Eddie Munson Fanfics

“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.

“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”

“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.

“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”

“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”

“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”

“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 

This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.

“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.

“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”

You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 

There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 

“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”

You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.

When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.

After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.

It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 

“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.

Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 

“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”

She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 

“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 

You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 

“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”

“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 

“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”

“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”

You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 

“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”

“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 

“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 

“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 

“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.

“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”

“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 

Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 

“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”

He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 

“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”

“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”

The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 

Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.

“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 

When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”

Still no reply.

“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 

“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 

Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”

“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”

“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 

“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”

“Huh?”

“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 

“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.

“No.”

“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.

“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”

“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 

“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 

“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“

“No,” you cut him off.

“WHA-“

“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”

“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 

“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”

“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 

“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”

“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.

This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 

After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 

After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.

As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 

Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 

“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”

It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.

“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 

“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 

On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 

“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”

He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 

You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 

“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 

“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”

“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”

“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.

Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  

“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”

“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  

“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”

“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 

“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 

“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”

“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 

“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 

You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 

“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 

He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 

Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 

“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 

“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 

“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”

The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 

“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 

“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”

“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”

Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 

Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 

“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”

“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 

“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”

“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 

“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”

“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”

“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 

“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”

“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”

“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”

“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 

The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 

“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”

“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”

“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”

“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”

He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 

“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 

“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 

“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”

‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.

You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.

“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 

He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 

He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.

As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 

“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”

The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 

Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.

Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 

He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 

As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 

“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 

He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 

You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 

The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 

You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 

Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 

But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 

You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 

“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  

After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 

“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”

“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 

“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 

You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 

He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?

On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 

He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 

Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 

You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 

“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 

“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 

The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 

“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.

“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”

He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”

To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.

“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”

Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 

After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 

Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 

You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.

Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 

As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 

“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 

“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.

“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.

“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 

“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 

Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 

“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”

Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 

“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.

Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 

You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 

“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”

“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.

“From bugs?”

“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”

“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”

You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.

“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.

“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 

“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”

You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.

After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 

It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 

The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 

Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 

Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.

What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 

“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 

You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.

“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.

“Am I what?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 

“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.

Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.

Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 

Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 

He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 

While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.

“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”

“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”

“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”

He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 

“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 

“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”

Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.

“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”

As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.

Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.

“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”

“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”

“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”

“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.

“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”

“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”

You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 

The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 

A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 

It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 

Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.

Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 

“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 

There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 

“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.

“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”

You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 

Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.

“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 

“Oh, I was just waiting for-“

“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.

Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“

“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.

Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.

“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.

He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.

“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”

“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 

“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”

“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”

A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 

“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”

You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 

“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”

“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.

“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 

He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 

“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 

As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 

“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 

“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.

You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 

“Oh my god, fuck off!”

You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.

Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 

“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 

“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.

“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 

“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”

“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.

“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”

Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 

“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 

“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 

“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."

“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”

Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.

“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 

It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 

“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 

“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”

Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 

“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 

He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.

Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.

He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 

“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.

“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.

You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.

He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 

Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”

Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 

“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 

The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.

“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”

Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”

“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”

“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 

“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”

“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”

If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 

The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.

He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 

“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”

Jackpot. 

A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 

“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 

Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 

He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 

“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”

Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 

“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”

The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 

“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.

“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”

You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 

His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 

Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 

Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 

If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.

“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”

“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”

He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 

Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 

“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 

“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”

“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”

You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 

As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 

“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 

“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”

You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 

“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 

You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.

He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.

The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 

Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.

You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 

And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.

“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 

You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.

Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 

Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 

He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 

You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.

You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 

All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 

The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.

“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 

After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 

You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.

Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 

“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.

He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 

“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 

“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”

Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 

“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 

“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 

“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”

You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 

Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 

“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”

The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.

Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 

“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 

Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 

You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 

In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 

“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 

He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 

You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 

Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 

“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 

It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 

Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 

“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 

“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 

In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 

The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 

He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.

Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 

His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 

Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 

He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 

He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 

Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 

“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.

“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.

“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 

His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 

“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”

The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 

“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 

Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 

Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 

Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.

“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”

Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 

“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 

A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 

As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 

He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 

When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 

“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 

“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 

“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 

He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 

“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.

“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 

“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.

He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 

“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 

“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 

You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.

“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 

“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 

“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 

As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 

You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 

Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.

“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 

“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 

He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 

“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 

And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.

His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 

When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 

“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”

With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 

The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 

Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 

He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.

Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 

“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 

“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”

Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 

“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 

“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”

His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 

The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 

When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 

His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.

Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 

You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 

You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 

You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 

Apparently not,

Days pass, and no call. 

It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 

After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 

Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 

“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 

“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”

“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”

“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 

You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 

“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 

“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”

Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 

“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”

“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”

He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“

You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”

“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.

At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 

“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”

“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”

You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”

“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”

“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”

“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”

“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”

Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 

Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 

“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 

You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 

“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”

You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 

Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 

Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.

At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.

And there he is.

In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.

"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.

"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."

You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.

"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."

He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.

"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."

You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.

"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."

He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.

"And I owe you a few dates, for real."

As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.

"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.

"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.

His smile quickly disappeared when you went back to your book, biting his lip harshly as his hips slowly grinded up into his guitar. He watched the pencil press against your plush lips and wished it was his cock. 

You raised your arms to stretch and twist around, groaning at the pain your back was in. He bit back a lewd comment as you moved to lay on your stomach, your ass on display to him. God, he fucking loved those little pink pajama shorts. They hugged your ass perfectly, usually getting swallowed up cause of how short they were. He pushed his guitar down and swallowed hard. His heart rate picked up when you started to kick your feet up in the air, the movements causing your shorts to ride up on your ass even more. 

"Oh God, keep going baby." His eyes were half hooded as he fell more into bliss. The chair he was in began to squeak lightly as he bucked up into his guitar faster. It went unheard as the music he put on (purposely) drowned out his panting. His eyes trailed from your ass to your thighs. He wished he could have those wrapped around his head as you pulled his hair and came in his mouth. God, he was close. His thigh muscles flexed as he held back a moan, his eyes moving back to your ass and noticing your panties now peeking through. Of course you would wear lace. 

"Ugh! I fucking hate this!" He jumped a little when you slammed your book down, your ass jiggling at the movement and making his hips stutter. You shook your head in annoyance before moving to another book, licking your finger so you can open to a certain page.

"Holy fucking s-shit." He began to breathe faster, though remaining quiet. His hand quickly darted to his stereo, turning up the music a little louder.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his guitar hard, pushing it against his cock. His leg kicked out from its previous bent position, muscles flexing as it shook, his body jerking. His cum exploded into his boxers, a guttural moan vibrating in his throat as he scrunched his eyes shut tightly, entire body jolting at the intensity. His hand accidently hit the strings, causing a loud shrill to echo throughout the bedroom. He choked on a breath before opening his eyes and looking over at you. You ignored him, eyes darting across the page of your book, figuring he was probably mad about fucking up a chord.

Eddie wiped a shaky hand across his forehead, moving his sweaty hair back that stuck to it. He looked down at his guitar, slightly moving it back to see a sticky wet patch of cum on his jeans, a string of wetness connecting to the surface of the guitar. 

He quickly untucked his baggy shirt to cover the spot on his jeans. 

"Hey sweetheart, wanna take a break? Want to see you play with my guitar." His tongue rubbed against the inside of his cheek to hide his smile. 

You tilted your head at him puzzled. "Uh, sure." 

He grabbed his guitar by the neck and held it up toward you. "Take it." 

You grabbed it and pulled the strap over your head. He licked his lips, feeling his dick start to get hard again knowing that his cum was now on your shirt. 

next part->

He walks to stand beside you, shoes thunking heavy on the wooden deck. You tilt your chin to smile brightly up at him while he slips a cig into his mouth. He cups the stick as he lights it. Pretends that’s what he came out here for. Not to see you, of course. 

Definitely not.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he mumbles beneath the cigarette in his mouth.

“Robin just left,” you answer plainly, half-shy.

“Why didn’t you come find me?” he asks with an air of nonchalance, still trying to play it cool. ‘Cause there’s nothing less metal than yearning.

You shrug. “‘Cause you were busy?”

It’s easier than telling him that you thought he wanted the space. Or that you actually spent the whole night aching to hang on his side — too scared of embarrassing him in front of all his friends to act on it. 

You know who you are just like you know who he is. Bubblegum pink doesn’t always go well with black. It gets in your hair. Makes everything go all sticky. It’s an acquired taste you know Eddie’s still getting used to — too much of it, and his stomach will start to hurt. So you figure it’s best to keep your distance.

You just didn’t think he was as grieved by it all as you were.

Eddie scoffs. I’m never too busy for you, he wants to say. He might’ve if he wasn’t such a coward. Instead, he blows smoke from his lungs and jokes, “I wouldn’t call keeping Argyle from crowd-surfing in the living room busy, sweetheart.”

A laugh tumbles from his plush lips. The golden sound falls over your skin like stars. You smile absentmindedly back at him as you rise from the creaking rocking chair. You plant your feet ahead of his and smooth your palms beneath his leather jacket, over his warm sides.

Eddie meets your twinkling eyes with narrowed chocolate ones. “What?”

“Hug?” you ask in a mousy voice.

The boy laughs like he’s too cool for affection, though he’d be lying if he said your offer doesn’t have his chest sparkling something fierce. He flicks the cig to the ground — sheepish gaze going with it — before snuffing it out beneath his sneaker.

“Clingy much?” he scoffs.

You nod with a proud smile. 

Eddie’s chest swirls with an unfamiliar feeling. You’re strangely brave about all this — affection and love and all things sweet enough to make him gag. 

It makes him feel like he can feel brave, too.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you with all the intensity of someone wanting to swallow you whole. You hug him back just the same. “I missed you,” you murmur with your cheek squished against his chest.

“Then what’re you avoidin’ me for, huh?” he teases, chin bobbing against your head.

You pull slightly back to squint at him. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“You’ve been hangin’ out with Steve and Robin the whole night,” he grieves, hiding his sincerity behind boyish theatrics. With a feigned pout that feels totally real, he says, “And you didn’t even sit next to me when we played Never Have I Ever.”

“I thought you wanted the space,” you confess in a hushed voice.

His face screws up like he’s tasted something sour. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “You always talk about how much you like being alone and stuff, so—”

“Well, yeah! I like my space— just not from you!”

It’s likely the least metal thing he’s ever said.

“Oh,” you hum, mouth contorting into a sheepish beam. “Well… Sorry.”

~~~

"Wake up, beautiful." Y/N felt a hand shaking her shoulder as she woke up. Her eyes cracked open to see Eddie holding a cup with steam rising out of it. She slowly sat up and took him in. His wild hair, bruised neck, scratched tattooed chest, and the sweatpants that were low on his hips.

"You look ready to pounce on me before coffee is even served." Eddie teased, handing her the cup as he kissed her forehead. She sipped on the coffee slowly, a smile on her face as he made it the exact way she liked. Eddie slid back into the bed next to her as he drank his coffee.

This was one of Y/N's favorite parts of sex with Eddie. The comfortable silence as they cuddled and sipped on their coffee. The soft kisses he placed on her head, and his rant about whatever dream he had. She wondered what it would be like to be like this all the time with him. It was sex, but so much more happened before and after. It had to mean something to him, didn't it?

~~~

Eddie and Y/N walked into the party holding hands, his flannel on her shoulders. She dragged him over to the kitchen, filling up cups as she talked over the music. It was a night of flirting and dancing. Their bodies smashed against each other as they made out in the middle of the party. It was things like this that made her think they'd be so good together. He was thinking the same thing, and it scared him. When she pulled away to head to the bathroom, he left to get another drink.

He tried to drink away his fears, pushing the thought of how perfect she was out of his head.

"Where's your girlfriend?" Chrissy asked over the music, her hand sliding up and down his chest. Eddie didn't notice she was even there until she started touching him. His eyes blurry from the alcohol as he looked down at her.

"Girlfriend?"

Chrissy rolled her eyes at his question. "Y/N"

Eddie was quick to correct her that they were just friends. He couldn't handle being more, it terrified him. And it terrified him that others were seeing it too.

"You showed up together and she's wearing your clothes," Chrissy argued, her arms crossed. Eddie's eyes locked on her chest, licking his lips.

"She stayed over and was cold." Eddie shrugged. That's all it was. They fucked, slept, and just hung out the whole day. She didn't have anything but the small dress so she styled it with his flannel. It was all explainable. Nothing special going in. Not like her wearing his clothes sent butterflies flying around in his stomach. Or that waking up next to her made him the happiest he's ever been. It was nothing like that.

"Oh...so that means I can do this?"

Y/N finally made it out of the bathroom, too many couples didn't understand people need to use the bathroom for bathroom purposes. Y/N tugged the flannel around herself as all the guys stared at her with a hungry gaze. She kept her eyes out for Eddie. She passed by the kitchen but stopped when she saw his familiar hair. She did it before the party, half of it in a bun and the rest flying down his shoulders. She remembered how she sat on his lap as she fixed it, his lips kissing her face and messing her up. He tickled her sides and tackled her on the bed. She felt a lump in her throat as she took in the scene. Chrissy had her arms wrapped around his neck as his tongue was down her throat. Y/N felt the need to puke when Eddie cupped her ass. She watched as they pulled apart, Chrissy grabbing his hand. Y/N panicked as they walked closer to her, tears in her eyes Eddie didn't even notice her as they walked past and went up the stairs. She watched over her shoulder as they disappeared into the upstairs hallway.

She wiped her face and dug out her phone, sending him a text that she felt sick and was finding a ride home. She quickly raced out of the house, yanking off his flannel and tying it to his door handle. She felt like an idiot. She hated that he made her feel so special like she meant something, and yet could make her feel like she was nothing.

Eddie moaned as Chrissy attacked his already bruised neck. His hands were on her hips as she rubbed herself against him. Eddie heard his phone buzzed and pulled away, Chrissy groaned as he moved her off his lap.

"Seriously?" She snapped.

"Just one second!" Eddie barked, digging his phone out of his jeans. He quickly read the text and jumped up. He grabbed his shirt off the floor and buckled his pants.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Chrissy asked, her bare chest covered by her arms.

"Y/N feels sick, I don't want her to ask a stranger for a ride home." He explained. He threw back on his shoes and jacket and headed for the door.

"Sure she's not a girlfriend?" Chrissy asked behind him.

"I'm sure" he snapped and slammed the door. He raced down the steps as fast as he could and went out on the lawn. He didn't see her but saw something in his van. He kept a look out for her as he got closer, he realized it was his flannel. He pulled out his phone to call her, but she didn't pick up. He sighed and pulled up to her location, getting in his van and following her small mark.

He pulled up to a diner, that was just down the street, her frame in the window. Eddie got out of his van and walked in. He sat across from her as she looked up.

"What are you doing here?" She was surprised he found her, and that he even came to look for her.

"You could have waited, I would have brought you home." He explained, taking off his jacket as he handed it to her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin and the way she shivered.

"Didn't want to interrupt you." She mumbled, sipping on her shake as she cuddled into his jacket. She didn't need a visual of what she knew was going on. She didn't need to see Eddie touch Chrissy the way he touched her. But they weren't together, so she couldn't even rip him apart if she wanted to.

"I'd drop anything or anyone for you, baby girl. You know that." He said, grabbing her hand as he softly rubbed it.

She didn't understand him. The way he made it sound like he would always pick her, but yet had no problem sleeping with someone else.

They sat in silence as she was lost in her thoughts. He paid for her shake and drove her to his trailer. He kissed her softly as he stripped her clothes and gave her his shirt to sleep in. He pressed against her back as he wrapped his arms around her once they lay down. His soft breathing against her ear as he fell asleep.

The moments when he made her feel special were the reasons why she stayed.

~~~

Y/N drove herself to the next party, more prepared this time if she needed a quick escape. She wore comfy jeans and an old T-shirt, not in the mood to have her body shown off. She talked with a few friends as she looked around. She knew Eddie was coming, but she wasn't sure when.

Around an hour later, Eddie wandered in. His eyes searched for her immediately. He felt a growl in his throat when he saw a boy leaning over her against the wall. She was talking about something, her eyes huge and excited. Eddie couldn't help but watch how beautiful she looked just talking. Her simple outfit looked gorgeous on her. She easily took his breath away and turned his legs into jelly. He still couldn't figure out what was so different about her. But as he watched the guy lean closer and closer, Eddie couldn't help but march over there. Even if she wasn't his, she was still fucking his.

He pretended to trip into them, spilling the guy's drink all over Y/N. She gasped as the liquid drenched her shirt. Eddie apologized to the guy and grabbed her hand. Everything was so fast she could barely keep up. Before she knew it she was in the bathroom, placed on the counter as Eddie yanked off her shirt and bra. His mouth latching on her nipples as he sucked and yanked. She was breathless as she dropped her head against the mirror. His hands worked inside her jeans, immediately slipping two fingers inside of her.

"Jesus Eddie" she moaned, her body was on fire. She couldn't think, just melting as he fingered her and worked on her chest.

"Look at me" he demanded, his fingers fucking her harder as she tried to look down at him. She looked into his eyes as he rubbed her clit. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream.

"You're fucking mine, got that?" He growled, his forehead pressed against hers as he said it right against her lips. She nodded as her orgasm was building. Her heart fluttered at his words. She wanted to be his so bad, just his.

"Say it, baby girl. Please, baby." He said again, rubbing her clit faster, she whimpered against his lips.

"All yours."

~

Eddie kissed her face softly as he fixed her jeans and covered her in his jacket. Her mind kept thinking of him calling her his, did he mean it? Or was he caught up in the mood?

They left the bathroom and headed back out to the party. Y/N felt her body buzzing with excitement. But she couldn't help but be dying to ask.

She spent the rest of the party under his arm, they talked to their friends and sipped on their drinks. She couldn't help but smile as he kept her close and kept looking down at her. The way he'd move her hair and kiss her softly before continuing his conversation. Why couldn't he see how good they'd be together?

She watched as Eddie dug out his phone and read a text. She couldn't read it but he announced he had to go to the bathroom, he kissed her head and wandered off.

She had a bad feeling about it. The way he left immediately after getting a text message? But who would have his number?

She went outside to sit by the pool, once again feeling like an idiot as she sat in his clothes. A body sat next to hers after a few minutes passed, she noticed it was Eddie as he threw his arm around her. He reeked of cheap perfume. She looked up and noticed the red lipstick all around his neck.

She swallowed the familiar lump in her throat and looked back at the pool water.

She was his

But he was nowhere near hers.

~~~

Y/N was slowly coming around to understand that Eddie wasn't going to change and that he wasn't going to settle on one girl. He'd never give up the fuck boy's life, and he wasn't going to for her. She had to move on from the idea of them being anything more.

It hurt to admit to herself but it had to be done.

Another party where Eddie disappeared and would come back to her to take her back to his trailer. She felt disgusted with herself for lying next to him knowing he had no problem sleeping with someone else.

It was getting late and she wanted to go home but Eddie was nowhere to be found. She knew it would be a bad idea to look for him, but a part of her wanted to see it. Maybe if she saw it with her own eyes, it would smack sense into her. She slowly opened each door, seeing if Eddie was on the other side. She breathed a sigh of relief as each door wasn't him, but that meant she was getting closer.

She reached the last door and thought about it in her head. She knew the second she saw it, her heart would be shattered. She already knew but seeing it would be something she couldn't escape from.

She slowly opened the door, her breath caught in her lungs as Eddie had a random girl bent over the bed. He was behind her, pushing her head down as he fucked her from behind. He was mean and harsh, two things he never was with her. His hands smacked the girl's skin and he yanked her hair. He didn't even look at her, just watching his cock buried in her.

Y/N quickly shut the door and raced down the steps. She saw what she needed to see.

~~~

Y/N decided to put space between them. She wasn't going to chase after him and wasn't going to be caught up in his sweet words. She couldn't keep playing into the what-ifs because it was never going to happen. It didn't matter how many times they had sex and cuddled until the next morning, he was never going to change.

It was the first party with her new plan in mind. She wore a sexy dress and took time on her makeup. She was going to have fun and not worry about him. She wasn't going to search for him and ask to go home with him. The sex was still amazing, so she wasn't going to give that up. But she wasn't going to act like there was anything more.

She spent most of her time talking with Robin, someone new she met. She liked Robin a lot and enjoyed her sarcastic chatter. She was so caught up in talking with Robin that she never noticed Eddie staring her down.

Eddie wasn't sure why it bothered him so much to see her talking with someone else. The way she was so invested and how her eyes never looked away to look for him.

He almost felt embarrassed when he walked up to her and she didn't even flash a smile. A blank look on her face as she turned to face him. Eddie felt anger in his bones when she turned back to Robin and gave him her phone number. Robin blushed and walked away, waving as she disappeared into the crowd. Eddie hated that her attention was on someone that wasn't him. But he snapped back into what he knew best.

He ignored the sting when she didn't smile or greet him. But he continued anyway.

"Ready to get out of here?" He asked, she nodded and walked right past him, his open hand ignored.

~

"So fucking beautiful, baby girl." He moaned, her back against his sheet as he fucked into her. She clawed at his back, moaning as he went deeper and deeper.

She tried not to smile at his words, reminding herself it was just sex.

"Always so good and taking me. My pretty girl." She hated that he looked into her eyes as she came. She closed them as fast as she could to ignore the love he held in them. Because he'd never admit it.

His lips pressed against hers as he came inside of her, soft praises against her skin. More compliments, more words he'd never mean. Words he only said when he was inside of her.

Once he finished cleaning her up, she got up. Eddie watched her confused as she threw back on her dress.

"Wait, you aren't staying?" She almost swore he sounded sad about it, but she brushed it off.

"Work in the morning." She shrugged, but Eddie was even more confused.

"When did you get a job? You tell me everything." He sounded betrayed as he stood up, still naked as he grabbed her hand.

"Tomorrow is my first day, I'll call you about it?"

Then she walked out

And she never called.

~~~

A week passed before he saw her again. She stood talking to that girl again, laughing. Eddie hated the way the girl's eyes glanced Y/N up and down over and over.

"Seems like she's into your girlfriend." A voice whispered into Eddie's ear. He felt himself rolling his eyes.

"She's not my girlfriend." Eddie argued.

"Right...how long have we been hooking up?" Chrissy asked, standing in front of Eddie so he'd look at her.

"I don't know." Eddie shrugged, looking over her as he watched the girl laugh and smack Y/N's arm.

"Two years, on and off. Less since high school ended and less since you met her. And you know the funny part?" Chrissy asked, snapping her fingers. Eddie looked down at her with an annoyed sigh.

"She's the only one you ever take home and stay the night with. The only girl you follow around like a lost puppy. You like her , you might even love her. And she likes you."

"She does?" Eddie hated how fast he reacted. But he never noticed how Chrissy was right. Y/N was the only girl he brought home, the only girl that lay in his bed and woke up with him. Hell, she was the only girl he allowed to face him during sex. The only girl he watched cum, the only girl he came inside of. The only girl he found himself missing.

"She does, and you're ruining it." Chrissy snapped and walked off.

Eddie wasn't sure why she wanted to help him. But she was right.

He interrupted the girl and Y/N again, taking her home and fucking her into his mattress. Chrissy words ringing in his head.

He watched as she got up again, throwing on her clothes.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked Eddie was surprised she talked to him. She barely spoke to him unless she was moaning underneath him.

"Yeah." He said, sitting up as he looked at her.

"Do you ever take any girls here?" She felt stupid for asking but she always wondered about it. She was in his bed every weekend, but what happened during the week?

"Just you." He answered honestly.

"Why?"

"You're special."

She nodded and walked out.

Eddie sighed as he groaned into his hands. He needed to figure out his feelings. He turned off his light and lay down. He grabbed her pillow and brought it to his chest. Inhaling her scent as he thought about her. He missed her. He hated that everything changed. When did she stop caring about him? When did he push her too far?

~~~

Eddie was drunk, sloppy kind of drunk. He's been at this party for three hours waiting for her to show up and she wasn't. He called her over and over, and nothing. He was shit faced by the time she finally texted back.

"On a date, talk later."

Eddie felt like his heart was yanked out of his chest and he was bleeding through his clothes. She was on a date. She was with someone else and Eddie hated it. She stopped smiling at him, she looked at him differently, and she didn't talk to him. She's doing that with someone else.

Then he felt rage. He knew the only person he had to blame was himself, but it was easier to be mad at her. Easier to lie and treat her like she was in the wrong. She ditched him. She changed on him.

He wanted to hurt her just as bad.

~

"Fuck that's it. Yes yes." The girl moaned underneath him, he couldn't even remember her name. His drunk mind pretended it was her.

Eddie tried to ignore the guilt he felt the second he brought the girl home, ignoring the sickness in his gut when she lay in the same spot Y/N did.

He shook the thoughts out of his head as he fucked himself into the girl, looking down at her. He didn't want Y/N to be special. He needed to prove she wasn't special. He closed his eyes and thought about her. Her moans and her hands. He tried to imagine the feeling of her cunt around him.

His orgasm approached faster than he expected. Her name on his tongue as he pulled out and came all the girl's stomach.

The girl scoffed under him, cleaning off her stomach as she shoved him off.

"Who the fuck is Y/N?" She spat, marching out the door and slamming it behind her.

He felt sick to his stomach. This was the one place where he could feel her and he ruined it. He snatched her pillow and screamed when her smell was gone. The cheap perfume of the other girl stained it. He threw it against the wall and screamed louder. He tried to find a spot in his sheets where he could smell just Y/N, but he couldn't. There was nothing left of her here.

He raced to find his phone, punching in her number as he threw on boxers.

"Hello?" Her tired voice cut through the speaker. Eddie was surprised she answered.

"Eddie?" She asked again, but he couldn't speak. Choked sobs coming out as he thought about her.

"I'm coming over."

~~

Eddie raced to the door as she knocked, wrapping his arms around her the second she was inside. He was on his knees and sobbing against her stomach.

"Hey hey, you're scaring me. What's going on?" She panicked. She softly ran her hands through his hair to try to calm him down.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I just missed you and I love you." He sobbed. Y/N tried to hold back her own tears as she comforted him. She went down to her knees and held his face.

"Are you drunk?" She answered her question when she smelled the alcohol on his breath. She should have known none of those words would have come out if he was sober.

"Let's get you to bed." She sighed, removing his arms from her waist.

"I can't go in there." He sobbed and wrapped himself around her tighter.

"In your room? Why?" She asked softly, wiping his tears. He choked on his own words and cried into her. She accepted he wasn't going to talk anymore.

"Room, now." She demanded, she pulled him up to his feet and led him to his room. She pushed him towards his bed as he fell on it.

"See, it wasn't so hard." She smiled, moving his hair out of his eyes as she pulled his blankets up. She sat next to him and wiped his face. Helping him calm down so his breathing would go back to normal.

"Please don't leave me." He pleaded, grabbing her hand.

"Eddie, we can talk when you are sober. I love you and you are killing me. But if you can say all those things when you are sober maybe we can wo-" she cut herself off when she noticed something on the side of his bed.

She leaned down to get a closer look. A bra that definitely wasn't hers.

Just like that, she was reminded why she gave up in the first place.

"You had a girl in here, didn't you? That's why you're sorry?" She snapped, yanking her hand out of his as she stood up.

"It was a mistake!"

"No! The mistake was thinking you meant any of the words you said. I'm special? There's nothing special about me. If there was, I would have been fucking good enough for you." She growled, she couldn't believe she was dumb enough to crawl back to him.

"YOU'RE TOO GOOD FOR ME!" He screamed, he crawled across the bed to grab her hand as she went to leave. "I fucking love you and it scared me. I lived this whole life where I slept with girls and didn't feel a thing. Then suddenly you changed everything. You never left my head. I thought if I ignored it and acted like nothing changed, I'd move on."

"Why did you bring her here? Was she special too?" She cried, hating that the tears went down her face as she looked at him. She almost felt like she won when he admitted no girl was in his bed, that maybe there was a chance he felt something for her. But now she didn't believe anything. The one tiny thing she had over all those girls was gone.

"No she wasn't," Eddie admitted, "it was a mistake."

"WHY EDDIE?" she screamed, sobs in her throat as she demanded he told her the truth.

"I wanted to hurt you. You said you were on a date and I couldn't stand the feeling of being replaced. I felt worthless and I wanted to make you feel the same." It killed him to admit it. He hated that he wanted to hurt her so badly. He hated himself even more knowing he was successful.

"You wanted me to make sure I knew I wasn't anything special?" She asked, hot tears falling off her chin and onto the carpet below.

"Yes." He choked, crying as he watched her yank herself free from him.

"Message completely fucking clear." She snapped, Eddie jumped off the bed as she raced out the door.

"PLEASE IT WAS A MISTAKE. YOU'RE EVERYTHING TO ME!" he screamed after her, she stopped at her car door, turning around as she looked at him. He stood in his front door, sobbing.

"Everything to you? Where was that when you fucked every girl at a party? When you'd ditch me and get a blowjob in the bathroom? When you'd come kiss me and reeked of another girl's perfume? You never loved me. And I sure as hell won't stand here and give you the chance to." She spat.

Eddie watched as she drove off.

He prayed everything was a bad dream. That he would wake up back in his bed next to her. That he could make her coffee and talk about his dreams.

But he woke up,

And she wasn't there.

Tags!

You did not want to be there. The party was in full swing, music blasting from the speakers and your fellow classmates seeming to be having the time of their lives. Parties were never really your scene, your introverted self wanting nothing more than to go home and put on a film for the night. But dating a popular basketball player brought you out of your comfort zone more often than not. While some may think that is a good thing, it was something that seemed to weigh on you more and more. It was never what you wanted, the decisions always being made by Scott. However there was only one good thing about the party tonight. Eddie Munson.

He’d been keeping his distance of course, hanging out with Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington the entire night. But you both couldn’t help but steal glances at each other from across the room. He looked good, ripped jeans with one of his Metallica shirts and his leather jacket. You wanted nothing more than to jump his bones the moment he got you alone. You had secluded yourself on a couch in the living room, next to the makeshift dance floor. You’ve been sipping on one drink the entire hour you’d been there, feeling less and less in the party mood. Your boyfriend seemed to have other plans though. Scott was plastered, irritatingly so. You spent most of the night hiding from him, as you knew how handsy he likes to get when he’s drunk.

As much as you tried to pretend everything was fine with Scott, your ability to fake it was becoming increasingly harder. Especially knowing what you could be having instead. So for the past week you’ve avoided being alone with the basketball star. Ever since that fateful phone call the weekend prior. Scott eventually noticed something was up with you, mostly due to the fact that you hadn’t let him touch you in over a week. Which was why he had done 3 keg stands since he’d been here, on top however many beers he’d consumed. You weren’t exactly sure, but it was the worst you’d ever seen him. Part of you couldn’t help but feel guilty, but a bigger part of you was starting to care less and less.

Another upbeat pop song filled the space of the room when he found you again. Scott plopping down next to you and nearly spilling his full glass of beer onto your lap. You couldn’t help the grimace from adoring your features as he leaned into you, his breath smelling like stale beer. Grabbing the beer out of his hand before it spills everywhere you let out a huff of annoyance as you set it down. You really weren’t in the mood to play babysitter. Scott’s hands that were now free immediately grabbed your hips, pulling you into his side aggressively. His lips then found their way to your neck, the action making your skin crawl. You gently shove him off, but he comes back immediately. Normally you’d let him wear himself out, but tonight everything was coming to a head.

“Scott come on stop, you’re too drunk. Knock it off.”

You can’t hide the irritation in your voice, as he continues pressing sloppy kisses to the exposed skin of your collarbone. You couldn’t hide the semi alarmed expression on your face, this newer side of your boyfriend beginning to scare you. He usually would listen if you told him off, but his current state clearly overshadowing any rational thoughts.

“Oh come on y/n. We haven’t fucked in over a week. I have needs.”

Before you can respond his weight is shoved off of you, as you stare in shock as Eddie has him by the collar of his polo shirt. Scott is quick to shove the other male back, stumbling as he did so. He attempts to aim a punch at the brunette but Eddie catches his fist and knocks it away. Scott was good in a fight, but he was too inebriated to do much damage at this point.

“She said to knock it off Scotty. I know you’re stupid but are you deaf too?”

You quickly get up to put yourself between the two males, a clear pissing contest about to ensue if you didn’t stop it. Your back is facing your boyfriend, your eyes pleading with your lover to calm down. The entire party’s focus has now fallen onto you, as your face heats up in embarrassment.

“She’s my girlfriend Munson, fuck off.”

You can feel Scott’s hot breath against your neck, as his hands wrap around your waist to pull you further into his chest. Eddie is furious, his jaw clenching so hard you can see the veins pulsing in his neck. If you weren’t in this current predicament you’d find it so sexy. But you’re far too panicked to focus on that right now.

“Doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want you to fucking touch her, no means no dickhead!”

You can see Jason pushing through the crowd now, Steve hot on his heels. The last thing you needed was this to get more out of hand. But the crowd was just itching for a bigger fight to break out. The whole atmosphere of the party had shifted.

“Hey freak! Who even invited you here?”

Eddie didn’t even flinch at Jason’s insult, he was so used to it by now the word didn’t phase him.

“I did Carver, but it seems to me like you need to get your friend here in line. Y/n is clearly uncomfortable.”

Steve has now inserted himself into the tense situation, and you wish you could just disappear. This was the last thing you wanted right now. You glance at Jason who can see the distress on your face. The blonde sighs, putting a hand on Scott’s shoulder. You were quite shocked he was willing to break this up. Normally the pair would egg each other on to keep a fight going.

“Scott come on, just let it go. You’ve had too much to drink.”

Before your boyfriend can protest Jason is tugging him away, feeling tears welling in the corners of your eyes. Eddie hasn’t moved away from you, casually flipping the jocks the bird as they walked away. His focus is now back to you, wishing so desperately he could envelop you in his arms and kiss your tears away. But he couldn’t. Those urges were getting harder and harder for him to fight. Before he can say anything else you’re rushing yourself through the crowd and out the front door. Your fight or flight instincts had finally kicked in, and your couldn’t be there anymore.

Once you reach the threshold you start running. You had hitched a ride to the party with Chrissy, but you weren’t about to try and find her now. You needed to be alone. You ran for almost two blocks before you had to stop, hands on your knees as you try and catch your breath. After taking a minute to get your labored breathing in check you start walking in the direction of your house. While Hawkins wasn’t that big of a city, your house was at least a couple miles from the party. Walking didn’t sound like the most ideal plan, but you didn’t give yourself much of a choice. There was no way you were going back in there now. You can only imagine the rumors that will be floating around the school come Monday.

As much as you tried to put on a brave face, you cared too much about what others though about you. You could already hear the insults that would be thrown your way, the tears steadily falling now. A cool breeze whipped your hair from your face, making you wrap your arms tighter around yourself to stop a shiver. Thankfully you had forgone the usual skirts or dresses you adored in favor of a sweater and jeans. Hearing a vehicle approaching you on the street, you didn’t think twice until it stopped next to you. Glancing out of your peripheral you cursed quietly. You would recognize the van anywhere, having found yourself in the back of it more times than you could count. The window is cranked down as you slowly continue to walk, the van keeping pace with you.

“Y/n!”

Eddie calls your name, but you keep your eyes trained on your feet. The tears were steadily streaming down your face now, ruining your mascara. While the brunette had seen you cry before… it was for a completely different reason. This made you feel even more vulnerable, and you hated it. He continued to plead your name, until you finally stopped in your tracks. The van squeaked to a stop, as you heard the door open and close with a slam. You saw his white sneakers first, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt his fingers tip your chin up.

“Y/n, look at me please.”

His tone is beyond sweet and concerned, and it makes your heart skip a beat. Your eyes flutter open, blinking away some more tears until he comes into focus.

“There she is…”

His hands are warm as they cup your cheeks, wiping any tears that remain. Eddie gently pulls you into his arms, holding you until you’ve mostly calmed down.

“Will you please let me drive you home?”

You shake your head, but walk around to the passenger side of the vehicle anyway. Eddie looks confused but scrambles to follow you, pulling the door open for you and helping you inside.

“I don’t want to go home.”

You explain once he climbs back into the van, pulling back onto the road. As much as you originally thought you wanted to be alone… being tangled up with him sounded like a much better option.

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You had never been to Eddie’s trailer. This was the one place that he had never taken you to. He seemed nervous as he led you through the living room. His uncle had already left for the night shift, meaning the two of you would have complete privacy. He gave you a moment in the bathroom to collect yourself, and clean up the black streaks that had run down your cheeks. Opening his bedroom door you couldn’t help the small smile from gracing your features. It was a little messy— something you expected. You couldn’t help but take in all the posters adorning the walls, Metallica, Slayer… and one handmade one. Corroded Coffin. You knew Eddie was in a band, but you’d never had the opportunity to hear him play before. It was something you would love to do, if given the chance.

He was quiet as he shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over the chair in the corner of the room. Your fingers trailed along the top of his desk, removing your purse and setting down on the surface. This felt more intimate, letting you see a piece of him that not many did. Only people he trusted did he let get this close. Suddenly feeling too warm in the small room you remove your sweater, pulling it over your head. It joins Eddie’s discarded jacket, leaving you in only your bra and jeans. You finally glanced over at the male. He was watching you curiously, as you began unbuttoning your jeans. You shimmy out of them, kicking them to the side. Feeling bold you stroll over to the brunette’s dresser. You can feel his eyes boring into your back, as you rummage through his drawers. Once you had found what you were searching for you smiled.

Unclipping your bra you let it join the rest of your discarded clothes on his floor. Pulling Eddie’s worn hellfire shirt from the drawer and slipping it over your head. It smells like his cologne and laundry detergent, humming as his scent engulfs your senses. You decide to leave your panties on, as you turn around to face him. His chocolate hues are wide, the sight of you in his clothes making him feel things he’d be too scared to admit out loud. You saunter towards him, climbing into his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. You can’t stop yourself once you connect your lips together, the action snapping Eddie out his trance. His hands find the curve of your hips, grasping the fabric of his shirt in his fists.

You are in desperate need of some friction, grinding your clothed heat against his crotch. He’s already hard, but after watching you strip in front of him could you really blame him? He’s groaning into your mouth, but pulling away much to your dismay.

“Slow down sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

The look he’s giving you makes your insides melt, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. Feeling the weight of what happened back at the party crash back over you, it squashes any urge to finish what you had just started. You’re willing yourself not to cry again as he gently lifts you off his lap to lay on his bed. Eddie is pressing a kiss to your forehead, getting up and stripping down to his boxers. Turning out the lights he joins you again immediately, maneuvering you both so he’s spooning you. You can still feel his clothed erection pressing into you, and you can’t help but feel terrible. You’d left not one, but two guys pent up and sexually frustrated tonight.

“I’m sorry… for everything tonight.”

You whisper in the darkness, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“Hey, don’t do that. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

You nod, but the guilty feelings inside of you don’t cease. Eddie is nuzzling his face into your neck, his breath tickling the skin there. You can’t help the small laugh from escaping you, attempting to shift away from him. He quickly realized what he did, pulling you closer and repeating the action. Soon his hands had left your hips to trail up your sides, the action making you squirm as your laughter filled the room.

“Eddie! S-Stop!”

You try to get out between your fits of laughter, and he finally lets up so you can breathe. Due to your thrashing around you’re now face to face. You can barely see him due to the darkness in the room but you can tell he’s smiling.

“I like making you laugh. It’s cute.”

He admits, almost shyly. It makes your heart beat faster, afraid due to his proximity that he could hear how loud it was. Eddie makes no mention of it though, but a small chuckle leaves him. You can’t help but reach out for his face in the darkness, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I never thanked you for earlier… and for letting me stay the night. I really appreciate it.”

His warm hands had fallen to your hips again, but he didn’t try to tickle you again. For which you were relieved. Eddie’s lips searched for yours in the darkness, leaving kisses all over your face in his fumbling to find your lips. Another giggle escapes you from the tender gesture. His ability to make you feel so safe was so new to you. But you didn’t want to the feeling to end. You didn’t want any of this to end, but you were afraid Eddie was going to realize he deserved better. That he didn’t deserve to be someone’s secret. But the more you time you spent with him… the more you didn’t want to keep him a secret.

“Anytime sweetheart.”

You let yourself snuggle against him, limps tangled together. With your head against his chest you could hear his steady heartbeat in your ear. It was that and the sounds of his even breathing that lulled you to sleep.

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The sun streaming through the curtains is what woke you, a sigh falling from your lips as you attempted to stretch out your stiff limbs. When you felt a stirring beneath you, your eyes flew open as the events of last night trickled back in. The party, Scott being an asshole… Eddie coming to your rescue. If you weren’t currently laying on top of him, you might have let yourself be convinced it was a dream. That Eddie just took you home. But to your relief, it wasn’t a dream. You let your body still, in an attempt to not wake the metalhead that was sleeping peacefully beneath you. At some point during the night you must have gotten yourself into this position. Laying on his chest, his arms securely wrapped around your waist.

It was honestly the best sleep you’ve gotten in a long time, and you wished you could stay like this forever. Wrapped up in him, and only him. Lifting your head up gently you studied his face, a small smile gracing your features. Faint freckles dotted his nose and cheeks, his long lashes fanning over them. His dark curls were wild from sleep, sticking out in every direction. His pouted lips were slightly chapped, but kissable all the same. Eddie was honestly too pretty for his own good… it truly wasn’t fair. His breathing was even, small snores slipping out every once in a while. You continued to watch him sleep for a while longer, silently scolding yourself. You were falling more and more for Eddie Munson each day, and you knew you couldn’t keep this up. You had to end things with Scott.

As much as you wanted to stay snuggled up with him, your body had other needs. You didn’t exactly know how you were going to get yourself up without disturbing him. But your bladder was in desperate need of relief. A small sigh left you, as you shimmed further down his body. Your legs on either side of his hips, a squeak of surprise leaving your lips as you felt his hard on through his boxers. It shouldn’t have been that big of a shock to you, morning wood was normal right? But between your squirming and noises he began to stir again. A soft moan left his mouth as you accidentally pressed yourself down onto his boner in an attempt to get off of him.

“Mm.. where do you think you’re going doll?”

His voice was thick with sleep, an octave lower than normal and it made heat shoot between your legs. Cursing quietly you glanced up at him, those chocolate hues gazing back at you. Eddie’s hands grasped your hips, keeping you in place as you tried to climb off of him again. Your cheeks were flushing as his eyes darkened as he looked you over, straddling him and wearing his shirt. When he lifted his hips to grind you against him, you couldn’t stop the whimper from leaving you.

“E-Eds hold on. I have to pee.”

You mumbled, feeling embarrassed as his hips stilled. Neither of you wanted to stop what was happening. He just let out a little laugh, his hands releasing your hips as you quickly scrambled off the bed.

“Alright, I guess I’ll allow it. Just hurry back sweetheart.”

Your heart warmed at the sight of him, leaning down and pressing a small kiss to his mouth before you booked it to the bathroom. Feeling much better after you finally relieved yourself, you washed your hands before quietly slipping out of the bathroom and back into Eddie’s bedroom. You weren’t sure if his uncle had come back from work yet. Frankly you’d be mortified if the first time you met him was with you clad in only Eddie’s shirt and your panties. So you closed his bedroom door behind you slowly, letting it quietly click into place. Turning back around to face him, and leaning against the door. Eddie is in the same spot you left him, only now he’s leaning halfway up on one elbow. That hunger hasn’t left his eyes, now beckoning you over to him with his index finger.

Looking at his fingers made you clench your thighs together, knowing all the wonderful things they were capable of. Biting your bottom lip as you slowly approach him, stopping once you’ve reached the edge of the mattress. Eddie’s fingers ghost over the skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake. They continue up, until he’s grasping your panties and sliding them down your legs. You step out of the material, eyes glancing back up to meet his.

“Come here.”

It was spoken softly, but the command in his voice makes your knees wobble. You want him too badly to disobey, easily climbing back onto his lap. This wasn’t a position you’d dabbled in much, but you can see from the lust swirling in his eyes that he wants it. And he wants it badly. At this point you’d give him the moon and the stars if he asked you to. Eddie is painfully hard, his hips moving up to meet yours once you’ve settled yourself on top of him. You bite your lip to keep a moan from slipping, the fabric of his boxers rubbing against you. He takes your lower lip from between your teeth with his thumb. You can’t stop yourself from slipping the digit past your lips, sucking on it.

“Fuck, don’t you dare hold those pretty sounds back doll.”

Eddie groans louder as you continue to suck on his thumb, removing it from you as a pout formed on your lips.

“Don’t start, or I’ll give you something to pout about sweetheart.”

The hint of the threat makes your whimper, grinding your hips down against him harder. You can feel how wet you’re making the fabric of his boxers, Eddie rocking his hips up to meet yours. If you were weren’t so turned on right now you might be embarrassed by the realization. As you go to remove his shirt from your torso he stops you, a questioning look on your face.

“N-No keep it on please. Wanna see you riding me in it.”

You feel your cheeks flush again, but remove your hands from the fabric. Eddie’s hand slips between your bodies, cupping your core. His digits slip between your slick folds, finding your bundle of nerves too easily. He somehow seems to know your body like the back of his hand, knows exactly how turn you into a dumb moaning mess. His calloused fingers feel so good against you, continuing to grind yourself against them. Soft moans are falling from your lips, head thrown back as he continued to work you up.

“Eddie please.”

You cry out, not exactly sure what you need. All you know is that you need more.

“Gotta use your words sweetheart, tell me what you want.”

With a huff you tug his hand away from your body, surprising both of you when you free his cock from his boxers. Normally Eddie would have made you cum at least once by now, but you can’t wait anymore. You need to feel him inside you. As you are about to sink down onto him, he stops you.

“Hold on doll, need a condom.”

Eddie keeps you on his lap, reaching over into his night side table. He’s frantically searching for one of the foil packets when as you blurt it out.

“Don’t want it… I want to fuck me raw Eds.”

That stops him in his tracks, his eyes widening in almost disbelief. You suddenly feel nervous, praying you didn’t just ruin everything with your words.

“Are you sure y/n? I-I wouldn’t want to risk…”

He trails off, licking his lips as he looks at you with a now guarded expression. Biting your lip you nod, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“I’m on the pill… I want you to be the first one to do it Eddie.”

The groan that he lets out makes your head swim, the implication of your words only making him want you more. Scott never got to do this. This was something that would be his, and his alone. His hands are threading through your locks so he can turn you to face him. Eddie crashes his lips against yours, the desperation behind them telling you his answer. But you also want verbal confirmation, pulling away from his lips to sit back up. Your confidence grows as he’s panting beneath you, a smirk adorning your features. Eddie’s hips attempt to grind up into yours, but you push back on them to stop him.

“Come on handsome. Gotta tell me what you want. Use your words.”

Eddie’s brain nearly short circuits as you use his former words against him, curses tumbling from his lips as you slowly grasp his cock in your hand. Rubbing it through your folds but not breaching the entrance just yet. You need to hear him say it. A soft moan escapes you from the friction, Eddie hands gripping your ass.

“God I wanna come inside you so bad sweetheart.”

You hum in approval, leaning back down to press a sloppy kiss to his mouth. Eddie instantly reciprocates, his tongue working it’s way into your mouth. Sucking the muscle into your mouth you gently pull away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you as you sit up completely. Eddie is cursing again, his hands gripping your ass harder.

“Fuck— come on doll please.”

Hearing Eddie Munson begging is what finally broke your resolve, slowly sinking down on his cock. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve had him, he always makes you feel so full. This time feels different though, you can feel each vein and ridge of his cock, the feeling making you cry out. Once he’s fully sheathed inside you, you rest your palms on his bare chest.

“God you feel so tight. Such a good girl for me.”

Eddie’s head is thrown back into the pillow, his praise making you beam in delight. Once you’re used to the feeling of him inside you again, you start lifting your hips slowly. Letting him nearly slip out of you before lowering yourself again. Your eyes watch as his face contorts in pleasure, hiding those beautiful irises from you.

“Eddie… baby. Look at me.”

The pet name slips out too easily, as his eyes instantly snap open to focus back on you. His chocolate hues are nearly black, watching as you continue to sink down on his cock. If he could watch you ride him all day, he would. However your slow pace is starting to drive him insane, as he begins bucking his hips up into you. A moan gets caught In your throat as he hits your deepest point, eyes rolling back in your head. Seeing your reaction he keeps repeating the action, your chest heaving.

“You look so pretty with my cock inside you.”

Any thoughts of being quiet flew out the window the moment he spoke. A loud moan ripping from your throat, filling the space of his bedroom. His words making you clench around him tightly, you lived for his praise. Your eyes flutter open to look at him, a smug look adorning his features. God he looks so good like this, you never imagined you’d love seeing him beneath you so much.

“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl…”

You nearly came at the sound of that, knowing how desperately you wanted to be his girl. You reach for him, pulling him up so your chests were pressed together. Your lips find his instantly, tangling your hands in his already wild locks. Eddie’s hand travels between you, to start rubbing at your clit. You feel the tightening in your belly, knowing you weren’t going to last much longer. Eddie could tell, your breathy whining and cunt clenching around him is making sure he’s not too far behind you. The sound of the mattress squeaking beneath you should make you embarrassed, but it only seems to add to experience.

“Fuck— Eddie I’m gonna c-cum.”

Eddie begins circling your clit faster, whilst simultaneously bucking his hips up into you. Your thighs are burning with the effort, but you don’t dare stop now. One more brutal thrust into your cervix has you seeing stars, a loud cry of his name leaving your lips. You legs were shaking, finally giving out but Eddie continues to fuck you until he meets his end. The warm sensation of his cum painting your inner walls, combining with his moaning only intensifies your orgasm. You watch him falling apart, which has easily become one of your favorite sights. With one final thrust he stops, chest heaving as he presses your lips together again.

You sigh contently into his mouth, as he gently pushes you back onto the mattress. The movement removes him from you, whining as you feel his cum beginning to drip onto the sheets. He’s kneeling in front of you now, spreading your legs open so he can see the mess he’s made. Eddie’s eyes are still blown wide with lust, taking his fingers to push his cum back inside you. You’re feeling overly sensitive, thighs lightly trembling as his fingers keep his cum inside you. But he pulls away before he can work you up too much more, pressing multiple kisses to your shaky thighs.

“Fuck that was so hot…”

You nearly whine as he gets off the bed, hushing you with a soft kiss. Eddie slips out of his bedroom, before returning moments later with a damp wash cloth and a glass of water. He’s back between your legs, gently cleaning you up. Tossing the dirty rag in his laundry basket he helped you sit up, handing you the glass of water. His sweet actions make your insides feel all warm and fuzzy. After taking a good couple drinks you set the glass on his bedside table. He’s smiling fondly at you, that same look flashing across his eyes again. The one you saw the week prior… the one he seems to give you almost every time you’re together now. But he’s quick to try and hide it again, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. But it was already too late, you’ve seen it and you can’t help but want to know what it means for him.

“You hungry? I’m not the best cook… but I can whip you up some eggs and toast?”

You smile at him again, nodding your head as he gets up to hand you a pair of his sweatpants to wear. Glancing down at the ground you attempt to look for your discarded panties, only to come up short.

“Eddie? Have you seen my panties?”

Eddie has now pulled on a new pair of boxers and a shirt, a small smirk stretching across his lips. He doesn’t respond, but you see the black lacy fabric clutched in his fist.

“These are mine now sweetheart.”

Your face flushes as he chuckles, tucking them away in his bedside table. You pull his sweatpants up your legs, lightly swatting his chest as you stand. Eddie just laughs, pulling you into arms and kissing you. Once he pulls away and leads you through the trailer theres only one thing on your mind.

Scott has got to go.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

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It had started out as mostly a joke, a proposition that he never imagined you’d actually take him up on. You always thought Eddie Munson the town ‘freak’ was incredibly attractive, not that you’d ever voice your thoughts to anyone. Especially due to the fact that you had a boyfriend, who in the eyes of everyone else was the definition of perfect. Scott McGuire was the ideal boyfriend… on the surface. He was on the basketball team, friends with some of the most popular kids in school. You began dating halfway through your junior year and initially you were smitten with him.

But after a year of being with him, you’d realized he was nothing you had wanted in a partner. He was arrogant, vain and sometimes down right cruel to others. Especially Eddie, joining in on his best friend Jason’s constant tormenting of the male. It made you incredibly sad. But you felt like you couldn’t break up with him. Your parents absolutely adored him, so did your friends. But he was the worst partner you could’ve landed, especially when it came to sex. Scott was terrible in bed. The only time he wanted you was on his terms and he’d never achieved at making you orgasm. Not once. But that was how you got yourself in this predicament in the first place.

You were at a party, a celebration for the basketball team making it to state. Initially you wanted to stay home, but knew it would look bad if you did. So you went, playing the role of the doting, proud girlfriend well. It had become second nature to you at this point. Some point during the night Scott had pulled you into a random person’s bedroom, with the promises of rocking your world. It was nothing of the sort, the fake moans you let out seeming to convince your boyfriend that you were enjoying yourself. But when the door swung open and a semi-tipsy Eddie Munson stumbled upon the scene you couldn’t help but be embarrassed. His chestnut eyes widening in alarm at what he had just walked in on.

Scott didn’t even notice the intrusion as he continued to fuck you, your fake moans continuing to fill the room. Your eyes locked on the alarmed ones of Eddie as he stood frozen in the doorway. The two of you just stared at each other for a few moments before he snapped out of whatever stupor he was in, quickly leaving the room. You figured nothing would come from it, except for a new found embarrassment every time you saw him in class. But what you didn’t expect was for him to seek you out in study hall that next Monday. You were in the library, searching for a new book to read when he cornered you. His curls were wild, those pretty eyes looking right through you.

“You know, I’ve seen better acting in porno’s.”

He spoke softly, as not to embarrass either of you. Or alert Ms. Hall the school librarian. She was such a hard ass, especially when it came to talking in the library. You felt your face flush, actively avoiding his curious gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Munson…”

You quickly turn on your heel, clutching the newest copy of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark closer to your chest as you tried to escape the conversation. He didn’t let you get very far though, trailing behind you and taking a seat next to you at one of the many tables.

“I just mean it must be frustrating faking it all the time…”

Your silence and flushed appearance spoke the words you couldn’t admit to, fiddling with the hem of your dress. Eddie’s breath fanned over your face as he leaned closer, the smell of his cologne and a faint hint of cigarette smoke engulfing your senses.

“Doesn’t seem fair… any good guy would make sure you were being treated well.”

You could feel his body heat due to the close proximity, biting your lip to stop yourself from leaning back into him.

“He does treat me well.”

You whisper back, glancing down at the book as you let your hair create a barrier between you. Eddie scoffs at the notion, gently taking your hair and brushing it over your shoulder again. The small touch made you shiver, as the male leaned closer to your ear again.

“If you want to know what it’s like to be properly taken care of… you know where to find me sweetheart.”

The promise behind his words instantly make you clench your thighs together, as he quickly gets up and strolls out of the library. Those words sat with you for days, as you couldn’t shake how badly you wanted him. It seemed so wrong, you had a boyfriend for christ sakes! But at the same time there was something so right about it. That was how you ended up in the back of Eddie’s van, your legs flung over his shoulders as he fucks you into oblivion. It started off as a once a week thing, on Sundays when you could give Scott the excuse of going to church with your parents.

But the more orgasms Eddie gave you, the more insatiable you became. Till it was almost a daily occurrence that you were under him, begging him to make you come over and over again. Due to your growing need for him, Eddie didn’t exclusively fuck you in the back of his van anymore. You were currently on your hands and knees on the twin bed in your bedroom. Eddie pounding into you at a ruthless pace.

Your parents were gone for the week on another business trip, leaving you with the house to yourself. That Saturday morning you woke up feeling hornier than you could imagine, calling the metalhead up and begging him to come by. While Eddie had plenty of sexual partners before, you were by far the neediest of them all. He couldn’t deny that he loved it, knowing he was the only one who could turn you into a crying, blubbering mess. Not even seemingly perfect Scotty McGuire could make you feel this way. Eddie would pay to see the look on his face if he could see just how wrecked you were. Begging the town freak to fuck you harder.

“Look at you, such a needy little slut. Couldn’t even wait a whole day for my cock huh?”

Eddie was by far the biggest guy you’ve ever had, reaching places inside of you that you didn’t know existed. You were at a loss for words as he continued his hard thrusts, pathetic cries the only thing you could manage in that moment. Your pussy was gripping him tightly, your arousal dripping down your thighs.

“Aww, come on sweetheart. Use your words, tell me who is making you feel so good.”

Eddie immediately slows his thrusts at your silence. Your orgasm that had been building up for the past half hour fizzling out. You nearly cried in defeat, the male landing a harsh slap to your ass. You knew the rules by now, knowing Eddie needed to hear you.

“Y-You… fuck you are Eddie.”

He hummed in response, his pacing starting to pick up again as the phone on your bedside table rang. You fully intended to ignore the shrill ringing as you ground your ass back against him. But he gripped your hips tightly to stop the movement.

“Answer it.”

Your eyes widen as you whip your head around to look back at him bewildered. There’s a smirk playing on his lips as he lands another slap to your ass.

“That wasn’t a suggestion sweetheart.”

You quickly fumble for the phone, not wanting this to end. Knowing it would if you didn’t do as you were told. Putting the receiver to your ear you try to calm your erratic breathing.

“H-Hello?”

You mentally curse yourself for the way your voice shakes, feeling your stomach drop at the voice on the other end of the line.

“Y/n, you alright babe? You sound winded.”

What you didn’t expect was for Eddie to start fucking you again, not too quickly though. Biting your lip so hard you almost break skin you laugh, the sound not at all genuine. But Scott couldn’t tell the difference, he never paid enough attention.

“Yeah, I’m fine Scott. J-Just got done with some pilates.”

You hear Eddie laugh quietly behind you, both of you knowing damn well you would never willingly do pilates. He’s learned more about you in a few weeks than Scott has tried to in a year. His thrusts are getting deeper, slipping a hand around you to start rubbing at your clit. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly you want the ground to swallow you whole, or at least the male on the phone to hang up.

“Sounds hot. You coming by the party still tonight?”

Your eyes nearly roll back in your head as Eddie’s ramming into that sweet spot inside you. It took everything in your power not to moan loudly into the receiver. Eddie knew it too, grabbing you by your hair to pull you flush against his chest. The new angle allows him even deeper, a little gasp escaping you. You quickly cover it by clearing your throat, before answering your boyfriend.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Listen Scott, I-I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight.”

You hang up the phone before he can respond, a loud moan ripping itself out of your throat. You can feel Eddie’s curls tickling your face as he leans toward your ear.

“Bet he didn’t suspect a thing, cause he can’t make you feel like I can. Can he sweetheart?”

You frantically nod your head, letting it fall back into his shoulder. You can’t hold out for much longer, and you know Eddie won’t either as you feel him twitching inside you. His lips attach themselves to the curve of your neck, leaving some marks behind in his wake.

“Eds… f-fuck I’m gonna cum.”

He nearly growls as you cry out his name again and again, your orgasm crashing over you. Eddie quickly follows you over the edge, continuing to fuck you through both of your highs. If his arms weren’t holding you back against him, you would’ve collapsed face first into the mattress. His movements are gentle now, sliding out of you and laying you on your back. The only sounds now engulfing the space were of your heavy breathing. As good as the sex he gave you was, what came after was just as enjoyable.

Emotionally, your boyfriend was always unavailable. Especially after sex, he never held you or comforted you. Part of you expected the same thing from Eddie, as you had never experienced aftercare before. The first time you ever had sex you tried to put your clothes back on right away and leave. But he stopped you, letting your head rest on his chest and keeping you tucked in his embrace for hours. From then on it was the same treatment, his affection for you only increasing the more you fooled around. Your eyes followed him as he went to toss the condom in your trash bin, the male finally taking the opportunity to look around your room.

You suddenly felt nervous, as he started flicking through your record collection in all his naked glory. While you had always been apart of the ‘in’ crowd due to your dating Scott, you always seemed to feel out of place among them. You could never fully show your true self, in fear of the rejection from your peers. Eddie seemed to find a record that he liked, sliding it out of its sleeve and putting it on. Soon the sounds of the Labyrinth soundtrack filling your room. You couldn’t help but blush, not expecting him to choose that album in particular. Scott always made fun of you for your love of David Bowie, always complaining how weird he was. But now Eddie had proved once again that he was far superior to Scott in every way imaginable.

The brunette slipped his boxers back on before joining you on the bed again. A small giggle escaping you as he squeezed you together on your twin sized mattress. You were basically on top of him due to the limited space. Head resting on his chest, happily listening to his steady heart beat in your ear. Feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head you sigh contently. In moments like this it was easy for you to imagine that Edward Munson was all yours. No worries about what anyone else in this god forsaken town had to say about it. The more time you spent with the metalhead the more you wanted him all to yourself. You knew it was beyond selfish, and you wouldn’t dare voice your feelings to him.

“You feeling okay? I’m sorry if I got a little too rough.”

His tone was much softer from how he’d spoken to you earlier, and the stark difference made your head spin. Eddie’s hand gently rubbed your slightly sore ass, the other lightly ghosting over the curve of your spine. The tenderness of his actions made you shiver, nuzzling your face further into his chest.

“I’m so good Eddie. I really liked it… I don’t mind when you’re rough like that.”

Gentle, rough or anything in between, you’d be grateful as long as it was with him. You were sure he could feel the heat deepening on your cheeks, his hand gently tipping your head up to meet his chestnut hues. There was a look simmering in them that you hadn’t seen before, one that made butterflies erupt in your stomach. You were both leaning in before you realized it, lips pressing together tenderly. This was something new, while you’d kissed him plenty of times now it was never after the sex had ended. This was dangerous, but you couldn’t help yourself. As much as you tried to avoid the thoughts, you knew you were starting to falling for him.

Your lips continued to move against each others for what felt like forever. Kissing Eddie Munson was just as addicting as every other part of him. After laying together for hours, stealing kisses and just talking he eventually had to leave. You felt the tug on your heart as you walked him to your front door, desperately wishing the circumstances were different. You pressed another searing kiss to his lips as he held you tight against his chest before he unwittingly let you go. You watched as he walked down your sidewalk, getting in his van and driving away. Taking a little piece of your heart with him.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

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10:32.

It’s a more than reasonable time to wake up, but on Sundays Eddie generally doesn’t like to rouse before midday, usually sleeping through the worst of his hangover, only clambering out of his pit of a bed when the urge to pee becomes all consuming.

With a groan he rolls onto his back, calloused fingertips picking the crusts of sleep from the corner of his eyes. His head pounds in time with his heartbeat, his mouth ash dry, the faint taste of tequila and vomit lingering on his tongue. He knew he’d regret it the second Harrington had slammed the expensive glass bottle down on his kitchen counter.

𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍

Eddie was already two beers in when Steve had arrived home. Sat in the living room, sandwiched between Robin and Nancy on the couch, he half-listened to the girls playfully bickering about some pop group, which girl was the best singer, who was the cutest. Eddie had zoned out, not particularly interested in the topic, wishing Steve would hurry up and get home. He was grateful at least for the Harrington’s working air conditioning, cold air caressing his skin.

Steve had finally burst through the front door, with a cheerful call of “honey I’m home!”. Robin leapt up from her seat, running through to the hall, Nancy and Eddie hot on her heels. Steve grinned from ear to ear, waving the tequila above his head in triumph.

“You got it?” Robin asked excitedly.

“Course I did!” Steve laughed, to a chorus of cheers from the group.

He’d finally caved last year, accepting the offer of a position at his dads company. He hasn’t been all too thrilled at the time, it was a tough enough pill to swallow that he was still living rent free in his family’s old home, staying behind when his parents made the move to Indianapolis. The only perk had been that with them gone, Robin had been free to move in, meaning that Steve didn’t have to wander around the large empty house alone. He’d worked his ass off in his new job, determined to prove that he was worthy of the position, that he had merit of his own. He’d done enough to earn himself a shot at a promotion.

Robin squeals, throwing her arms around Steve’s neck.

“Congrats dingus! I never doubted you for a second!”

“That’s not even the best part.” Steve says, kicking off his shoes and ripping the tie from around his neck, ushering everyone back into the kitchen.

“What’s the best part?” Nancy asks, grabbing four shot glasses from the cupboard above the sink.

“Well this new job requires me to have a PA, someone to handle calls, my schedule, stuff like that.”

“And that’s the best part because..?” Robin says, pulling the bottle from Steve’s hands and wrenching the cork from the top with a low pop.

“Because they told me I can pick whoever I want. So Buckley - the jobs yours if you want it.”

Robin freezes, tequila in hand hovering over the glasses.

“For real?”

“For real.”

There’s a moment of quiet as Robin mulls over the offer, a grin slowly creeping onto her face. She fills each shot to the brim, placing the bottle down on the counter and selecting a glass, holding it high in the air.

“To no more Family Video!”

Eddie laughs, grabbing his own shot, a little of the clear liquor spilling over the side.

“To no more Keith!” He adds, making Robin cackle.

“To Steve and Robin, on to better things.” Nancy says sweetly. The four of them clink their glasses together, then throw back the shots. It burns as it slides down Eddie’s throat, making him wince, but the resulting warmth in his chest isn’t unpleasant. He doesn’t complain when Steve leans over to refill his glass, although he knows he’ll feel it tomorrow.

𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍

Eddies back clicks loudly when he stands up from the bed, his shoulders making similar crunching sounds as he rolls them back, easing out the tension. He grabs the glass of water at his bedside, now warm from the sweltering heat, but he guzzles it down all the same, grunting when some spills from the side of his lips, dripping down to his chest. He runs a palm over his skin to wipe away the liquid, grimacing when he realises his chest is already damp, sweat having matted down the fine hairs sprouting there.

It had been a record breaking summer, the mercury rising steadily since early June, having finally reached its peak in mid August. Throughout the town, the roads and buildings shimmered and danced in waves of heat, the sidewalks and roads cracked and split. In Forest Hills, where most of the residents weren’t fortunate enough to have working air con, they had to get a little more creative in their battle against the sweltering temperatures. The dried lawn outside was littered with shallow plastic tubs and cheap inflatable pools, the kids of the park splashing and shrieking in cool water. They’d called out for Eddie to get in on more than one occasion, but the sight of the murky water, full of grass and mud from the kids bare feet had turned his stomach, and he’d politely declined their offer. He preferred to plug in the noisy electric fan in his room, crawling inside a spare bedsheet and positioning its opening in front of the oscillating blades, so it ballooned out around him, his own fort full of chilled air. Hours were whiled away alone in that sheet, Eddie’s nose buried in a book, or his rough fingertips plucking at the strings of his old acoustic guitar.

Eddie wipes his now sweaty palm on his boxers. He should take a shower, but it’ll be a pointless effort, given that by the time the afternoon rolls around he’ll be slick and musty again. He decides to save it for later, he can wash off the day before climbing back into bed, so he’s at least somewhat fresh for work tomorrow.

Tipping his head forwards, groaning at the throbbing pressure in his skull, he scrapes his hair up to the top of his head, pulling on the elastic around his wrist and wrapping it around his wild curls in a loose bun. A pair of sweatpants is plucked from the top of the pile on the floor, and giving them a quick sniff he decides they’re not offensive enough to warrant a wash just yet, stepping into them and letting them hang loose on his hips, the band of yesterdays boxers poking just above. He yanks a t-shirt over his head, the extra material only adding to the unbearable warmth he feels, but he’s not about to set foot outside of his home with his shirt off.

The slam of a car door comes through the window, followed by laughter. A bright, airy noise, carried on the breeze to fill Eddie’s room. He strains his ears to catch more of the foreign sound.

“Damn it’s hot.” A man drawls, his ‘o’ elongated into an ‘ah.’ Chicago, Eddie guesses. He shuffles over to the window, peering out to the vacant trailer next to his. A rented moving van is parked out front, next to a silver Honda Civic. Illinois plates. He watches the man make his way up the steps of the porch to the open door, followed by a woman a similar age and a young girl.

Eddie turns away from the new neighbours, shuffling through into the kitchen. He fills the coffee pot, grabbing a packet of pop tarts from the back of the cupboard while he waits for it to heat. He doesn’t bother toasting them, just takes a large bite of the stale pastry, sweet artificial strawberry on his tongue. A few crumbs fall to the floor, and he sighs, nudging them aside with his bare foot. He’ll tidy them later. Probably. Two aspirin are swallowed down next, in an attempt to dull the throbbing ache in his skull.

With his breakfast scoffed and a fresh coffee in hand, Eddie wanders to the living room, finding his leather jacket thrown haphazardly over the back of the couch. He pulls his Camels from a pocket, digs around in the other until he finally locates his lighter, then slips out the front door to the porch.

The man outside was right. Damn it is hot. The slight breeze offers some movement at least, even if it’s not particularly cooling it’s better than the still air inside. Eddie spies the splash of vomit splattered across the dirt by his porch, and his stomach churns at the bleary memory of stumbling out of a cab, spewing expensive tequila and cheap beer before he’d even paid the fare.

“Hey Eddie!”

The boy turns, squinting in the sun when he tries to locate the owner of the voice. Lizzie, the young girl from a few trailers down sits in a long patch of grass, her baby brother balanced on her lap, a too large sun hat on his bald head. It keeps slipping down, covering his face, and he squeals with laughter each time Lizzie pulls it back up, just for it to happen again.

“Mornin Elizabeth.” Eddie grins, unlit cigarette clamped between his teeth.

The girl’s smile disappears, replaced with a deep scowl.

“Don’t call me that Edward.”

Eddie chuckles, sticking his tongue out at her, a gesture that she quickly returns.

“You meet the new people yet?” She asks, nodding her head in the direction of the trailer next to his.

“Nah,” he says. “Have you?”

Lizzie nods again, her whispy blonde hair falling into her face.

“They seem nice.” She comments, giving him a smile so wide he can see the gap left by her missing front teeth. She turns her attention back to the baby cooing on her lap.

Eddie retreats back into the shade, lumping down on the old couch. It groans and protests at his weight, but it’s always done that in the sixteen years he’s known it to be out here. It hasn’t broken yet.

From his new position he has a clear line of sight to the trailer, the front door still wide open. That high laugh rings out again from inside, louder now. He rolls a calloused thumb against his lighter, getting enough of a spark to light his cigarette. He’s exhaling a billowing grey cloud when you step out into the sun.

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath that he should be letting out, his lungs burning in his chest. He clutches his palm to his mouth, trying to muffle his splutters, cheeks glowing crimson at coughing like the first time he’d tried a joint.

You don’t seem to have noticed his gasps for breath, hopping down the steps from the door and skipping around the back of the van. Eddie watches you lean inside, your tank top shifting up your lower back, exposing the softness that spills over the top of your shorts. And those shorts, goddamn. The denim strains tight over the swell of your ass, roughly cut off just beneath, indecently short. Eddie’s eyes are locked on the plush of your thighs, the way the smooth skin sticks together from the heat. When you turn he spots a scar on the outside of your left thigh, the skin raised in pale swirls. He swears he can feel his own scars prickle under the thin cotton of his shirt.

Tearing his eyes away from you, Eddie takes a swig of his coffee, the porcelain mug clinking against his teeth. His nose wrinkles in disgust, he’d bought the cheap stuff, and the three heaped teaspoons of sugar he’d stirred in weren’t enough to mask the bitterness.

“Careful Honey. Let me take the heavy ones.” The older man from before jogs across to you, taking the cardboard box from your arms. He struggles back up the stairs, shifting his weight to keep hold of it. When he squeezes through the door way, the woman and girl step aside to let him through.

“Come on then Baby, make yourself useful!” You call, balancing a crate filled with records on your hip. Eddie cranes his neck, attempting to see what’s inside, but he has no luck from this distance. They must be yours, he thinks. The trailer is a carbon copy of his own, just one bedroom, bathroom, a small kitchenette and living room. Not big enough for the whole family, and the other girl, your sister Eddie assumes, looks too young to be living alone.

As you pass out more boxes from the van Eddie stubs out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray, and pushes up from the couch, making his way back inside.

The heat in the trailer is suffocating, the air thick with humidity, pushing back against him with every step he takes. Eddie drains the last of his coffee, adding the mug to the pile in the sink, another job for later. In the bathroom he brushes his teeth, then flips open the cupboard to grab his deodorant. Lifting his shirt just enough to reach under and spray himself, he winces at the sight of the marks littering his sides, faded with time, but still painfully obvious, smooth patches of grafted skin jagged at the edges. He turns away from the mirror.

Back in his bedroom the alarm clock now reads 11:16. He’s still got hours before he needs to leave, heading to Wayne’s for their weekly Sunday dinner. It was a tradition Shannon had been quite insistent on, even when her kids had grown up and left the house they always returned on Sundays, 6pm sharp, for a home cooked meal and conversation. Eddie hadn’t been too thrilled initially when the invitation, the expectation, was extended to him, but now he actively looked forward to it. Shannon was nice, and her cooking was far better than anything Eddie could sort for himself. He always left with a couple of Tupperware's tucked under his arm, leftovers to keep him going for a few days.

He decides to get dressed properly, leaving his shirt but shrugging off the sweatpants and boxers, pulling clean underwear from his drawer and a pair of jeans. The denim wasn't ideal in this weather, but at this point they were almost a part of him, a constant uniform he wore daily.

With little else to occupy his time, Eddie makes a start on tidying his room. It essentially involves shifting piles of stuff from one place to another, rearranging clutter until the room is no less full, but a little easier to navigate. At least he can see the floor again. The worst of the dirty laundry is dumped into a basket, and Eddie balances it on his hip, his other hand collecting the various coffee mugs and cereal bowls, fuzzy green congealed mess in the bottoms.

The laundry tumbles from the basket into the drum of the ancient washing machine, followed by a generous shaking of Tide. Eddie closes the lid, placing a heavy brick on the top, the only thing that stops it from popping open midway through its cycle. It groans and creaks to life, and he leaves it thundering noisily, shaking the shelves on the wall above.

Another twenty minutes is killed by tackling the dishes in the sink, his skin crawling when a lump of what he assumes was once Honeycombs floats in the soapy water and brushes the back of his hand. With the draining rack piled high, a precarious mountain of mismatched porcelain and plastic that threatens to topple at any moment, he finally sweeps up the mess from his breakfast, long brown strands tangled in the brooms bristles.

“Might as well have a pack of dogs living here. Would be the same amount of hair laying around. Wayne used to grumble.

“You’re just jealous because most of yours fell out years ago.” Eddie would tease back, ducking to avoid a playful swat to the back of his head.

Eddie stands in the kitchen, his hands on his hips, surveying his mornings work. He rewards himself with another coffee, dumping in a fourth sugar in the hopes it’ll be enough to make it tolerable. Cigarettes in hand once again, he heads back outside.

You’re stood at the back of the van, your hand hovering over your eyes to shield you from the sun. Eddie takes in the crinkles at the corner of your eyes from your squinting, your warm smile causing the apples of your cheeks to swell. The corner of Eddie’s lips twitch around the cigarette, your smile so infectious his mouth itches to curl into a matching grin, despite the fact you're not smiling at him.

Lizzie’s mom Janet stands barefoot in the dirt opposite you, her chubby baby boy, now without his sun hat, balanced on her hip.

He knows he shouldn’t, but lowering himself onto the couch Eddie strains to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“Lizzie’s quite a handful, at least this one doesn’t give me much trouble.” Janet grins, hopping in place to scoot the baby further up her hip.

“He’s a little cutie. Aren’t you? You’re gorgeous.” You coo, extending your hand to take hold of the baby’s. He wraps his tiny fingers around your pinky, and you giggle, tracing your thumb across the back of his hand.

“Do you need a hand with anything?” Janet offers. “My husband worked last night, but he should be up soon. I can send him over?”

“That’s very kind of you. But we’ll be fine. We’ve not got much left to do now.”

“Okay. Well if you change your mind just knock, that’s us over there.” Janet says, turning to point at her trailer, colourful plastic toys littering the grass out front.

“Thank you. It was nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

You pretend to shake the baby’s hand, making Janet and you laugh, and the woman turns away with a small wave, bouncing the boy on her hip as she heads home.

You turn back into the van, pulling out another box overflowing with kitchen supplies as your family head back out to you.

“This is the last one.”

“So just the bed and the couch left?” The older woman asks.

You nod, passing the box to your sister, hand snatching down to catch a falling whisk before it hits the ground.

“Yep. Dad feeling strong?”

“Of course I am!” Your father says, curling his slim arms up, showing off muscles that aren’t there. Eddie takes in his skinny legs, the paunch of his stomach, his grey shirt clinging to him marked with dark patches of sweat. He doesn’t like his chances.

You’re back in the van now, holding one end of a tattered couch, a hideous floral pattern that would clash with just about anything. Your cheeks glow red with exertion, brows creased. Your Dad is holding the other end, staggering backwards to step down to the ground, your mom calling to him to be careful.

Eddie can hear Wayne’s voice in his head.

Son, you better get off your ass and go offer to help.

He shakes his head to shut Wayne up, flicking his cigarette butt away and heading back inside.

In the living room he can hear your Dads grunts through the open window. Looking out he watches the two of you attempt to force the couch through the narrow doorway, struggling to turn it on its side so it will fit.

“To the left Honey. The left!” He says, and Eddie catches you rolling your eyes, a playful grin on your lips despite the struggle.

“My left or your left dad?”

“Mine obviously!”

Eddie knows he should go offer a helping hand. If Wayne were still here they’d have both been out there as soon as the moving van rolled up. His Uncle might have always been a fairly quiet man, keeping to himself, but he wasn’t one to sit by and watch others struggle. It was the way things worked in Forest Hills, the trailer park etiquette. None of these people had much, most of them living pay cheque to pay cheque, scraping by on the skin of their teeth each month. But everyone was in the same situation, they all had the same struggles, and so it bred a culture of giving up what little extra you had to help your neighbours. It was rarely cash, no one here had enough of a surplus to help each other financially, but there were other ways to offer assistance. Eddie had spent many a weekend checking under the hood of some banger, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, forearms smeared with grease. Wayne had taught him how to fix wobbly cupboard doors, leaking pipes, even patching up Mrs Goddard’s roof when a torrential rain storm brought it down above her kitchen.

So yes, he should be helping you move in, he was more than capable. But Eddie didn’t know you, he hadn’t grown up around your family like he had with the other trailer park residents. They knew him, they knew Wayne, and he was comfortable around all of them. He was used to judgment from the rest of Hawkins, but here, in his own little community he was treated like a normal person. Everyone here knew what it was like to be judged, to be looked down on by those more fortunate, and so they banded together to take care of one another. Even after the events in that fateful spring of ‘86, when Eddie was terrified to leave the park, he never had to worry about his neighbours. They knew him well enough to know that wasn’t capable of hurting anyone.

Eddie was wary of new people, he always had been. He’d dealt with enough shit over the years from people taking one look at him and deciding he was trailer trash, a satanist, a freak. He was terrified you’d take one look at him and jump to the same conclusions.

As Eddie lowers himself into the armchair, a loud cheer comes from outside, the couch must have finally made it into the trailer. His mind rolls back to the bare skin exposed under your top, the round globes of your ass in tight faded denim. He feels a swelling in his jeans, heat flushing his cheeks in embarrassment, although of course there’s no one around to see. He swallows, shifting on the edge of his seat and willing his body to calm down. He was sure he’d feel flustered enough seeing your pretty face around without the memory of jacking off to you replaying in his head.

With noon fast approaching, the heat in the trailer is reaching an unbearable peak. The leather of the chair, cracked and worn from years of Wayne throwing himself down into it after shifts at the plant, sticks to Eddie’s skin, peeking away from the back of his arms whenever he moves. His legs jiggle restlessly, the chain hanging from his hip clinking in time with the quiet ticking of the clock above the front door. He glances around the room for inspiration, something to pass the time and kill the mind numbing boredom. He could call Steve, maybe drive over to his house. He’s sure the boy and Robin are probably making the most of the pool, and the thought of dipping into that cool turquoise water sounds like heaven. He stands, about to head into the kitchen to pick up the phone, when he hears your mothers frustrated hiss from outside.

“John, seriously?”

“Just give me a minute treasure, I know they’re here somewhere.”

“Well you must have had them to take the bed apart.”

“I did. And I know I put them in the car!”

When Eddie steps over to the window, he sees you and your sister stood side by side, giggling at your parents bickering. Your mother has her arms folded across her chest, foot impatiently tapping on the grass.

Your dad emerges from the back seat of the car, looking sheepish.

“I think I left them at home.” He grumbles.

“John-“

“I know. I’m sorry! There must be a hardware store or something in this town.”

“Will they even be open on a Sunday?”

“Mom, stop, it’s fine.” You say, waving your hand dismissively. “I can sleep on the couch tonight and go get a screwdriver tomorrow.”

“Honey, you won’t be able to put the bed together by yourself.”

Eddie chews his bottom lip, listening to the four of you bounce potential solutions back and forth, your mom throwing irritated glares in your dads direction.

Wayne’s voice pipes up in Eddie’s head once again.

Boy, I raised you to help people out where you can.

“Jesus H Christ.” Eddie mumbles to himself, dragging a calloused palm down his face. He grabs his cigarettes, the perfect excuse for slipping back outside, and walks out to his porch once again. Ignoring the couch, he moves to rest his forearms on the rotting wood panels that line the porch. He plucks a cigarette from the small card box, but doesn’t light it, just spins it between his long fingers. He clears his throat as your parents continue to argue.

“You uhh.. you guys need a hand?”

Four sets of eyes swivel to Eddie. He gulps, feeling a bead of sweat roll from his hairline down his cheek.

“Uh yeah, actually we do.” You dad says, taking a step in Eddie’s direction.

“I need to put my daughters bed together, but apparently I uh.. left my tools at home.”

“Whatdya need?”

“Flat head screwdriver ideally.”

“Not a problem, give me a sec.” Eddie says, pushing back from the wood, wiping a splinter from his arm.

“Thanks, appreciate it.”

Eddie nods, ducking back into his home. His work kit is sitting by the front door where he’d dumped it yesterday. He grabs the handle, lifting the heavy plastic box with one hand and heading back out.

He jogs down the steps from his trailer, padding across to you and your family. The scorched grass is warm, scratching the soles of his bare feet.

“Should have what you need in here.” Eddie says quietly, holding the box out to your dad.

“Thanks.” He repeats with a bright smile. He extends the hand not holding the tools out to the boy, and Eddie takes it, the silver chains around his wrist jingling with the firm shake.

“Name’s John.”

“Eddie.”

“It’s actually Edward.” Comes a high pitched call from behind. Eddie glances over his shoulder, seeing Lizzie now sitting back out in the grass, a collection of Barbies keeping her company. She raises her brows and sticks out her tongue, and Eddie bites down on the muscle in his mouth to keep himself from doing it right back again.

“It’s Eddie. Just Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you Just Eddie.” John laughs, letting his hand drop back down to his side.

Your sister leans up on her tiptoes, whispering something in your ear. You giggle again, your eyes roaming across Eddie’s body, and he feels a rush of heat over his skin, more intense than the blazing sun that beats down on him.

“Well thanks again for these.” John says, slapping his palm on the lid of the toolbox.

“We’ll bring em back when we’re done with em.”

“Sure. N-no rush.” Eddie nods, turning back to home.

“Bye just Eddie!”

He’s halfway up the steps when your sister calls goodbye. He looks back over his shoulder to respond, stubbing his big toe on the edge of a step. It sends him stumbling forwards, body half turned the wrong way as he staggers, trying desperately to keep himself upright.

“Fuck - I, s-sorry. Bye.”

Crimson faced he limps as fast as he can, doing his best to ignore the giggling behind him.

“Girls! Stop it.” Your mom chastises.

Eddie slams the door closed behind him, resting his back against the wood, his sweat soaked shirt sticking to his skin.

“Real smooth Munson.” He groans to himself.

“Real fucking smooth.”