “Is this what Steve’s is like? Has anyone here seen Harrington’s dick? Like… for science?”
Eddie let out a weak, disbelieving laugh, running a hand down his face.
“….Yeah, I don’t think you’re gonna be a lesbian anymore after this.”
Robin snorted, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him. “Nah. Still a lesbian. Have you seen how nice her tits are?” She gestured vaguely at your chest with one hand. “And she doesn’t have a dick that split me in half.”
Eddie clutched his chest dramatically, even as he was clearly fighting a grin. “Glad to know that I’m just an afterthought?”
You turned your head to look at him, still a little breathless, a lazy smile tugging at your mouth.
“If it makes you feel better… I’d have sex with you again.”
Eddie’s head snapped toward you so fast it was almost comical. His eyes lit up, that familiar cocky little smirk sliding back onto his face despite how wrecked he looked.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawled, voice low and teasing, “Is that an invitation?”
You let out a soft laugh, reaching over to wipe a bit of cum off your bottom lip with your thumb.
“It’s more of a standing reservation.”
Robin groaned and flopped back down, covering her face with both hands even as her shoulders shook with laughter.
“Oh my god. You two are actually disgusting. I can’t believe I let either of you near me.”
Eddie was still grinning at you, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who’d just been used as a human dildo and then immediately discarded in the rankings. He reached over and lazily dragged two fingers through the mess on your chest, smearing it a little before bringing his fingers to his own mouth and licking them clean with zero shame.
“Standing reservation,” he repeated, like he was tasting the words. “I like the sound of that.”
Robin peeked at him through her fingers. “You’re not allowed to do that Munson. It’s rude.”
“Rude is my brand, Buckley,” Eddie shot back, but his voice had gone softer, warmer. He glanced between the two of you, something fond and a little overwhelmed flickering across his face. “You two are gonna be the death of me. I hope you know that.”
You smiled, still loose and satisfied, and reached over to rest your hand on Robin’s thigh while your other hand found Eddie’s.
“Worth it though,” you murmured.
Robin didn’t answer right away. She just let out a long, dramatic sigh and turned her head to look at you, then at Eddie, then back at you again.
“…Yeah,” she admitted quietly, a small, crooked smile tugging at her mouth. “Yeah, it kinda was.”
The first time Eddie met you, he accidentally locked himself out of his apartment.
It was raining.
He was barefoot.
He had taken exactly three steps into the hallway before his apartment door clicked shut behind him.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He stared at the doorknob.
Then at the tiny grocery bag still sitting safely inside his apartment.
His keys.
His wallet.
His phone.
His dignity.
All trapped behind the door.
Fantastic.
He sighed dramatically and leaned his forehead against the wood.
“This is how I die.”
A soft laugh echoed down the hallway.
He turned.
The door across from his apartment had opened just enough for someone to peek out.
You stood there wearing fuzzy socks, an oversized sweatshirt, and holding a mug decorated with tiny flowers.
“You okay?”
Eddie pointed dramatically at his apartment.
“My own home has betrayed me.”
You looked from him…
To his bare feet…
Back to his apartment.
“…Did you lock yourself out?”
“I prefer to call it an unexpected outdoor adventure.”
“In the hallway?”
“In the hallway.”
You smiled despite yourself.
“Do you need to borrow a phone?”
“My phone is also being held hostage.”
You nodded thoughtfully.
“…Well.”
You opened your door a little wider.
“You can come inside while maintenance gets here.”
He blinked.
“You sure?”
“You look cold.”
“I am cold.”
“And you look like you need coffee.”
“I always need coffee.”
You smiled.
“Then come on.”
Your apartment smelled like cinnamon and vanilla.
Books filled nearly every shelf.
Plants sat on the windowsills.
Soft jazz played quietly from a record player in the corner.
Eddie looked around in amazement.
“It smells like a bakery in here.”
“I was making banana bread.”
“You bake?”
“I stress bake.”
“…How stressed are you?”
You looked toward the kitchen.
“I’ve made three loaves.”
He nodded solemnly.
“…That’s concerning.”
By the time maintenance finally unlocked Eddie’s apartment an hour later…
The two of you had somehow talked about everything.
Favorite music.
Terrible landlords.
Movies.
Books.
Why socks mysteriously disappeared in dryers.
When the maintenance worker finally announced the door was open…
Eddie looked genuinely disappointed.
“Oh.”
You laughed.
“I guess you have to go home now.”
“I guess.”
He hesitated.
Then scratched the back of his neck.
“…Can I borrow your banana bread recipe?”
You smiled knowingly.
“You don’t bake.”
“No.”
“So why do you want the recipe?”
“…Reasons.”
You laughed.
“I’ll write it down.”
The next afternoon…
Someone knocked on your door.
You opened it to find Eddie standing there holding a tiny potted sunflower.
“I come bearing gifts.”
You smiled.
“What’s this for?”
“You rescued me.”
“I let you drink coffee.”
“Exactly.”
“I think that deserves flowers.”
You looked down at the little sunflower.
“It’s adorable.”
“I thought so.”
“I’ve actually never had someone bring me flowers before.”
His smile softened.
“Really?”
You nodded.
“Well…”
He shrugged shyly.
“…I figured someone should.”
From then on…
You started running into each other almost every day.
Sometimes intentionally.
Sometimes not.
He’d knock on your door asking if you wanted takeout.
You’d leave fresh cookies outside his apartment after long workdays.
He watered your plants whenever you traveled.
You signed for his packages.
Somehow, somewhere between shared dinners and hallway conversations…
The apartment building stopped feeling like just a building.
It started feeling like home.
Because you were in it.
One Saturday afternoon, Eddie convinced you to help him build a bookshelf he’d bought online.
“It says easy assembly.”
You looked at the instruction booklet.
“There are forty-two steps.”
“…That still sounds easy.”
Three hours later…
The bookshelf leaned noticeably to the left.
You stared at it.
“It looks… artistic.”
“It looks haunted.”
“I think one shelf is upside down.”
“I think all the shelves are upside down.”
You both burst into laughter.
Eventually laughing so hard neither of you could stand.
At some point…
You ended up sitting on the floor beside each other.
Still laughing.
Still trying to catch your breath.
Eddie looked over at you.
“You have a really nice laugh.”
You smiled.
“You’ve said that before.”
“I know.”
“I meant it then too.”
As summer turned into autumn, the little routines between you became second nature.
On Fridays, the two of you wandered the local farmers’ market together, arguing over which apples made the best pie. Eddie insisted that every pie tasted the same once enough cinnamon was added. You insisted he had no taste buds.
On rainy evenings, he would appear at your door carrying a stack of DVDs.
“Movie night?”
“You picked horror again, didn’t you?”
“…Maybe.”
“You know I scream at everything.”
“I know.”
“So why do you keep picking scary movies?”
He smiled mischievously.
“Because every time you get scared, you steal my blanket.”
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do.”
“I borrow your blanket.”
“For two hours.”
“It’s cold.”
“It’s ninety degrees outside.”
One evening, the power went out during a thunderstorm.
The hallway was dark except for the glow of emergency lights.
A gentle knock sounded on your door.
When you opened it, Eddie stood there holding two flashlights and a bag of marshmallows.
“I have an idea.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Only a little.”
Twenty minutes later, the two of you were sitting on the floor of his apartment, making s’mores over the flame of his gas stove.
“This is probably not how people usually handle power outages,” you said.
“We’re making memories.”
“We’re definitely making something.”
He grinned.
“You know…”
“What?”
“I used to hate storms.”
You looked at him.
“Used to?”
“They were always… lonely.”
He looked at the flickering flashlight resting between you.
“They’re not anymore.”
Your heart squeezed.
Weeks later, after helping him decorate his apartment for the holidays with far too many strings of lights, you found yourselves standing in the hallway between your two doors.
Neither of you seemed ready to say goodnight.
“So…”
“So?”
“You’ve been my neighbor for almost a year.”
“I have.”
“You’ve stolen approximately twenty-seven of my hoodies.”
“They’re comfortable.”
“You’ve also borrowed my records.”
“I always return them.”
“Eventually.”
You laughed.
He looked at you with that soft expression you’d come to recognize.
The one that only appeared when it was just the two of you.
“I think somewhere between the banana bread and the crooked bookshelf…”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“…I fell in love with you.”
You smiled before he had even finished speaking.
“I was wondering when you were going to tell me.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“You knew?”
“You brought me a sunflower after knowing me for one day.”
“…Fair.”
“You learned my coffee order.”
“I did.”
“You text me good morning every day.”
“I do.”
“And every Friday you leave a little doodle on my grocery list.”
He laughed.
“I forgot about those.”
“I didn’t.”
You stepped closer until only inches separated you.
“I fell in love with you too.”
For a moment, Eddie simply stared, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard.
Then he smiled—the biggest, brightest smile you’d ever seen on him.
“Can I kiss you?”
“You’ve waited long enough.”
His hand gently found yours before he leaned in.
The kiss was slow and warm, tasting faintly of hot chocolate from the mugs you’d shared earlier.
When you pulled apart, both of you were smiling so hard it almost hurt.
“So…” Eddie said.
“So?”
“I guess Apartment 3B worked out pretty well.”
You laughed.
“I think it did.”
Outside, snow had begun to fall quietly over the city.
Inside, the hallway that had once been the place where Eddie locked himself out of his apartment had become the place where he finally found the person who made every day feel like home.
Summary: Your car breaks down and your left with no other choice than to ask Eddie for a ride home, but he has other plans.
Content warnings: Smoking, car trouble, a bit of angst, past fallout, crying, hurt/comfort, happy ending
Wc: 1.1k
Author's Note: School kicked my ass for the last 5 months but i'm back. this is my first time writing in awhile so please give grace, i hope you enjoy <3
The large school doors leading out to the parking lot slam shut behind you. Practice had just let out for the evening, and somehow you managed to be the last one out of the building once again. Gravel crunches beneath your feet, skirt swaying with each tilt of your hips. Eddie Munson’s van is parked across the lot and your eyes linger, admiring the scratches on the side – or truthfully – him.
Your attention snaps back forward after his head turns, eyes meeting yours. You pick up the pace and swiftly hop in your car, throwing everything in the back seat. Your hands shake as the key connects to the ignition switch, but the car doesn’t start. You pull the keys out and huff in frustration. Slamming them back in again the car jingle comes on, but it still doesn’t start.
Eddie, on the other side of the lot, has now been watching you for a lot longer than socially acceptable. His fingers tap rhythmically on the driver’s wheel, deciding what to do next. But he knows the only thing he can do is sit in this van and pretend he’s not watching you. The glare of your windshield blocks most of your face, but he can still make out the silhouette he once knew.
You haven’t talked to him in almost 3 years. He knew it’d be a miracle if you even acknowledged his existence now. Butterflies fill his stomach at the thought, but he kills them immediately by taking a drag from the cigarette. It’s the third one he’s smoked within the last 30 minutes as he’s waited for you to leave the building. His eyes shut and smoke settles in his lungs until a familiar voice haunts his mind.
“You know you shouldn’t smoke Eds. It’s bad for you, or something.”
His eyes flutter open, looking back at you and then the cigarette in front of him.
Your fingers meet his, grabbing the cigarette, just to bring it to your own lips.
He chuckles at the memory before taking another drag, eyes closing again.
The sunlight highlights the smoke around you, creating an aura. Words leave your lips, nearly incoherent, “...are you gonna keep looking at me like that? Or can you just kiss me already?”
He coughs violently, snapping back to reality. His head falls back meeting the seat, chest heavy. A shadow crosses his vision and the sound of feet underneath gravels becomes louder. Before he can turn his head your voice pips up a soft but awkward ‘hey.’
Silence crosses between you two. You bite your lip, foot kicking the gravel side to side.
“Um,” you sigh. “My car won’t start and I uh-” you accidentally swallow your words.
His eyes flicker between yours, voice coming out hoarse and shaky. “Oh, damn. D-do you need a- a ride home? Or I- I mean, uh, I can give you some quarters for the phone-”
“Can I get a ride home, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to-”
“No no. Hop in,” he grins, head motioning to the passenger seat.
You smile softly and walk around, grabbing the door as he pops it open from the inside. The fabric of the seats and the smell brings back more memories than you realized you’d forgotten. You inhale deeply and shift to buckle.
His eyes observe you, “It’s broken,” His eyes flicker, “remember?”
You go to speak but nothing comes out. You can only nod, lips pursing.
The gears click next to you as he puts the car into drive and pulls away. He glances over every once in a while, but you don’t move. Soon enough, the town turns into fields and the cassette whirs an all too familiar song. You can’t help but hum along and glance over, only to catch a smile peeking through his lips.
A chuckle escapes your lips before turning to face him, feet coming up to rest on the seat. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Just nice how some things never change.” He admits.
You hum a confused noise, eyebrows furrowing.
“You humming this song, it’s like-” He cuts himself off, smile slowly dropping.
“It’s like what E-” Your lips stop before your brain registers that you can’t even say his name anymore. Chest falling short of breath, you stare back out the window.
“Nothing.” His voice quivers.
The car grows painfully quiet, thoughts racing through both of your minds. As you approach the turn for your house, he doesn’t bother to slow, or stop at the stop sign, or actually turn.
“Where are you-”
“You- you can’t even say my name anymore.” He croaks.
His hands fidget around the wheel as if he can’t figure out where to put them. And you find yourself at a loss for words, mouth drier than a desert. The pit in your stomach grows and you wish it would just swallow you whole at this moment.
You’re not even sure how many songs have played before gravel hits the tires outside as he turns off the road. The path feels all too familiar, trees swaying in the distance, sun beaming through them and highlighting the path. As soon as he came to a stop you leaped out the van, walking as far as possible, as fast as possible. You know these woods like the back of your hand, you introduced them to him. He shouts your name relentlessly but they hit you like daggers in your back. The creek runs in the distance and birds warn each other of your arrival. Before you know it, the walk has turned into a run and you find yourself in front of a picnic bench. It's grown a lot of moss over the last 3 years. The metal now red and worn, but untouched on the side lie your initials beside E.M..
Heavy breathing grows behind you and he stops calling your name. He follows your gaze to see what you're looking at, his hands run through his hair as it clicks that you found the initials. You turn fast but he stands more still than a statue.
“Eddie?” Your lip trembles.
His breathing resumes but it’s ragged.
“Eds.” You sigh, a tear falling down your cheek. You reach out to him but he steps back.
His body shakes, “Don’t.” He closes his eyes as another tear streams down your cheek. “Not unless you mean it. I-I can’t take-”
A sob falls from your lips and you wrap your arms around him. His arms wrap around you and tighten as much as possible. You can hear his heart pounding and the smell of cigarettes lingering on his shirt– the familiarity ignites a fire inside of you. Your tears fade slowly as he caresses your hair, raking through it with his fingers.
“I told you, you need to stop smoking.” You murmur and a giggle escapes the two of you.
“I missed you so much.” He whispers into your hair. The wind flows around you, like a breath of fresh air.
Description: You and a handsome stranger take on a life of crime together.
Author's Note: Please do research on Bonnie and Clyde, I do not support those individuals. The title is strictly for my work.
1992
The smoke infested nightclub never has too much of anything going on. You're used to the smell of men who've had far too much to drink, and the fights that break out between them.
You don't ever understand why you come to this place, but it's a lot better than being in your shitty matchbox of an apartment.
After downing the last of your beverage, you set your glass down with a light thud before tipping your bartender and grabbing your night coat.
When you're just about to head out, you hear the bouncer being paranoid, as usual. He's in a small dilemma with some tall guy with curly hair. He looks young, but definitely old enough to be here. You walk up to the door next to Rodney.
"There's no way you're old enough to get in." Rodney tells him, crossing his arms to appear more brute than he already does.
"I showed you my ID. What more could I show you?"
"Rodney." You start. He's familiar with you, so his defenses deflate. "He's my date."
You've never seen the guy in your life, but you're familiar with Rodney's terror on baby faces.
"He is?" Rodney asks.
"You're holding up the line, and my fun time." You lie, feigning an easygoing demeanor.
Rodney looks at you then him, then huffs in defeat.
"Alright. Come in, kid."
He gives the guy a light shove, and the stranger follows you far enough to where you're both from Rodney's field of hearing.
"Thanks for that, by the way. He always like that?"
"He terrorized me when I first got here. Just trying not to lose his job, I guess."
He doesn't say anything else at first, maybe out of awkwardness.
"... I'm Eddie."
"Hm. That short for something?"
"It's kind of embarrassing."
You chuckle. "Just teasing." You tell him your name, handing him a cigarette. He pulls out a lighter, igniting both of your cigs' before you lean against the wall. You look him down, then up. "You're quite a looker. You from around here?"
"Yeah, actually. Just don't usually come here." He answers, taking a drag.
"What's up with the change?"
"...It's my birthday."
"Well, well, well. Happy birthday, handsome. How old you turning?"
He chuckles. "You're too much. I'm 26."
"Can I buy you a drink? I was just about to leave but I'll do anything to avoid going home."
"I couldn't ask that of you." He smirks.
"Well, I'm not asking now. I'm telling you."
You playfully grab him by his arm. "Come on."
You take him to the bar. "Derek, get this young man a complimentary birthday drink of his choice."
"Sure. What can I get you, young man?"
"I think I'll take a beer."
"Coming right up."
You scrunch your face in disgust. "Beer?"
"What's wrong with beer?" Eddie asks.
"What's not wrong with beer?"
He grins, snuffing out his cig in an ashtray. "It's my birthday."
You do the same with your cig. "Yeah, and you still chose to order fucking beer." You chuckle.
"Sorry. I'll order one of those pink margaritas next time."
"Anything would've been better than that yeasty bullshit."
"... I've had a pink margarita before."
Your brows furrow with surprise.
"It was good!" He says mock-defensively.
His beer is placed down in front of him, and he thanks Derek before chugging it at an alarming, yet impressive pace as his Adam's apple bobs in his slender throat. He sets down the glass and wipes his mouth.
"Okay. From one alcoholic to another, this is more than just your birthday. That was 'I have some bullshit on my mind' kind of drinking."
"No, I'm okay. Just an alcoholic." He jokes.
"Right. And I'm Farah Fawcett."
"She might have some competition around you."
"You're a flatterer. You must be some kind of trouble."
"You're the one who eyed me first."
"...You're quick with your tongue. I like that."
The staring that ensues between you two cuts out all the noise around you.
"...I am in trouble, actually."
"Yeah? With what?"
"My life. I'm sick of..."
"Getting by?"
"Never not worried about anything."
"Working shitty jobs that don't care whether you live or suffer, just want you to come in looking untouched the next morning."
Eddie huffs. "Tell me about it."
"I've been dying to escape the bullshit of normalcy."
"It's a shit show, that's for certain."
You look at each other and something just clicks. Whatever mischief he wants to be up to, you've added fuel to that fire.
Eddie gave you the address you needed, now you just have to do the hard part yourself. For obvious reasons, he couldn't come. But he'll be on the other side of town finding more places that you two can hit together.
Just as he told you yesterday, you brought your unopened 'Avon products'. You're dressed obnoxiously fancy for a casual day to your tastes, and you hope it pays off.
You ring the doorbell, waiting for someone to come to the door.
Someone who you guess is Mr. Carver comes to the door.
"Hello, I'm Cynthia with Avon Cosmetics." You lie. "I would like to show you my catalog today."
"I'm not very interested." He deadpans, beginning to close the door.
"Please, sir. If I could just have a moment of your time?"
Be a bit pushy, overbearing.
He looks at you before sighing like he doesn't have a choice. "I have 20 minutes." He steps aside.
"Thank you, sir." You look at the woman sitting in a chair and feeding her newspaper. "You must be Mrs. Carver." You say. Would you like to see what I have for sale today?"
She places her newspaper down. "Well of course. Why did you try to shoo her away?" She asks her husband with a scolding look that says 'you'll be hearing about this later'.
You set the box with fresh products down, taking out the first one. All of them are blank.
"These are tester products that we want others to try out just before we send them the real thing, if they so desire it. This here is a rose peony lotion." You hand it to her, and she takes it. She squeezes a bit on her hand, sniffing it gently.
"This smells wonderful. Don't you think so, hon?"
"I bet it's lovely." Her husband says, though he doesn't really seem in the mood to have a visitor over.
"I also have this lemon blueberry body oil that is to be used preferably after a shower."
She seems pleased with that one, too.
"My heavens. How much do these go for?"
"Well, ma'am. Due to their multiple uses, they go for $40 each."
"That's very cheap. How can I put in my order?"
"Well, you're the only customer who's given me time today. I think it is in my gratitude that you keep the testers. No one else has used them, and these other ones are going to be returned to my employers. It's a slow day for me today."
"Well, I can't let you go without you making your first sales. I'll grab my purse."
She leaves to her room, and you redirect your attention to her husband.
"If you don't mind me saying, sir. I need to use the restroom. I'm having some...lady troubles."
He squirms with uncomfortability. "Alright. It's down the hall, to the left. And don't touch anything."
You hurry and head to the bathroom, trying to calm yourself down. You can only hope you'll be able to bring back some decent money to Eddie.
You poke and prod around the bathroom for anything valuable, but you come up short. There's nothing you can take without it being noticed. You decide to just act like you've used the restroom, and you go to wash your hands.
You look on the sink, and you finally realize what's been left there. Two golden earrings that someone must've left and forgotten about. You dry your hands, and pick them up to place them into your bra before exiting the bathroom.
"Here's your $80 and a $20 tip." She smiles.
"Thank you very much." You smile, handing her the products.
When you're finally out of there, you feel like you can breathe.
By the time Eddie gets there, you're still mindlessly twirling the earrings around in your fingers. You left the door unlocked for him like you usually do when you both agree to meet up.
"Hey." He says, closing the door behind him. "Wow. Those look..."
"Bullshit proof?" You hand him one.
"How much you think the pawn shop would give us?"
"It has to be a lot if it's real."
"We can see tomorrow. You did good." He says.
"I felt myself panicking every second I was in there." You chuckle. Her husband looked like he hated me."
"At least his instincts are right. You're trouble."
Eddie pulls up to "Reefer Rick's", turning off the engine.
"You look pretty. Are you ready?"
"As ready as I can be."
Eddie holds the door open to the small shack for you, following after you.
You're met with who you assume is Rick, and of course, Eddie's father. The resemblance is that of a splitting image.
"Alright, you filthy dogs." Eddie jokes. "This is her."
Rick gives you a polite nod, and Eddie's dad does the same.
"I'm Al, this is Rick. We already know who you are."
"Nice to meet you both."
"She your girlfriend, Junior?" Rick asks.
"We're just partners, and don't call me-" Eddie's face is red from being flustered.
"Come on, have a seat." Alan gestures. "You want a smoke?"
"Not at the moment, thank you."
Eddie takes a seat next to you.
"So, I'm guessing Eddie told you about our job?"
"Yes. Not much, of course."
"How come?"
"Your son's a good boy. Keeps me out of trouble."
"Would you stop that?" Eddie whines, covering his face in embarrassment.
Alan seems to pick up on the energy between you and Eddie and chuckles.
"Excuse my son. He's always been kind of airheaded around the girls. You should've seen when he was just a couple inches past my knee."
"Dad-" Eddie scolds, looking like his world is ending.
"I wouldn't have guessed. He handles himself well."
"Now that you're done matchmaking, can we just talk about the job, please?" Eddie begs.
Alan chuckles.
"Alright. Rick and I got a supply of a little bit of everything. It ain't just about selling, it's about sniffing out for feds. If someone asks for more than a quick fix, you better be skeptical of 'em. Cops will ask for a bunch for evidence."
Alan places a tin box on the table. "This is for you and Eds. Rick and I have got our own thing going."
Eddie takes the box, looking through it first. Your guess is that he doesn't exactly trust his father, or he's just curious about the inventory.
You peek into the box, and there's a bit of everything.
"Okay." Eddie says. "There's some spots in town that I know would go for shit like this. Thanks, Dad."
"Mhm. You take care of yourself and your friend." Al snuffs his cig, giving you a grin before you leave with Eddie.
"We selling today?" You ask.
"I'll return when my father isn't there and ask if I can sell through Rick's place. Whatever they're there for, I don't want any part of it. Because of just my dad, though. Rick's cool."
Eddie shuffles through the tin, looking at the inventory as it's seated on your dining table.
"I can't believe people actually use this shit." You say, eyeing the special K that Eddie is inspecting.
"I think the most I'll ever do is weed." Eddie chuckles, writing something down on a piece of paper.
"You counting?"
"Dad promised me 26 things to sell for now. Just wanna make sure that fucker doesn't cross me over."
"I'm guessing he's done this before?"
Eddie goes quiet. He taps the pencil against the paper before setting it down.
"Had a real stick up once. He screwed over these guys, and I had no idea until I was in the crossfire. They set my house on fire and I lost everything priceless. Things my mother had before she passed. Because of my dad and I, a cop got shot. I stayed behind to help. But my dad? Oh, you're gonna love this one. He left me behind to get out of the fire. I was in jail."
"How'd you get out?" You tilt your head.
"Had a girlfriend. Paige. She bailed me out the night we broke up. We had a fight, too. By the time I called her to make things right, she stopped picking up. Safe to say that chapter of my life is closed."
"What about school?"
"After failing a couple of times, I finally graduated. Snatched my diploma from my principal and flicked him off right in front of the whole class of '86."
You laugh. "I would've liked to see that."
"I bet you would. You're a troublemaker."
"You found me first." You joke.
"Details, details." He laughs, picking up his pencil again.
"Eddie. What's the end goal?"
"To not struggle anymore, I guess."
"Do you have any dreams?"
"Closest I ever got to it was Paige. We were supposed to go to California so I could record. I didn't have the money. So I got caught up with my dad. We did some jobs but in the end... nothing paid off for me."
"I'm sorry, Eddie."
"Life's a... complicated thing. Do you have any dreams?"
"I wanted to go to med school. Or I thought I did. That's what I told everyone so that they would be proud of me. But now? I wouldn't mind being a teacher or something. For small kids."
"Would you ever have one of your own?"
"I don't know. Don't think I'm good enough to be a mother."
"You never know."
"Who's going to help me test that theory?" You tease.
"Some lucky guy." He teases back. "Alright. I got to get to selling. There's one more job my Dad wants us to do."
"Don't think I'm so comfortable with working for your 'can't be trusted' father'."
"It's not for him. It's for Rick. And Rick can be trusted."
"Okay. What is it."
"He wants us to go Chicago to deliver to a guy. And he's covering the expenses of everything."
"Is he rich?"
"Not legally."
"So, just you and I? In a hotel room?"
"Is that so bad?" He grins.
"No. Sounds fun, actually. Maybe we finally get to feel what it's like to live."
After a couple of weeks, Eddie's made 520 dollars off of selling alone, giving you $260 as a fair split.
After a shopping trip paid by Rick as well, you and Eddie definitely look Chicago bound.
You're sitting next to him on the plane, looking through a fashion magazine. Eddie keeps telling you that you're dressed like you're in one, but you just swat him off jokingly. You gasp when you see a woman in a dress way outside your tax bracket, and show it to him.
"Are you joking? This dress must cost a fortune." You say, fangirling over it.
"That would look nice on you. You into fashion?"
"Who isn't?"
"Motherfuckers that can't dress." He says, which makes you laugh.
"Good thing we're dressed in style. And the ponytail looks hot on you."
"Don't do that-" he says, getting flustered.
"I guess compliments are illegal." You joke.
"It is when we're on a plane full of people and I can't do anything about what you're doing to me."
Where'd the boldness come from?
"Keep this up Munson, and you just may be in luck."
Checking into the House of Blues hotel was simple.
You and Eddie asked for a couple's suite just to make things easier. You're only staying for three days, after all.
"Holy shit." Eddie says, his breath taken away.
"Watch your language in front of the beauty."
"Sorry, ma'am."
You set your bag down, and head to the bed to sink into the bed sheets.
"My God. Why doesn't my bed feel like this?"
Eddie sets his things down as well, laying on the bed next to you.
"You're right. I would take this home if I could."
"Tell me about it."
Lost in the newfound luxury, you and Eddie stare at the ceiling for a few moments, taking in everything.
"I like this." Eddie says.
"So do I."
"I like us."
"I like us too, Eddie. Hopefully giving the supply to Coleman tomorrow goes well. It's a miracle we were able to get it through TSA."
"Who knew a life of crime would be so stressful?"
"Yeah. Who knew?" You're lost in thought, still staring at the ceiling.
But Eddie's not looking at the ceiling anymore. He's looking at you.
"I really hope we know what we're doing." You sigh.
"We've made it this far. And it's a job we'll make $1K each off of."
"I'm scared I'll fuck up. That's a lot of money in one sitting."
"You won't."
"You don't know that, Munson." You grin, turning to look at him.
"...You're giving me that look again."
"What look?"
"The one like you want to get into trouble."
"Maybe I do."
"Come here."
Eddie's hands catch your waist once you lift off the bed and onto him, and your legs end up on either side of his body. You hold his shoulders before leaning down to kiss him, and he groans softly into your mouth as soon as you do.
He's shamelessly holding your ass and pushing you back and forth against his erect dick to give you friction. You pant into his mouth as your hands clutch him tighter.
You feel his tongue peek from his mouth, so you open it slightly to let him slip it in. He grumbles in satisfaction, his chest rumbling.
You're still rubbing yourself against him, increasing your pace slightly.
Eddie's getting harder by the second.
"Get up." Eddie orders. His voice is in the same authoritative tone he used with you the day you almost got arrested.
When he sits up against the headboard with his legs tucked under him after removing your panties, he pulls the lower half of your body up from the bed, putting your pussy on his mouth.
The first lick of his tongue causes you to grip the sheets and shiver. The cold metal ball of his piercing adds an extra layer to the sensation.
Each lick he delivers drives you fucking crazy.
He's holding you in place, tongue fucking you like he's wanted to do this for ages.
"God, you're fucking good at this."
You hear him chuckle onto you.
His stubble adds friction to your steadily approaching orgasm, and is accompanied by his loose curls tickling your thighs.
You suck in a sharp gasp, the sheets crinkling below you as wraps his lips around your pearl and flick his tongue harder and faster.
Your body arches further off the bed. "EddieEddiefuck-"
When your orgasm hits you hard, you reach an octave no man has ever made you hit before.
He slowly lowers you back down, licking his lips. He comes to hover over you. "You want more of me?" He teases.
"You're a fucking idiot for thinking you even have to ask, Eddie Munson." You chuckle.
You watch him pull his pants down just enough for his cock to show, before he pulls you down on it with a grip of your hips.
He fucks you onto his cock, his brows knitted in pleasure.
You've needed a night like this for a while. A night where you finally aren't fucking a loser for once.
Your back arches as he's sharp with his thrusts. He's huffing under his breath, and it's pissing you off.
"Let it out, Munson. Fuck, I want to hear you."
He obeys without question, finally letting you hear how broken he sounds.
His face is so red you think he might cum already.
"Wh- where do you want me t-to cum?"
"In me, Eddie." You grin.
"F-fuck that's not funny-"
"It's not a joke."
He groans, his head leaning back when he cums into you deeply, just as you asked for.
"...You are a wicked, wicked woman." He says in disbelief.
Getting ready to meet Coleman to give him his "package" the next morning was...quite interesting to say the least.
Eddie seems to be completely smitten with you, but shy and embarrassed with himself about last night. He hasn't been able to hold eye contact with you for longer than two seconds.
"Well, Eddie. You ready to do this job?" You smirk, completely aware of how pussy whipped you have him already.
"Mhm." He says, gulping right after.
"Eddie."
"Hm?"
"You're allowed to look at me, you know."
"Sorry. Last night was-"
"Fucking unpredictable? Like how good you are with your mouth?"
"God, you're shameless."
"I'm just being honest. You've got quite the tongue on you."
Eddie seems to ease up. "I'm not exactly opposed to using it on you again."
Pulling up to Coleman's hideout gives you the heebie jeebies.
"You don't seem scared. You used to going into shit creepy places like this?" You ask him.
"My old man used to bring me with him on his little drug runs. Didn't get the memo until I was thirteen, though. Always thought he was just 'visiting a friend'."
Eddie knocks on the door twice. Your arm is interlocked with his as you both wait for Coleman to answer.
"Who is it?"
"Songbird and Bluejay." He answers.
Coleman brings you both inside, quickly shutting the door with a lock click.
"Do y'all happen to have Cardinal's package by chance?" He asks gruffly.
Eddie pulls out the cone shaped container from a bag, and hands it to him.
Coleman inspects it closely, opening it up to look at the contents. He grunts under his breath.
"Alright. Seems like you two delivered it... In perfect condition and on time."
He reaches into his baggy pants pocket, pulling out a roll of fifty's. You keep yourself from dropping your jaw, but Eddie's is down. You nudge him into behaving.
"As promised. $2K."
Eddie takes the money, handing it to you so that you can place it in your purse.
"I look forward to doing more business with you." He says, heading back to his desk.
"Anytime." Eddie says.
You can't believe it. Making this much with your old job would've taken forever.
You and Eddie walk out, still arm in arm.
"Can you believe this shit?" You ask Eddie.
"No. It's bat shit crazy."
"I think I'm starting to like this life."
"Of course you do. I told you, you're trouble."
He leans against his car, and you hold him against it by his jacket collar.
"I don't mind us ruffling a few feathers together." You say.
"Oh trust me, sweetheart. The world's not ready for us. Bonnie and Clyde, baby."
"Bonnie and Clyde." You affirm, just before you kiss him to seal the deal.
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It's been a while since I've worked on a sincere, longer-form landscape study. I still had to keep a time limit of one hour on this, but I still had a lot of fun focusing on this. Daily drawing 2472.
warnings/tags: smut, sub! eddie, bossy reader, strangers to something, pining, unprotected sex
⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧
You had always had a crush on Eddie Munson, no matter how hard your best friend Robin tried to deter you.
It was embarrassing how constant it was. A low, stubborn hum under your skin that refused to die no matter how many times Robin elbowed you in the ribs during band practice or muttered warnings under her breath in the cafeteria. You were always the band geek with the clarinet case and the careful posture, the one who sat in the back row of the woodwinds section and tried to disappear into the music.
You were invisible.
And Eddie Munson? Eddie Munson was a goddamn supernova in a leather jacket and denim vest covered in patches, all wild curls and loud laughter and that sharp, theatrical way he moved through the world like he was daring it to look away from him.
Robin knew. She always knew when your eyes lingered too long.
“Stop,” she’d hissed just yesterday, trumpet balanced on her knee as the rest of the band packed up around you. “He’s not… he’s not for you. Eddie’s a lot. Too much. And he’s got his own shit going on- Hellfire, his band, whatever the hell he's up to after school. You don’t want to get pulled into that. Trust me.”
There’d been something tight in her voice, something almost protective layered over something else you couldn’t quite name. But it didn’t matter. The second you caught sight of him in the hallway after practice- leaning against his locker, rings flashing as he gestured wildly at Gareth and Jeff about some new campaign idea- your stomach flipped and your fingers tightened around the handle of your clarinet case like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.
He never looked your way. Not once. You were background noise. The soft, precise sound of a clarinet in a sea of trumpets and drums. He was electric guitar feedback and screeching tires in the parking lot and the smell of cigarette smoke clinging to his jacket when he brushed past. You wondered what those long fingers would feel like if they ever actually touched you instead of guitar strings. Wondered if his voice would drop low and rough if he ever decided you were worth speaking to directly. The thought made heat crawl up your throat and settle somewhere deeper, heavier.
You were so tired of being invisible.
That night, alone in your room with your elbows propped against your desk and homework forgotten, the ache finally tipped into something sharper. You couldn’t keep doing this- watching him from across the cafeteria, heart hammering every time that wild laugh cut through the noise, pretending Robin’s warnings were enough to kill the pull. You needed a plan. Something that would force Eddie Munson to actually see you. Not the quiet band kid. Not the background extra in his loud, chaotic movie.
Something bold. Something stupid, maybe. Something that would drag you out of the safe, invisible corner you’d carved for yourself and straight into his orbit.
Your mind raced through possibilities while your fingers tapped restlessly against your thigh. Join Hellfire Club? God, the thought alone made your pulse jump- sitting at that table under the weight of his attention, having to roll dice while he watched you with those dark, intense eyes. Or maybe something riskier. Corner him after school by his van, music blasting, and just… say something. Anything. Or find a way to make him come to you.
You didn’t know yet how far you were willing to go. But then the decision sparked in your brain like a lit fuse.
No more watching. No more quiet, invisible longing from the back of the band room. If Eddie Munson was going to notice you, it had to be something he couldn’t ignore. Something loud. Something that matched the way he lived his entire life- big, dramatic, impossible to look away from.
So you were going to kiss him.
No words. No explanation. Just shove him back against his locker, fist in that stupid denim vest, and take what you’d been aching for since the first time you saw him. Then walk away like your heart wasn’t trying to claw its way out of your throat.
It was completely insane. You knew that. Robin would kill you if she found out. You might actually die of embarrassment if he pushed you off and laughed in your face. But the thought of his mouth on yours, even for a few reckless seconds, was louder than the fear.
⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧
You waited until the hallway was busy enough to give you cover but not so crowded that someone would physically stop you. Third period passing, right after the bell. Eddie was at his locker like always, rings glinting as he shoved books inside, curls falling into his face while he talked shit with Jeff about something you couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in your ears.
Robin had gone ahead to class. You’d told her you forgot something in the band room. She’d narrowed her eyes but let it go.
Your legs felt unsteady as you crossed the hallway. Every step made your pulse louder. By the time you reached him, your hands were shaking, but the decision had already been made. No backing out now.
Eddie turned at the last second, eyes widening just a fraction when he registered you coming straight at him. “Hey-”
You didn’t let him finish.
Both hands hit his chest harder than you intende. The metal of the locker door slammed against his back with a loud clang that turned a few heads. Your fingers curled into the worn collar of his shirt and vest, yanking him down as you surged up on your toes. And then your mouth was on his.
The world narrowed to the shock of it.
He tasted like cigarettes and the cherry candy he was always sucking on between classes. His lips were softer than you expected, but the second they registered what was happening, they parted on a startled sound that you swallowed whole. You kissed him like you were trying to crawl inside his skin- desperate, hungry, all the months of silent wanting poured into one reckless, bruising press of your mouth. Your body pressed in close, chest to chest, the hard line of his rings biting into your fingers where you gripped him.
For one suspended second, he froze.
Then Eddie Munson kissed you back.
One of his hands came up and grabbed your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, yanking you tighter against him. The other slid into your hair at the nape of your neck, not gentle, not careful- just possessive, like he was anchoring you there. A low, rough noise rumbled out of his chest and into your mouth. He kissed like he did everything else. Intense, a little wild, all in. His tongue brushed yours and your knees nearly buckled. The hallway, the stares, the risk- none of it mattered. There was only the heat of his mouth, the way his body felt solid and warm under your hands, the dizzying realization that he was kissing you like he’d been waiting for it too.
You almost forgot the plan.
Almost.
With every ounce of willpower you had left, you tore your mouth away. Your lips felt swollen, tingling. Eddie’s eyes were dark, blown wide, lips parted and shiny from your kiss. He looked stunned. Wrecked. Like you’d just short-circuited something in that loud, brilliant brain of his.
You didn’t say a word.
You just let go of his collar, took one shaky step back, then another. Turned. And walked away on legs that didn’t feel entirely attached to your body.
Behind you, you heard the low, disbelieving laugh that was pure Eddie Munson- rough and delighted and a little dangerous.
“Holy shit,” he called after you, voice carrying down the hallway. “Hey- hey, wait- ”
You didn’t stop. Your heart was hammering so hard you could feel it in your teeth. Your mouth still tasted like him. Your hands were trembling. Someone definitely whistled. Someone else muttered “what the fuck just happened.” You kept walking, head high even though your face was burning, the taste of him still on your tongue and the ghost of his hand in your hair like a brand.
You made it around the corner before your back hit the wall and you slid down it, knees finally giving out. A shaky, hysterical little laugh escaped you.
You did it.
You actually fucking did it.
And Eddie Munson had kissed you back.
Now you just had to survive whatever came next.
⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧
By lunch, the entire school was buzzing like someone had set off a firecracker in the middle of the cafeteria.
You could feel it the second you stepped through the double doors. Heads turned. Whispers followed you like a trail of smoke. Someone actually pointed. You heard your name- or at least “that band girl”- mixed with Eddie’s in the same breath. The story had already mutated- you’d shoved him, kissed him like you were trying to devour him, and then walked away like a badass. Some versions had you straddling him. Others claimed he’d grabbed you and wouldn’t let go. None of them were entirely wrong.
Your usual table felt like a spotlight. You sat down with your tray anyway, trying to look normal while your heart did somersaults behind your ribs. Every time the cafeteria doors opened, your eyes snapped up, hoping for wild curls and a denim vest. Nothing. Eddie’s usual spot was empty. Hellfire was there- Gareth, Jeff, and a couple others- but their table was quieter than usual, and Eddie was nowhere in sight. The absence felt louder than if he’d been sitting there staring at you.
You poked at your food and tried to breathe.
Robin found you five minutes later.
She didn’t even sit. She just appeared at your side, grabbed your wrist, and hauled you up with a hissed, “Come with me. Now.”
You let her drag you out into the hallway and around the corner near the band room, where it was quieter. The second you were alone she spun on you, eyes wide and furious and confused.
“What the hell did you do?”
You shrugged, aiming for casual even though your pulse was still racing from the memory of Eddie’s mouth on yours. “I kissed him. That’s it. Shoved him against his locker and kissed him. No big deal.”
Robin stared at you like you’d grown a second head.
“No big deal?” She laughed, short and disbelieving. “You kissed Eddie Munson in front of half the school and then just walked away like it was nothing? People are saying you two were practically making out against the lockers. That he had his hands all over you. That you-” She stopped, ran a hand through her hair, and gave you a look that was half exasperation, half genuine concern. “It is a big deal. You don’t just do something like that to Eddie and expect it to disappear by sixth period. He’s… intense. And he doesn’t do halfway. You know that.”
You shrugged again, but it felt weaker this time. Your lips still tingled when you thought about it. The way he’d grabbed your waist. The rough little sound he’d made when you’d kissed him back. The way he’d called after you. You kept replaying it on a loop and it was getting harder to pretend it hadn’t shaken something loose inside you.
“I just wanted him to notice me,” you said quietly.
Robin’s expression softened for half a second before the worry took over again. “Oh, he noticed. Everyone noticed. The question is what he’s going to do about it.” She glanced down the empty hallway like she expected him to appear any second. “And where the hell even is he? He skipped lunch. That’s not like him.”
You didn’t have an answer. You’d been wondering the same thing since the rumors started. Was he pissed? Embarrassed? Plotting some dramatic revenge? Or was he somewhere thinking about the kiss the same way you were- replaying it, touching his mouth, wondering what the hell just happened?
Robin studied your face for a long moment, then sighed.
“Just… be careful, okay? Eddie doesn’t do casual. And neither do you, even if you’re pretending right now.” She squeezed your arm. “If he finds you later, don’t let him steamroll you. And find me if you need backup.”
She left you there in the hallway with your half-eaten lunch and the weight of a hundred rumors pressing in from every direction.
You leaned back against the cool cinderblock wall and closed your eyes.
The next day was the first official day of spring break, and Hawkins woke up to perfect weather- warm sun, a light breeze off the water, and not a single cloud in the sky. No school. No hallways full of whispers. No Robin giving you that worried, knowing look every five minutes.
Just you, your spot at Lover’s Lake, and the old wooden pier that had become your private sanctuary over the years.
You grabbed your usual supplies- a blanket, your frayed backpack with the good stuff inside, and a lighter- and headed out. The walk down to the water was quiet, the trees just starting to fill in with new green. When you reached the end of the pier, you kicked off your shoes, spread the blanket out on the sun warmed wood, and sat with your legs dangling over the edge. The lake stretched out in front of you, calm and sparkling.
You lit up, took a slow hit, and let the smoke curl out of your lungs as you leaned back on your hands. The weed hit smooth and easy, loosening the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest since yesterday. The kiss. The rumors. The way Eddie had kissed you back like he’d been starving for it. The way he’d grabbed your waist, fingers digging in, that low sound he made against your mouth. You’d replayed it so many times it felt branded into your skin.
You were halfway through your second hit when you noticed it.
Across the lake, parked crooked in the gravel driveway of one of the old houses that sat back in the trees, was a very familiar green and white van.
Eddie’s van.
Your stomach flipped hard.
You sat up straighter, squinting against the sunlight reflecting off the water. There was no mistaking it- the dents, the peeling paint on the side, the way it was angled like he’d pulled in too fast and didn’t care. The house itself looked quiet. No music blasting. No movement visible from this distance. But the van being there meant he was there.
You took another slow drag, the smoke curling warm in your chest as your mind raced.
Of all the places in Hawkins, he was across the lake from your spot. The one place you came when you needed to think. When you needed to get away from everything and everyone. And after what you’d done yesterday- after shoving him into that locker and kissing him like you had every right to- he was right there. Close enough that if you raised your voice, he might hear you on a quiet day like this.
Or maybe he already knew you were here.
The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through you, mixing with the weed and the memory of his mouth. Your lips still felt sensitive. Your waist still remembered the pressure of his hand. You wondered if he was thinking about it too, wherever he was over there. If he’d skipped lunch yesterday because he couldn’t face the rumors… or because he was planning something. You felt delusional with all of these theories.
You exhaled another lungful of smoke and stared at the van, heart beating a little faster.
You stayed where you were. There was no need to hide now that you've taken the initiative to start something that you have no idea how it'll end.
The pier was warm under the blanket, the sun soaking into your skin, and the lake was calm enough that the only sounds were the gentle lap of water against the posts and the occasional bird. You lit up again, took a long, slow hit, and let it settle in your lungs before exhaling toward the sky. The weed hit harder this time- or maybe it was just everything in life catching up to you. Either way, it made the world feel softer around the edges. Floaty. A little too warm in the best way.
You tried to play it casual. Laid back on the blanket with one arm behind your head, legs stretched out, pretending you were just here to relax like always. But inside, your thoughts kept drifting straight back to him and this new look on life you've adopted. There's no going back now. You won't let yourself be invisible any longer. You crave the adventure. The chaos. The taste of him. The heat of it.
The need was worse now that you were high. It sat low in your stomach, warm and insistent. You kept replaying the kiss on a loop, imagining what would have happened if you hadn’t walked away. If you’d let him keep kissing you. If those hands had wandered further.
You were halfway through another hit when movement across the lake caught your eye.
Eddie stepped out of the weathered house.
Even from this distance you recognized the way he moved- that loose, confident stride, curls bouncing, pins on his vest catching the sunlight. He paused on the porch for a second, stretching, then turned his head like he was scanning the lake. And then he saw you.
You could tell the exact moment he recognized you on the pier. His posture changed. He stood there for a beat, just looking, and even across the water you felt the weight of it.
Then he lifted one hand, pointed at you, and called out, voice carrying clear over the calm surface of the lake.
“Hey! You! Get your ass over here!”
The words hit you like a spark to dry tinder. Your stomach flipped hard. He was smiling- that sharp, crooked grin that always made your pulse jump- but there was something else in it too. Something darker. Interested. Like he’d been waiting for this.
You sat up slowly, the weed making everything feel a little dreamlike as you watched him start walking toward his van. He didn’t wait to see if you’d follow. Just leaned against the trunk like he knew you would.
Your heart was beating too fast. The high made you feel bold and loose and a little reckless, the same way you’d felt right before you shoved him into that locker yesterday.
You stubbed out the joint, grabbed your stuff, and stood up on slightly unsteady legs and crossed the lake path, the weed humming warm and loose through your veins. Every step made the memory of yesterday’s kiss sharper. By the time you reached the van, Eddie was waiting with his arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face.
He didn’t waste time.
“So,” he started, voice low and rough, “you gonna explain what the hell that was yesterday? Or are you just gonna keep showing up places like you didn’t shove me into a locker in front of half the school and kiss me like you were trying to ruin me for anyone else?”
You stopped a few feet away. The sun was warm on your back. The high made everything feel slow and electric at the same time- the way his rings caught the light, the way his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, the faint smell of weed and cigarettes and cologne that smelled so much like pine.
He kept going, stepping closer, voice dropping even lower.
“Rumors are everywhere. People saying you walked away like it was nothing. Like you didn’t just- ” He laughed once, short and disbelieving. “I skipped lunch because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. And then I come out here and there you are, sitting on that pier like you own the goddamn lake.” His eyes dragged over you, slow and deliberate. “So what’s the plan this time, huh? You gonna kiss me and run again? Or are you actually gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?”
You didn’t answer with words.
Instead you closed the distance in two steps, grabbed the front of his vest the same way you had yesterday, and shoved him back against the cool metal of the van. The trunk rattled. His eyes went wide for half a second- surprised, impressed?- before you were on him.
You kissed him hard.
This time there was no audience. No hallway. No reason to stop. Your confidence tripled under the taste of him, the way his mouth opened under yours instantly, the rough sound he made when your tongue slid against his. You pressed in close, one hand still fisted in his vest, the other sliding up into his hair and tugging. He kissed you back like he’d been holding back yesterday, all heat and hunger, teeth scraping your bottom lip before he sucked on it.
“Fuck,” he muttered against your mouth, voice already wrecked. One of his hands found your waist and yanked you in tighter while the other slid down to grab your ass, pulling you flush against him. You could feel how fast he was getting hard against your hip. “You’re really doing this again-”
You didn’t let him finish. You kissed him deeper, rougher, biting at his lip the way he’d just done to you. You were bold, every small touch made you want more, made every point of contact feel like it was burning straight through you. Your hands roamed- under his vest, over the thin shirt beneath, feeling the heat of his skin and the way his muscles jumped when your nails dragged lightly over his stomach.
Eddie groaned into your mouth and suddenly he was the one taking control.
He spun you both so your back was against the van instead, one thigh sliding between yours as he pinned you there. His mouth moved to your jaw, then down your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. One hand pushed under your shirt, palm hot against your stomach, fingers spreading wide like he wanted to touch as much of you as possible.
“You started this,” he breathed against your throat, voice low and rough. “Twice now. You keep kissing me like that and walking away and I swear to God-” He nipped at your collarbone, then soothed it with his tongue. “I’m not letting you run this time.”
His hand slid higher under your shirt, thumb brushing the underside of your breast as he kissed you again- messy, deep, a little desperate. The van was warm against your back from the sun. His rings were cool where they pressed into your skin. Everything felt heightened, floaty, and so fucking good you couldn’t think straight.
You could feel how badly he wanted this. How badly you wanted it too.
And neither of you were stopping.
“Van?” Was all that he was able to breathe out.
“Van.”
The back of the van was warm from the sun, the air thick with the lingering smell of weed, old leather, and whatever fast food bags Eddie had tossed in the corner. Blankets and a couple of pillows were already spread out from whatever he’d been doing here. You didn’t hesitate. You climbed in first, grabbed him by the vest, and pulled him after you. The door slammed shut behind him with a heavy thud that made everything feel suddenly very private.
The second you were both inside, it turned into a fight for control.
You shoved him down onto the blankets and climbed over him, straddling his hips as you kissed him hard. Your hands were everywhere- pushing his vest off his shoulders, yanking his shirt up, nails dragging down his chest. Eddie groaned into your mouth and tried to flip you, one strong hand gripping your thigh while the other slid under your shirt to palm your breast. He bit at your lip, trying to take the lead back.
“Nuh-uh,” you breathed against his mouth, grabbing both his wrists and pinning them above his head against the van floor. Your voice came out lower than usual, rough from the weed and the heat. “You were right. I started this. I’m in charge right now.”
Eddie’s eyes flashed dark, a surprised laugh punching out of him. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” He bucked his hips up against you, hard and obvious through his jeans, trying to throw you off balance. “You think you can just-”
You cut him off by grinding down on him deliberately, slow and filthy, while you leaned in and bit the side of his neck hard enough to make him hiss. “I said stay still.”
Something in him shifted.
The fight drained out of his body in one long exhale. His wrists went lax under your hands instead of straining against them. His head dropped back against the pillow, curls spilling everywhere, chest heaving. Those dark eyes looked up at you like he was seeing you for the first time- really seeing you- and the sight of Eddie Munson submitting, giving in, letting you hold him down… it sent a rush of pure power straight through you. You loved it. The way his breathing changed. The way his hips twitched like he was fighting the urge to thrust up again. The way he was looking at you now, hungry and a little wrecked.
You kept kissing him, slower but no less intense, one hand still pinning his wrists while the other roamed- sliding down his stomach, popping the button on his jeans, slipping inside to wrap around him. He was already leaking, hot and hard in your fist. Eddie made a broken sound against your mouth.
“Fuck- why?” he asked, voice hoarse between kisses. His free hand came up to grip your hip, not to take over, just to hold on. “Why are you- Jesus, why now? Why like this?”
You didn’t stop touching him. You stroked him slow and tight while you answered, lips brushing his with every word.
“Because I’ve had a crush on you for fucking ever,” you said, voice steady even as your hand worked him. “Because I’ve been the invisible band geek in the back of the room with my clarinet while you walked around like you owned every hallway. Because Robin kept telling me to stay away and I couldn’t. Because I was tired of you never looking at me.”
You squeezed him on the last word and watched his eyes flutter.
“So I made a plan,” you continued, grinding down against his thigh while your thumb circled the head of his cock. “Something big. Something you couldn’t ignore. I kissed you yesterday so you’d finally see me. And now…” You leaned down, biting his bottom lip before sucking on it. “Now I’m not done. I want you like this. Under me. Letting me have you. Unless you want me to walk away again- you just have to say the word.”
Eddie’s breath hitched hard. His hips jerked up into your hand despite himself.
“Fuck,” he whispered, sounding almost dazed. “Okay. Yeah. Fuck, please don't leave.”
He stopped fighting completely.
His hands stayed where you put them. His body went pliant under yours in a way that made your head spin even more than the weed. He looked up at you with blown pupils and parted lips, completely at your mercy and apparently loving every second of it.
Your move.
You stayed right where you were- straddling his hips in the back of the van, one hand still wrapped around his cock, stroking him slow and tight while your other hand kept his wrists pinned above his head.
Eddie was already wrecked. His curls were messy against the pillow, chest rising and falling fast, lips swollen from your mouth. Every time you twisted your wrist on the upstroke he let out a low, desperate sound that went straight between your legs.
“Please,” he rasped after the third time you brought him right to the edge and stopped. His hips jerked up helplessly into your fist. “Fuck- please, don’t stop. I need-”
You squeezed the base of his cock hard enough to make him choke on the rest of the sentence.
“You need what?” you asked, voice low and taunting. You leaned down and dragged your tongue up the side of his neck, tasting salt and skin. “Use your words, Eddie.”
He groaned, long and broken. “I need to come. I need inside you. Please- fuck, I’ll do anything, just let me-”
You laughed softly against his throat and gave him one more slow stroke before letting go completely. His cock twitched hard against his stomach, flushed dark and leaking steadily. You sat back on his thighs and peeled your shirt off, then your bra, letting him look. His eyes went glassy.
“Hands on me,” you ordered. “But you don’t get to fuck me until I say. You touch my clit while I ride you. That’s it. You understand?”
Eddie nodded fast, almost frantic. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand. Just- please.”
You shoved your pants and underwear down and kicked them off, then reached between your legs and dragged two fingers through your own wetness, letting him watch. You were soaked. The teasing, the power, the way he was looking at you like you were something holy and filthy at the same time- it had you dripping.
You lined him up and sank down onto him in one slow, deliberate motion.
The stretch punched a moan out of both of you. He was thick and hot inside you, filling you perfectly. You didn’t move right away. You just sat there, clenching around him, watching his face as he fought not to thrust up.
“Fuck- you’re so tight,” he groaned. His hands came up immediately, one sliding between your bodies to find your clit like you’d told him to. Two of his rings were cool against your skin as he started rubbing tight, perfect circles. “You feel so fucking good. Please move. Please ride me. I’ll be good, I swear-”
You started to move.
Slow at first. Rolling your hips in deep, grinding circles that dragged the head of his cock against that spot inside you every time. His fingers worked your clit in messy, desperate strokes, trying to match your rhythm. The van was already starting to rock slightly with every movement.
You picked up the pace.
Soon you were riding him hard- bouncing on his cock, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the small space. Every time you dropped down you took him to the hilt. Eddie was babbling now, voice wrecked.
“Please- fuck, please don’t stop- I’m so close, I’m gonna- please let me come inside you, I need it, I need you-”
You leaned forward, one hand braced on his chest, the other fisting in his hair and yanking his head back so you could bite at his throat.
“Not yet,” you panted against his skin. “You don’t come until I do. You wanted me to finish what I started? This is what you get. You take what I give you.”
You rode him faster, chasing your own pleasure while his fingers rubbed your clit in frantic little circles. The combination- his cock stretching you open, his rings pressing against you, the desperate sounds he was making- had you right on the edge in minutes.
When you finally came it hit hard. Your whole body locked up as you clenched around him, a broken moan tearing out of your throat. You kept riding through it, grinding down and using him while the aftershocks rolled through you.
Eddie was shaking underneath you.
“Please,” he begged, voice cracking. “Please, I can’t- I’m gonna-”
You leaned down and kissed him messy and deep, still clenching around him.
“Come,” you ordered against his mouth. “Fill me up.”
He broke with a choked cry, hips snapping up hard as he came deep inside you. You felt every pulse of it- hot and thick, spilling into you while he shook and gasped your name like a prayer.
You stayed on him until the aftershocks faded, both of you panting, sweaty, and trembling. His hands had slid up to grip your hips, holding on like he needed the anchor. You were still in control, still on top, and the look in his eyes when he finally opened them said he had no interest in changing that anytime soon.
Eddie let out a shaky, wrecked little laugh.
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “You’re gonna kill me.”
You smirked, still full of him, and rolled your hips once more just to watch him twitch.
“Good.”
You stayed on top of him while he softened inside you, both of you breathing hard, skin slick with sweat. Then you carefully lifted off and collapsed beside him in the tangle of blankets. The van smelled like sex and weed. Outside, the lake was quiet.
Eddie didn’t let you get far. He immediately pulled you back against his chest, one arm sliding under your head while the other wrapped around your waist like he needed the contact. His curls were a mess against the pillow. He looked completely fucked-out and soft in a way you’d never seen before.
Without a word, he reached over with his free hand, grabbed the half-smoked joint from earlier, and lit it. He took a slow hit, then passed it to you. You took it, the two of you passing it back and forth in comfortable silence for a minute while your heart rates settled.
Eventually he spoke, voice rough and a little shy.
“I’ve noticed you before, you know.”
You turned your head to look at him, surprised. “What?”
Eddie gave a small, self-conscious laugh and rubbed the back of his neck with the hand that wasn’t holding you. “Yeah. In the band room. During pep rallies. You’re always in the back with your clarinet, all focused and serious. I’ve seen you. I just… never said anything.”
You blinked at him. Eddie Munson- loud, dramatic, zero-fucks-given Eddie- was admitting he’d been too shy to talk to you? It didn’t compute.
“You?” you said, half-laughing. “Shy? You? The guy who stands on lunch tables and monologues about D&D and flips off the principal?”
He grinned, a little embarrassed, and ducked his head to hide it against your shoulder. “I know. It’s stupid. But every time I thought about walking up to you I’d get this… I don’t know. Stage fright or something. You always looked like you had your shit together and I was just the freak with the van and the vest.”
You were still processing that when he continued, voice dropping quieter.
“And then yesterday you just… shoved me into a locker and kissed me like that. And today you climbed in here and took control like you owned me.” He let out a breathy laugh, still sounding a little stunned. “You surprised the hell out of me. In the best way. I didn’t think you had that in you.”
You couldn’t help it- you laughed too, the sound soft and a little disbelieving in the small space of the van.
“I didn’t think I had it in me either,” you admitted. “I was just tired of being invisible. Tired of the world telling me what I could and couldn't do. Tired of wanting you and doing nothing about it.”
Eddie lifted his head to look at you properly. His eyes were warm, still a little hazy from the weed and the orgasm. A slow, crooked smile spread across his face.
“Well,” he said, thumb stroking lazy circles on your hip, “mission accomplished. I’m definitely not ignoring you anymore.”
You both laughed again- quiet, fond, a little giddy. The tension from earlier had melted into something easier. He pulled you closer, tucking your head under his chin, and passed you the joint again.
For a while you just laid there together, smoking, skin against skin, the van gently rocking with the breeze off the lake.
Just the two of you.
⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧
You spent almost the entire spring break together.
It started with that afternoon in the back of his van and just… kept going. Eddie brought you inside Rick’s house and you ended up staying the night. Then the next day. Then the next. You smoked on the pier, made out in his van, fucked in the lake at night when no one else was around, and spent lazy mornings tangled up in blankets while he played guitar for you. He showed you his favorite D&D campaigns. You played clarinet for him once, soft and a little shy, and he watched you like you were magic.
By the last night of break you were both a little sunburned, a little sore, and completely addicted to each other.
You were lying on his chest in the back of the van again, the windows cracked to let the cool night air in, when you finally asked.
“So… what are we now?”
Eddie was quiet for a second. Then he let out a dramatic, put-upon sigh and cracked a grin you could feel against your hair.
“Well, I was thinking ‘official van sex partners’ has a nice ring to it. Very professional. We could get business cards.”
You snorted and smacked his chest lightly. He laughed- that loud, bright Eddie laugh- and then his voice softened.
“I’m kidding. I’m all in, if you want me. I’ve been all in since you shoved me into that locker, honestly. So…” He tilted your chin up so you were looking at him. “Will you be my girlfriend? Officially? No more hiding it, big middle finger up to the rumors. Just… us.”
You smiled so wide it hurt.
“Yeah,” you said. “I want that.”
Eddie kissed you like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear it.
Monday morning you showed up to school holding hands.
Eddie’s rings were warm against your fingers. He was wearing his usual battle vest and that stupid grin that said he knew exactly what kind of chaos you were about to cause. You were wearing one of his shirts under your jacket and still smelled like his cologne and weed and last night’s sex. Neither of you cared.
The second you walked through the front doors, the whispers started again- louder than before. People stared. Someone actually gasped. You heard your name and Eddie’s mixed together in the same breath more than once. A couple of the Hellfire guys whooped when they saw you. Someone from the band shot you a wide eyed look like you’d grown a second head.
You didn’t let go of his hand.
Robin found you at your locker before first period. She took one look at your joined hands, then at the matching hickeys you were both definitely trying not to hide, and just sighed.
“I told you he was trouble,” she muttered, but there was a small, reluctant smile tugging at her mouth. “You two are disgusting. I’m happy for you. Don’t make me regret saying that.”
Eddie slung an arm around your shoulders and pressed a loud, dramatic kiss to your temple.
“Too late, Buckley. She’s stuck with me now.”
You leaned into him, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt, and flipped off the next person who stared a little too long.
