Chrissy, she/her, 40s, Sagittarius, multi-fandom writer. I’m a sucker for a love triangle, hell, give me a love square. I write exclusively x reader fics, no y/n.
This blog is 18+, so MDNI!
I’ll give it to you straight, my fics are ALWAYS self-indulgent and, for the most part, not strictly canon-compliant. I’ve been reading and writing fan fiction ever since Buffy, the Vampire Slayer was airing live on the WB (not the CW), but I’ve never really posted anything until recently. People like to ask me what I do with my English degree, and here it is in all its fangirl glory.
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I put a spell on you
Because you're mine
You better stop
The things that you're doin'
I said "Watch out!"
I ain't lyin', yeah!
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, Steve Harrington x Reader, Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham
Summary: A Halloween movie marathon, a costume party, and one game of Seven Minutes in Heaven change everything. Eddie begins to realize how much he's drifted from you, while Steve finally takes the leap he's been avoiding for months. By the end of the night, first kisses are shared, love is confessed, and nothing will ever quite be the same.
Warnings: modern AU, canon divergence, friends to lovers, mutual pining, love triangle (?), angst, yearning, idiots in love, she falls first – he falls harder, AFAB reader, eventual smut, maybe a little bit of codependency, there is no Chrissy hate (she is a plot device), reader has a nickname, no y/n
Word Count: 11,402...I'm a rambler
A/N: I really struggled with this chapter. I hope it doesn't suck, and I hope you enjoy. Feel free to drop a comment if you have any questions or if you just want to talk. I love to hear from everyone.
Series Masterlist
Chapter Four - We’re Going to Be Friends
Spotify Playlist
It’s Chrissy who convinces Eddie that it’s a good idea to go to Steve Harrington’s Halloween movie marathon. He can admit to himself that she is probably tired of hanging out in the trailer listening to him try and perfect yet another Kirk Hammett guitar solo or going to Benny’s to get milkshakes. At least when they aren’t doing other things.
He is a little bit surprised they are even invited.
It’s not like he and Steve are the best of friends. Sure, they hang out in group settings, usually with all the kids, and it isn’t like they are enemies or anything, but Eddie has never actually been to anything at Steve’s house before. He’s never stepped foot inside of Chez Harrington, not even on the occasion that he’s dropped Dustin off after Hellfire. He knows it has to be you that snagged Chrissy and him an invite.
He reasons because you and Steve have gotten quite a bit closer as September turned into October, and Eddie can’t even remember the last time the two of you hung out solo. There was a time where you and Eddie spent almost every waking second together, and now, the last time Eddie recalls seeing you outside of school is when you passed him on the way into Benny’s with Steve and Robin while he and Chrissy were leaving.
As much as Eddie likes spending time with Chrissy – being able to call her his girlfriend, and all the perks that come with that – he fucking misses you. He misses Friday movie nights in the trailer, he misses the pile of your clothes that used to sit at the bottom of his closet, he misses taking late night drives to nowhere where the two of you would just talk about life and listen to music. He’s even had a few nights where he slept with your stupid blanket because for a moment he forgot what you smell like.
It’s a bit pathetic and a bit dramatic, and while yes, he’s pulling the van up Steve’s driveway because Chrissy said that it would be fun to hang out with everyone and watch Michael Meyers kill a bunch of people, he’s also there because he’s a little desperate to see you.
Everyone else’s vehicles line the driveway because, as usual, Eddie is the last to arrive. He parks his van behind Nancy’s old station wagon. Your car is parked next to Steve’s BMW and blocked in by everyone else. You probably arrived early to help Steve get ready. That’s how comfortable you seem to be with Steve, like you were with Eddie, making sure the house is clean, making sure there are snacks, making sure everyone has a seat and knows they’re welcome.
Eddie isn’t sure what to do with how that makes him feel. He’s not exactly sure why it makes him feel anything at all.
Eddie internally rolls his eyes at himself and puts his van in park. He grabs Chrissy’s hand in his own sweaty one as the two of them round the hood and make it up the walkway to the door. He can feel himself fidget a little as they go up the steps.
Who knows what awaits them in Steve’s house. Is the toilet seat going to be made of gold? Is he going to serve caviar instead of popcorn?
“Are you nervous?” Chrissy asks, giving his hand a squeeze.
“What? No,” he tells her a little too emphatically.
“Are you sure? Because you seem a little nervous.”
“Guess I’m just excited to see everyone. It’s been a while.”
Chrissy gives him a sweet smile as they hit the top step.
The door swings open before Eddie can even knock.
“Finally,” Robin begins, stepping aside with a dramatic wave of her hand, “I was beginning to think you got lost.”
“Hawkins isn’t that big, Buckley.”
“That’s exactly why I was worried.”
Chrissy laughs at the exchange as they step inside, and the warmth of the Harrington house hits immediately. The entryway smells like popcorn, pizza, and a hint of chocolate.
“Everybody is in the living room,” Robin says as she turns to guide them.
Eddie shrugs off his jacket and follows the sound of her voice.
The first thing he sees is you and Harrington already lounging on the couch. You are at the far end, elbow propped up on the arm rest, fist pulled up beneath your chin. Steve is sprawled across the rest of the couch, feet dangling across the opposite arm rest, his head in your lap, your fingers running absentmindedly through his hair. You don’t seem to be paying attention to it at all, you’re just doing it. Like you’ve done it a thousand times.
Eddie stops walking.
When the fuck did you start playing with Steve Harrington’s hair? More importantly, when the fuck did Steve Harrington start letting people play with his hair?
Steve notices their arrival first.
“Munson. Cunningham.”
Steve lifts one hand in greeting, but he doesn’t move from where he’s laying. He doesn’t move his head. He doesn’t move away from you.
You glance up from a conversation with Nancy.
“Oh, hey guys,” you say in greeting, but your fingers never stop moving. Something unpleasant twists in Eddie’s stomach at the sight.
“They’re looking particularly chummy,” he says to Robin as she gestures for his and Chrissy’s jackets.
Robin follows his gaze and shrugs, “Looks about the same as when she did it with you.”
The words land harder than they should because she’s right.
For years Eddie has sprawled across couches, floors, picnic tables, and beds all while you’ve played with his hair. It was never something he thought about. It was never something he needed to question. And he never imagined a day when someone else would occupy that space.
Chrissy slips her hand into his and Eddie tries to shake the thought away. He’s here with Chrissy, his girlfriend, and it’s really none of his business if you play with Steve’s hair. You can do whatever you want to do with whoever you want to do it with. It’s not like he’s jealous or anything.
“Come on,” Chrissy says softly.
Eddie blinks, “Yeah.”
She pulls him into the room, and he lets her.
For the most part, everyone is already seated. The younger kids have made a sort of bed on the living room floor with seemingly every pillow the Harrington’s own. The boys are fighting over a bowl of popcorn while El and Max are whispering to each other. Jonathan and Nancy are cuddled up in one of the two loveseats. Robin has gone somewhere with his and Chrissy’s jackets and Vickie asks them if they want anything to drink.
Chrissy gets a Diet Coke and Eddie just shakes his head.
You finally finish your conversation with Nancy and get up to walk over to them, Steve pouting as you shift his head to place it on a pillow.
“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show,” you say as you nudge him with your elbow.
“And miss a chance to scope out Steve Harrington’s house, are you kidding?” Eddie tries to joke, but it lacks his usual flair.
“It is pretty nice,” you concede, “I’m trying to convince him to have a pool party when summer comes around.”
“Ooh, that would be fun,” Chrissy says when Eddie remains silent mainly because he doesn’t know what to say. Apparently you’re also comfortable enough with Steve to commandeer his pool over the summer.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll have to twist his arm too hard. If you two want the other loveseat, have at it. Steve is going to spend most of the night hiding behind me and pretending he’s not scared,” you say, voice getting progressively louder and more pointed toward Steve himself.
“You know I don’t like Michael Myers! And yet still you picked Halloween!” he calls from his place on the couch.
“We’re doing a Halloween movie marathon, Stevie, kinda requires us to show the movie, don’tcha think.”
Eddie’s face screws up a bit when hears you refer to Steve as Stevie. It’s not like it’s the first time, it might be the millionth, but after walking in and seeing you with Steve all up in your lap, it hits a bit differently.
“Anyway,” you continue, “there’s pizza in the kitchen, popcorn if you can wrestle it away from the gremlins. I have brownies in the oven. The bathroom is down the hallway, first door on the right.”
“Thanks,” Chrissy says as Eddie once again remains silent. She guides him through the maze of children to the loveseat and they shift around to find the most comfortable position which ends up with her half in his lap. At least something good is coming out of the night.
He glances around and marvels at how at ease everyone feels in Harrington’s house. The kids obviously feel comfortable enough to scavenge the whole house for their hoard of pillows. Robin answered the door like she owns the place. Vickie is firmly behind the island taking charge of making sure no one perishes from thirst. And you’ve obviously made yourself at home in the kitchen if you’re baking for everyone.
He shakes his head. Of course everyone is comfortable. Everyone loves Steve. Steve’s an okay guy. Eddie really has to stop fixating on it.
It doesn’t take much longer for everyone to get settled. Robin and Vickie end up on the other end of the couch that you and Steve occupy – you, Robin, and Vickie giggling at Steve as he figures out where he best needs to sit to hide behind your shoulder. Eddie would usually find it funny, he would usually join in as you girls called Steve out, but he doesn’t this time. It feels like some sort of inside joke he’s not a part of.
When the movie finally starts, it’s a cacophony of sound. The boys on the floor talk over the opening credits while Nancy shushes them. Max and El are arguing the merits of Twizzlers versus Red Vines. You and Steve are whispering something to each other that he can’t hear.
Everything seems normal, at least there’s nothing abnormal going on, but every time Eddie looks away from the movie, he notices something else. Something else about you and Steve.
You steal handfuls of popcorn from the bowl Steve finally procured and he doesn’t complain. He simply smiles and removes an errant kernel from the sleeve of your sweater. You beam at him.
Steve grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and pulls it over the both of you like it’s nothing and you’ve shared blankets your whole life.
During scary parts, Steve will pull out his phone and show you something so he doesn’t have to look at the television screen, and at not one point do you seem annoyed.
When Eddie became some sort of fucking creeper who can’t help but stare at you while you watch a movie, he’ll never know. All he does know is that he doesn’t like the feeling that he’s being replaced. Because now that he’s apparently doing some critical analysis in his head, he realizes that all of the seemingly insignificant things you’re doing with Steve are things you always did with him, and now that he’s no longer the recipient, they don’t seem so damn insignificant.
At some point during the movie, you get up to go to the kitchen to take the brownies out of the oven.
“Sunny?” Steve calls from his perch on the couch.
“What do you want, Steve?” you ask the question with no edge, just humor in your voice.
“Can you grab me a drink while you’re up?”
“Get it yourself.”
“You’re already up!”
You’re silent for a beat and Eddie watches a grin spread across Steve’s face as he waits.
“What do you want, Harrington?”
“Coke,” he replies, grinning wider like the cat who caught the canary.
“You’re lucky you’re pretty and bought me pizza.”
Robin immediately starts gagging, “You two are disgusting.”
Steve simply flips her off as the room erupts into laughter. It sounds like another inside joke he’s not a part of.
He realizes with a sudden clarity that he really isn’t a part of it, at least not the part that involves whatever is going on between you and Steve — and there’s definitely something going on. He’s not a part of it because he’s been so wrapped up in his new relationship that he hasn’t talked to you, not really, about anything other than Hellfire or trying to align your schedules to hang out in what seems like an eternity.
The two of you used to be able to spend hours talking to each other about everything and nothing all at once – from something as benign as a milkshake you had a Benny’s to getting into the emotional roller coaster that was sharing with each other about your feelings and the stuff that was really going on in your head.
By now, the two of you would have usually had what would end up being an all-night conversation where he drove you down to Lover’s Lake and you’d share a joint on top of a picnic table. He used to think that there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t tell each other, but that turned out to be false. He hadn’t told you about Chrissy. And now it looks like you haven’t told him about Steve.
Not that he thinks you’re trying to get back at him, nothing as petty as that. He thinks it’s something even worse. He’s pretty sure that you don’t trust him with that kind of information anymore or that you’re embarrassed to tell him. He doesn’t care for either option if he’s honest with himself.
If it’s that you don’t trust him with that kind of knowledge anymore, he can’t lie, that will hurt like a bitch. Knowing that he did something that made you have to think about it before you told him something makes his skin itch.
That’s when Eddie catches Chrissy watching him.
She’s not watching you. She’s not watching Steve. She’s watching him. And her expression is unreadable. Feeling guilty and not understanding why, he shoots her a tight smile and glances back toward the television.
When you come back from the kitchen with Steve’s Coke and a brownie that you hand him with a smile, the seating arrangement shifts. You settle in beside him close enough that your shoulders touch. And they stay touching. Neither of you moves. There’s none of the back and forth that happens when people who aren’t comfortable with each other sit too close. Because the two of you are apparently that close. It’s one more thing that Eddie notices and he hates that he notices.
He has no fucking clue what’s going on with his brain. He’s literally cuddled up in a loveseat with the girl of his dreams – a girl he’s crazy about. She’s got her legs in his lap and her head on his shoulders, and he seems wholly incapable of focusing on it. Instead, all he can do is watch every tiny interaction between you and Steve like it’s going to give him the final piece to a puzzle he didn’t know he was trying to solve.
The rest of the movie passes in a blur. The only reason Eddie could tell anyone how it ends is because he’s seen it about a hundred times. He laughs when the others laugh and jumps when the others jump. He nods along when Dustin tries to bring him into a conversation about why Michael Myers is scarier than Freddy Krueger.
Eddie’s body is in Steve Harrington’s living room, but his brain is somewhere else entirely.
The credits finally begin to roll and Steve reaches for the remote to click the TV off. The room immediately erupts into conversation that Eddie is only vaguely a part of. The younger kids are gathering up the pillows and blankets and dutifully putting them back wherever they found them while everyone stretches from having been sat for roughly two hours.
From the couch, Steve lets out an exaggerated groan, “My legs are asleep.”
“That happens when you don’t move for an entire movie,” Robin tells him.
“I was engrossed.”
“You were hiding,”
“Was not!” he argues.
You turn to him with an incredulous look on your face, “You literally used me as a human shield.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You roll your eyes but smile anyway, nudging him gently with your elbow as you gather up soda cans and cups from the coffee table and move toward the kitchen.
“Let me help,” Steve says as he follows after you.
Neither of you seem to think twice about it, but Eddie notices.
You disappear in the kitchen together while Nancy and Jonathan corral kids and Robin and Vickie dole out jackets. It isn’t anything. It’s just dishes. Just cleaning up. Just…something else that Eddie used to do with you without ever thinking twice about it.
After the kids are shuffled off by Nancy and Jonathan, and everyone else has settled back in the living room, Robin shifts the conversation toward tomorrow night – Tina’s Halloween party.
“So, are you excited about Tina’s Halloween party tomorrow night?” Robin asks Chrissy.
“Definitely.”
“Won’t this be your first real party together as a couple?”
Chrissy looks over at Eddie and he nods.
“Yeah, I guess it will,” he supplies.
“It’ll be fun. There’s always some kind of drama at Tina’s parties,” Robin smirks like she wants to be a part of that drama.
The conversation peters out and another Halloween movie is started, but the night ends almost as soon as the movie does. Everyone knows movie nights aren’t as much fun without the kids.
The drive home from Steve’s house is quieter than the ride over. It’s not uncomfortable, but Eddie’s van isn’t used to quiet moments. He has the windows cracked and the radio turned down. Chrissy reaches over and gently pats his arm.
“I had fun tonight.”
Eddie smiles, “Yeah?”
“Uh huh.” She gives him a pretty grin, “I like your friends. They’re nice.”
“They’re something, that’s for sure.”
They drive another block before Chrissy speaks again.
“I think Steve likes Sunny.”
Eddie glances over, “You think?”
She gives him an incredulous look, “Eddie.”
“What?”
“They shared a blanket the entire night. He was practically glued to her side.”
“They’ve gotten close,” he admits.
“I noticed.”
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, not exactly sure where the conversation is going.
“Guess I didn’t realize how close,” he says.
Chrissy studies him for a moment, “You miss her.”
He frowns, “What?”
“You and Sunny,” she clarifies with a soft smile, “You miss hanging out with her.”
The words catch him off guard, not because they aren’t true but because Chrissy noticed.
“We haven’t really…” he trails off, “It’s been a while since we’ve really hung out.”
“You’ve both been busy.”
He nods.
Chrissy tilts her head in his direction, “You with me.”
“And her with…” he gestures vaguely for Chrissy to finish.
“Steve.”
Eddie lets out a sigh. He’s as transparent as a fucking window.
“Steve, Robin, Vickie, Nancy, Jonathan, the kids – take your pick,” she tells him.
He stares out the windshield as her words hit him.
“We used to see each other every day.”
“You still do.”
“Not really. Not like now.”
“School doesn’t count?”
He shakes his head, “Not with me and Sunny.”
Chrissy has tons of friends, or at least she did before she got together with Eddie. She was always surrounded by people happy to see her. While Eddie’s circle has most definitely expanded in the last couple of years, there was a time when there was only you. And there’s a big difference between passing someone in the hallway or sitting with them at the lunch table versus spending four hours talking about everything and nothing all at once. He doesn’t really know how to explain that.
“I don’t know. Feels like I missed a turn somewhere.”
Chrissy reaches over and squeezes his hand, “Maybe you should call her.”
“Yeah?”
“Invite her to do something,” she tells him with a smile, “I know she’s your best friend. Friendships take work, too.”
Eddie chuckles softly, “You’re pretty smart, Miss Cunningham.”
She leans over and kisses his cheek, “Just telling you what you already know, Mr. Munson.”
The van rolls to a stop outside the Cunningham house. Before climbing out, Chrissy turns back to him.
“For the record, I think she’d really appreciate that.”
“Sunny?”
“Yeah. She hasn’t stopped being your best friend.”
“You’re right,” he tells her.
Chrissy slips out of the van with a smile, “Goodnight Eddie.”
“Goodnight Chris.”
He watches her walk up the front steps and go inside before he pulls away from the curb. Her words stay with him for the rest of his drive.
Friendships take work, too.
Chrissy is right. Eddie has been so caught up in his blossoming relationship that all of his friendships have been waiting on the sidelines. He’s certain that’s what the feeling that’s been sitting in his stomach all night is. He just misses his best friend.
He resolves that tomorrow, at Tina’s party, he’ll make a point to spend some time with Sunny and make plans to do something with her. Then maybe the gnawing will finally subside.
He’ll fix it tomorrow.
Eddie and Chrissy have been at the party for a good half hour, and so far no one has tried to start shit. It might actually be a record.
Usually, it starts as soon as they enter a room together – Jason or one of his cronies has something to say, or one of Chrissy's former friends makes a comment just loud enough for everyone to hear. Tonight, though, the insults seem to have drowned beneath cheap beer, loud music, and the weed half the football team bought from him before the party started.
Eddie thinks that it’s honestly pretty nice.
He convinced Chrissy to dress as the Princess Leia to his Han Solo. He has a replica of Han’s blaster at his hip and Chrissy’s bunned head tucked beneath his arm while Gareth and Jeff argue over who is the better metal vocalist between Ronnie James Dio and Rob Halford. They’ve been doing so for almost forty-five minutes.
“Ronnie James Dio,” Eddie tells them, “Hands down.”
Jeff groans dramatically, “I don’t need you putting your two cents in, Munson.”
“I’m just saying…”
“You’re just mad because he agrees with me,” Gareth pipes in, shouting above the noise of the music blaring out of the bluetooth speakers someone set up in the living room.
“You’re just mad because deep down you know I’m right,” Jeff spits out, already half tipsy.
Chrissy laughs beneath his arm. She rolls her eyes at them, but she’s still smiling. And it’s all easy. Comfortable. It’s a normal Eddie never thought he would have. He’s at a party with his friends – with his girlfriend – and everything is smooth sailing.
Then, the front door opens. He’s not sure how he notices in the chaos that is Tina’s house, but he feels the burst of cool October air, then he hears the familiar laughter.
Robin Buckley.
Eddie would know that vivacious cackle anywhere.
“You cheated!” are the first words out of her mouth as she enters, followed closely behind by Steve Harrington.
“I absolutely did not!” Steve argues.
“You bribed children!”
“One singular child. And there was no bribing. I negotiated.”
“Semantics.”
You and Vickie spill in behind them, arms linked, laughing at them as they bicker back and forth. Robin is pointing an accusatory finger at Steve and you and Vickie are practically doubled over watching them. Steve reaches over and steadies you by the elbow before you knock Vickie over.
“You okay there, sweetheart?”
Eddie can just hear him over the music.
“I’m fine,” you laugh while trying to catch your breath, “You two are just so dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” Robin asks with a gasp, “You literally watched him threaten Dustin!”
“I did not threaten him.”
“You said, and I quote, ‘Henderson, if you don’t choose me I will throw every piece of candy you own out the window.’ All of the drama over asking who has the best Halloween costume.”
Steve crosses his arms, looking entirely unapologetic.
“I don’t see where I’m in the wrong. And I won.”
You bump your shoulder into his, “You’re ridiculous.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Vickie snorts, looking between Steve and Robin, “You two are exhausting.”
“You love us,” Robin tells her, extricating her from your grip.
“Correction, I tolerate you.”
“Liar.”
The four of you dissolve into even more laughter as you finally make your way fully through the door. And Eddie just watches the exchange unfold while Gareth, Jeff, and Chrissy drone on in the background.
You’re all so comfortable with one another. It’s not quite the way people who’ve known each other forever are, like you and Eddie. It’s more in the way that people become comfortable with each other because they consciously choose to spend time with each other for the singular purpose of being together.
Robin reaches out and straightens Steve’s mask. He’s dressed as The Dread Pirate Roberts to your Princess Buttercup. It is a costume you’ve been planning for almost a year. You’ve been sourcing it over the months, and Eddie has to say that you have it down to a tee. The dress. The wig. The gold belt. He feels a little twist in his gut knowing that he was the one who was supposed to be your costume partner. He was always your costume partner. Now it’s Harrington. Now Eddie’s is Chrissy.
He doesn’t want to think about Harrington. He wants to think about you. You look…beautiful. But of course Steve makes a dashing fucking Westley standing next to you. It makes him want to grind his teeth.
Robin and Vickie are dressed as Scooby Doo’s Daphne and Velma, and that makes him smile a little, at least.
Vickie nudges everyone toward the kitchen.
“Come on, Keg King, you promised me beer,” Vickie tells Steve.
“It’s not my beer.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you made the promise.”
You fall into step beside Steve without even thinking about it. It’s almost as if you belong there. It’s only then that you finally look up and around the room. Your eyes immediately find Eddie’s and your entire face brightens.
“Eddie!”
You lift a hand in a wave that makes your blonde wig shake all around your face. He can’t help but smile.
“There you are!” Robin calls out like she’s been searching for him for hours, “We thought you might be hiding.”
“Nope,” Eddie says with a grin as the four of you approach, “Just letting your group make their grand entrance.”
Steve chuckles, “That was Buckley.”
“It was entirely you, drama queen,” Robin fires back.
You laugh, “It was definitely you, Stevie.”
Steve places a hand over his chest in mock offense and then pulls you into him with an arm around your shoulder.
“I don’t appreciate a two-pronged attack.”
“You’ll survive.”
“What if I don’t?” Steve asks with a pout.
You gently press a finger to his lips to put them back in their normal shape, “I promise you will.”
Steve smiles against your finger. Eddie can feel the weirdness in his gut again.
The conversation continues to flow around him. You join in on the previous conversation that Eddie’s group was having and suggest adding Bruce Dickinson to the list. Because of course you would, and it just stirs Gareth and Jeff up even more. He can tell by the glint in your eyes that you did it on purpose.
Eddie waits for a lull, something that gives him an in so he can talk to just you for a second, but it never comes.
Vickie says something pointedly to Steve about finding the beer again to which Steve gives a nod and goes off on his mission with Vickie and Robin close on his tail.
You turn to Eddie before you follow The Dread Pirate Roberts, “We’ll come find you again in a minute.”
“Take your time,” he tells you.
Within seconds, you’re swallowed by the crowd, even though Eddie still tries to catch a glimpse of your red dress through the throng of bodies. He can still hear Robin’s voice carrying over the music.
“You good?” Chrissy asks quietly.
“What?” he asks as he turns to look down at her.
“You looked like you were somewhere else for a second.”
“Sorry, I just…every time I try to talk to her, something pulls one of us away.”
“The night’s young, babe. I’m sure you’ll find time.”
“Yeah.”
The music grows louder as Tina’s house grows more crowded. Someone has started playing “I Put a Spell on You” over the speakers and everyone has gone wild. The living room has become an impromptu dance floor, and everyone is basically shoulder-to-shoulder.
Steve has returned from his conquest and beers are being passed around.
“One beer, one beer, one beer...” he says as he hands them out to you, Robin, and Vickie, “And one Coke for the designated driver.”
Steve decided he was in charge of the three of you for the night. He made sure you all knew that you were allowed to let loose and have fun and he would take care of you.
“You’re such a gentleman, Stevie.”
He blushes and grants you a mega watt smile and you smile back at him from your cup.
“Dance with me,” he says, holding out the hand not holding his drink.
You don’t even have to think about it. You let him twirl you around, careful not to slosh your beer as bodies press in all around. You sway back and forth with him in between sips and he mouths along with the song.
You glance across the room, looking for Eddie. He is situated near the dining room having an animated discussion with Gareth and Jeff, Chrissy is tucked neatly under his arm. He catches your eyes and you smile. He smiles back.
Someone bumps into you from behind before you can give him a wave. You hear a mumbled “sorry” as you stumble forward a step. Steve catches you before you spill beer all over the front of your very expensive costume.
“Easy there, Buttercup.”
“I swear I’m not a klutz,” you say as you lean into him for balance.
“I’ve seen evidence to the contrary.”
“When was that?”
“When you tried to hop up on the counter at work and almost flipped over backward. It was only my cat-like reflexes that saved you.”
“So this isn’t just a costume?” you ask as you gesture toward his get up.
“No ma’am. I have indeed come to save you from the evil Prince Humperdink.”
You can see Robin watching the exchange out of the corner of her eye. She leans over and whispers something to Vickie. Vickie immediately looks over at you and Steve. Then back at Robin. Her lips expand into a grin.
You narrow your eyes and ask, “What?”
“Nothing,” Robin answers too quickly.
“I don’t believe you.”
Robin laughs, “You probably shouldn’t.”
Before you can interrogate her further, a voice cuts through the music.
“Who’s up for Seven Minutes in Heaven?” someone (you’re pretty sure it’s Carol) asks, holding two empty Solo cups in the air.
Drunken cheers echo all around. What else is everyone expected to do at a party other than make each other kiss?
“Oh my god, yes! The drama!” Robin says with a squeal, grabbing your hand and following the crowd.
Before she can pull you too far away, you grab Steve’s hand and drag him with you.
“If I have to follow her, you have to follow her, too,” you tell him.
Steve just gives you a shrug and mutters, “As you wish,” and follows along. He’s learned quickly that when you and Robin get something in your heads, it’s best if he just goes with it.
Everyone interested has gathered around the couch where Tommy sits like it’s a throne. There are quite a few of you and it’s obvious that Tommy has put himself in charge as he starts giving everyone instructions. He’s grabbed a spiral notebook from god knows where and tells everyone playing to write their names on the pieces of paper he tears off. In one cup goes boys’ names, in the other, girls’.
“I’m getting you kissed,” Robin says as she grabs two pieces of paper and starts scribbling.
“Robin! What the fuck?” you all but shout as you try to pull her away, but she just shrugs you off.
She finishes your name first and shoves it in the girls’ cup. Then she takes the second piece and you look over her shoulder to see the letters she’s jotting down. S–T–E
That’s when Steve finally notices, “What are you doing, Buckley?”
“I’m putting your name in.”
“Yeah, no way.”
“Don’t worry, I put Sunny’s in, too.”
“How is that supposed to be any better?”
Robin just waggles her eyebrows.
You stare at her. She beams. Steve looks like he’s deciding if murder would be worth the prison time.
He folds his arms, looking a little bit like a petulant toddler, “I’m taking my name out.”
“Nope,” Tommy says, shaking both cups as Robin drops his name in, “Once you’re in, you’re in.”
“This feels illegal – like coercion or something,” Steve mutters.
“It’s Halloween,” Robin says, “This day is lawless.”
“That’s not how the law works, Robs,” Steve tells her, but she’s no longer paying attention.
Tommy claps loudly and motions for everyone to gather around him, “I’m not going to bore you with the minute details. We all know how this game works. I hope you kids have all popped your gum and brought your chapstick, because it’s time to get those lips moving. Alright, first pair!”
The room erupts into sudden cheers as he reaches into each cup and pulls out two slips of paper. Tommy yells out names and the first couple gets shoved toward the hall closet while everyone howls and pounds on the walls
“Have fun, minions! The timer is set to seven minutes!” Tommy yells to the crowd as he makes his way to the kitchen while everyone waits, “I need a drink!”.
Steve mumbles something about going to the bathroom and says he’ll be back in a minute.
Suddenly, your heart is racing. This wasn’t exactly how you thought your night was going to go.
Robin and Steve know that you’ve never kissed anyone before, but you’re damn sure not going to let the entirety of Hawkins High know as well. You hang back near the couch, arms crossed, hoping no one sees the anxiety written on your face.
Robin weasels her arm around your shoulders, “You’re nervous.”
“I’m plotting your demise,” you tell her with a roll of your eyes.
“Same thing. But don’t be mad at me. I know you want to kiss Steve, even if you won’t admit it.”
“There’s no guarantee that the name Tommy picks out with mine is gonna be Steve’s, Birdie!”
You see the realization hit her and she freezes, “I genuinely didn’t think about that.”
Before you can bury your face in your hands and wallow, you see Steve appear across the room, and he catches your eye. He’s leaning against the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking oddly calmer than he did a minute ago.
Then he mouths, You good?
You roll your eyes at him just like you did Robin.
He grins.
I guess, you mouth back.
Tommy saunters back to his position and soon enough, the first pairing comes out of the closet looking smug. Tommy sends in the next sacrifices. Thankfully, neither your name nor Steve’s has come up yet.
“You better pray to whatever god you believe that I don’t have to go in that closet with Jason or Patrick,” you tell Robin as the minutes count down.
She shrugs like she knows she doesn’t have anything to worry about – the patented Buckley confidence. You try not to let every intrusive thought you’ve ever had careen through your mind.
The timer goes off and the couple emerges from the closet. They seem no worse for wear, thankfully. Then, Tommy digs into the cups again.
“And next up…” he unfolds the first slip and a grin spreads across his face as he reads, “oh, this is good.”
“So help me god, Tommy,” Robin grumbles, moving to the edge of her seat.
Tommy continues to grin for a bit without revealing who’s on the paper. You think Robin might combust in her anticipation while you want to crawl under the couch, “The one and only, King Steve!”
The room whoops. You can see a few of the girls reapplying their lipstick and checking themselves out on their phones. You look over to Steve and he drags a hand down his face.
“Great,” he doesn’t even bother to say it under his breath as he approaches Tommy.
“And the lucky lady who gets to lock lips with Harrington is…”
Tommy opens the second paper slowly, and you’ve got to give it to him, he’s a master at drawing out the suspense. But somehow, you already know. You can feel Robin vibrating beside you. You’ve promised the Halloween gods a sacrifice as long as they relent on this one thing. You don’t dare glance back at Steve.
When Tommy calls out your name, the living room explodes and your heart skips a beat. Robin hollers beside you like her team just won the Super Bowl.
“I don’t know about this,” you tell Tommy, suddenly overwhelmed not by the prospect of getting into the closet with Steve, but with everyone knowing you’re in there with him.
You think about chickening out. You still can’t look at Steve. You don’t want to see what’s playing over his face, fearing that it’s going to look something like regret. You also don’t want to admit that you most definitely want to kiss him, but also maybe vomit.
Tommy points to the closet, “Rules are rules. My hands are tied.”
“There are no rules,” you fire back, “You wrote names in a notebook from somebody’s junk drawer. This is a childish game.”
“This is a right of passage,” he poses.
Robin plants both hands on your shoulders and starts steering you forward through the crowd, “Go smooch the dingus. It’s your destiny.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t. You’ll thank me later.”
Steve gets shoved from the other side by some of the football team.
“This is harassment,” he announces as the two of you are deposited at the door of the closet.
Someone opens it. It’s small, dark, and full of coats and old board games. For a moment, the cacophony around you fades and all you can do is look into Steve’s eyes.
He glances down at you, his lip twitching, “You wanna run?”
You almost say yes, but you hesitate. You don’t want to run. You just don’t want to let him and everyone else know how eager and utterly terrified you are. The sound of the onlookers returns.
Then Robin yells, “I never thought I’d say this, but get your asses in the closet!”
The crowd chants your names.
You square your shoulders, no chickening out, “After you, Harrington.”
He gives a mock bow, “As you wish.”
You step inside together and the door slams shut behind you. It’s almost completely dark except for the strip of light coming through the crack at the bottom of the door. The sounds of the party are muffled behind the wood, but you can still hear Tommy when he says, “Setting a timer for seven minutes, lovebirds!”
Neither of you speaks for a couple of seconds.
“Well,” Steve finally says into the dark, “this might end up being incredibly stupid.”
You let out a nervous laugh, “You think?”
“Definitely. Someone gave Tommy authority. That’s already a bad start.”
“I think Tommy gave himself authority.”
“Sounds about right.”
You can hear him shifting closer, trying to be careful in the cramped space. His chest brushes up against yours anyway. Your breath hitches slightly.
“You know,” he begins, sensing your tension, “we don’t actually have to do anything.”
Relief hits you first, but annoyance hits you harder.
“Rejecting me so quickly, Harrington?”
He laughs, but it sounds wrong, “That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“Neither of us came in willingly,” he mutters.
“Speak for yourself,” you scoff.
There’s a pause.
“Y-you want to kiss me?”
“I can think of worse people to share my first kiss with.”
“Hm,” is his only reply.
Your eyes are adjusting to the darkness and you can see him looking down on you with an almost tender look in his eyes. He reaches out to brush a piece of stray wig hair behind your ear.
“You nervous?” he asks.
You probably should be. Maybe you are a little bit. It’s hard to quantify.
He’s dressed as The Dread Pirate Roberts and you’re dressed as Princess Buttercup. You’ve been shoved into a closet by horny and drunk teenagers. The situation is admittedly ridiculous.
“No,” you tell him.
You are most definitely nervous, and you know Steve can tell. He can probably feel your heart pounding.
“Liar.”
You open your mouth to argue, but he’s shifted more, and the two of you are basically plastered together. You can feel him in the dark as he takes off the stupid mask he insisted he wear. He’s warm and you can smell his cologne. He’s oozing the stupid easy confidence he wears like a jacket. It’s basically permeating the space around you.
Your heartbeat kicks up a notch.
“What about you?” you ask, “You nervous?”
He’s quiet for a second, then he takes a deep breath, “You have to know.”
He places his hands on your waist because there’s not much room for them to go anywhere else.
“Know what?”
“That I like you.”
“Oh.”
You suspected as much, or at least Robin tried to convince you of it, but you never thought you’d actually hear him admit it.
“How am I supposed to know, Steve? I’ve seen you flirt with half this town.”
“That’s fair.”
“You were kind of notorious.”
“Yeah, well,” his voice drops and you can feel his breath against your ear, “this is different.”
You can feel the pressure of his hands on your skin. Goosebumps erupt on your arms as you raise them to set them on his shoulders.
You go to speak and your throat goes dry, “Different how?”
He doesn’t answer right away. When your fingers curl around the back of his neck, he exhales like he’s been holding his breath.
“Different because I just threatened Tommy within an inch of his life to make sure we got picked together. I knew how nervous you were that you’ve never been kissed. Different because I’ve had a crush on you for months. Different because you’re the first person I look for when I walk into a room. Different because I spent a long time convincing myself I shouldn’t say anything because of how you felt about Munson. But lately I’ve been feeling like maybe…” he peters off and looks down at you.
You lower your arms, gripping his shirt. Now it’s your turn to say something and you’re just going to go with it and let the chips fall where they may. You’ve done this before. You’ve had practice.
“You know,” you say, trying for steady and failing, “if we kiss now, Robin will be unbearable.”
“She already is.”
“Good point.”
For a second, all you can hear are your joined breaths.
Then, Steve breaks the silence. He’s all softness and no swagger, “Can I?”
Your stomach flips. Nobody has ever asked you that before. And certainly no one has ever looked at you the way Steve is looking at you now. You know that with him, your answer actually matters.
You smile. You have no retort or quippy comeback, you just nod.
“I need the words, sweetheart.”
“Yes, Steve, I want you to kiss me.”
His shoulders relax immediately from where he’s been holding them tight. He doesn’t give you a chance to overthink it. His lips brush yours. He kisses you gently at first, just the soft pressure of his lips on yours, his hands coming up to cradle your face.
It’s nothing dramatic like you’ve seen on TV or read in books. There’s just you, and there’s just Steve. And it’s so fucking sweet it almost makes you want to cry.
When he pulls back, neither of you move very far, but his hands slide from your face, to brush down your arms and settle at your waist, like he’s anchoring the two of you together.
“So?” he asks.
You can’t help the blush that starts painting your cheeks.
“So.”
“Was that stupid?”
You can’t even pretend to consider it, “Not stupid at all, Harrington.”
His hands around your waist clench and he pulls you closer. He laughs against your mouth and kisses you back harder, one hand at your waist, the other moves up to cradle your jaw. His tongue gently swipes over your lips, and you know he’s asking for permission. You give it to him, and suddenly his tongue is gliding along yours. He moans in the back of his throat and you involuntarily buck against him.
“Sweetheart,” he groans.
The room outside could be on fire for all you care. The only thing you can concentrate on is the wet slide of his tongue as he lets you learn how to kiss him.
When you finally break apart, both of you are breathing too fast. Steve rests his forehead against yours.
“So,” you murmur, “we’re still sure this isn’t stupid?”
“I think we need to test it some more,” Steve says right before he captures your lips again.
He presses you up against what feels like a wool coat and his hands shift from your waist to your hips. Your hands reach up and you card your fingers through his hair. He groans again as his lips trail from yours, down your jaw to your neck. He licks over your pulse and you gasp.
“Steve,” you say in a voice you barely recognize as your own.
You can feel him smile against your skin. He’s gently nipping at your neck when someone pounds heavily on the door.
“I hope you’re decent!” Tommy calls out before he abruptly swings it open.
“Where’d Sunny go?” Eddie asks, looking around for your red dress.
Robin points down the hall to the closet, “She’s in heaven.”
“What are you on about, Buckley?”
“Sunny – she’s in heaven, with Steve. I’d say they have about a few minutes left to go.”
Eddie’s brain short circuits for half a second while it makes the leaps to comprehend what Robin just told him. You and Steve are in the closet, most likely making out. At Tina’s party. Where everyone knows what you’re doing.
He can admit to himself that he never in a million years thought that was something you’d do. You just didn’t seem like the type to join in on a game like that.
“I can see the confusion on your face, Munson. What’s going on in that brain of yours?”
“I guess I just didn’t think that Seven Minutes in Heaven was Sunny’s thing.”
“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think it is. I was the one who put her name in there. I put Steve’s in there, too. Although, I’m pretty sure they were both happy with the outcome,” Robin tells him with a smirk like she’s pleased with herself, “I told her I was getting her kissed tonight.”
“Huh?” Eddie’s a bit confused.
“You did know that your best friend has never been kissed, correct?”
“Uh…”
“I’m gonna take that as a no,”
“You would be right.”
“I’m sorry. I figured you knew,” Robin admits, “She was starting to become terrified that her first kiss was going to be some big, embarrassing thing. Steve knew that, and I’m pretty sure he cornered Tommy in the kitchen and laid down the law.”
Steve knew. The thought hits Eddie somewhere in that part of his gut that lately seems reserved only for you. And not only because Steve knew something Eddie didn’t, but because Steve cared enough to do something about it.
Eddie wracks his brain trying to recall the last time you talked about something personal – something that wasn’t about school, Hellfire, band, or trying to plan hanging out. He comes up empty. Zero. Zilch.
Were you embarrassed? Did you think he would look at you differently?
There was a time that he could say that he knew everything about you. He was even there the day you started your period. You were at the trailer and Uncle Wayne took you to buy pads. But this is something he knew nothing about.
But Robin knew. Steve knew. He was pretty sure Vickie knew. And Eddie, your supposed best friend, hadn’t the slightest clue.
He glances toward the closet door that’s still closed. People are laughing and dancing and talking over one another. Eddie barely hears any of it. Instead, he finds himself wondering how many other conversations have happened without him.
How many late-night drives has he missed? How many inside jokes have formed? How many fears and triumphs have you shared with someone else because he just wasn’t there?
He can’t blame Steve, and it’s not your fault either. Friendships can’t last if only one person keeps showing up.
He’s trying to figure out how everything started changing without him noticing. It’s in that moment that he realizes he’s taking this harder than he should be.
Way harder.
It doesn’t make a bit of damn sense.
He’s standing in the middle of Tina’s living room with Chrissy fucking Cunningham. She’s the girl he spent the majority of high school crushing on. She lets him make out with her. Lately she’s been letting him do even more.
He should be thinking about her, and what they’re going to do after the party. Instead, he’s wondering how Steve ended up learning things about you he never knew. The realization makes him feel sick. Not because of you. Because of Chrissy.
He drags a hand down his face.
Jesus fucking Christ.
What in the actual hell is wrong with him? Chrissy hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s spent the whole night right beside him, listening to Gareth and Jeff’s idiotic conversation, laughing at stupid jokes, squeezing his hand every time he started drifting away.
She deserves his attention. She deserves all of it. But he’s spent the majority of the night watching you and Steve. Watching the two of you laugh and tease and become…whatever you are becoming. Guilt pushes against that spot in his gut that holds you and consumes it.
You’re here with your girlfriend, he tells himself, You’re happier than you’ve ever been. You love her. Don’t you?
The answer comes to him immediately.
Of course he does. Chrissy is funny and kind and gorgeous. She makes him feel like he’s not a screw-up. He can never remember a time when he didn’t want Chrissy Cunningham.
So why does his chest ache and his gut churn when he thinks about watching you and Steve walk into Tina’s damn linen closet? He can’t find an explanation that makes sense. The only answer he allows himself to land on is one that feels almost too obvious – because he misses his best friend.
Somewhere between making out in the back of his van with Chrissy after school and trying to build a relationship with her, you’d drifted. You haven’t exactly replaced him, but you’ve latched on to someone who’s there.
If that causes him pain, he feels like maybe he’s earned it.
Steve links his fingers with yours before the two of you can step out.
As Tommy moves out of the way, everyone turns – literally everyone – and the room goes silent for a second. You step out first, fingers still linked with Steve’s, and he emerges directly behind you.
Steve, who is usually the coolest guy in any room, is suddenly very interested in staring directly at the floor, trying so hard to look normal when there’s no way for the two of you to look normal. You just exited a closet where everyone knows you kissed.
You are trying valiantly to suppress the smile that you can feel stretching across your face, but it’s no good.
Tommy, ever the instigator, takes one look at the two of you and practically shouts, “Oh my god!”
The room explodes with shouts of raucous encouragement, and Steve gives your hand a squeeze.
Robin comes up to your side and nudges you gently with her elbow, “I guess we got you kissed after all.”
Steve looks up, and it’s a big mistake, because now everyone can see the stupid grin on his lips.
“There it is!” Tommy shouts.
“Shut the fuck up, Hagan!”
“There it is!”
“No!”
“That’s the face…”
“Lower your voice.”
“The face of a man who bagged his lady!”
Steve looks ready to commit a murder.
“I didn’t bag shit, Hagan.”
“Let me put it another way,” Tommy begins, “Steve and Sunny sittin’ in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
Eddie hasn’t said a word at all. Not a single one. Chrissy notices, because of course she does. She’s standing right next to him when the closet doors open, when he sees you and Steve walk out with linked fingers. She’s standing right next to him when the small crowd starts cheering. She’s standing right next to him as Steve looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. She’s standing right next to him as you look away from Steve with a blush on your face and your eyes meet Eddie’s.
You smile shyly, Eddie smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
Robin grabs at you and Steve and pulls you off somewhere where people are no longer staring at you.
Eddie doesn’t remember much of the next half hour.
He remembers Tommy crowing like he’d personally orchestrated the greatest love story in Hawkins history, which hell, maybe he did. He remembers you and Steve showing back up on the dance floor, ignoring all of the searching eyes. He remembers Steve trying and failing to suppress the smile on his face.
Chrissy found his hand more than once. Each time he squeezed it back. Each time, guilt twisted a knot in his stomach. Because she deserved more than half his attention.
The party thins out. People talk about hitting up Benny’s before it closes. A few people drift toward the front door, others linger in the kitchen nursing the last of their now-flat beers.
Across the room, Eddie catches one last glimpse of you. Steve’s helping you untangle your dress from the buckle on his boot while you both laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
It’s such a small thing. The kind of thing that he wouldn’t have noticed a week ago. It seems like he’s noticing everything tonight.
Chrissy slips her fingers through his.
“You ready to go?”
Eddie looks down at her, “Your chariot awaits.”
He follows her out into the cool October night and sets her delicately in the passenger seat.
The drive is once again quiet. This time he might even be able to call it a bit uncomfortable. Glowing pumpkins on front porches blur past as the radio plays “Monster Mash.”
Chrissy is waiting. He can’t think of anything to say. She sighs.
“Are you ready to tell me what that was about tonight?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
It’s not exactly a lie. She could be talking about any number of things.
“Do you like her, or something?”
He doesn’t have to ask who she’s talking about.
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like, Eddie? You’ve been acting weird since last night.”
Eddie grips the steering wheel tighter.
“I’m sorry. I know you mentioned it last night, but I guess I just had no clue how to talk to you about this without it coming out wrong.”
“Without what coming out wrong?”
“I just miss my best friend,” he lets the words out with a slow breath.
Chrissy’s face turns thoughtful for a second before she asks, “Are you jealous of Steve?”
His mind is still all jumbled up from all the thoughts that flew through his head tonight, but he has to give her something.
“Not in the way you think. I guess I just didn’t realize how much I miss her. When we talked last night, I thought I did. I thought I had it figured out. Then we’re all at this party together. I saw her for maybe five minutes. And it has nothing to do with you. I love hanging out with you. And it’s not Sunny’s fault either. I haven’t been there like I used to be. She has every right to spend time with whoever she wants to spend time with. I think I’m just jealous of the fact that all of the stuff she and I used to do together, she’s doing with someone else.”
“And this has nothing to do with the fact that you watched her walk out of a closet tonight after she shared her first kiss with Steve Harrington?”
“It wasn’t about her kissing Steve, I swear! It was mostly because I felt like an asshole that I didn’t even know she’d never been kissed, but Robin and Steve did. The conversation basically inferred that they have a crush on each other, and I guess I was just a little overwhelmed by the influx of information and all the stuff I don’t know about my supposed best friend.”
Chrissy nods, taking it all in. Her face grows contemplative and it’s a second before she speaks again.
“And you’re sure it’s not because you have feelings for her?”
Chrissy has every right to ask that question after the way he behaved tonight.
“I don’t have feelings for her in the way you mean. I love Sunny, I’ll be completely honest with you. I can’t remember a time when she hasn’t been there for me.”
Chrissy scrunches her brows. It’s usually hard for other people to understand his relationship with you if they don’t know how the two of you are together. They can hear the stories, but if they’ve never witnessed it, it’s hard to explain.
“I’m always going to love her. But it’s not in a romantic way. That’s saved for only one girl, and that’s you, Chris.”
Chrissy has been looking down at her hands, and now she looks up at him with skepticism in her eyes.
“What do you mean by that, Eddie?”
“What do you think I mean?”
“I just asked you if you had feelings for your best friend, babe. Maybe now’s not the time to tease me.”
“You’re right. I’m just gonna come out and say it,” he takes a deep breath. This wasn’t what he had planned for the night, but it seems like maybe now is the perfect time.
They’d gone to a party and not one time had anyone whispered the word “freak.” She’d cuddled up to him all night and made sure that everyone knew she was his. She was honestly worried that he could look at any other girl the way he looked at her.
Here goes nothing, Eddie thinks to himself before he makes the decision.
He’s pulled up to the curb of Chrissy’s house once again. This wasn’t exactly where he wanted to spill his guts, but fuck it.
“I love you, Chrissy Cunningham.”
Chrissy’s eyes immediately go glassy, and for a heartbeat, she just stares at him.
“You – you picked now to tell me that?” she mutters with a laugh.
Eddie winces, “I know. Uh, terrible timing.”
“The worst.”
“I can take it back and wait until tomorrow…”
Before he can finish, Chrissy is leaning toward him, one hand cupping his cheek.
“Don’t you dare take it back.”
He lets out the nervous breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
“I mean it.”
“I know you do,” she says as a tear slips down her cheek, “I’ve been waiting to hear you say it.”
She smiles and it takes his breath away.
“I love you too, Eddie.”
The words settle over him and for a moment he feels like he’s out of his body. The knot in his chest eases a notch as he presses his forehead to hers.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?”
“For yesterday. For tonight. For being in my head and letting you think I don’t worship the ground that you walk on.”
Chrissy’s thumb brushes across his cheek and a new quiet settles around them. He’d love nothing more than to throw her in the back and kiss every inch of her, but at some point during their conversation, Mr. Cunningham appeared on the front porch. And Mr. Cunningham isn’t his biggest fan.
“Your dad is staring at me.”
Chrissy giggles and presses a quick kiss to his lips before she pulls back and unbuckles her seatbelt. She turns to him before she opens the door.
“I love you.”
He knows his smile is stretched obscenely across his face.
“I love you too.”
She gets out and practically hops down her front walkway to her door. Her dad opens it and lets her inside before looking back at him for a second. She turns to give him a little wave, but Mr. Cunningham ushers her inside and slams the door without looking back.
Eddie sighs and sits back in his seat. He can’t really believe he just told Chrissy Cunningham that he loves her and she said it back. He was planning on doing a whole romantic thing with flowers and candles and shit, but he couldn’t wait anymore. He couldn’t let Chrissy get out of his van with doubts.
He does love her. She’s perfect. She’s his dream girl, as in he’s literally had dreams about her.
He takes out his phone because he’s bursting at the seams and he has to tell someone. The first person he pulls up is you, and he’s about to push the call button before he realizes he has no clue what you’re doing. He has no clue where you are.
He knows you’re with Robin, Vickie, and Steve, but when the four of you are together, there’s no telling what you’ll get up to. He doesn’t want to intrude or pull you away from anything.
He closes his phone and shoves it back in his pocket.
I can wait until tomorrow. He’s going to call you tomorrow and he’s going to make plans with just you. He’s going to hang out with you and you’re going to fill him in on everything going on in your life, and he’s going to do the same thing with you.
And things are surely going to go back to normal. He’ll fix it tomorrow.
Robin and Vickie have been safely delivered to their destination. The only people in the BMW are you and Steve, and you can’t help but fidget in your seat.
Steve pulls up to your house and puts his car in park. He turns off the radio and you sit for a minute in silence, neither of you daring to break it. You’re aware of every movement that Steve makes – when he runs his hand through his hair, when he taps his finger on the steering wheel, when he takes a deep breath.
“So…” he begins.
“So…”
“We kissed.”
You nod, “Yeah, we did.”
His hands go to his lap and he turns in his seat to look at you. You’ve never seen King Steve this nervous.
“I really liked it.”
“I did, too,” you tell him with a smile.
“Good.”
He nods and looks down at his steering wheel.
Silence comes again as both of you try to think of the most appropriate thing to say. You’ve never been in a situation like this and you’re unaware of the post-kiss protocol.
“Let me walk you to the door,” Steve says, then promptly gets out and rounds the hood of the car to open your door for you.
“Such a gentleman, Harrington,” you say as you take the hand he offers you.
Steve’s hand is warm as he helps you out of the car, but you let go of it just a second later. Neither of you seems entirely sure of what you’re supposed to do. The walk to your front porch is painfully short.
Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pocket.
“So…”
You laugh, “We already do the ‘so’ thing.”
“Yup.”
“I don’t think we can use it twice.”
He chuckles quietly.
Your feet hit the first step to your door, but you don’t want to go inside. Not yet.
“I’ve never done this before,” you tell him quietly.
Steve’s expression softens immediately, “I think I like that.”
You step onto the step and he follows you without thinking. He’s close enough that you can see the tiny freckles that scatter across the bridge of his nose. He’s so close you can smell his cologne. He’s close enough that your heart starts beating faster inside your chest.
“I’ve been trying to figure out what to say.”
You look into his eyes and let him know that you mean it, “You don’t have to say anything.”
“I know. But I want to.”
You wait. If the man wants to speak, you’re going to let him speak.
“I don’t want tonight to be about a Halloween party.”
“It’s not,” you tell him truthfully.
You were at a Halloween party, yes, but that was all background. Right now, there’s nothing but Steve in the foreground.
“I don’t want our first kiss to be because Tommy Hagan and some football players shoved us into a closet.”
You can feel your face flush, “That’s not how I’m going to remember our first kiss.”
Steve smiles, “I want to take you out.”
Your breath catches. This night is full of firsts and all of them with Steve Harrington. You couldn’t make yourself be disappointed if you tried.
“I want you to take me out.”
He nods and moves that scant inch closer to you.
“We kissed.”
Your heart pounds against your ribs.
“We did.”
“And I’d really like to do it again.”
You can feel his breath on your cheeks.
“Same.”
He steps back, “But I’m not going to until I’ve taken you on a date.”
“Okay.”
You’re both relieved and disappointed.
“Somewhere where there are no closets.”
You laugh out loud, “Anywhere you want, Steve.”
“So that’s a yes.”
You nod so hard you almost chuck the wig right off of your head, “It’s definitely a yes.”
He lets out a relieved breath, “Shit. I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.”
“Weeks?”
“Just ask Robin.”
“She’s going to be insufferable enough already,” you tell him as you perch yourself on the top step, “I’m not asking her that.”
From this vantage point, you can start down into Steve’s eyes and if you look long enough, you know you could find yourself lost in them.
“So what are you doing this Saturday?”
“Going on a date with you, Harrington.”
He gets on his toes and places a chaste kiss on your forehead before he steps back.
“I’ll pick you up at six?”
“I’ll be ready.”
You wait until he reaches his car before you go inside. Halfway in, you turn and see him just standing there, watching you. He’s making sure you get in safely. You give him a wave and go inside.
Only after you close the front door does he finally get into the driver’s seat, wearing the unmistakable smile of someone who can’t wait for Saturday.
Notes: This took me forever to write because I didn't really know what direction I wanted to take it. I struggle with knowing how deep to go into Eddie's relationship with Chrissy. I'll try not to have so much time in between chapters again.
Anyone wanna give me their recs for their favorite Eddie Munson x Reader and/or Steve Harrington x Reader angst with a happy ending fics? I need to feel something.
For anyone who cares, I promise I am going to post a new chapter of "The Longest Campaign." Here is a little snippet of what is to come. Fingers crossed I'll have it done this weekend now that I'm not crying at work every day.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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A/N: Requested by @ludachrissy 💕 I hope you enjoy it
Pairing: Fiancé!Eddie x Fem!Reader
Summary: It’s your wedding day and Eddie is lovesick and desperate to have you all to himself. Even if it means stealing you away from your bridal suite right before the ceremony.
Content Warning: 18+ Smut, Fingering, Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk/Sexual Language, Swearing/Profanity, Slight Degradation (Use of the word slut).
Credit: dividers by @cafekitsune
────────
“Where the fuck is the bride?”
You could hear Nancy’s voice call out in a panicked tone as she rushes around the bridal suite in her heels and bridesmaid dress.
“Robin, where did she go?”
“I don’t know!” Robin replies, standing near the door of the room as she watched Nancy pace nervously.
Suddenly, the sound of hurried feet come from down the hall.
“Have you guys seen Eddie?” Dustin calls out, looking around the room at the two girls.
“Eddie’s missing too?” Nancy worries, her voice becoming higher and more stressed by the second.
“Yeah. He said he was going out for a smoke, like, twenty minutes ago and now we can’t find him.”
“Fuck!” Robin calls out “The ceremony is in fifteen minutes. What the fuck are we going to do?”
Nancy quickly turns towards Dustin, giving him a serious look. “I want a full search party. Don’t stop looking until you guys find them. I’ll handle the guests. They’ve got to be around here somewhere. I swear, I’m going to kill them both when we find them.”
────────
“Eddie, we’re going to be late.” You worry, looking down at your fiancé as he kneeled in front of you- his hands snaking underneath your dress as you help him bunch it up. “You’ve gotta be quick.”
“Okay, baby.” Eddie promises, rising back up from the floor of the coat room before he presses his lips hungrily against yours “I’ll be quick. I can be quick.”
He reaches down to the button of his dress pants, popping it up as your manicured fingers grip his dick through the fabric.
“Fuck, you look so beautiful.” He whispers, backing you into the wall behind you as he kisses you hard. “So fucking gorgeous. My beautiful fucking bride. God, I can’t wait to see you at the end of that aisle.”
“Guess you really can’t wait, huh?” You laugh as you tug down his zipper, pulling your hand into his pants to free his hard cock.
“Nope. Not when you look like that.” Eddie pants as you begin to stroke his dick, slowly working from the base to the sensitive tip “Oh, fuuuck, that feels good, baby. Need to be inside of you. Right now.”
“Okay.” You nod “How do you want me?”
“Fuck,” Eddie moans “Turn around and put your hands against the wall. As much as I wanna watch how pretty my bride looks, I need to cum fast. Okay? That okay?”
“Yes.” You nod “Want you to cum fast. Want you to fill me up.”
And those words had Eddie in a fucking trance.
“Yeah, baby? You want me to cum inside of you? Hm? You want me to fill you up so good that you have my fucking cum dripping down your thighs when you walk down the aisle to me? Yeah? Fuck, the hottest part? No one out there is gonna fucking know that I bred you before the wedding even fucking started.”
“Eddie!” You gasp, slightly in shock by his filthy words but they were making you so wet
“Mmm! They won’t even have to know, sweetheart. We can keep this between you and me. No, nobody has to know that you’re such a fucking slut for my cum that I’m gonna put a baby in you by the end of the honeymoon. God, can you imagine it? My pregnant wife. Your belly all round with my fucking kid. God, Mrs. Munson, you’re gonna look so hot. S’that what you want?”
“Yes, Eds…” You whine out “Wanna have your baby. Wanna be your wife. Want your big fucking cock.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Stick that ass out for me. Thaaaat’s it…”
You do as you’re told, firmly placing your palms against the wall and arching your back for him. Eddie scoops up the back of your dress, holding it up in his fist as he uses his other hand to run his fingers up and down your clothed pussy.
“Fuck.” Eddie tsks “You’re fucking soaking. All for me. Yeah? All for your husband, baby?”
“Y-yes,” You gasp “All for you, Eddie. Please fuck me.”
“Oh sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you, don’t worry. I’m gonna please my bride. But first, before you slip that ring on my finger, I need you to get off on them. Think you can do that?”
You nod desperately as Eddie smirks, watching over your shoulder as you admire him in his tux- ready for your big day. But first, he was ready to ruin you.
Eddie hooks his fingers into your panties, tugging them down your legs as he helps you step out of them- letting them sit in a pile on the floor.
The rough pads of his fingers glide up and down your slit teasingly, causing you to gasp and arch your back into him further.
“Fuck, baby. You are a fucking vision like this.” Eddie praises “My wife bent over and dripping for me. Letting me fuck you before our wedding. Being such a good girl and letting me fill you up before our honeymoon. Fuuuck….gonna give it to you so fucking good for treating me so well, sweetheart.”
The pads of his fingers meet your needy clit as he begins to rub it in slow circles, causing you to moan as your eyes roll into the back of your head in ecstasy.
“Oh, baby…” Eddie groans “Fuck, I don’t even need to fuck you with my fingers, do I? You’re already so fucking ready for me.”
“I’m always ready for you, Eds.” You pant as he begins to slide a finger inside of you, making you feel full with just the one digit.
“That’s right, baby.” He says “That’s why I’m marrying you. Well, I mean- that’s not the only reason but-“
“Eddie, just shut up and finger me, please.” You plead, your pussy aching for more.
“Okay, angel.” He laughs, leaving forward to press a kiss to your forehead “I got you, baby, I promise. Don’t worry.”
And when Eddie makes promises, he delivers.
Your back arches even further as he slips another finger inside of you, pumping them in and out of you in a way that turns you into a moaning mess beneath him.
“Oh my god, Eddie!” You hiss “Deeper, please.”
“Okay, Mrs. Munson.” He smirks “Whatever you wish.”
He plunges his fingers back into you as far as they could go, all the way down to the thick silver rings that adorned them.
“Fuck. Should’ve taken these off.” He says but you shake your head, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you focus on the feel of the cool metal that was almost deep enough to be inside of you.
“No, Eds. Feels good. So good.”
“Yeah?” He hums “Ready for more?”
“Please.”
Eddie begins to curl his fingers inside of you, brushing up against the perfect spot that had you gasping and desperate each time. It was his favorite part of foreplay, watching you fall apart for him on his fingers.
“Oooooh my god!” You squeak, causing Eddie to smirk as he watches you take his fingers. Right before your wedding ceremony. In a dark coat room near the back of the reception hall.
“Oh fuck! Keep doing that!” You cry out, feeling Eddie’s fingertips brush up against your sweet spot over and over again.
“Yeah? S’that where you like it, baby?” He teases, eyes glued to where you were gushing for him- the wet noises of your pussy becoming obscene inside the walls of the small room.
“Yes!” You cry out, his attack on your g-spot getting you closer and closer to your orgasm “Please, Eddie! Please, please, please!”
“You gonna cum, sweetheart? Hm?” Eddie patronizes “You gonna cum for your husband?”
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Gonna cum for you! Gonna cum so-“ you gasp “-Fucking hard!”
“That’s right, sweetheart. You’re gonna cum all over these fingers. Fuck, can’t wait to make you cum all over them every…single…fucking…day. For the rest of my goddamn life. Fuuuuck…c’mon, baby. Fuckin’ give it to me, doll!”
And that’s what throws you over, immediately hitting your high as you cry out in white hot desperation.
I have just read Everything After and could not not jump straight into your inbox to scream about it !
you are an insanely talented writer. your characterisation. your pacing. THE EMOTION. THE FEELINGS. THE ANGST at the end oh my god I am SCREAMING /pos! like Eddie what are you doing come back here! It felt like a self-fulfilling prophecy with him leaving 😩
that cliffhanger has me by the proverbial balls, and I want to give you the biggest (consensual) kiss, because this fic has made me FEEL something, and it has been a long time since a fic did that for me so thank you 💛
if you ever write a continuation, I will be consuming it like it is my last meal.
THANK YOU for taking the time to write this fic 😘💛
Anon, I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate this. And (consensual) kisses right back at you.
I had a blast writing this, and I can promise there WILL BE a continuation. Work is crazy right now, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. There should be at least one more part, and maybe an epilogue.
I love Eddie, I love Sweets, and I LOVE my lil Lizard. They deserve a happy ending. And writing this has been so much fun, especially since I haven’t written in YEARS.
Seeing this made me beam after a VERY LONG day. Thank you again, and I promise more!
Summary: Complete re-write of Stranger Things in which Dustin Henderson’s fiercely protective older sister goes from clashing with Steve Harrington to fighting beside him as Hawkins falls apart around them. What starts as a reluctant friendship slowly turns into a romance neither of them is ready to admit.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI!, AFAB reader, canon divergence (mostly starting at Season 4), enemies to friends to lovers, SLOW BURN, canon typical violence, canon typical language, canonical character death, use of nickname, no y/n, eventual smut (warnings marked in individual chapters), underage alcohol use, drug use, dual POVs, and probably more that I will add later
Notes: A Henderson!Reader? In this economy? I know. My originality is off the charts. This is basically me staying decently canon compliant up until Season 4, or when I just really don't like the way something happened. I think the Duffers did some of these characters DIRTY and/or flipped their whole personalities and motivations in between seasons. If you feel how I do, and you're in love with our boy Steve, I think you'll like this.
Summary: In a rewritten version of Stranger Things, Dustin Henderson’s fiercely protective older sister goes from clashing with Steve Harrington to fighting beside him as Hawkins falls apart around them. What starts as a reluctant friendship slowly turns into a romance neither of them is ready to admit.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI!, AFAB reader, canon divergence (mostly starting at Season 4), enemies to friends to lovers, SLOW BURN, canon typical violence, canon typical language, canonical character death, use of nickname, no y/n, eventual smut (warnings marked in individual chapters), underage alcohol use, drug use, dual POVs, and probably more that I will add later
Word Count: 1748
Notes: This is basically going to be super self-indulgent. The Duffer Bros did some of these characters dirty, especially in seasons 4 and 5. I'm going to change that. I'm also a sucker for a Henderson!Reader. I really hope everyone enjoys.
You always know it’s a dream, but when it begins, you’re too happy to question it. It’s not perfect, but it’s “real”. At least as real as your father is to you these days.
Your dad is at the kitchen counter in the old house on Main Street where you used to live in Ohio. He’s rolling the sleeves of his work shirt up his forearms while spaghetti sauce simmers on the stove behind him. You can almost taste the onions and garlic.
His spaghetti was your favorite. Homemade sauce, homemade pasta, buttery garlic bread. It was a whole affair. When he was still around to make it.
The overhead light casts everything in a soft yellow glow. A perfect picture of the life you used to live. The record player in the living room is playing Simon & Garfunkel as always. Your dad was obsessed with Paul Simon. There is a soft, soothing rain that taps gently against the windows.
You’re sixteen and twelve at the same time. You’re still that little girl standing at his elbow, asking him what he’s adding and how much. You always followed him like a shadow. You’re also the girl who feels his loss so keenly as a teenager who is trying to find her place in the world.
For the smallest of moments, you feel safe enough to forget. That he’s gone. That he left you.
“You still burn the garlic bread?” he asks.
You scoff and then smile fondly, “I’m sixteen now, dad. I remember the garlic bread.”
He turns to you with narrowed eyes and a singular upturned eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe every once in a while. But Dusty’s so distracting.”
He grins, and it hits you like a punch to the gut. It’s so much like Dustin’s You forgot how easy it was to talk to him. When it was just the two of you in the kitchen. When you wanted nothing more than to absorb everything your father could teach you. In the time before everything became careful and strained and lonely.
Before he left you.
He gestures toward the fridge, and you move to grab him another beer. Always a Miller High Life. He unironically called it the “Champagne of Beers.” He would always chuckle when you asked for a sip. He never gave you one.
“How’s Nancy?” he asks.
He’s never met your friend, Nancy Wheeler, he was gone before you met her, but you’ve talked about her to him in your dreams.
Still, the question catches you off guard. Why your subconscious decided to have this conversation right now, you’ll never know.
You shrug, picking absentmindedly at the peeling label on an empty beer bottle, “Fine, I guess.”
This isn’t something you wanted to talk about. Not while he’s still here.
“Just fine?”
You hesitate.
It’s strange how your subconscious knows things you never say out loud – things you haven’t yet admitted to yourself.
“Nancy, Barb, and I used to talk about everything,” you murmur, “Now it’s like…” You struggle for the words, “like there’s a huge chasm where I’m on one side and they’re on the other, and I don’t know how to get across.”
Your father watches you without saying a word. He was always good at letting you get things out without interruption.
“She’s always with Steve Harrington now,” you continue, “Barb too! I try to hang out with them, but every time I’m around them, I feel…” you laugh mirthlessly under your breath, “I don’t know. It’s like I missed some meeting where everybody decided to grow up in this one specific way without me. I just feel so lonely.”
Your dad nods his head gently, “That happens sometimes, sweetheart.”
“And they know I hate Steve Harrington!” you mutter automatically.
That makes him laugh.
“Yeah?”
“He’s an asshole.”
Your dad lets you get away with that word. It’s your subconscious after all. And Steve Harrington is an asshole.
“He’s got good hair, though.”
Even your absent father knows about Steve Harrington’s perfect hair.
“Oh my god!” you cry like you’ve been betrayed.
Still, you laugh despite yourself. You lean into him and he gently pats you on top of the head, smoothing your hair back like he always did.
For a while, it feels normal again. Like maybe you can escape your neverending grief in your dreams.
You tell him about Dustin and his friends starting a new Dungeons and Dragons campaign and how last week he nearly set the microwave on fire trying to make popcorn. You tell him about your mom pretending she’s okay when she clearly isn’t. You tell him that you’re keeping your grades up, and you’re on track to be Valedictorian in a couple of years. You tell him about feeling angry all the time without knowing exactly why.
And your father listens. Really listens. He’s the only one who does lately. If only in your dreams. You smile against his shirt.
The rain outside grows louder. Maybe not exactly louder, but it sounds closer.
You didn’t notice it before, but the sound begins changing slowly. It sounds…wetter? It becomes something heavier. It’s less like rain and more like something dripping.
You look up and notice the kitchen wallpaper peeling near the ceiling. There’s a crack you’ve never seen before in the corner of the window above the sink. The overhead lights seem dimmer, the light no longer casting yellow, but maybe…red.
Then, you hear breathing. It’s not your dad. He’s still gently patting your head.
It’s…the walls? The walls are breathing?
Your smile fades.
“Dad?”
“Hm?”
In your peripheral vision, you see something black slither along the floorboard. You gasp and hold tighter to your dad. He doesn’t react. It curls along the edges of the walls like a snake.
Vines?
It’s a singular thin vine at first, but then you see it spreading.
Your father steps away to stir the sauce like he doesn’t notice anything. Your heart rate ticks up a notch. The record player skips. Simon & Garfunkel singing the same line over and over.
The sound of silence.
The sound of silence.
The sound of silence.
The now completely crimson overhead light flickers once. It flickers twice. You stare toward the window above the sink. The crack grows. You can hear the glass breaking. Then you notice something else.
Outside, the world is wrong.
Your backyard on Maple Street is gone. There are no lush green trees. Only dry, gray, leafless husks that shoot out of the ground toward a black sky broken only with the streaks of red lightning. There’s no fence that you helped your dad paint over the course of the summer before he was gone. Only darkness and drifting ash.
Your stomach tightens.
“Dad?” you whisper, fearing if you talk above that, something will notice.
This time when he turns toward you, something feels off.
His face looks thinner somehow. The shadows beneath his usually kind eyes stretch too deep. Veins creep slowly along his neck like the vines that have spread further across the walls.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says softly.
Goosebumps cascade across your skin. The air has turned colder.
“What do you mean?”
The kitchen groans around you. The overhead light starts swinging, red strobing across your father’s face that’s not your father’s face.
You chance a glance away when one cabinet door slowly swings open on its own. Then another. The smell of spaghetti sauce curdles into something acrid and metallic.
Your father steps closer. Or something wearing your father’s face does.
“You’re feeling all alone again,” he says.
His voice is still your dad’s voice. At least mostly. Underneath it is something deeper. Something that feels like it’s vibrating in your bones.
“You think they left you behind.”
The vines crawl faster now, winding up chair legs and across the ceiling. The kitchen becomes inky black with them.
Your heart pounds.
The sound of silence.
The sound of silence.
The sound of silence.
“I want to wake up.”
His head tilts slightly, but too sharply. The angle is all wrong. Like a puppet being pulled by invisible strings.
“Nancy forgot about you. She has more important things to occupy her time,” he continues gently, “Barb follows wherever Nancy goes. And Dustin…” a smile that’s not a smile, on a face that’s not your father’s face, twitches unnaturally, “Dustin’s growing up, too. He doesn’t need you anymore.”
“No.” You want to shout the word, but it comes out as a croak.
“You’re becoming invisible.”
The lights flicker more insistently. The lamp swings violently.
Your father’s skin begins cracking at the temples, dark veins spiderwebbing beneath the surface. His eyes sink deeper into shadow. Bones sharpen beneath thinning flesh.
You stumble backward, nearly falling over. Panic makes your chest seize.
“No, no, no!”
The kitchen stretches suddenly and impossibly long. The walls pulse, almost completely covered black with vines. They slither unnaturally like snakes over almost every surface.
And your father – that is not your father. Someone, or something else, smiles at you with your father’s mouth.
“You miss being loved. You miss being cared for,” he says.
The voice is no longer human. It’s in your head, pounding like a drum against your brain. It pulsates through the room like thunder shoved and trapped inside the walls.
“You miss him so much that you built this place just to hear his voice again.”
Your breath catches painfully. Your stomach drops. Because somewhere deep down, you know whoever this person – thing – is, is right. You live night after night in a fantasy where no one has left you behind. It’s not real. Everyone leaves.
The sound of silence.
The sound of silence.
The sound of silence.
The realization hits like the slowest kind of falling, that awful suspended moment before terror fully lands. When your mind screams to wake up, and nothing you do seems to work. You’re just trapped in creeping animation.
The thing that’s not your father steps closer. His body unfolds like the most grotesque of flowers, five petals shooting open to reveal rows and rows of sharp teeth, the father you still miss and love desperately, disappearing piece by piece beneath twisting vines and exposed muscle.
“You know that everyone leaves eventually.”
Somewhere, a grandfather clock begins chiming. It’s too loud. It’s too fast. You back into the counter hard enough to rattle dishes.
“Wake up,” he whispers.
The vines lash out toward you suddenly. Aiming to strike.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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12K words, FWB Eddie X fem!reader, 18+ Explicit Content -MDNI, use of "baby" as nickname, no use of y/n, little to no description of reader, set in Hawkins '90 -everyone's aged up accordingly, no mention of upside down.*fair amount of smut in this—it's a fwb plot... but also heavy angst & fluff!!
a/n: most of my ideas are inspired by a song - the concept for this came entirely through a playlist I made, so l added the tracklist. Feedback, comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading and as always, I hope you enjoy! xo, scarlet 💋
Struggling through a dry spell, an idea comes to you when your attractive friend Eddie vents about his recent disappointing hookups. What starts as casual fun gradually complicates as physical and emotional boundaries begin to blur.
“I keep recalling things we never did / Messy top lip kiss / How I long for our trysts / Without ever touching his skin /How can I be guilty as sin?”
A few years ago, you met Eddie Munson, thanks to an introduction from your then coworkers, Robin and Steve. What began as a casual acquaintance in a larger group quickly evolved into a genuine friendship.
But as with many great friendships, a new romance - this time with Matt - changed the dynamics. As your relationship with Matt grew, so did the distance between you and Eddie. Matt didn’t like him, his dislike fueled by a few key grievances: he accused Eddie of overcharging for weed, could barely tolerate Eddie’s metal music - and was visibly irritated by the number of times you dragged him to Eddie’s shows. Yet, beneath it all, Matt’s discomfort had a more personal edge. He was convinced there was something more to your friendship, despite your insistence on its platonic nature.
“Okay, sure, whatever you say,” Matt mocked. “But I’m telling you, he definitely wants to fuck you.”
Matt’s evidence included:
• “He never makes you pay for weed.” - Ah, the classic move of the charming drug dealer - Robin and Steve are also lucky recipients of Eddie's personal stash. Generosity? Sure. A sign of deeper feelings? Unlikely.
• “He flirts with you.” - Eddie flirts with everyone. This isn’t a private act of seduction - it’s his default setting. And sure, before you dated Matt maybe you indulged in Eddie’s flirty nature but it was just all in good fun.
• "He call's you - Baby." - The nickname was not some romantic gesture, Eddie's just a menace. It all started after a shift at Family Video, you and Robin went back to Steve's house. Eddie made an entrance, a blunt was passed, and you started rambling about the ridiculousness of the name "Baby" in Dirty Dancing. "You know, it's funny you hate it because 'Baby' suits you perfectly," Eddie quipped. You shot him a look of annoyance, but Eddie, with that trademark grin, decided it was a keeper and has called you it ever since.
• “The way he fucking looks at you.” - This is where the plot thickens. While the other signs are easily explained, you didn't quite see what Matt was ever referring to.
Yet, every time Matt voiced his theories, your mind couldn’t help but drift to thoughts of Eddie in bed. He had quite the reputation as a good fuck and it was undeniable that he was incredibly attractive. But the guilt of entertaining these thoughts, especially while with Matt, was crushing. So, you shoved them aside.
In December of '89, Matt accepted a job that meant relocating out of state. By then, your relationship had lost its spark. Of course, that is except for the one area where it still managed to flicker - the bedroom. You both knew it was time to let go, the idea of a long distance relationship wasn't practical when the only thing holding you together required physical proximity that you would no longer share.
Despite it being the obvious choice - the end of nearly two years together was tough, but as the saying goes, when one door closes, another opens. With Matt no longer in the picture, your calendar quickly filled with late nights and laughter, surrounded by Robin, Steve, Eddie, and your ever expanding social circle. It was the start of a new era, as you entered the new decade.
"These fatal fantasies / Giving way to labored breath / Taking all of me / We've already done it in my head / If it's make believe / Why does it feel like a vow / We'll both uphold somehow?”
Four months into being single, and the dry spell was becoming a cruel joke. Every date you'd been on had left much to be desired, as none of them ever ended with you on your back. Ultimately a waste of your time.
It was an added frustration to be out with Eddie and watch him glide from one partner to the next with such ease. You even found yourself feeling a bit envious of his conquests, because the more time you began spending with him, the more you understood why Matt had his suspicions.
On quite a few occasions, you caught Eddie's gaze lingering on you. The stolen glances and charged looks sent your heart racing. Gone were the days of pushing these thoughts away. Now, you found yourself indulging in them, late at night, hand between your thighs, wondering if the fantasies might ever become reality.
“Don’t play dumb, I know you fantasize. You could have me on my back every night.”
One night, after having your friends over for dinner, Eddie decided to stay and chill after Robin and Steve had left. He sprawled on your couch, legs draped over the coffee table, grumbling about the monotony of his recent casual encounters and the lack of sexual chemistry he'd been experiencing.
Eddie looked at you, cutting himself off mid rant, his fingers deftly rolling a blunt. "It's cool if I smoke in here, right? Or d'ya want me to go on the balcony?"
You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I don't usually love it, but why not for tonight?”
With a grin, Eddie continued on his ranting as he finished rolling. Lighting the blunt and taking a long drag when he finished his complaint.
"Okay, but bad sex is more often than not, still enjoyable," you said, in response to his last comment.
Eddie held out the blunt offering you to take a hit. While normally you’re pretty weary to cross fade, today was one of those 'fuck it' days, as you grabbed it from his fingers.
"I get what you're saying, but nothing's been like, mind-blowing. I was getting head the other day, and I was literally counting the minutes until it was over. I think it would've been more enjoyable if I'd just taken care of myself."
You let out a laugh, the smoke escaping in a light cloud. "You think counting maybe prolonged the experience a bit, bud?" Passing the blunt back to Eddie.
"No, Baby, the counting's what got me there." He smirked before taking another hit.
You rolled your eyes playfully, but his words sparked thoughts of your own dissatisfaction. It’d been too fucking long since you got laid.
The two of you sat there listening to the soft sounds of The Cure album you had on, as you took turns with the blunt. Eddie's gaze didn't leave you, his eyes focused on your lips - the movements of your mouth. He was entranced by the subtle way your lips parted and closed around the blunt. You were too lost in your own thoughts to notice his staring.
“Y’know I really think this is one of those grass is greener situations. l'd take the bad sex. There's only so much I can satisfy myself, and sometimes I- well, I just want to get railed." The words slipped out before you could fully think them through but as soon as they did, you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks.
Eddie's eyes widened slightly, a blush of his own creeping onto his face as he exhaled smoke. "Oh sure,’ he replied.
You'd always been open about discussing sex, but this was a new level of candor for you and it caught him by surprise. It also made his cock twitch.
You weren't sure what it was- the alcohol, the pot, the adrenaline from your embarrassment. Whatever it may be, Eddie's complaints mixed with your own dissatisfaction had an idea brewing and now was the time to act. You set your wine glass down, turned to face him, criss-crossing your legs on the couch. Passing what was left of the blunt back, you finally asked the question that's been on your mind for weeks.
”Eddie… are you attracted to me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.
"What?" He asked as he put the blunt out.
"Eddie," you pressed.
He chuckled, the sound a bit shaky. "Everyone thinks you're pretty, you know that.”
"That's not what I asked," you countered. "I'm asking if you think I'm like, hot - not just pretty.”
A smirk played on Eddie's lips as his eyes scanned over your figure, nodding. “Yeah, you’re hot,” he said, taking a sip of his beer and letting his eyes linger on how the soft fabric of your clothes hugged your chest. Truth be told, he thought you were fucking heaven sent.
"So why haven't you made a move? I've been single for months."
"You know me, baby. No attachments. Couldn't have you falling in love with me.”
You scoffed. "Really, that's your excuse?”
His gaze met yours, a touch of defensiveness in his eyes. "It's not an excuse. It's just how I am. I don't hook up with friends, it can get messy."
"Got it," you replied, considering letting it go, but curiosity had taken hold. "Do you ever fantasize about them, though?”
A wry smile appeared on his lips. "Depends on the friend, I guess.”
"Cut the shit, Munson.”
His smile grew. "Alright, yeah. A lot more than I probably should have.”
You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "If it's any consolation, I've fantasized about you a fair bit too.”
"Oh, yeah?" he breathed, his voice huskier than before.
"Mmm-hmm." You shook your head slowly, maintaining eye contact. You noticed the way Eddie's eyes darted down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.
"What about?" he asked.
"I could tell you," you whispered, "or I could show you.”
Eddie's laughter faltered as he looked away, running his hand through his hair. “Tempting," he whispered, leaning back trying to create some distance. His arousal, however, was unmistakable.
The room fell silent. You could see the inner conflict in his eyes: the struggle between desire and his self imposed boundaries. The sight of Eddie's hard cock straining against his jeans had your pulse quickening more than the conversation had. You felt yourself growing wet, the heat between your thighs demanding attention.
"So even though it's clear we both want this, you're willing to just let it go because of some vague principle?" you asked, clenching your jaw in frustration.
A dry, almost disbelieving laugh escaped him, his fingers drumming absently on his knee. 'I wouldn't want to complicate our friendship just to get off.'"
“And if I promised it wouldn't complicate anything, that nothing would have to change - it would just be a good time?”
His breath hitched at your words, his eyes locking onto you as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. His lips pressed tightly together, and he shifted uncomfortably, his hand instinctively rubbing the back of his neck as he fell silent for a moment, clearly lost in thought. “Then... maybe I’d, uh... maybe rethink some things.”
You nodded slightly, acknowledging his hesitation, but the urgency of your own desire remained, regardless of whether Eddie joined you or not.
“Well, think about it,” you said, standing and heading toward your bedroom. “You’re welcome to join me if you decide you’re in. If not, the spare key’s by the door. Just lock up, and I’ll get it next time.” You closed the door behind you, leaving him with his thoughts.
Eddie sat on the couch, contemplating for all of five minutes before making his decision. Of course, he wasn’t going to let this moment pass him by. He stood up, his mind racing, and walked toward your room.
When Eddie opened the door, he found you lying in bed, bathed in the amber glow of your lamp, only in your panties. You were lost in your own pleasure, hand moving beneath the fabric, eyes closed tight as breathy moans escaped your lips.
"Fuck," Eddie muttered under his breath, his gaze locked on the scene before him. He froze, taking in every detail. The gentle, desperate movements of your fingers, the soft sway of your breasts, and the way your lips formed an O with every soft whimper. He was mesmerized.
He moved closer, cautious not to disrupt the moment.
You whispered his name, soft and needy. “Eddie..."
The sound of your voice, so vulnerable and inviting, was nearly enough to push him over the edge. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that came from the very core of his being. As he stood at the end of the bed, your eyes fluttered open, taking in his presence.
You kept your eyes locked on him, focusing on his face, the way his gaze was fixed on you.
Looking at you like this, made him feel as if he was witnessing the eighth wonder of the world.
"What are you thinking about?" Eddie asked, needing to understand what was driving you.
"That this is your hand instead of mine, just like l've been imagining for weeks," you admitted, voice trembling slightly.
Eddie let out a soft groan, one you would hold in your mind, replaying it every time you found yourself in this position again.
“Can I see all of you?" he asked, desperation lacing his voice as he sat on the edge of your bed.
You nodded, slowly sliding your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, revealing your glistening cunt. You returned your hand, teasing yourself gently. Eddie's eyes were focused on you, the sight almost too much for him to bear, a low whimper escaping his lips.
"How would you touch me, if it were your fingers?" you asked, seductively.
Eddie slid up from his spot on the edge of the bed, closer to your side, as he began directing you on how he would pleasure you, eyes glued to your movements. "I'd start by gently tracing my fingers, just like you are now.”
You whimpered as he continued his instructions, caught between the fantasy he was describing and the reality of your own touch. His guidance was driving you wild, but the need for his direct touch was growing unbearable. Breathlessly, you said, "Eddie, please.”
“Tell me what you need,” he rasped, his eyes locked on yours.
“Touch me,” you pleaded.
Eddie knew what you meant: you wanted him to replace your fingers - but he needed to kiss you and at the vague request for his touch he couldn't help but use that as his cue. He leaned in, his body hovering over yours, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was rough, and raw as if years of restrained longing were unleashed in that heated moment. His lips were demanding, his tongue wrestled with yours, the taste of beer mixing with moscato. You bit his lip eliciting a deep groan from him. His free hand found its way to your thigh, gripping it tightly, driving you further into your own touch. The intensity of his actions only heightened your pleasure. You gasped into his mouth as your climax hit. Eddie’s grip on your thigh never letting up as you clung to him, struggling to steady yourself through your orgasm.
As the waves began to subside, you whispered raggedly, “I need you.”
Eddie trailed his hand from your thigh to your cunt, only for you to stop his hand. “No. I need more, I need you inside of me. Now.”
Eddie groaned at your desperate plea for him to fill you. Without a word, he began undressing. His breathing was labored as he quickly removed his shirt, tossing it aside. He fumbled with his jeans, eager and clumsy in his haste to free his hard cock. When he finally did, you let out an audible gasp, taking in the sight of him. He was so fucking perfect.
“How do you want it, baby?” He asked, eager to give you whatever you wanted.
“What have you fantasized about?”
Eddie hesitated, “We don’t have to -”
“Please, tell me,” you demanded.
“You, um, you’ve got great tits,” he all about moaned. “I think about you riding me a lot.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before you pushed him back to lean against the pillows, a sly smile on your lips. You reached for a condom from the nightstand, tearing open the wrapper with a quick, practiced motion, and rolled it over his throbbing cock. Eddie’s eyes followed your every move, sighing at your touch.
With a deep, steadying breath, you positioned yourself above him. Your hands rested on the headboard while his hands gripped your thighs, his fingers digging in as he watched you. Slowly, you began to lower yourself, the initial contact making both of you gasp. The incredible stretch of his cock stung as you lowered yourself down inch by inch. It was almost overwhelming, but so perfectly pleasurable. Eddie’s eyes widened, his breath coming in quick, ragged bursts.
“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth. His hands tightened on your thighs, reminding you just how much he wants this.
You continued to sink down, savoring the sensation of being filled. Once fully seated, you paused to adjust, getting accustomed to his size. Eddie wasn’t the longest you’d ever had, but by no means was he small. Close to 7 inches if you had to guess. He was however, the thickest not by an absurd amount but enough to notice the difference. He felt phenomenal.
You began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down. The room began filling with the sound of your mingled moans. As you established a steady rhythm, Eddie’s moans grew more frequent, his grip sure to leave bruises. “Fuuuuuck,” he repeated, his voice rough with pleasure.
You shifted from leaning forward to putting your full weight on him, arching your back slightly as you moved your hands from the headboard to behind you, resting them on his thighs. In this position, you had better control and began to increase your pace.
“Aghh - just like that,” Eddie groaned. “Show me how much you want it." Eddie’s eyes were locked on you, taking in every detail - the bounce of your breasts, the flush on your cheeks, the intense pleasure on your face. You looked stunning.
He moved his hands to your breasts, groaning as he squeezed them gently. He adjusted himself so he was sitting up, his hands moving to roam over the rest of your body as he began kissing your skin. He started at your collarbone and moved along your chest until he reached your left breast. Kissing and nipping at the soft skin before enveloping your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. You shuddered at the added stimulation, moving to rest your hands on his shoulder for better stability as he moved his mouth to your right nipple.
You were finding it hard to keep quiet, biting your lip to stifle your moans as the combination of his mouth and the fullness of his cock drove you closer to ecstasy.
Eddie, however, was having none of that. Removing his mouth from you chest, “Don’t hold back," he rasped. "Let the whole fucking building know how good it feels to have my cock inside you.”
Just like that, you let yourself moan freely, the sounds echoing in the room as you quickened your pace.
"Ooooohhh fuck,” you cried out as you could familiar the familiar sensation of your orgasm begin to build.
You swirled your hips, adding a tantalizing motion that made Eddie mumble curses of pleasure. His hands moved to your hips, gripping firmly as he reclined against the pillows. You leaned forward with him, placing your arms on his chest for support as you rode him with increased intensity.
“Such a good girl,” Eddie said in awe, his eyes locked on you as you chased your orgasm. The praise spurred you on, and you let out a loud cry. Eddie’s lips curled into a wry smile as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you.
“You like that, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
You whimpered a feeble “yes,” your voice barely audible as you tried to keep up with the intense pleasure.
“Thought you might,” he chuckled. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me,” Eddie instructed.
That was all it took. Your hips began to falter as your orgasm ripped through you, sending your body into a shuddering climax. Eddie’s groans of satisfaction grew louder as he watched you come undone on top of him. He gripped your hips tightly, taking over control and thrusting into you with a fierce rhythm, pushing you seamlessly into another orgasm.
As you came down, your body collapsed against Eddie's, still trembling from the aftermath of your third orgasm. Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, the intensity of the pleasure overwhelming you. Eddie, sensing your exhaustion, slowed his thrusts, his hands gently tangling in your hair as he lifted your face to look at him.
“Shit Eds” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I can come again.”
Eddie’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, his eyes gleaming with determination.
“Sure you can, baby. You haven’t even gotten what you wanted yet,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before repositioning you both.
The sudden loss of him inside you made you whimper, the emptiness leaving you desperate to be filled again. Eddie lifted you, placing you on your knees, and then knelt behind you. His hands took hold of your hips, and he lined himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you with a forceful, deep motion. The immediate fullness made you moan, the new position allowing him to penetrate you more deeply and hit your g-spot perfectly with every thrust.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” you cried out, your voice raw with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless rhythm.
“This is what you wanted, right, baby? To get railed.” Eddie teased, his voice a deep, gravelly whisper. His hands squeezed the flesh of your ass as he drove into you.
“Yes!” you cried out. “Please Eddie, harder,” tears streaming down your face. He responded by pounding into you just as you asked.
Leaning forward, Eddie kissed the skin along your back, his teeth grazing your flesh with gentle bites, adding another layer of sensation. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, fingers trembling from the strain as desperate cries of pleasure fell from your lips. Eddie’s left hand slipped between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing frantically.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, your voice quivering.
Eddie’s fingers worked your clit with determined precision, the added stimulation making it clear you were about to lose it. As the pleasure built to its peak, you screamed his name, your body shaking uncontrollably as you came. Eddie’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts remaining steady as he felt you clenching around him.
“There it is,” he groaned, his voice filled with satisfaction as he felt you coming undone.
Your mascara ran down your cheeks in streaks, merging with your tears as you reached the height of your pleasure. Eddie continued to pound into you as your orgasm subsided, savoring the way you responded to him. He was relentless, driven by his own need to reach his climax. He removed his hand from your clit, gripping your hips firmly as he thrusted into you with increased force.
“I want you to cum with me,” he growled.
"I-I ahhh..." Your words were swallowed by desperate moans as Eddie kept thrusting.
"You can do it," he encouraged, his voice low and smooth. "I know you can.”
Eddie's movements grew more intense, his rhythm never faltering as he drove you toward another climax. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his own breath coming in ragged bursts as he neared his release.
"Atta girl," Eddie growled as you clenched around him, crying out surrendering to the pleasure. The sensation was all-consuming, a wave of tingles from head to toe that left you gasping, his climax hitting him with equal intensity at the same moment. He let out a string of moans, his thrusts becoming erratic, as his grip on your ass tightened riding out his release.
As the pleasure subsided, Eddie collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, basking in the afterglow. The intensity of the night had left you feeling dizzy and euphoric, your body still tingling from multiple orgasms - five mind blowing orgasms, to be exact. The most you’d ever had with a partner before was three — and while still sensational it was nothing compared to this. Making it clear that Eddie Munson was the best fuck you’ve ever had.
As you started to come down, you glanced over at Eddie. He was staring at the ceiling, his face a mix of disbelief and deep thought. "Eddie, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?”
"Can I level with you?”
"Of course," you replied.
"It's pretty obvious that what we just had was too good to be a one-off," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "And it's not going to be easy to just go back like this never happened. I mean, I can't just pretend I don't know you've got a praise kink." He teased.
"Eddie!" You laughed, giving him a playful nudge.
"I'm only half kidding. I clocked that shit when I tried to teach you guitar, this just confirmed it," he admitted with a grin.
You rolled your eyes, a smirk on your lips. “So, what's your point?”
He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow and looking at you seriously. “If you can handle keeping it casual, I think we should do this again.”
“Fucking hell, Munson, didn't we address this on the couch? I wanted to fuck you, I'm not in love.”
Eddie laughed. “Right, I know. But sometimes it can lead to that, and I just want to make sure you understand if we continue to hook up it will never be anything but physical. I can never offer you more, is that clear?"
You grinned. “Crystal.”
"So, friends with benefits?” He asked.
You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as your eyes locked with his.
"It's a Sexually Explicit Kind of Love Affair"
Two months had passed since you and Eddie established your friends with benefits arrangement, and you had both adhered to a set of rules: open communication, no exclusivity, and keeping things private. Your frequent hookups had become a thrilling part of your routine, each encounter more intense than the last, and quite a few that were unforgettable.
Fucked You in the Bathroom When We Went to Dinner: It was Vickie’s birthday dinner, and you and Eddie both attended with your friends. Amid the celebrations, you exchanged knowing glances across the table. When an opportunity presented itself, and everyone was distracted with photos, you both slipped away in the chaos, heading straight for the restaurant’s bathroom.
As soon as the door closed behind you, Eddie's hands were on you, pulling you close. He pressed your back against the wall, as his lips found yours in a rough kiss. His mouth began trailing kisses along your jaw as you you reached down to unbuckle his belt. Eddie's pants were down around his knees, his hands hiking your dress up, growling when he saw you had no panties on. You lifted your leg, resting it on the sink, back still pressed to the wall as Eddie wasted no time before guiding himself into you. Your hands immediately threading through his hair as he sunk in.
Eddie's thrusts were urgent and desperate. "Fuck, can’t get enough of you," he gasped, his breath hot against your neck.
You could only respond with a series of breathy moans. The pleasure building rapidly as Eddie's movements grew more intense. His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he drove into you.
Your climax was approaching quickly, and you couldn't help but let out shrieks of pleasure. Eddie's hand reluctantly coming to cover your mouth to stifle the sounds. He loved hearing you, but not here.
“Shh, baby. I know," he whispered, feeling you beginning to clench around him. You bit the palm of his hand to stop the scream that was desperate to escape you as your climax hit. His thrusts growing erratic as he came with you, burying his face in your neck.
As you both caught your breath, you quickly adjusted your clothes and fixed Eddie's hair. You walked out first, heading back to the table. A few minutes later, Eddie returned, drink in hand, as if he'd been at the bar the whole time, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he sat down.
Knee Deep in the Passenger Seat: It'd been a lively evening out at the bar playing pool with Chrissy, Eddie and his bandmates. You were keenly aware of the effect your outfit was having on Eddie as you'd chosen a particularly short skirt that barely covered your lacy black panties if you moved too much. So each time you bent over to take a shot, your underwear was tantalizingly visible.
As you lined up for another shot, Eddie approached, leaning in close. To any onlookers it would seem like he was giving you a tip to make your shot.
"You're such a fucking tease," he whispered into the shell of your ear.
You turned your head slightly, catching his eye with a sly grin. "I know, but you love it," you whispered back.
Eddie's eyes were transfixed on you as he walked back to his spot against the wall. As you knelt over the table to take your shot, a smirk tugged at your lips knowing he was clearly struggling to focus on anything other than the view you were providing.
If Eddie could have had his way, he would have sunk to his knees right there and ate you out while you were bent over that pool table. But patience is a virtue.
As you turned to face him after landing your shot, you couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him. A stoic expression was plastered on his face, as if he were maintaining his composure. But then you noticed the vice grip he had on his drink, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him.
When it was time to leave, Eddie offered to take you home. "Chris, I’ve got her. I pass her apartment on my way home anyway.”
While that was true, you knew that wasn't his plan.
You made your way to Eddie’s van, his eyes never left you, locked on the way your hips swayed with each step. He opened the passenger door for you, and you slid into the seat. As you settled in, you glanced up at Eddie, still standing beside you. A sly grin tugged at his lips as he stepped in, leaving you confused until he knelt in front of you, shutting the door behind him. His expression was one of eager anticipation.
Eddie’s hands came up to grip your thighs, pushing your skirt up. ”I've been wanting to taste you all fucking night," he hummed, his voice low and filled with need.
You looked down at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. "Aw look at you, did I tease you so much that you can't even wait?”
Eddie’s big doe eyes, looked a lot less innocent in this position, darkening at your words. Hunger was written all over his face.
In an instant he pulled your panties to the side, leaning forward so his head was nestled between your thighs. His tongue making contact with your bare slit, with a tantalizing slow lick. You gasped at the feeling. Eddie moaned against your pussy, "You taste so goddamn good,” his voice vibrating through your core.
The moment his tongue touched your clit, he was relentless, alternating between licking and sucking. Your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he savored you.
Within just a few short minutes you were a moaning mess, hands tangled in his hair, breath ragged, eyes screwed tight as you could feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm. Then, suddenly, Eddie pulled away, and your release was ripped from you. His face flushed and glistening with your essence, looked up at you with a smirk.
“Look at that, I can be just as much of a tease as you," he rasped.
You whined at the loss of contact. "Please, Eddie.”
“You’ll have to wait, baby.” He said, readjusting your underwear and skirt, wiping his mouth as he dipped out of the van and walked to the drivers side.
Truth be told, this was just as upsetting for him as it was for you. You were intoxicating and if he was being honest he’d love nothing more than to continue to devour your sweet cunt until you came all over his tongue - multiple times. But he thought it only fair that you feel the same strain that he had all night. He’d make it worth the wait when he got you to his trailer.
You're on your knees, I'm on the case: You had the day off, so what better way to spend it than in Eddie's bed? When you arrived at his trailer, Eddie answered the door shirtless, wearing only boxers with a towel draped over his shoulder. His face lit up with a smile as he greeted you.
"Hey, you," Eddie said, stepping aside to let you in, "I’m about to shower. I’ll be out soon. Feel free to watch TV, the remote’s on the table."
As Eddie went to shower, you settled on his couch, finishing the episode of Seinfeld that was on. After about ten minutes, restlessness began to creep in.
You could hear the shower running, steam leaking into the hall since Eddie hadn’t shut the door completely. You made your way to the bathroom, knocking lightly before walking in to let him know you were there.
"Be out in a second, just gotta rinse my hair.”
"Mind if I join ya instead?"
There was a brief pause before he responded, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Sure, come on in.”
You quickly undressed and slipped into the shower, the steam enveloping you. You faced Eddie as the water cascaded down his hair, some droplets hitting your body. Eddie glanced over at you with a grin.
You gave him a playful smirk before dropping to your knees, positioning yourself in front of his hardening cock. Eddie’s jaw fell slack in shock as his eyes locked onto you, filled with anticipation.
Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth. The warmth of the water mingled with the heat of your breath, and Eddie's response was an immediate soft whimper.
"Ahhh," he grunted, his voice thick with pleasure as you hollowed your cheeks.
You began to move, sliding your lips up and down his length with practiced ease. Eddie's fingers laced through your hair as he struggled to maintain his composure.
"Holy shit," he gasped. "You're so... ugh, so good. That feels so fucking good.”
You continued your rhythm, your mouth and tongue working him expertly. Eddie's groans grew louder, the pleasure clearly overwhelming him.
"Oh fuck, yes," he panted, his hips thrusting gently to match your movements.
The water continued to fall around you both, merging with the sounds of Eddie's pleasure as you pushed him closer to the edge.
"Don't stop, baby. Pl-please don't stop," he urged, his voice breaking. "I'm gonna, fuck, I'm-”
With a final, deep stroke, Eddie came hard. You kept your mouth on him, sucking every drop as he moaned and gasped, his hands gripping the shower wall for dear life bracing himself.
His face was flushed, a mix of steam and sweat glistening on his skin. He looked down at you with awe and satisfaction. "You're fucking amazing, you know that?"
You stood up, and Eddie cupped your face, pulling you into a heated kiss. As your mouths moved together, his cock began hardening again, ready for round two in his room.
"I know, "Baby, No Attachment!”
As the months passed the frequency of your encounters with Eddie had evolved beyond merely getting off. At first you considered that it was just your friendship deepening, but as time went on, you couldn't help but feel that these interactions between you were teetering the line of something more.
Eddie's band practices had effortlessly blended into your weekly routine.
“Want to come to practice again?” he’d ask, flashing a grin.
The first time he invited you, you joked about whether he had a fantasy of hooking up in Gareth’s garage or something. Eddie only laughed and said, “Nah, I just figured you might enjoy hearing us play and I thought it’d be nice to have you there.”
Of course, you went—and enjoyed every second of it, maybe even more than the shows. Seeing Eddie perform offstage, goof around with his bandmates, and brainstorm new arrangements was incredibly fun to witness.
By the third week of attending practice, Eddie extended another invitation.
"Want to come with me to visit Wayne this Sunday?"
You hadn’t seen Wayne since he’d given Eddie the trailer, and although the invite surprised you, you agreed. Wayne’s warm hospitality was a delight, and seeing Eddie with his uncle gave you new insight into his life—it felt special that he shared it with you.
Soon, you began noticing changes in your own habits. Instead of going to social events alone, you often found yourself riding with Eddie. Your weekend hookups had blossomed into near daily occurrences, leading you to spend a lot more time at his trailer which offered far more privacy than your apartment—especially since you and Eddie were rather loud. Eddie's loud anyway, but when he's inside you he doesn't shut up. Always talking you through it, telling you how good you're making him feel and he loves hearing what he does to you, so you never hold back.
On more than a few occasions you’d accidentally fallen asleep over there, and eventually Eddie just began inviting you to stay the night in the first place. Gradually, your personal items like a toothbrush, a few changes of clothes, and your favorite books made their way over. You were there so often that it was shifting from a convenient arrangement to something that felt more like a shared space.
The boundaries you’d set were being tested, and it was becoming harder to maintain the idea that this was purely physical. The line between attraction and emotional connection was blurring, and although Eddie had always insisted that things should remain casual, his actions often contradicted that.
In those soft moments with him—whether at practice, at Wayne's, or lying in his bed wrapped up in his arms after another incredible fuck—you found yourself dreaming of more. Every time you did, you couldn’t help but think back to Matt's insistence that there had always been something between you and Eddie. At the time, you’d brushed it off as Matt’s jealousy, eventually acknowledging the underlying attraction. But now, with everything that had happened between you two, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe something more had always been simmering beneath the surface.
You didn’t dare say it though. You wanted to remain the “chill girl” who didn’t push. But the more time passed, the more you found yourself caught between holding your tongue and addressing the growing complexity of the situation.
"It's fine, it's cool, you can say that we're nothing but you know the truth."
The summer heat was beginning to wane as you and Eddie arrived at Steve’s Labor Day party.
You were enjoying yourself, chatting with Nancy when you overheard a conversation nearby. Eddie was talking to Chrissy, who had just referred to you and he as a couple.
“Oh, no, we’re not together,” Eddie said, a dismissive edge in his voice as he responded.
The words hit you like a slap. You knew what you had signed up for, but it still stung, especially when the lines had been blurring for months.
You attempted to shake it off, focusing on the friends around you. However, as the evening wore on, the frustration you felt was hard to ignore. Eddie’s behavior had been increasingly confusing. And this comment felt like the final straw - if your friends could see it, why couldn't he?
When the party ended, Eddie drove you back to his trailer with Metallica blasting through the speakers. The music doing little to ease the anger you were feeling.
Once inside Eddie reached for you, his hands gripping your waist, as his lips found yours. The kiss felt good, almost intoxicating, but your anger quickly reclaimed its hold as the words "we're not together" echoed in your mind.
You pulled back, needing a moment to regain your composure. Eddie’s eyes searched yours, confusion on his face.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked softly.
"I'm not really feeling it right now,” you said firmly, pulling away from his touch. "I think I'm going to head home actually."
Eddie’s face fell for a moment before a small smile curved on his lips. "You don't need to go, stay the night. We can watch a movie.”
A few months ago, this invitation would have felt like a friendly gesture. After all, the beauty of a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement is that it starts with a foundation of friendship. But tonight it was just a bitter reminder of how these nights have morphed into something much more complex. At the start of your arrangement, movie nights often transitioned from watching the film to fucking until the credits rolled. This felt natural, expected. But now the dynamic of movie nights has grown significantly more intimate; cuddling on the couch, Eddie softly playing with your hair, and gentle kisses between scenes. All gestures that are only typical in, well - relationships. You've had enough.
"Eddie, are you being avoidant or are you truly oblivious to what's going on?"
Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”
"Us. This," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "It feels different, and it has for a while now." You took a deep breath, struggling to steady your voice. "Eddie, even our friends notice it.”
"This is about Chrissy's comment?" he asked, annoyance seeping into his voice.
"You were so quick to dismiss it.”
"We're not a couple, so that probably has something to do with it," he said, with a laugh. "What was I supposed to say?”
You gave him a short nod, as you began to gather your things. "It's not even about what you said, it's about what you're not saying."
The frustration was evident on Eddie's face. "I thought we were both on the same page about this," he said, following you.
"Dammit, Eddie," you turned towards him, your voice rising. "We were, but it’s hard to feel like we’re still casual when my favorite bra lives in your dresser!”
Eddie’s expression shifted, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but he still held his ground. "From the start, I told you I don’t do relationships. I never promised you anything more than what we agreed on.”
You scoffed. “I know, and that’s exactly why I’ve kept my mouth shut for so long. But you’ve pulled me into every aspect of your life, and it’s not the same anymore. If you weren’t so hung up on that concept, maybe you’d admit what you’re feeling.”
“Don’t," he said sternly. "Don't try and make me out to be the bad guy because you couldn't keep your own feelings in check.”
His words felt like a punch in your gut. You could feel the lump take perch in your throat, trying to swallow it back but the tears were coming.
Eddie’s expression softened as he noticed your your eyes glistening. He watched helplessly as you continued to pack, his frustration morphing into anguish as tears streamed down your face.
"Wait,” he pleaded. "Let's talk, we can take a step back.”
Your hands shook as you stuffed your clothes into your bag, sobs coming in ragged, painful gasps. “A step? We'd have to take twenty," you choked out, your voice breaking.
Eddie looked away, struggling to reconcile your pain with his own fears. "I just, I'm sorry I confused you. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea.”
"Maybe you didn't intend for things to change, but they did. We both let them. I did because I liked it, why did you Eddie?"
His stomach twisted at that.
“Every rule we set, you broke," you continued, bitterness lacing your voice. "It was all ‘let’s keep it discreet’ until you kissed me between songs at practice. What the fuck was that?! ‘We need open communication,’ but you never talked about any line we crossed." Your voice rose despite your sobs. "For fucks's sake Eddie, we haven't been exclusive yet for six months, you’ve called after me! Going as far as turning down others because you want me in your bed —whether we fuck or we don’t."
Eddie stood still, motionless, as the weight of your words sunk in.
"You can try to downplay this all you want, but deep down you know. And it's why your past hookups could never satisfy you the way I do.” Tears streamed down your face as you glared at Eddie.
The silence grew heavy between you as he struggled to find a response.
"I don't know what you want me to say. I can’t just flip a switch and become something I’m not. I made my stance clear from the beginning."
You shook your head in disappointment. "Got it." Your tears fell harder, and Eddie’s own eyes were on the verge of tears as he watched you zip up your bag.
“Baby,” he started, his voice wavering as he reached out a hand towards you.
“Don’t, Eddie,” you scolded. “You don't wanna admit what this is? Fine…. But this, us, it’s done.”
A look of confusion and frustration flashed on Eddie's face you finished speaking. He seemed to get only a fraction of what you were saying.
"Okay, okay," he said, his voice cracking with desperation. "We'll just go back to how it was before. I mean, we can just forget about all this..."
"You're not getting it, Eds," you replied, your voice steady despite the tears. "I can't be friends."
Panic was apparent on his face, as his tears threatened to burst free. "No, don’t say that," he pleaded. "Please don’t fucking say that. I’m sorry I led you on. But we can go back—just like it was. We can fix this."
"Eddie, it wasn't just that. This whole thing between us has made me realize that maybe… maybe I had feelings for you long before we hooked up.”
Eddie's face pales, his panic escalating as he struggles to process what you've just admitted. "What the fuck is happening right now?" His voice rises in distress. He collapses onto the couch, his body trembling as the gravity of the situation hits him full force.
”Before we, before this, you said you didn't," he mutters, almost to himself, as he tries to reconcile your words with his memories.
"I didn’t realize it then," you admit, your voice breaking.
Eddie’s cheeks were wet with fallen tears, his hands shaking as he held his face, listening to you explain.
"I never would’ve let anyone else call me a nickname I hated. Anyone else’s persistence would’ve been stopped, but it just sounded so pretty coming from your mouth..." Your voice cracks with emotion. "And I think being honest with myself about that, along with everything we’ve been doing... I've realized that maybe I was being a fool to think it was ever just attraction."
"Goddammit," he chokes out, voice thick with regret. "I can’t—"
You cut him off, knowing exactly what he was about to say. "I know, Eds. You've made it clear," you gasped, sobs breaking through the words. "You were right to worry this would get messy. I'm sorry I told you I could handle it." You take a deep breath and look at him one last time, the ache in your chest almost unbearable. You sling your bag over your shoulder and head for the door. "I'd probably do it again though."
“Baby, please. I don't want to lose you," he says, his voice a harsh whisper as he tries to hold back his emotions.
Your heart breaks at his words, but you know this is the choice you have to make, even if it's not what you want.
"I have to go," you say, turning and walking out of the trailer.
“You just need a better life than this / You need somethin' I can never give”
Eddie’s tears fell uncontrollably as you left. Watching you walk away was like a rift tearing through time and space, an unbearable ache that pierced his soul.
His mind spiraled in a loop, like a broken record that kept repeating the same line: It was a mistake. He knew better, he knew better than to get involved with you, but he had, and now you were gone. Eddie had wanted to believe that you could handle something casual, he risked it because he had an insatiable hunger that only you had satiated. His own denial ran so deep he hadn’t even fully accepted the magnitude of what was happening between the two of you until your words hit him like a freight train tonight. But as Eddie sat there, drenched in regret, his mind wandered to all things you.
Eddie had always been branded the freak for being a little outside the box, and while he stayed true to himself it was always a bit toned down when he met new people. However when he met you, he knew he didn't have to do that. While you could fit neatly into the box, you didn't care to. Eddie was instantly captivated by you, and it wasn't just because you were stunning - it was your wit, and charm that pulled him in.
He could never forget the first time he realized he wanted to kiss you. It was one of the early times you hung out, that night you were complaining about "Dirty Dancing." You just kept rambling - so comically irritated, he found it hilarious and he wanted to just shut you up with his lips. He couldn't help himself coining, "Baby" for you. It felt right rolling off his tongue, and even though you shot him an annoyed look, he could’ve sworn he saw a hint of a smile. He then proceeded to try and get you to reenact the lift scene from the movie, but you refused with a firm “Fuck no, Munson.” Robin wouldn't either, but Steve, high as a kite, agreed. Of course it ended with them flat on the floor and the four of you laughing your asses off.
For whatever reason, that night marked a turning point for your friendship. The two of you began spending time together outside of your shared circle. It was always a little touchy, a little flirty, and Eddie constantly had to push the urge to kiss you out of his mind.
Steve was always trying to persuade Eddie to just go for it, but Eddie wasn’t interested. He typically only hooked up with the same person about three times — if ever more than once. He feared that if he ever got involved with you, he wouldn’t be able to go back, and commitment was something he wasn't into. Fast forward three years and nothing's changed. Still, one night around two years ago he nearly let his guard down.
A group of you had gathered at a nearby bar before Corroded Coffin’s first paid show at The Hideout.
“Let me buy a round for you guys, a little liquid courage before tonight!" you insisted. Gareth joked that it wasn't necessary when they had Eddie's good luck charm — you. “Is that why you keep me around, Munson?” you teased, planting a playful kiss on his cheek. “For a little extra luck,” you said with a wink before heading to the bar.
In that moment, Eddie was certain he had no choice but to finally kiss you, like the tension between you both had been building up to this very point.
When you returned with a round of tequila shots, your cheeks flushed and your smile bright, you explained that the handsome guy at the bar — Matt — asked you out and then proceeded to pay for the round of shots when you'd said yes.
As Jeff raised his shot and toasted, "To Matt!" Eddie looked at you, realizing that it was better this way. It would have been foolish to kiss you. You deserved someone who could offer you more.
Eddie’s mind whirled, jumping from that almost-kiss to the moment everything changed on your couch. He should’ve left that night. He should’ve walked out before anything happened. But he didn’t. Instead he gave in to everything he had always wanted. You were sensational— the way your body responded to him, the way you sounded, the way you made him feel —it was indescribable. He shouldn’t have done it because he was right to know himself. After that one taste, he never wanted to go without. He felt selfish for this.
The last six months together had shown him things he’d been trying to ignore. He recognized the subtle shifts —the moments when it stopped being solely about the raw thrill of pleasure. Looking back it was probably June when things first moved from casual to a connection that hinted at something more. Your presence had turned his bed into a sacred oasis, where he felt truly seen and understood. The laughter, the warmth, the intimacy — it was different. It was something he came to cherish. Yet, every time it felt like it was too much, he would push it out of his head, trying to drown out the truth that he felt something more. Even if he wanted to risk it all for you, he couldn’t. He wasn’t good enough to make you his.
This painful realization was a truth he had to face. His fear of inadequacy and his belief that he couldn’t sustain a meaningful relationship had driven a wedge between you. And now, with you gone, he was left grappling with the reality that he had pushed away the one person who had made him question his own defenses. Sitting on his couch, a headache pounding from his tears, he tried to sleep, searching for some sort of peace.
In the weeks that followed, Eddie rarely visited his bedroom. It was a space tainted by your absence. His home felt hollow, so he picked up extra shifts at the diner and crashed at Gareth’s when he could. He thought about reaching out to you, admitting that you were right, that he loved you too, but he knew it wouldn’t change a fucking thing. He still couldn’t give you what you wanted. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, not when he didn’t believe he was enough.
Eddie knew that you deserved the best. And he, well he was still a pot dealer, bussing tables to make ends meet and for some free food while dreaming of a future with his band. How could he be the right person for you when he didn’t have much to offer?
Eddie had been so absorbed in his regret that he had drifted from the usual social circle. The only time he’d seen Steve and Robin since your departure was after one of his shows the last weekend in September. They approached him, and Eddie, looking weary and regretful, apologized for not being around much. He wanted desperately to ask about you—God, he did—but he struggled to find the right words.
When Steve and Robin happened to mention they hadn’t heard from you either, Eddie’s heart sank. You were probably avoiding them, likely to keep from running into him. Steve, with a knowing look, asked if the two of you had gotten involved. Eddie gave a brief, vague answer that painted a picture of your arrangement without exposing too much.
“Maybe try reaching out to her though," Eddie suggested.
Robin nodded solemnly. “Of course,” she replied, understanding the complexity of the situation without needing more.
The weeks blurred as Eddie threw himself into the band, trying to escape the gnawing emptiness. He poured his frustration and guilt into every gig, hoping it would drown out the pain. While it was an escape, it never lasted—the minute he was offstage, it came rushing back. The real struggle was when he had no choice but to go home, to a space haunted by the memory of you, and what he almost could've had.
“Back when we were still changin' for the better / Wanting was enough / For me, it was enough"
It was the kind of night that makes you want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over your head, except you weren’t in bed. You were behind the wheel of your car, heading home after leaving the man that you loved.
As the tears flowed freely, your mind drifted to the most serious relationships you’d had: your college boyfriend, or your relationship with Matt - both seemed like mere practice compared to what you shared with Eddie. He wasn’t just the best fuck you’d ever had, he was the best person you’d ever known. The thought of never being around him again was agonizing.
Returning to your apartment felt like a warm welcome from an old friend. You had spent nearly all of August entwined in Eddie’s bedsheets, living for the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have a future together.
You uncorked a fresh bottle of Riesling, not even bothering with a glass as you tried to drown out the fact that Eddie was never truly yours.
Weeks after leaving Eddie, the silence was deafening. The ache of not hearing from him, of not knowing how he was, ate at you incessantly. You knew that this was your choice, but you'd still expected some sign — any sign — that he was still there, still holding onto something, still thinking of you.
You threw yourself into work, hoping that staying busy would numb the pain. But this came at a price —you isolated yourself from your friends, avoided their calls, and shut yourself off from the world that might remind you of Eddie.
When Robin buzzed your intercom one evening, her arrival was a welcome disruption to your self-imposed exile. She stood at your door, pizza and ice cream in hand, a silent understanding in her eyes.
"Hey," she said softly, a warm smile breaking through her concern. "I thought you could use some company.”
You invited her in, your heart heavy as you tried to muster a smile. You sat together in the living room, and for the first time in weeks, you let your emotions spill out.
Between sobs, you managed to ask, "How is he?"
Robin took a deep breath, clearly choosing her words carefully. "He hasn't been around either. But Steve and I saw him last weekend. He’s been busy with the band. They're doing really well, working hard to catch the eye of an A&R rep to help develop them. When we told him we hadn’t heard from you, he briefly explained why that might be... and not that I wouldn't have anyway, but he was the one who suggested I come by.”
He had thought of you. That was enough to make you break down again. Robin wrapped her arms around you, offering what comfort she could.
“It’s okay," she whispered.
She stayed with you for a few hours, reassuring you that in time, things would get better. As she was getting ready to leave, you told her that while you missed everyone, it was still too hard to face them right now. You needed more time
She nodded, understanding. "We’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”
As Robin left, you felt a glimmer of hope amidst the sadness. But even with that hope, moving forward still felt impossible. You almost worked up the courage to attend Jonathan and Nancy’s Halloween party, but after getting dressed, you couldn’t bring yourself to go. A week later, you had plans to meet Steve and Chrissy for lunch, but the thought of confronting your emotions made you sick to your stomach. It was still too soon to be around the people who reminded you of Eddie. So, you stayed away, cocooned in your sorrow, hoping that someday the pain would ease enough for you to rejoin the life you had left behind.
“And from the outside / It looks like you're tryin' lives on / I miss the old ways / You didn't have to change/ But I guess I don't have a say / Now that we don't talk”
It was the third weekend of November, and you’d decided to go out for drinks with some colleagues. You were at a bar you’d never been to before, located on the other side of town — quite far from the usual spots you and your friends frequented. With the slim chance of running into anyone you knew, you let your guard down and enjoyed the evening.
You were so engrossed in your conversation that you almost missed it. At first, you thought you’d imagined it, but then you heard it again. Your stomach dropped, and a wave of heat washed over you as you recognized Eddie’s unmistakable voice. Looking around, it was Gareth you spotted first, and as you searched for Eddie, your heart sank. He looked drastically different —his once long hair was now a buzz cut, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, while dressed in a blue striped button-down. His signature leather jacket was draped over the back of his chair, the only remnant of the man you remembered.
Despite your attempts to refocus on your colleagues, your attention kept drifting back to Eddie and the band. They were celebrating with a round of shots, and you wondered if they were marking a milestone. Since the round of drinks you’d suggested for their first paid gig, you knew they had a tradition of celebrating this way. Your chest fluttered as you overheard Eddie’s toast. It seemed the local station had agreed to start playing their music, and they were promised a small tour around neighboring states in the new year.
Watching the band’s journey over the past three years — early gigs at house shows to paid performances at dive bars — you knew you had to say something. Not just to Eddie but to all of them. You were proud of their progress, and after witnessing their hard work at countless practices this year, it felt right to acknowledge their accomplishments. You couldn't deny that it almost felt kismet, that you were here tonight.
As your coworkers began wrapping up their night, you excused yourself. You made your way over to the band’s table, your heart racing. As you approached their table, Gareth’s eyes lit up as he saw you.
“Well, look who it is!” Gareth exclaimed.
Eddie turned, his smile dropping as he took in your presence.
“Of all the gin joints, you walk into the one I’m in?” you joked, attempting to ease the awkwardness. The band chuckled, and you continued, “I couldn’t help but overhear you guys. Just wanted to come over and say congratulations. I know how hard you’ve all worked.”
The band echoed their gratitude, and Gareth quickly suggested you join them. A sudden, overwhelming discomfort gripped you. This was a mistake. Every lingering feeling you had for Eddie came rushing back, and you struggled to maintain your composure.
“Oh, thank you, but I really should get going," you said, trying to mask the unease bubbling in your chest. "But I’m really happy for you all!”
As you turned to leave, Eddie stood and called after you. “Baby, wait!"
There it was — the nickname only he ever used, the one you’d been desperate to hear. You stopped and turned slightly, facing him as he reached you.
"I, um, just wanted to say thanks for that. I really appreciated you coming to the table.”
"Of course," you replied softly, your heart hammering in your chest.
His eyes roamed over your figure as he took in the way your dress fit, and a low, almost involuntary groan escaped him. "Wow, that dress, you... you look incredible.”
You gave him a thankful nod. It hurt you to hear him say that, knowing you'd bought this dress months ago solely with the intention of him taking it off.
"Me? Look at you. You look so... I don't know. Refined, maybe?”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Is that good or…?"
"Oh, y'know you always look good," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "But I'd be lying if I said the hair didn't shock me a bit at first," you admitted.
Eddie's eyes softened, and he responded with a chuckle. "It's weird for me, still. I haven't had a buzz cut since middle school. But I just needed... a change."
His words hit harder than you expected, and you felt the sting of unshed tears prick at your eyes.
He smiled, weakly, one that looked forced and burdened with sorrow. “I want you to know I thought about reaching out, but I wasn't sure..." he trailed off.
You nodded again, appreciating the sentiment, a small smile on your lips as you tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. "I really should go, but I am truly so proud of you, Eddie," you said, your voice wavering. “Since the moment I met you, I’ve seen how hard you work for what you want. I'm truly so happy that it's paying off.
The words seemed to break something in him. Instinctively, he reached out, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. "I've missed you," he breathed into your hair.
You hugged him tightly, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I've missed you too," you whispered back, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped, and you wished you could stay there forever. But as much as you wanted to linger, you knew you had to go. You slowly pulled away, forcing a smile through the tears. "I'm really glad I got to see you," you said softly.
Eddie looked at you, as if his gaze tore right through you. As if, he were on the verge of saying something more, but he simply nodded. "Me too," he said quietly.
“And I’d give up forever to touch you / ‘cause I know that you feel me somehow / you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be / and I don’t want to go home right now”
The ride home felt like déjà vu. Another teary-eyed drive to your apartment after walking away from the man you loved.
Once you were home, you sank into the couch. Wrapped in a blanket, tears streamed down your face as The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead album played on the record player. For the 17th of November, the weather was a bit of a mess. It honestly felt poetic, the thunderstorm mirroring the emotions you were feeling. Every crack of thunder echoed your sobs.
About an hour into your pity party, you were starting to regain some composure when the buzz of the intercom startled you. You figured it was your neighbor, who often used the wrong buzzer, so you hit the button to let them in. Just as you were about to lay back in your spot on the couch, you heard a knock at your apartment door. Curious and a bit irritated, you peered through the peephole and froze. It was Eddie, drenched from the rain, with tears streaming down his face. Your heart raced as you swung the door open, and he walked in, shutting the door behind him.
"Eddie, what-" Before you could utter another word, he started rambling.
“What are the fucking odds you’d be at that bar tonight?” he began. “On a night that was supposed to be a highlight in my life, and all I wanted was to share it with you.” His words came out in fractured gasps, his tears mixing with the rain on his face.
“When you said I fought for everything I wanted, it felt like a knife twisting in my chest. Because baby, it’s... it's a fucking lie when I let you leave.”
“I should’ve told you this at the bar,” he choked, his tears falling harder now. “It felt like fucking fate that you were there tonight, and I still let you walk away." A bitter laugh escaped him. "Again, I let you walk away again.... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way things turned out. I should've fought for you, for us. I let you go because I couldn’t admit I loved you. Even though you knew —of course fucking you knew —because you see me, all of me. And you’ve loved me through it, even when I didn’t think it was possible.” He buried his face in his hands, wiping his tears and catching his breath.
“I was convinced I wasn’t enough for you,” he continued. “But you wanted me all the same. I’m sorry that I didn't say this weeks ago. I’m sorry for being so scared that I'm not what you deserve, that I let you walk out of my life —because every day without you has been fucking hell.”
He paused, his breaths coming in jagged, broken waves. Your own breaths were heaving, everything you'd wanted him to say, all the pent up tension, finally pouring out.
“I thought you were better off without me. I thought I could move on, try to forget it... but the goddamn world would have to stop before I could ever stop feeling this for you."
“Eddie,” you gasped.
Eddie stepped forward, his hands cupping your face. “It’s always been you, Baby." He paused for a moment; his big doe eyes swallowing you whole. "I'm not sure if I'm the man you deserve, but I'd like to try if you’ll have me.”
You nodded at his words, your tears streaming down your face.
You leaned in, a mere inch away from his lips, prompting Eddie to close the gap.
The first kiss in months —soft and tender, only to deepen instinctively as if fueled by the desperate need to reconnect and erase the distance that had come between you. Moaning into each other's mouths as your tongues met, Eddie's hands tangling in your hair.
When you finally pulled apart, breathless, and trembling you rested your forehead against his. His hands gently cupped your face again.
"I love you, Eddie Munson," you whispered.
A soft smile tugged at Eddie's lips, his thumbs brushing away the tears that stained your cheeks. "I love you so fucking much, baby," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
Hi! I loved your series “The Longest Campaign”, I was wondering if there was any updates? No rush at all, I just love your fics sm!!
Yes! I’m hoping to have another chapter of “The Longest Campaign” out by this weekend. There will be a little time jump, and we’re finally going to dab our toes in the good stuff.
I also have a Steve one-shot for any of you Harrington fans in the pipeline.
Do you have a tag list for the fic everything after? I’m so obsessed with these two and their dynamic and how it’s been probably almost 35 years and they’ve raised this baby together while keeping it platonic. I just imagine of lizards’s birthdays and proms and when she got her first period.
Yes, I have a tag list, and I’ll add you! I’m down to tag anyone in anything.
I’m kinda obsessed with them too, and I have to keep cutting things because I am constantly going off on tangents related to raising Lizard. There will be more of that in Part 2, and I’m considering writing some one-shots set in the universe that revolve around those moments if anyone is interested.
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Pairings: Single Dad!Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader
Summary: Years of loving Eddie is becoming harder to ignore as you and your friends celebrate his daughter's graduation
Warnings: 18+ MDNI No Upside Down AU, AFAB reader, mentions of teenage pregnancy, very brief mention of abortion (doesn’t happen), absent parent, language, mention of drug use, alcohol use, friends to lovers, yearning, angst, married Steve, reader has a nickname, dual POV, nipple play?, dry humping, fingering, handjob, cum play if you squint, semi-public, Byler mention, Lumax mention, Ronance mention, Henderhop mention, I think that's it
Word Count: 16,810
A/N: I suck at summaries. I'm also obsessed with Older Eddie Munson. We should've gotten him IRL.
Lizzie Munson just might be the one true love of your life.
Not in a romantic sense, no, but still in that deep down, in your bones, you can’t shake it, you will protect her from anything you can kind of way. The pride that swells within you as you look up at her on the stage, wearing her orange cap and gown, brings tears to your eyes.
She might not be yours biologically, but she’s yours in every way that counts. You were there when Eddie brought her home from the hospital, when she took her first steps, on her first day of kindergarten, when she got her driver’s license, and now as she graduates high school. And it only took her one try.
You’re sitting in the front row next to Eddie and Uncle Wayne, your poster that reads, “Congrats Lizard!” waving in your hands. Cameras are flashing, everyone is waving themselves with programs, and people are trying to pay attention to Principal Higgins, but it's hot as balls outside.
It can't dampen your mood, though. Your girl is about to take the podium and give her valedictorian speech.
Beside you, Eddie bounces his knee so hard it knocks against yours. You grab his hand and give it a squeeze.
“Calm down, Munson, you’re making the whole row shake,” you whisper.
“I can’t help it, Sweets,” he mutters, eyes fixed on the stage, “My kid’s about to give a speech in front of like, a thousand people.”
You look around exaggeratedly, “There are maybe two hundred people here.”
“Feels like a thousand.”
You grin softly and smooth an invisible wrinkle from the sleeve of his black button-down. He’d complained about wearing it the entire drive over, tugging at the collar like it was strangling him. He looked so handsome as you adjusted his tie before the two of you left your house, but now he looks terrified in it. Not for himself. For her. The poor man. And he’s not the only one you have to worry about.
On the other side of Eddie, Uncle Wayne sits stiff-backed in a suit jacket he only ever wears to funerals and weddings. He’s sweating profusely in the May heat. His rough hands are folded tightly in his lap, eyes glassy already. The second the perfunctory announcements started, he’d gone suspiciously quiet.
It’s a good thing you’re well trained in emotionally regulating the Munson men because you have a feeling you’re about to have to pat a couple of backs and wipe away a few tears.
Eddie goes stiff when Higgins steps back from the podium with a smile.
“And now, Hawkins High School Class of 2005’s valedictorian, Elizabeth Munson.”
The applause is thunderous. You scream as loud as you can and wave your sign wildly. Eddie sucks in a sharp breath beside you. Wayne is stiff as a board.
Lizzie crosses the stage in gold cords with black combat boots peeking out beneath her gown. Eddie had already cried when she walked downstairs earlier that morning dressed for graduation. Now, he’s crying because of the boots.
“Kid inherited my fashion sense,” he says proudly through tears.
You hand him a tissue and give his knee a squeeze.
Lizzie reaches the podium and adjusts the microphone. For one horrible second, she looks nervous. Then, her eyes find the three of you.
You. Uncle Wayne. Her dad. And she smiles.
“Okay,” she says, voice echoing through the crowd and Eddie sniffles, “So statistically speaking, most valedictorian speeches are supposed to include inspirational quotes, metaphors about journeys, and at least one overused reference to the spreading of wings.”
A ripple of laughter moves through the crowd.
“I didn’t really do any of that.”
Eddie huffs quietly beside you, “That’s my girl.”
“So instead,” Lizzie continues, “I figured I’d talk about the people who got me here.”
You can see her fingers tighten slightly around the edges of the podium.
“When people hear that I was raised by a single dad in a trailer park on the edge of Hawkins, they usually make assumptions about my life.”
The gym quiets, Eddie grabs your hand and interlaces your fingers.
“They think I grew up with less,” she says and makes sure her gaze roams over the entire crowd.
You see Eddie’s shoulders tense beside you.
“But I didn’t.”
Lizzie looks toward Eddie who is gripping you tightly.
“I grew up with a dad who worked himself to the bone every single day and still came home to help me study for spelling tests.”
Eddie ducks his head immediately, the tips of his ears going red.
“Who had someone teach him how to braid hair.”
There are some chuckles. You think you can hear Dustin’s laugh in particular.
“Who sat through every choir concert, every science fair, every nightmare, every heartbreak.”
Your chest aches and Eddie leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel the tears soak through the sleeve of your shirt.
“And when he didn’t know how to fix something,” her voice softens and your vision goes misty, “he made sure I never had to face it alone.”
Eddie presses his fist against his mouth as if he can staunch his emotions.
Lizzie glances toward Wayne next.
“My Uncle Wayne taught me that love doesn’t have to be loud to be life-changing.”
Wayne’s eyes squeeze shut. You reach across Eddie’s shoulders to give Wayne a pat.
“He taught me how to fish. He taught me how to drive, after I almost gave my dad a heart attack. He threatened a boy once for making me cry sophomore year.”
“That little asshole deserved it,” Wayne mutters under his breath, making you choke back a laugh. Wayne’s right, the little asshole deserved it.
“And then there’s…” Lizzie pauses, looking directly at you now.
The entire room seems to disappear. She says your name with an aching fondness.
“There’s the person who taught me what kindness looks like.”
Your breath catches and this time Eddie squeezes your hand.
“She’s been there for every important thing I can remember. School pickups, birthday cakes, movie nights, panic attacks before exams, taking me prom dress shopping for the third time because I kept changing my mind.”
Eddie sneaks a peek at you quietly, a look akin to reverence on his face.
“When people asked if I missed having a mom growing up,” Lizzie smiles shakily and shrugs her shoulders, “the truth is, I never really felt like I did.”
Your eyes burn instantly.
Lizzie’s biological mother Rachel was never around. She and Eddie were never even really in a relationship. They were only casual hookups until one night the condom broke. You can still remember how frantic Eddie was when he called you the night it happened. You tried to reassure him that nothing was going to come of it and everything would be fine. But you were wrong.
A few weeks later, Rachel called, told Eddie that she was pregnant, and that her parents were making her keep it. Rachel’s parents were uber religious and there would be no talk of abortion. Adoption was their preferred route.
In the beginning, Eddie agreed. He didn’t think that as the resident freak of Hawkins, Indiana, who still had yet to graduate high school, he was fit to raise a child. You remembered tearful conversations where you told him that you would support him no matter what he chose. In the end, after much back and forth with Rachel’s parents and with the backing of you and Wayne, he chose Lizzie. Rachel signed over her rights and she and her parents moved far from Hawkins, never to be seen again.
You were the only constant female influence in her life. Eddie’s eternal best friend. The girl who grew up in the trailer next door. Sure, Claudia, Karen, and Joyce were around, and they helped out wherever they could. There were also a few girlfriends who thought they had the wherewithal to handle a single father until they couldn’t.
But you were the one in the trenches with him.
When he made the final decision that he was going to keep Lizzie, the two of you made a plan. He had to graduate, get a better job (AKA stop dealing), and he needed his own place.
The last one was a no-brainer. You’d graduated the year before, and you lived in an apartment complex just down the way from Forest Hills. Your current lease was up, and you told him you had no problem moving into a two bedroom with him. The plus side was that the two of you would be close to Wayne. After that, the other two things on the list eventually fell into place.
In the beginning, neither of you knew what you were getting yourselves into. You didn’t know jack shit about babies, and neither did Eddie. Together, the two of you learned how to make bottles, change diapers, burp, administer children’s Tylenol, go to work on 3 hours of sleep, and how to make a rinky dink apartment a home for an infant.
You and Eddie lived together until Lizzie was three, when he finally saved up enough money for a down payment on a house. And even after you were no longer living together, you were still on Lizzie’s school pick up list, in her emergency contacts, and you went to her field trips and parent-teacher conferences when Eddie couldn’t.
Thinking back on those rough first years and how Lizzie has become such a huge part of your life, tears well up along your waterline. On stage, Lizzie’s own eyes glisten, but she keeps going.
“I got really lucky. I was raised by three people who chose me every single day.”
It’s completely silent now except for the soft fan of graduation programs and the occasional cough.
“And I think that’s what I want everyone graduating today to remember.”
She steadies herself with a breath. Next to you, Eddie copies her.
“Family isn’t always the thing you’re born into. Sometimes it’s the people who stay. The people who show up. The people who choose you every day. The people who love you so loudly that eventually you learn how to love yourself the same way too.”
Beside you, Eddie is openly crying, shoulders shaking slightly as he laughs under his breath in embarrassment. He wipes clumsily at his tears.
“Oh, this kiddo’s trying to kill me,” he whispers hoarsely.
Lizzie smiles one last time out at the crowd.
“So yeah, maybe I don’t have a quote about wings.”
A small grin spreads across her face. It’s so much like her father’s.
“But thanks to my family, I never really needed them to fly.”
The gym erupts. Everyone is on their feet instantly, applause crashing across the football field.
Wayne stands slowly, wiping aggressively at his eyes. Eddie doesn’t even try to wipe at his tears anymore. He’s crying and laughing helplessly as he claps.
“That’s my daughter,” he says, voice cracking completely, “Holy shit.”
You let go of his hand to wrap him in a hug, “You did good, Daddio.”
As the audience begins to settle, Lizzie gives one last shy smile and makes her way back to her seat as Vice Principal Clarke moves to the podium.
“Thank you so much for those touching words, Miss Munson,” he pauses like he can’t quite reconcile the fact that a Munson just gave a valedictorian speech, “Now, we will call each student up to receive their diplomas.”
Higgins goes to stand next to the table that holds the rolled certificates, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, and you watch as student after student crosses the stage and takes their diploma. Fortunately, Hawkins was a small school, so you didn’t have to wait long for Lizzie’s turn to come.
She stands and her head turns to you sharply, she wants you to notice. You lock eyes and she gives you a half smirk and a wink. And you know. You know exactly what she’s going to do.
You shake your head at her, but you know she won’t be deterred.
“Oh no,” you whisper under your breath, but Eddie still hears you.
“What?”
“She gave me the wink.”
Lizzie saw the video of her father’s graduation at Eddie’s last birthday party when you’d gotten nostalgic and started pulling out every old picture and video you had. She knew all about her father’s three tries at graduating, she knew that he used to be the local freak, but she didn’t think he’d actually done what everyone chuckled about when they mentioned that faraway May day in 1986. Of course, after she was shown that clip of Eddie running up to Higgins, grabbing his diploma, and flipping him the bird, you had to show her the one of her Uncle Dustin doing the same thing in 1989. After she saw them, she told you she was going to do it, too.
If you were honest, you didn’t really believe her. Like her dad, Lizzie had her own wild streak, but it was mostly relegated to dying her hair different colors with Kool Aid and having her best friend Cassie Eatherly pierce her nose with a needle and an ice cube. Looks like Lizzie is proving you wrong.
Eddie turns to you fully, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Eddie, your child is on a stage with Principal Higgins on her graduation day. What do you think I mean?”
“She wouldn’t. Not my little Lizard.”
“Like I said, she’s your child.”
“Oh shit,” he mutters and Uncle Wayne turns to him sharply.
“Eddie, please. This is a serious occasion.”
“Then I seriously think you’re gonna want to close your eyes for this one, Wayne.”
It takes a second for the words to hit, but when they do, Uncle Wayne shakes his head. He’d long ago given up on the notion that nothing could surprise him after basically raising Eddie by himself. Now, he just tried to take everything in stride.
“She wouldn’t.”
Right on cue, you hear the crowd try and fail to contain themselves as the curly-haired girl stops dead in front of Higgins, snatches the rolled up paper from his hands, flips him the most elegant middle finger you’ve ever seen, and sprints off stage into the crowd of her classmates.
Eddie hangs his head, not because he’s embarrassed, but because he doesn’t want Wayne to see how proud he is. Wayne almost had a coronary when Eddie did it at his own graduation. Today, Wayne just shakes his head fondly.
You start laughing hysterically, “You, Dustin, and now Lizzie. They’re never gonna let us come to another one of these.”
“You’ve got to stop encouraging them, Sweets,” Wayne says with another shake of his head.
“Oh no, sir. All I did was show her a video. There was no encouragement needed. This was all Lizzie.”
With a barely contained smile, Vice Principal Clarke manages to get through the rest of the names, while Higgins stands on the stage with a mottled face, looking like a bull staring at a red flag. You’d think that since it’s happened to him three times now, he’d be used to being flipped off. He should probably start planning retirement..
After the ceremony ends, everything feels a little unreal. You’re still on the emotional high of Lizzie’s accomplishment. Even though you’ve always had every confidence in her, you still can’t quite believe it. She did it. Your girl did it. And she was valedictorian.
The bleachers empty in noisy waves. There are families shouting congratulations, balloons flying off into the air, teachers trying to organize photos as no one follows directions. In the background, “Eye of the Tiger” crackles through terrible speakers. You, Eddie, and Wayne go down to the grass to wait for your girl.
Lizzie disappeared almost immediately with her best friend Cassie into a swarm of classmates, and now the three of you are just waiting somewhat impatiently for her to appear. You want to say a proper goodbye before you go back home to put the finishing touches on her graduation party.
Eddie keeps staring into the crowd after her like he can’t quite process that the tiny little girl who used to fall asleep on his chest during late-night horror movies is suddenly a graduate. It’s a little bit adorable.
You touch his arm gently, “You okay?”
“No,” he says immediately, eyes still shiny, “I’m having a full existential crisis.”
“That seems a bit dramatic, even for you, Eds.”
“My daughter just gave the most emotionally devastating speech of all time in front of the entire town.”
You laugh softly and loop your arm through his, pulling him closer.
Then Eddie turns to you, and something shifts. Not dramatically, and not all at once. There’s just a stillness.
Because Lizzie’s words are still hanging there between you.
When people asked if I missed having a mom growing up…the truth is, I never really felt like I did. You hadn’t expected her to say that. Those words speak so much to the relationship you have with the two youngest Munsons.
You and Eddie have been best friends almost your entire life. You lived next door to each other growing up, and you’d been inseparable ever since Lizzie’s namesake, Eddie’s mother, forced him to say hi to the girl playing by herself on the rusty playground in the middle of the trailer park. You’d always only been just friends, even if you’d always known that you wanted more. That you wanted him to be more than just your best friend.
But you have also been doing the growing-up-Lizzie thing together for eighteen years. School lunches and scraped knees and parent-teacher conferences where teachers, who’d even taught the pair of you in high school, always looked at both of you like they were trying to figure out what was really going on in your relationship. It was one of the reasons you never tried for more. There was a kid, one you loved so, so much. You weren’t going to risk her stability or your relationship with her father for something that might only be one-sided.
You nod, “She did.”
Wayne wanders off to find Claudia, Dustin, and Jane, leaving you and Eddie standing alone even in the middle of the crowded field.
Eddie rubs the back of his neck.
“She really meant that, you know.”
You look down, “I know.”
You don’t really know why you’re suddenly so shy with your best friend.
“No, I mean it,” his voice softens, “You basically raised her with me.”
Emotion catches unexpectedly in your throat. You joke to cover it., “Well somebody had to make sure she didn’t end up eating gas station food every night.”
“Airing out my dirty laundry after all these years?” Eddie says with a laugh, but his smile fades after a second, “She loves you a lot.”
Your chest tightens because you love her, too. And her father. More than you ever let yourself say out loud.
Before you can respond, there’s suddenly a blur of orange graduation gown flying toward you. Lizzie crashes into you first. You barely catch her and your sign before she wraps both arms around your neck.
“You cried,” she accuses immediately.
“You cried!” you say into her hair as you draw her in closer, “I’m so proud of you, kiddo,”
“Even after that stunt I just pulled?”
You pull back to look into her eyes that are so much like her dad’s and laugh loud enough that some of the others gathered around turn to look at the two of you, “Especially after that. You’re just carrying on a sacred family tradition.”
“Give me back my child,” Eddie grumbles as he disentangles the two of you so he can pull Lizzie into a hug.
“Dad, I can’t breathe,” Lizzie giggles as Eddie picks her up and swings her around, their twin heads of dark curly hair flying carelessly.
He puts her down, but takes her by the shoulders, “I am so proud of you, Elizabeth Munson.”
She tilts her head down and she gets shy under her father’s praise, “Dad…”
“No, you’ve gotta listen. That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Had all of us crying like little babies.”
“I know,” she says, “I could see you all blubbering. You almost cracked my unwavering composure.”
Eddie wraps an arm around your shoulders to tuck you in next to him and lean a cheek against the top of your head, “Sweets, was the only one blubbering.”
She looks between the two of you with an expression that instantly makes you suspicious, “Speaking of my speech…”
With that smirk on her face, it’s uncanny how sometimes she looks exactly like Eddie.
Eddie chokes and you nearly drop your sign. You both unconsciously take a step away from each other.
“Excuse me?” you barely manage to eke out.
“I’m serious,” she says, “Like, literally everyone.”
“Oh my god,” Eddie mutters, covering his face, which is becoming an odd shade of red.
“I think some of my classmates found out for the first time today that you’re not actually my mother,” she looks at you pointedly, “At parent-teacher conferences and field trips and everything, they always assumed – ”
“We know,” you and Eddie say at the exact same time.
Lizzie beams, looking between the two of you.
“That was very ‘couple' of you.”
Eddie points at her threateningly, “Do not start.”
But she’s already backing away laughing, spotting Cassie across the field.
“I’m just saying!” she calls, “You’re fooling absolutely nobody!”
Then she disappears back into the crowd.
“Bye, I guess,” you say after her sarcastically once she’s gone.
Then, there’s silence. Long, dangerous silence.
Eddie stares at the grass. You stare at the stage.
Somewhere in the distance, Wayne is loudly arguing with another parent about the correct way to smoke brisket.
Finally Eddie laughs quietly under his breath, “You know the worst part?”
You glance at him carefully, “What?”
He looks at you then. Really looks at you. His gaze is soft, terrified, honest.
“For a second up there…” he swallows, “when she was giving that speech…”
Your heart starts pounding.
“I kinda wished we were.”
The world narrows instantly.
All the noise around you fades into dull static.
Eddie looks horrified with himself the second the words leave his mouth, like he wants to shove them back in. And you can’t breathe because the truth is, you wished it too. You have for a very long time.
And now that Lizzie has graduated high school, you think you’ve finally gathered the courage to tell him. It’s probably just the emotional gravity of the day pulling you into its orbit, but you want to shout it from the rooftops and let everyone know that you’re in love with Eddie Munson. It’s on the tip of your tongue, and he’s looking at you like he knows what you’re gearing up to say and he wants you to say it as badly as he wants to hear it.
“Eddie,” you begin.
You’re going to tell him and not chicken out this time. Your lips are forming the words when…
“Eddie! Sweets! We’ve been looking all over for you!”
Dustin Henderson emerges from the dwindling crowd hand in hand with his wife Jane, walking toward you and Eddie like he’s on a mission.
“I think you have the coolest kid ever,” Dustin says as he drops Jane’s hand and pulls Eddie into a hug, completely oblivious to the situation he just walked into. Eddie gives him a stiff pat on the back, but doesn’t break eye contact with you.
Jane, however, is not oblivious. She clocks that the air is different as soon as she sees the two of you looking at each other. Bless her, she tries to intervene.
“Dustin, we should go. We need to pick up some things before the party,” she says as she takes his hand again and tries to gently lead him away.
“No we don’t. We already have Lizzie’s card and gift. All we have to do is change.”
“Dustin…”
“Eddie! Sweets!”
You turn and see Steve Harrington and his wife Emma coming up behind Dustin with the two Buckley-Wheelers trailing behind.
Whatever courage you might’ve found is now gone. You are not doing this with an audience. Another one bites the dust. You probably shouldn’t confess your love for your best friend right after his daughter’s graduation anyway. Seems like the least great idea you’ve ever had when you think about it. But at least now you have your friends around you as buffers to keep the conversation from getting too deep or too stilted.
Steve goes to join Dustin, Jane, and Eddie as the girls move to you.
“Our girl did so well!” Robin says as she holds out her arms.
Robin, Nancy, and Emma gather around and pull you into a hug that you return gratefully. Eddie is your best friend, but those three women, plus Jane and Max, are your tribe. In them, you had a wealth of knowledge to draw from when it came to almost any situation. They’d been invaluable over the years in helping you with anything life could throw at you, be it a situation with Lizzie, a stupid fight with Eddie, your pitiful love life.
And speak of the devil. It seems everyone in Hawkins wants to join your little post-graduation huddle.
You hear that specific voice call your name and you turn to see Mark Eatherly, Cassie’s dad, and the man who just so happens to be your former fiancé. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie frown. You know he hates Mark. He has from the start, although you’ve never been able to get a good reason, other than “I just don’t like him” out of him.
With an instinct bred from being friends with Eddie for years, Steve and Dustin shore up beside him. It’s doubtful that Eddie is going to make a scene at his daughter’s graduation, especially with his daughter’s best friend’s dad, but emotions have been running high, and even almost two years post breakup, Eddie was still pretty pissed with how everything between you and Mark ended.
You’d met Mark at an eighth grade field trip to the zoo that you’d gone on in Eddie’s stead. Eddie was busy at the mechanic shop, and he’d just taken over ownership, so there was no way he could get away. Since Lizzie and Cassie were best friends, you spent the whole day with Mark being dragged around by two little teen dictators from exhibit to exhibit. During your conversation, you learned that he was two years divorced from Cassie’s mother, and when he learned you were neither Eddie’s wife nor Lizzie’s mother, he asked you on a date.
One date became two, which became ten, and before you even really knew what was going on, Mark proposed. In total, you were together almost two years before Mark broke it off.
It was partly because of your inability to set a wedding date, and partly because he wasn’t super fond of how close you were with your best friend. He was always going on and on about how Eddie was undermining his place in your life. Mark wasn’t exactly wrong, but you’d told him several times that you were never giving up your relationship with Eddie.
When he’d started making comments about you not needing to be so involved in Lizzie’s life because you weren’t her actual mother, and how you didn’t need to be a buffer against the real world for Eddie – that was the beginning of the end. There were a few more months of hurtful words neither of you could take back, and then he gave you an ultimatum and you gave him your ring.
You never did and never were going to love him like you love Eddie, and it wasn’t fair to either of you. It took you a while to come to terms with the simple fact that you never should’ve said yes to Mark in the first place. Despite the demise of your relationship, Lizzie and Cassie remained best friends.
Your girls line up beside you like tiny bodyguards, ready to protect you should Mark go off script. They were also a line of second defense against Eddie should he be inclined to step in.
Mark holds his hands up as if in surrender, your friends looking like a firing squad, “I come in peace.”
“Eatherly,” Eddie mumbles from his group.
“Munson,” Mark returns, then looks only at you, “I just came over to say hi and that Lizzie did an incredible job. I know you must be extremely proud of her.”
“We are,” Eddie says for the both of you.
Mark nods, and you appreciate that at least he’s not egging Eddie on.
“I guess I’ll see you later when I drop Cassie off at the party?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”
Mark nods at everyone and turns to walk away. Thankfully, your group is smart enough to wait until he’s out of earshot to begin shit talking.
Eddie gives you a look asking if you’re okay, to which you reply with a nod. Then, not missing a beat, your two clusters turn back to each other to dissect the exchange.
“Please don’t tell me that man is going to try and get you back,” are the first words out of Robin’s mouth.
“What about that five second interaction gave you the indication that he wants me back?”
“Are you serious?” her voice drops down to as much of a whisper as it can, “He never for one minute thought you were going to give him his ring back. He was all swinging dick when he told you that you had to take a step back from Eddie, and I guess he thought you were gagging for it. He took a pretty big hit to the ego when you didn’t even hesitate to rescind your yes.”
“That’s because I never should’ve given it to him to begin with.”
“I never liked him,” Emma states as the four of you shore up your group into a small circle.
“Never liked who?” Jane appears suddenly at your right, weasling her way in once she managed to get away from the boys.
“Mark,” Emma tells her.
Jane sticks out her tongue, “He is a stupid man.”
“I agree with you on that, Henderson,” Robin begins, “And as I was saying, I hope he’s not under the delusion that you’re going to take him back.”
“That’s never going to happen. I don’t take kindly to ultimatums, nor am I ever going to not have the Munsons in my life.”
“It’d be even cooler if you were a Munson, too,” Nancy says under her breath, but everyone hears her and snickers.
“What are we giggling about over here?” comes a question to your left, and you all startle a bit.
The girls part a little to make room for Eddie.
“Girl stuff. Periods and all that,” Emma says with a perfectly innocent grin.
“Sure,” Eddie tells her with a smile then looks to you, “I’m gonna head out.” He pulls you into a hug and presses a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be over at five to help finish setting up. We’ll talk then, yeah?”
Nancy throws a smirk your way as if to say “see what I mean?”
You decide you’re not going to analyze his words until you’re in the safety of your car.
“I’ll see you then.”
“Ladies,” Eddie bows with a flourish and goes to find Wayne.
“We need to get going too, babe,” Steve says to Emma as he and Dustin saunter up to the group, “I’ve got to give the kids the big bad dad speech about not burning the house down while we’re out tonight.”
Steve never got the six little nuggets he’d talked about when you were all younger, but he and Emma had three, and that was plenty for them. The couple were just getting to the point where they were letting their oldest, Lucy, babysit for extra money when they were going out or having a date night.
“Nance and I should head out as well, we’ve got to stop and pick up the cake at the bakery,” Robin tells them.
“Have you talked to Mike and Will?” you turn to Nancy and ask.
“Yes,” Nancy nods as the group starts walking toward the parking lot, “I saw them before they left. My mom had been begging them to stop and see her while they’re in town, so they had to bail right after Lizzie’s speech, but they’ll be at her party tonight. Jonathan, too. He rode with the guys, so he had to leave with them. He wanted me to tell you he wouldn’t forget his camera.”
Of the couple, Will was your favorite, not that you didn’t like Mike, but he was a little rough around the edges, and not in the Eddie-shaped way that you like. Will was the sun to Mike’s thunder. Will used to draw you detailed drawings of your bard back in the Hellfire days. You still had all of them in a scrapbook.
When you first met Mike, he wasn’t a fan, mainly because he didn’t understand your relationship with Eddie. He didn’t comprehend that while you harbored a crush for the teenage rebel boy that he spotted from a mile away, you also genuinely liked Dungeons and Dragons, and you weren’t just joining them after school to make Eddie like you. Eddie already liked you. The poor metalhead had been trapped in your orbit, and you his, since the day you met. Over the years, you and Mike bonded over your shared love of sarcasm, cleverly worded takedowns, and Will Byers.
Hardly any of you ever saw Jonathan anymore, other than Will, Mike, Jane, and Dustin. He was living in New York having the time of his life making movies and being thoroughly happy to leave Hawkins in his rearview. You, Eddie, and Lizzie had gone to see him a couple of times on vacation, but he loved to play the part of fun, somewhat mysterious uncle you only see on holidays.
When the group reaches the parking lot, you all take your turns saying your goodbyes. Even though you’re going to see these people again in only a couple of hours, it’s so rare now that you all get to see each other together, in the same space.
Lucas and Max hadn’t even been able to attend the graduation because Max was seven months pregnant and while she loved Lizzie almost as much as you did, there was no way she was sitting in the blaring sun during the mid-May heatwave Hawkins was currently experiencing. She’d called you that morning in tears because of the hormones, apologizing profusely. Of course you’d told her not to worry about it. Lizzie knew that the Sinclairs loved her, and there would be plenty of time for them to tell her that at the party.
The last hugs and handshakes are traded off and you get in your vehicles to venture toward your next destinations. You should be using the drive time to make an attack plan for setting everything up, but you don’t. Instead, your thoughts are tangled up in Eddie like they almost always are.
We’ll talk then, yeah?
Something almost happened in that moment right after Lizzie left. You almost had both legs in your big girl panties. You almost told him. And he seemed to be waiting for it. But yet again, something stopped you. You didn’t want to claim that it was fate or anything like that, but you were going to have to get your fucking self together.
There were going to be roughly ninety uninterrupted minutes where you would have Eddie alone at your house where the two of you would be setting up for the party. You needed to get that other leg in those panties and pull them up.
Because the two of you were supposed to talk.
You get home, showered, and changed in record time. You have the bigger backyard, so you told Eddie you’d have Lizzie’s graduation party at your house. And even with other things on your mind, everything has to be perfect.
So unfortunately, you’ve whipped yourself into a frenzy. Eddie dropped the ‘I kinda wished we were’ line on you and there you were poised to bare your heart on a football field where the two of you used to sneak off to get high under the bleachers. Now, you’re waiting for him to show up so you could decorate your backyard for his kid’s graduation party. And quite possibly tell him you love him.
You’re staring at the clock on your microwave as it inches toward five o’clock. At 5:01 you hear your front door open and the tell tale sound of boots on the wooden floor of your living room. Your chest seizes for a second, because it’s showtime, then you hear the sound of a second pair of boots.
“Honey, we’re home!” Eddie exclaims as he and Lizzie come through the entryway from the living room into the kitchen.
The dual feelings of both relief and disappointment flood you simultaneously. The thought crosses your mind that maybe Eddie brought Lizzie on purpose to be a buffer Had you read his looks wrong? Did he have a chance to think about what he said and realize that he didn’t mean it?
“When I got home, this weird little girl was there, and she started following me around saying she knew you. She insisted she come help set up,” Eddie says when he sees your face and he looks at you pointedly, “I told her she didn’t need to set up her own party, but she refused to see reason.”
You let out an internal sigh of relief knowing at least that Eddie wasn’t trying to renege on the talk. His daughter is just as bullheaded as he is, and if she decided she was coming over, there really was no stopping her.
Wrapping an arm around Lizzie’s shoulders, you pull her to you, “Well, weird little girl, I guess I’m putting you to work. You can help your dad hang lights while I start on the food.”
Everyone quickly gets to work, Eddie throwing you a shoulder shrug as he grabs the lights you’ve left on the kitchen table. Everyone and their brother seem to be intent on keeping you from talking to this man today.
Not that it matters anyway, because Wayne shows up only fifteen minutes later and you set up a station for him to inflate balloons. Then, surprise of all surprises, Jonathan shows up a half hour early to get his camera ready.
“Jonathan Byers, you’re an angel,” you tell him and get a shy smile in return, “Who would’ve thought eighteen years ago, that I’d have a famous movie director as a friend and I’d be able to twist his arm into filming a graduation party?”
“Only semi-famous, Sweets, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. As the only two members of the Class of ‘84 and ‘85 Photography Club, I feel we are obligated to stick together.”
You’re no photographer, but you’d joined the Photography Club your junior year mainly because you thought it would look good on your college transcripts. You never would’ve imagined that it would spawn a lifelong friendship with the shy and solemn older brother of Will Byers. You’d spent countless nights sharing a joint with Jonathan while both commiserating about the two people (Nancy and Eddie) that you longed for with all your maudlin teenage hearts.
Robin and Nancy always voiced their suspicions that your feelings for Eddie ran deeper than just friendship, but Jonathan was the only person who knew.
Of course, Jonathan got over Nancy rather quickly after he moved to New York for film school. You, on the other hand, still carried a torch as bright as ever for your dear metalhead.
“I’m going to go around and get some establishing shots. Let me know if there’s anything in particular you want me to get.”
“Will do.”
The rest of the set up goes smoothly, and soon people are filtering in. Dustin and Jane are first, Dustin joining Eddie over where he’s trying to light the grill, leaving you and Jane idly chatting, waiting for the others.
Some neighbors and co-workers of both you and Eddie join, most of them only stopping by to drop off a gift or card. Claudia comes briefly to drop off a gift. Robin and Nancy set up the cake when they arrive, then join you and Jane. Max waddles in, followed closely by Lucas, Steve, and Emma. Everyone coos over Max while she loudly exclaims that if anyone touches her belly they’re going to die. Mike and Will are accompanied by Karen. They’re followed in by Joyce and Hopper. Eddie and Dustin join the group after they’ve filled a picnic table with nothing but meat.
Karen, Joyce, and Hopper reminisce over all of the graduations they’ve been to. Mike and Will share news about California. Robin and Nancy tell you that you simply have to see them in Massachusetts. Emma and Max talk about all things baby. Steve finally succeeds in getting Eddie to play cornhole with him against Dustin and Jane.
All the while, your girl is in the center of all of it, flitting between groups of people and conversations. Her personality shines brightest when she’s around her people. Jonathan takes the opportunity to get some good footage of Lizzie in her natural habitat and of the guests telling stories about Lizzie growing up.
You’re at the dessert table, grabbing one of the cupcakes Karen brought, watching Lizzie make fun of her dad and Steve’s horrible cornhole technique when you hear her squeal and turn to see Cassie and Mark coming around the side of the house. The girls embrace and jump up and down like they didn’t just see each other a few hours ago.
“Sorry we’re late,” Mark begins once he’s made his way to you and he grabs a cupcake, “Cassie’s mom and I took her out for dinner and it ran a little long,”
“How the girls managed to survive is beyond me,” you tell him with a laugh as Lizzie drags Cassie over to watch the now heated cornhole match.
This is the point where you hope Mark will simply say goodbye, and make his merry way home, but as he fidgets with the wrapper, your hopes are dashed.
“What have you been up to lately?”
Unfortunately, your squad is occupied and there’s no one to rescue you just yet.
“Same old, same old. The bookstore keeps me pretty busy. I’m probably going to have to hire two people to take over for Lizzie when she finally moves away for college.”
“I saw a new car in the driveway,” he says as he gestures toward the front of your house with his head, “I guess you finally had to replace the Camry?”
You don’t really like that Mark wants to bring up old relationship talk with you. He’d been trying to get you to buy a new car since you’d started dating. But you didn’t need a new freaking car, Eddie kept your old Camry running just fine. The only reason you have a new car is because you gave your old one to Lizzie as a graduation present.
“The Camry is still kicking,” you inform him, “It’s actually Lizzie’s now.”
“Oh.”
The conversation between the two of you is mostly Mark trying to engage you in any way he can think of, but every laugh is forced and all you want to do is scurry away to anywhere else. You keep trying to catch the eyes of any of your friends, but everyone is occupied.
All you can think is that it’s going to be a long night.
You’ve been talking to Mark for almost thirty minutes, Eddie knows because he clocked it as soon as Mark walked into your backyard. He can’t even concentrate on the stupid cornhole game because all he really wants to do is go over there and bodily move Mark away from you. Lizzie dragged Cassie off to god knows where saying that she couldn’t watch her dad lose so pathetically anymore.
He thought he’d seen the last of the man when you gave him back your ring, but Mark was like fucking herpes, always popping up when you least expected.
Eddie is concentrating so hard on trying to read your lips, he doesn’t even hear Steve coming and he jumps when Steve slaps him on the back.
“I always thought you and Sweets would end up together,” Steve says as he follows Eddie’s line of sight and looks over at where Mark is still standing next to you.
“What makes you say that?” Eddie asks as if he’s fooling anyone.
“I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“What way, praytell, do I look at her?”
“Like she hung the fucking moon. It’s the same way I look at Emma.”
Eddie wants to have a snappy comeback, but he doesn't. Steve’s right. He does look at you like you hung the fucking moon, because to him, you did. You are his best friend, his partner in crime, you helped him raise his goddamn daughter. Everything good in his life exists because of you. Other than the birthing part, even Lizzie.
You were the one who told him he could do it, be a real father, when he told you that he didn’t want to give his baby up for adoption. You were honest with him. You didn’t mince words, you told him it was going to be hard as hell, but that if he stuck with it, it would all be worth it. And it fucking was.
There were no two people he loved in this world more than you and his daughter. But he definitely loved you differently than he loved Lizzie.
Eddie had been in love with you most of his goddamn life.
When the two of you were seven, you got “married” out near the creek that runs behind the trailer park – he had streaks of mud across his face and holes in the knees of his jeans, you had a crown of daisies atop your head. You’d proposed to him with a Ring Pop and told him you wanted to be his best friend forever. He’d said yes immediately. The two of you promised each other you’d be together for eternity, and then you celebrated by passing the candy back and forth until it disappeared. He didn’t tell you he loved you then.
The two of you shared your first and only kiss playing spin the bottle at Erin Carmichael’s thirteenth birthday party. When the empty soda bottle he spun landed directly on you, he’d been so nervous he thought he was going to puke and you’d blushed so prettily he also thought he was going to die. In front of the entire seventh grade class of Hawkins Middle School, he kissed you square on the lips and while everyone else “oohed” and “ahhed,” you’d stared at him with a look in your eye that was so much older than thirteen. He felt like he’d died and gone to heaven. He didn’t tell you he loved you then.
You were his date to all of his senior proms, and on the third one, when he was once again wearing one of Wayne’s old suits and you were wearing a sparkly dress, dancing under a disco ball to “Heaven” by Bryan Adams, he almost told you he loved you. You had your arms around his shoulders with your head tucked under his chin. You were wearing some fruity-smelling perfume that made him lightheaded in the best way. His mind had been clouded with thoughts of Rachel and the baby and what he was going to do, but in that moment, you were the only thing he could think of. He didn’t tell you he loved you then.
There was that moment just hours ago, right after Lizzie’s graduation, he felt that familiar tension between the two of you. You had that soft look on your face you only ever had with him. He’d been so sure you were going to say something. He could see the emotion swirling in your eyes, although he could’ve been fooling himself and it was only the leftover sentimentality of Lizzie’s speech. He told himself that he was giving you thirty seconds, and if you didn’t say anything, he was going to. It was right there in the back of his throat, ready for any acknowledgment on your part, then Dustin came rushing over and killed the mood. He didn’t tell you he loved you then.
He could never understand why he just couldn’t fucking tell you that he loved you.
Eddie’s reminiscing is cut short when Dustin, again, walks over and pats him on the back, “What are we talking about gentlemen?”
“About how Eddie loves Sweets,” Steve supplies with no preamble.
“Yeah, that’s not news.”
The casual way that Dustin says it gives Eddie pause, “What do you mean?”
“Eddie, a blind man could see that you love her. And she’s crazy about you, too. You both need to get your heads out of your goddamn asses already. I’m frankly a little sick of watching you two pine after each other.”
Eddie scoffs, even as heat crawls up the back of his neck, “Jesus Christ Henderson, subtle as always.”
Steve chuckles.
“I’m serious,” Dustin begins, “you look at her like the lead actor in a rom-com. I might start calling you Matthew McConaughey.”
Steve snorts into his beer, “That’s weirdly specific.”
“Jane’s been on a McConaughey kick,” he says to Steve before he turns back to Eddie, “You know what I mean.” Dustin points between Eddie and where you stand, still talking to fucking Mark, “Look at you right now.”
You’re laughing at something Mark says, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, and still Eddie feels a little queasy. You have your head tipped back and the lights he and Lizzie put up only a couple of hours ago cast you in a soft multi-colored glow. Mark drops his head toward you and says something else to which you lightly shove his shoulder.
Jealousy twists sharp in his stomach. Partly because Mark is touching you. Mostly because Mark almost had you. And it looks like he’s trying all over again.
There was a point where Eddie thought you were really going to do it – leave him and really be with Mark. It was the night Mark proposed. You’d come over after, and you were sitting on Eddie’s couch. Your eyes were shining, you were twisting that god awful ring around your finger. Lizzie was upstairs asleep, and the two of you were alone when you told him.
And Eddie just smiled. He smiled so hard his face hurt. Then he congratulated you with a bitter taste on his tongue. After you left, he got drunk alone in the kitchen and stared at the wall wondering if that heavy feeling in his gut was what missing his chance felt like.
“You’re doing it again,” Steve says with a nudge to Eddie’s arm.
“I’m not staring,” he mutters.
“You’re not,” Dustin corrects, “You’re yearning.”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously man,” Steve says quieter, not teasing like before, “What exactly are you waiting for? Lizzie’s graduated, and she’s going off to college. You have a house, a business, you’re not the freak of Hawkins anymore. You never really were.”
Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Because the truth is a little pathetic. He’s waiting for a sign. Some kind of permission. Some sort of undeniable proof that telling you how he feels won’t ruin everything the two of you have built. That he won’t ruin it.
You are woven into every part of his life. Your threads make up most of the beautiful tapestry that is his world.
And it’s not just about Lizzie.
You know how he likes his coffee. You know where he keeps the extra sheets. You know when his shoulder hurts because he slept wrong because he’s getting fucking old. You know Wayne’s medication schedule because Eddie hates to admit that Wayne’s getting old, too.
If he says something, and it goes bad, if he finally tells you and you look at him with pity instead of love, he’d lose one of the most important people in his life.
His eyes drift to you again. This time you’re not looking at Mark. You’re looking at him. Even from across the yard, he knows that expression instantly. There’s softness, fondness, maybe longing. It hits him square in the chest.
Dustin notices it too, because he groans dramatically, “Oh my god, just kiss her already. Put us all out of our misery.”
Steve laughs so hard he nearly chokes on his drink. Eddie flips Dustin off without looking away from you.
‘You’re a little asshole, you know that?”
“At least I’m married to the woman I’m hopelessly in love with.”
“He’s got you there, Munson,” Steve agrees.
Before Eddie can rattle off another excuse as to why he needs to keep his mouth shut for all eternity, your back screen door slams open.
“Daddio!” Lizzie screeches and comes jogging out of your kitchen with Cassie trailing behind her, but veering off to the dessert table where you’re still standing with Mark.
“Leaving so soon?” Eddie asks his daughter.
“I’m heading out with Cassie. I’m gonna spend the night with her.”
Eddie nods and throws an arm around her shoulders, “I know you’re all grown up now, but could you call me and let me know when you two get home.”
Lizzie gives him an indulgent smile, “Of course. And don’t worry Daddio, we’re not going to do anything stupid. There’s a bonfire out at Lover's Lake, then me and Cassie are going to her mom’s house.”
“Do you have everything? Clothes? Toothbrush? Bail money?”
“Dad…”
“If I call Cassie’s house later tonight, are you going to be able to answer the phone?” Eddie trusts his daughter, she’s a good kid, but he also wants to know that she’s made it safely home.
“If I call Sweets' house later tonight, are you going to be able to answer the phone?” she counters, and both Steve and Dustin snicker.
Eddie narrows his eyes and decides to ignore her comment. He doesn’t have the brain power to verbally spar with his daughter right now, “Ok, just be careful, and call me if you need anything, and I mean anything.”
“You know I will,” she tells him with a wink and then looks over to you, “I’m gonna go say bye to Sweets.”
For the second time that day, Lizzie Munson comes barreling toward you out of nowhere, but you’re especially thankful for it right now. Mark won’t stop talking to you, and not even Cassie trying to say goodbye has been able to distract him.
“Sweets!”
“Lizard!”
She grabs your hand, “Can I steal you for a second?”
“Sure thing,” you say, grateful to have a second alone with Lizzie, away from Mark’s banal conversation.
She pulls you far enough away so the two of you can talk without anyone listening.
“There she is,” you tease softly, fixing the mess of necklaces hanging around her throat. Rings are her father’s thing. Necklaces are hers.
Lizzie smiles, but it seems a little nervous around the edges.
“What’s wrong?” you ask immediately.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to say goodbye before Cassie kidnaps me for the rest of the night.”
“You’ll call me if you need bail, right?”
She snorts, “Do you and my dad share a brain cell?”
“I think one is a generous number.”
Lizzie laughs and goes quiet again.
“What is it, honey?”
For a second, she just looks at you. It’s not casual, it’s not distracted. She really looks. She’s so much like Eddie it almost knocks the breath out of you.
“I need you to know something,” she says softly.
“Okay.”
“You are family to me.”
Emotion climbs up your throat so fast it almost burns.
“Lizard…”
“No, let me finish before I chicken out,” she points at you the way you point at her when you tell her something she really needs to listen to, “I mean it. You’re not like my family. You are my family.”
For probably the hundredth time that day, your eyes begin to sting.
Lizzie swallows hard before continuing, “And I know you worry about changing things with my dad.”
Your stomach drops, “Lizzie…”
“I’m serious,” she says with a gentle voice, “I know you both think you’re hiding it, but you’re really, really not.”
Heat floods your face. You’ve been called out by a teenager. Again.
“Oh my god.”
She grabs both of your hands, “My dad has been in love with you literally my entire life.”
All you can do is stare at her, speechless.
“And you love him, too.”
You open your mouth to deny it, but nothing comes out. What’s the point? Lizzie knows. Everyone probably knows.
Your eyes drift over to where Eddie is standing with Steve and Dustin. His hair is falling into his face from laughing at something. Your heart does that stupid little thing it always does when you catch him like that, so lighthearted and carefree. Lizzie squeezes your hands tighter.
“I know that you had Mark, and he was okay, I guess. But the best thing about him is Cassie. And I’ve never seen him look at you the way my dad looks at you. You don’t have to be scared anymore,” she tells you quietly.
And that nearly undoes you. Because you are scared. Scared of losing him. Scared of ruining the best thing in your life.
“I just…” your voice cracks, “you and your dad mean everything to me.”
Lizzie smiles, and she looks so much like Eddie you could cry.
“Sweets,” she begins gently, “you’ve been in love with each other for years. I knew it as soon as I had cognitive reasoning skills. You two are just the last to formally acknowledge it.”
A watery laugh escapes you. Lizzie steps forward and wraps her arms around you.
“You deserve each other,” she whispers into your hair.
You hold her tight and press a kiss to her forehead, “That sounds ominous.”
She laughs, but it’s edged with tears, “You’re going to make me cry off all of my makeup.”
“Too late for that, kiddo.”
She pulls back, grinning playfully. Then, because she is Eddie Munson’s daughter, she tilts her head toward where her father is still standing with Steve and Dustin and says, “For the record, if you don’t kiss my dad soon, I think Steve and Dustin might actually explode from frustration.”
You burst out laughing, “Noted.”
“Good,” Lizzie says as you release each other, “Alright, I’m leaving before you get all weird and emotional on me again.”
“You started it!”
“Yeah, well someone had to,” she says with a shrug.
Lizzie skips away to grab Cassie and the two of them round the front of the house, off to adventures unknown.
Now, there’s a weight sitting in your gut that you can’t do anything with just yet. All it can do is grow heavier until you can finally get Eddie alone.
You look over to the dessert table where Mark is still standing, but you’re sure as hell not going back over there. Your patience with his particular line of conversation has run too thin. You spot Wayne out of the corner of your eye, throwing away empty plates left lying around and decide to join him.
“Don’t worry about the trash, Uncle Wayne. That’s what I have Eddie for,” you tell him as you slide a hand along his shoulder.
“Just doing my part, darling.”
“You did your part a long time ago. That was raising my best friend.”
He gives you a smile and leans into your grip.
“What would that boy do without you?”
“Live off of Chef Boyardee and forget when his light bill is due,” you tell him with a chuckle.
“Did Lizzie set you straight?” he asks as he ambles toward the back porch door.
Everyone really does fucking know, you think to yourself as the two of you walk into the kitchen where Wayne has left his jacket hanging on one of your chairs.
You nod as he slides into the well-worn piece of clothing, “Yes sir, she did.”
“Then I guess I don’t have to say anything else.”
“No sir.”
Wayne pulls you into a bear hug and when he steps back, he studies you a bit.
“Well, I guess I do have a little bit to say.”
You don’t know what it is about those words that makes you a little nervous.
“Go on.”
“Al Munson was a dumb motherfucker,” Wayne begins, and you would laugh at Wayne’s language if he wasn’t so right and so serious, “He had everything a man could want. He had Elizabeth, then he had Eddie. But he fucked it all up.”
You take a deep breath. You never really met the man, but you know that Wayne hates Eddie’s father with a passion. And by extension, so do you. He was a horrible husband and a horrible father. He didn’t deserve Elizabeth or Eddie.
“Unfortunately, Al had that boy long enough to put a lot of nonsense in his head. A lot of stuff that Al hated about himself that he pushed off on Eddie. Told him he was no good, that he would never amount to anything, that he was trash.”
Wayne takes your hands in his own. They are warm and his palms are calloused from years of work at the plant. They are working man’s hands. Hands that worked hard to give Eddie a home and a family. Wayne is just as much Eddie’s father as you are Lizzie’s mother.
You sometimes think it’s that truth that binds you and Wayne so closely. You both know what it’s like to love a child so fiercely even when you had no hand in their making.
“Eddie is going to try and convince himself that he’s not good enough for you. He’s going to tell himself that you can do better.”
“But I can’t,” you shake your head vigorously.
“I know that, darling, but that sonofabitch that was his father put those thoughts in his head, and it doesn’t matter what Eddie accomplishes, or how good he’s got it going, he always thinks he doesn’t deserve it. He feels like an impostor in his own life.”
Wayne squeezes your hand tightly, not to the point of pain, but enough that you know he’s serious, “Don’t let Al win. No matter what my boy does, no matter what he says. Don’t let that man hurt my boy more than he already has.”
You give him a nod, not sure if you can speak yet.
“I know you can do it, Sweets. I’ve been witness to the love you have for both of those knuckleheads. Just please tell me that you won’t give up.”
You swallow, your throat thick with love for this man who loves Eddie and Lizzie so much, “I won’t give up, Wayne.”
He lets your hands go and pats you affectionately on the cheek, “I know you won’t. Don’t let him give up either.”
You smile and together the two of you walk out to Wayne’s truck, your arms loaded down with leftovers for him to take home. After you have everything stowed away, Wayne gets in and gives you a single wave goodbye. He tells you to say goodbye to Eddie for him, and he’ll call him in the morning. Wayne has said he piece, and he’s a man who says what he means to say and lets it lie.
You wave right back as he drives off, leaving you both lighter and heavier.
Between Lizzie and Wayne, your mind is spiraling a little. There are so many expectations, including your own. And you can’t even seem to get your best friend alone for more than a couple of minutes so you can tell him that you fucking love him.
When you make your way to your back yard, you see that everyone has taken Wayne’s exit as a sign to start putting everything away. You can see Jane and Max through the kitchen window and decide to see if they need any help. Unfortunately, you don’t notice until it’s too late that Mark is in there, too.
His presence would be less annoying if he hadn’t spent the last hour hovering around you and if you weren’t so desperate to have Eddie and your house to yourself.
You go to grab some discarded napkins when Mark leans on the counter beside you.
“You really did all this by yourself?” he asks, gesturing with his hand.
“With help,” is your vague reply.
You’d planned most of it, but as always, the whole gang pitched in.
“You always were good at this kinda thing.”
Before you can respond, you see your saving grace from the corner of your eye in the form of a heavily pregnant redhead.
“Hey,” she begins talking to you, completely ignoring Mark, “do you still have ice cream?”
It’s a random ass question, but you decide to go with it. Plus she is pregnant and probably really wants ice cream, “Yeah, but if you eat all of the chocolate we’re going to have a Battle Royale at the fire pit. Pregnant or not.”
“Fair enough,” she goes toward the fridge, but stops and turns to Mark, “You’re still here?”
“Max,” you fake warn.
“What?” she asks innocently.
“It’s nice to see you too, Mayfield.”
She holds up her left hand, shiny with a diamond ring, “It’s Sinclair. I’m married.”
That’s when Jane takes it upon herself to interject as well, dragging over her trash bag to stand next to Max, “I think she means the party is ending.”
Mark blinks at her, and as she is wont to do, Jane just stares back, completely expressionless. Max coughs to hide a smile. Unfortunately, Mark notices.
“Have you two always been this hostile?”
“Yes,” is Max’s instant reply.
“Especially when people overstay,” Jane adds. She starts putting more trash in the bags.
You pinch the bridge of your nose to hide your grin, “Come on everyone…”
Mark straightens and tells the girls, “I’m just talking to her.”
He never got along with Max and Jane. They always made him bristly. He thought they were too headstrong. And they are too headstrong. That’s why you like them.
“And you’ve been ‘just talking to her’ for like an hour,” Max tells him.
“And she keeps trying to walk away,” Jane points out.
Mark scoffs quietly, “Okay, I guess I can take a hint.”
“Please take it far away,” Max replies.
She goes to the fridge and pretends to start looking for ice cream. Jane continues to stuff things in the garbage bags.
“See you later,” he tells you as he pulls his keys from his jacket pocket.
“Hopefully not,” Max says under her breath.
Mark still hears, but chooses not to reply.
“Yeah,” you tell him noncommittally.
Mark nods his head and makes a hasty retreat. You sigh in relief at seeing him go. The girls immediately drop their pretense.
“Finally!” Max exclaims.
“I agree,” starts Jane, “I never really liked that man.”
“Thanks for the assist,” you tell them as you go to take the bag from Jane, “Why don’t you two go outside. I’m going to start the dishwasher, and I’ll be right out.”
They both nod and Max quickly grabs a pint and a spoon, she always knew where the fucking ice cream was.
You take a second to center yourself as you load the final utensils in the dishwasher and get it running. As much as you’re dying to talk to Eddie, you also want to be present for your friends. It’s few and far between when you’re all together like this and you want to be able to actually enjoy them.
When you finally head outside, they’re all gathered around the fire pit. The people who stayed. Your family.
Steve is in the adirondack chair he always claims as his own, Emma tucked securely between his legs, a hand dragging lazily through her hair. Robin and Nancy share a blanket, their knees pressed together as Nancy is absentmindedly tracing patterns on Robin’s wrist. Jonathan sits a little apart from them on his own blanket. He’s quite content with his camera still attached to his face and a beer nearby. Will and Mike are shoulder to shoulder in their own two-person chair, speaking in low voices to one another. Lucas and Max are stretched out next to them, Max’s head in Lucas’s lap as he recounts a story to Dustin and gently rubs her belly. Dustin and Jane are crosslegged next to Eddie, Dustin listening intently to Lucas as Jane leans her head against Dustin’s shoulder.
Eddie looks up as you get nearer, “Wayne leave?”
“Yeah, he said he would call you in the morning.”
Eddie pats the spot next to him, “Been saving it for you, Sweets.”
You sit down right where you belong. Right now, it’s easy to just be present with Eddie, surrounded by your friends. There are no butterflies, just the warmth of the fire and easy conversation.
“Remember when Henderson tried to convince us that he found a new species of lizard?” Steve asks with a smirk as you sit down.
Dustin scoffs immediately, “Okay, first of all – “
“You did,” Max cuts in so sharply Lucas startles.
“I had a theory.”
“A nonsense theory, “ Nancy adds.
Everyone laughs, even Jonathan, who takes a sip of his beer then lets his camera trace over all your faces.
“It was almost groundbreaking,” Dustin insists, “If any of you had even the most basic grasp on science – “
“You wanted to call it a demogorgon,” Steve interrupts, “How did you even come up with a name like that?”
“The origins of the word begin circa 350 A.D. – “
“Let me cut you off there.”
“You’ve been cutting me off all night,” Dustin argues.
The laughter and conversation roll around the fire. There are years of stories and inside jokes. There’s never a dull moment amongst your people. It’s easy and familiar and much needed.
You glance over at Eddie without meaning to. He’s already looking at you, and now you can’t seem to look away. Your gaze is probably lingering too long, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
You’re knocked out of your trance by Robin’s voice, “Hey Sweets.”
She gets up like she’s going to get something.
“How can I help you?”
“May I interest you in a stroll to the cooler?”
You know, and so does everyone else, because Robin is the antithesis of subtle, that she has something she wants to talk to you about. Nancy smirks at you because she already knows what Robin is about to spill.
Despite how obvious the two of you are being, you get up and follow her the three steps to the cooler.
“So,” she begins and lowers her voice just slightly, “what was this I saw at the dessert table earlier?”
You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at her, “Was it me eating my fourth cupcake?”
She simply tilts her head at you, “Mark.”
Your stomach drops a little and you see Eddie’s back go straight. He’s definitely trying to listen. So is everyone else. The volume of their conversation has dropped dramatically.
“What about Mark?”
“I saw the two of you getting cozy by the dessert table.”
“Oh my god, Robin, no we were not. He was just making conversation, asking how I was and all that jazz.”
“That’s not what I saw,” she sing-songs.
“I don’t know what you think you saw,” you say as you rub your forehead, “but there was nothing untoward going on. We’re at Lizzie’s graduation party for chrissakes.”
“Well, you may think nothing is going on, but I saw the way he looked at you. He wants you back.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie’s jaw clench, and even though you hate everything about the conversation you are currently having, you have a fleeting thought about how hot it is.
“First of all, you’re wrong,” you tell your friend, “Second, even if he did want me back, I’m not interested. Third, why do you even care? You hate Mark.”
Eddie seems to relax a little, and you see Steve glance over at him. Steve gives him a look that you can’t decipher, and Eddie seems to ignore him. Then, Dustin notices Steve giving a look to Eddie which makes Dustin give a look to them both, and you’re thoroughly lost.
“You’re not interested in the hot, single dad who practically worships the ground that you walk on?” Robin asks.
“Lower your voice, and I’m not interested in Mark.”
She does what you ask, but it doesn’t make her next statement any less devastating, “So it’s just not that hot, single dad you’re interested in?”
“Robin, honey, I love you, but could we please stop talking about fucking Mark? Grab a drink so we can at least pretend we were having a normal conversation, and let’s go sit down with our friends.”
She reaches down and in the most exaggerated way possible, grabs a water from the cooler, making sure to flick you with the condensation from the bottle, “Aye, aye, captain.”
Robin sits back down with Nancy, a big smile on her face like she accomplished something, and you plop yourself down next to Eddie.
“So what were you and Buckley talking about?”
Usually, you appreciate when Eddie gets right to the point. You’re not quite sure if you feel that way in this particular moment, but you still decide to just tell him, “She’s being a menace as always. Bringing up ancient history.”
“Such as?”
“She asked about Mark.” Might as well get it out in the open.
Eddie clears his throat, “What about him?”
“She seems to think he’s interested.”
“Oh.”
“I told her the same thing I’m gonna tell you – even if he is, I’m not.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course not,” you tell him with finality.
He smiles with all of his teeth and leans his head on your shoulder, and he stays like that as you both rejoin the conversations going around the fire pit. The thirteen of you reminisce for probably another hour before people start yawning and nodding, prompting the dad of the group to announce he’s taking his baby mama home.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m old and I’m tired. I need to get my wife home and we need to make sure our kids haven’t killed each other,” Steve says as he and Emma stand.
Dustin stands and reaches a hand out to Jane to pull her up, “We’re going, too. We promised my mom we’d go to breakfast in the morning.”
Thus begins the mass exodus of your back yard.
There are more hugs and handshakes. Everyone says goodbye. You promise the girls you’re going to meet for lunch tomorrow before Robin and Nancy go back to Massachusetts.
Then, it’s just you and Eddie. But before you let your mind get too far ahead of you, you ask him to put out the fire while you grab the trash. You need a little more time to hype yourself up for what you hope will be a defining moment in your relationship, and he seems to agree
You survey what’s left of your hard work as you drag the trash out to the back.
The fairy lights twinkle softly over your backyard, casting everything in warm orange and faded green. Half-deflated balloons that read “2005” drag across the deck in the breeze, and somewhere down the block, someone’s setting off fireworks, probably celebrating a graduation of their own.
You’re exhausted. Good exhausted. It’s the kind that settles deep in your bones after a night full of laughter, too much food, and watching a girl you helped raise beam brighter than the stars overhead.
Now it’s just you and Eddie.
Finally.
He’s sitting on the back steps with his knees spread, forearms braced against them, a beer dangling loosely from his fingers. His curls are damp and frizzy from the late May heat, cheeks flushed from alcohol and emotion alike.
You leave the trash by the door and go to sit beside him.
“Well,” you sigh dramatically as you drop down, “we survived.”
Eddie huffs out a laugh and chucks his bottle at the trash can, “Barely. Henderson almost lit the grill on fire.”
“Technically, he did light the grill on fire.”
“You and your technicalities,” he scoffs.
You grin, leaning your shoulder against his. For a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence isn’t awkward, despite what happened earlier after graduation. It never has been with Eddie.
Crickets hum in the trees. Music still plays faintly from inside the house. You instantly recognize the song. Fucking “Heaven” by Bryan Adams. Eddie stares out into the yard.
“She graduated,” he says quietly, like he still can’t believe it.
Your chest tightens, “I know.”
“I keep thinking she’s still that tiny kid hiding behind my legs after her first day of tee ball practice.”
You smile softly, “She cried for like twenty minutes.”
“She bit Steve.”
“She was defending your honor.”
“She was five!”
You both laugh at that. Then the laughter fades. And something changes.
Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the quiet. Maybe it’s the fact that there are no distractions. No timing issues. No almosts.
Just you. And Eddie.
He looks at you then. Really looks at you. There’s something dangerously open in his expression.
“You know,” he says softly, voice rough around the edges, “couldn’t’ve done any of this without you.”
It seems like that talk is starting now. You shake your head immediately, “You’ve already told me that, Munson.”
“No, I mean it,” he says and his eyes don’t leave yours, “I’ll tell you every day if I have to. Every science project, every fever, every nightmare, every parent-teacher conference where they thought I was gonna show up high out of my mind…”
You can’t help but snort.
“...you were there.”
His smile turns smaller and a bit softer.
“You stayed,” he all but whispers.
Your throat tightens painfully, “Of course I stayed. Never even thought about leaving.”
The words come out quieter than you mean them to.
Eddie’s gaze drops briefly to your mouth. Your pulse stutters.
There it is. That thing that’s always lived between you. Buried under years of bad timing and fear and almost-confessions.
His fingers brush yours accidentally, but neither of you pulls away.
“Jesus,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
“What?”
He shakes his head once, like he’s trying to clear it, but his hand turns, curling around yours fully now. It’s warm and calloused and familiar.
“Do you have any idea,” he says quietly, “how hard it’s been not to kiss you?”
Your breath catches. Eddie’s eyes light up.
“Then maybe,” you whisper, “you should stop trying not to.”
He squeezes your hand as he stares into your eyes like he’s looking for an answer to some kind of question he hasn’t asked yet. He pulls you closer, so close you can feel his breath against your face. It smells faintly of beer and mint gum. You wonder what his mouth tastes like.
“Fuck it.”
Eddie grabs you by the waist and pulls you the scant inch closer and kisses you like a man starving, his lips an almost bruising force on your own. His hand releases yours to slide up to the back of your neck so he can position your head in the way he wants. You barely manage a startled sound before you press your lips to his just as desperately.
Years, you think. years of this feeling. All of it crashes together at once.
His other hand slides around you farther to press against the small of your back, nudging you even closer to him as his tongue glides along the seam of your lips. You let him in and he licks into your mouth. His tongue is an insistent pressure on yours as they swirl together.
He presses gently against the underside of your jaw with his thumb, and you give in to the gentle pressure, letting your head fall back, disengaging your lips only so you can fucking breathe. His lips and trail across your jaw, down to your neck where he sucks lightly on your skin before tracing upward with his tongue. You feel the hiss of his exhale as he gently nips at your ear. It makes heat flare through your entire body and your nipples pucker. You can feel yourself getting wet and you squirm.
In your daydreams, you’d always thought your first real kiss with Eddie would be one of those slow, romantic things. A soft brush of lips, warm breath and gentle hands.
This is not soft or warm or gentle. This is hard and hot and rough. You’re undone and you want his tongue down your fucking throat.
But sitting side by side, the angle is awkward and you can’t touch him or feel him like you want. You let out a frustrated whine and he chuckles as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth.
It’s not enough.
Without even thinking, you throw a leg over both of his and climb into his lap, hands tangling in the front of his shirt to balance yourself, knees on either side of his thighs. He doesn’t complain. His hands move to your hips, gripping you tightly like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his hold for even a second.
Once you execute that move, the kiss turns messy fast. It’s hot. It’s breathless.
His teeth scrape lightly against your bottom lip as he tugs on it, and you feel him groan against your mouth when your fingers disappear into his curls and you tug gently at the hair at his nape. You experimentally rock your hips to get some relief from the ache building in your core, and when you do, you can feel the hard length of him pressing against you through two layers of clothing. He presses openmouthed kisses down the length of your neck as you arch against him.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, forehead falling against yours, breaths mingling, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted…”
You cut him off with another kiss, “Believe me Eddie, I know.”
One hand travels from your hip, under your shirt and up along the side of your waist to your ribs. It stops just below your breasts. You can feel the cool bite of his rings against your heated skin as his thumb gently brushes the lace he finds there.
“Shirt off?” he asks with an almost wild look in his eyes, and he waits until you give him an enthusiastic nod.
He grips the bottom hem like he’s gripping the last of his sanity before he lifts it off you with ease. It drops somewhere on the grass. Goosebumps spread across your body as you’re exposed to the cooling night air, and your nipples get impossibly harder.
He pulls back slightly to take you in, wearing what you’re glad is one of your good bras, straddling his lap, lips swollen and spit slicked from his kisses.
“Goddammit, you’re beautiful.”
The hand that isn’t holding you moves upward that tiny bit more to fully engulf one of your breasts over the black lace. He kneads the flesh, testing the weight and feel of it in his palm. His thumb and forefinger meet to tweak your hardened nipple and you moan at the sensation as his cock twitches against your thigh.
Your hips buck involuntarily at the contact and Eddie groans as he nips at your chin.
“You like that, baby?”
Baby. Fuck.
You can’t do much but nod silently as he takes the cup of your bra and drags it down, exposing you to his hungry view. His eyes have gone almost fully black, the pupil dilated by desire. You can feel your juices soaking through your jeans. It’s one of the hottest things you've ever seen, the wild look in his eyes as stares at you.
His tongue comes out to wet his lips as he pants, “Fuck! I want it in my mouth. Can I?”
“Please, Eddie…” you practically beg. You want nothing more than this man’s mouth all over you.
He wastes no time engulfing the bud between his lips, capturing it with his teeth, tongue flicking back and forth in a way that makes you clench your thighs around his waist.
“Jesus Christ, I love these fucking nipples,” he says as he draws down the other cup so he can tease the neglected one, “Tastes so sweet.”
You reach up to brace yourself on his shoulders and grind down again, seeking some sort of relief for your aching cunt. You think you could come just like that, moving yourself on Eddie’s lap as he licks and sucks you into a frenzy.
“Fuck, Eddie…”
He releases your nipple with a pop so he can look up at you, “Yeah, baby, tell me what you want. Do you want to ride me?” he grips your waist and thrusts upward with his hips, “Just like this? Like we’re in fucking high school?”
“P-please.”
“Goddamit you feel so good,” he says as he licks at your jaw, down the side of your neck, to your collarbone where he places his lips and sucks deep. Before, you’ve always hated when boyfriends left hickeys, you always thought they looked a little trashy, but right now you want nothing more than to be marked by him.
He runs his nose along the delicate skin, inhaling deeply.
“I can smell you,” he breathes out harshly against you, “Are you fucking wet for me, Sweets?”
“Why don’t you find out?” you tease. Where you gathered the boldness to ask that question, you don’t know. But sitting in his lap and seeing him look at you the way he is makes you feel wanton and wanted.
You lean back, offering yourself to him, and brace your hands behind you on his knees. His hands trail down over your breasts and your stomach to land at the waistband of your jeans. He looks up at you again, asking for permission.
“Touch me.”
He snaps open the fly and pulls the zipper down to reveal the lacy, black panties that match your bra. There’s a dainty, little bow on the front of them, and he gives you a wolfish grin. He can feel your heat where he lets his hands rest right above where you want him most, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin of your stomach.
“Jesus Christ. A fucking bow.”
You almost giggle, but stop abruptly on a gasp as one hand delves between your thighs to cup your mound over your underwear. You throw up your hands to brace yourself on his shoulders.
Eddie sucks in a breath and he feels the drenched fabric beneath his fingertips.
“Fucking soaked for me.”
He glides his middle finger over the wet lace, barely tracing the seam of your lips and you shiver when he reaches your swollen clit. He only gives you the barest touch and you whine, seeking out his lips for another bruising kiss.
“So sensitive,” he murmurs against the tops of your breasts as his tongue delves between them to lick the sweat gathering on your skin, “So needy.”
You try to grind down on him, but he stops you with a firm grip with his other hand.
“Uh uh. Be a good girl and I’ll give you what you want. Just let me play.”
He rubs teasing circles over your clothed clit, and your hips jump, but you do your best to obey and not shamelessly rut yourself against him like you want to. Only a few brushes of his fingers and you already feel like you’re on the edge.
“That’s a good girl. I’m gonna finger fuck this pretty pussy until you cum all over my hand,” he says roughly as he slides the gusset of your panties aside with his knuckles. He runs one finger teasingly through your slick and you don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice as you moan.
“God, Eddie. Yes…”
You barely make out the words before he’s adding another finger to slide inside your fluttering hole.
“So fucking tight,” Eddie murmurs as his forehead rests against yours, his eyes aimed downward where his fingers disappear inside of you, “So fuckin’ pretty on my fingers.”
He presses his thumb down hard on your clit and your cunt clenches around him. You can feel every callous against your slick walls as he curls his digits just right, hitting that spot deep inside you that you can never reach on your own. You squeeze your eyes shut against the sensation.
Eddie tsks, “Open your eyes baby. I wanna see you.”
He twists his hand, bullying against your G-spot as he stares directly into your eyes, like a mystery he’s trying to solve, watching every emotion play across your face with rapt attention.
“Fuck, Eddie, right there,” you tell him on a ragged breath. You’re practically flooding him with your wetness.
“Yeah? Getting so worked up with just my fingers?”
He teases each nipple with his tongue as his hips start to rock. He feels impossibly hard and long beneath you, and all you can think about is how badly you want him inside you, stretching you to your limit.
He pulls his fingers out slowly, gathering your juices, and bringing them to your lips.
“Open,” he commands, “Taste yourself.”
You take his fingers into your mouth, licking and sucking on them greedily, the taste of Eddie’s skin just underneath yours. The mixture is heady. Once he’s satisfied, he removes the fingers from your mouth and replaces them with his tongue, shoving it down your throat to taste your essence.
His hands take up real estate on your ass, squeezing and molding the flesh as he moves you against him. You ride him shamelessly.
“Can you feel how hard I am for you? Got me leaking in my jeans.”
“I want to touch you,” you tell him as you trail your hands from his shoulders, down the front of his shirt to palm him over his jeans, “Please, Eddie.”
He bucks into you one last time before he nods, “Fucking take me out.”
You don’t waste any time popping the button of the black denim and lowering his zipper. You slide your hand into his boxers and gasp as you take him in your hand. His skin is soft and warm, and he’s hard as fucking steel. When you release him from the confines of his underwear, he swears under his breath.
“Goddammit.”
He’s beautiful everywhere – thick and long enough that you can feel a little flip in your stomach at the thought of him breaching your entrance and filling you up. The tip of his cock is a dusky red, leaking pre-cum that you desperately want to taste. There’s a bulging vein running along the underside that you want nothing more than to trace with your tongue.
“Ain’t that a fucking sight,” he breathes, “Your tiny little hand wrapped around my cock. Squeeze it, baby.”
You do just as he tells you and he growls as he presses his head into your neck, biting down softly where it meets your shoulder.
“Jesus Christ, I can’t even look at it or I’m gonna cum,” he grunts.
He lifts his head to look up at you between his lashes. Your hair is wild, your eyes are glassy with lust. He wants to ruin you.
“Spit on it,” he commands softly, “Can you do that for me?”
You nod and obey, spitting directly on his cock, right on the head. Your hands glide up and down, stroking the velvet hardness now slick with the mixture of your spit and his pre-cum. His hips jerk with your movements..
“That’s it baby. A little harder.”
You tighten your grip and stroke him a little faster. A little whine escapes your mouth.
“What is it pretty baby? Tell me what you need.”
“Need you to touch me.”
He tightens his grip on your ass, “I am touching you baby. You’re gonna have to be more specific. Use your words.”
“I need your fingers,” you practically beg.
“Where?”
He holds your gaze. He wants you to tell him. He needs you to tell him.
“In my cunt,” you keen, not breaking eye contact as your hand travels up and down the length of his cock.
He gives you no warning before he shoves two fingers in your pussy and you cry out.
“Holy shit!”
“Is this where you want me, baby? In this tight little cunt. Goddamn, she’s swallowing me up.”
He curls his fingers right against the spot inside you he’s already memorized and your vision whites out. You’re practically gushing on his hand, walls clamping around his digits as you grind down on him.
“I want you to cum like this,” he tells you, “Clothes still fucking on, letting me fuck you with my fingers, your hand wrapped around my cock. Both of us just desperate to get off.”
You twist your hand on the glide up and brush his tip with your thumb. He gasps as you tease the slit. Your lips meet again in a sloppy, open mouthed kiss, tongues tangling together recklessly. You tighten your grip and set a rhythmic pace, hardly allowing him to breathe.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your cheek and begins to rub tight circles around your clit with his thumb.
“Are you gonna cum? Just like this, with nothing but my fingers? Squeezing my cock so good.”
You give a jerky nod as he pumps harder, wanting nothing more than to feel your silky walls clamp down on him. He fucks you with his fingers like he has something to prove.
“Yes, Eddie, I’m gonna cum,” you cry out as you feel the pressure build low in your stomach. It increases with every thrust. You’re right on the edge, on the verge of tipping over when he curls his fingers, hitting your G-spot at just the right angle and your pace on his cock falters.
You can feel the pleasure rippling over your skin in waves. He doesn’t stop, working you through your aftershocks with a slow, come hither motion.
“That’s it baby, ride it out,” he says, eyes locked on where you’re still stroking his cock, “Did so good for me.”
He slowly pulls his fingers from you and takes your hand. He guides your fingers from his aching dick to your gushing cunt and smears your juices on your palm. It’s fucking filthy and you fucking love it.
You give him a grin and you once again wrap your hands around his cock and stroke. You grip him firmly. You need to see him come undone.
“Yeah baby, faster,” he gasps, rutting into your hand like a wild animal.
You pick up the pace and look down at your lap where you’ve got him in your hands.
“Cum for me baby. Wanna see it on my skin,” you tell him.
You can see the muscles of Eddie’s abdomen contracting beneath his shirt as you twist your hand one more time. His spine arches, pleasure arcing over him like lightning, flowing from the base of his cock as he spurts pearly cum all over your hand.
“Jesus. Fuck,” he curses as you slow your pace, slowly milking him as his cock continues to throb.
His forehead falls to your collarbone and you kiss the top of his head and you both try and even out your breathing.
“It’s about time,” you say against his hair.
Suddenly Eddie goes still beneath you and you feel his hands loosen against your hips.
“Eddie?”
He pulls back abruptly, like he’s been hit. He’s breathing hard again.
“No,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, “No, no, this is…”
Your stomach drops.
“What?”
He stands too fast, and you basically fall off his lap in the process. You awkwardly pull your bra back into place as Eddie tucks himself back into his jeans. He paces a few steps away like he can physically outrun whatever’s happening in his head.
“This was a bad idea.”
The words hit like a slap and you simply stare at him as you wipe your hands on your pants.
“A bad idea?”
“I didn’t mean – shit!”
“Didn’t mean what?”
He won’t look at you, “I just – this changes everything.”
“Yeah,” you say quietly as you duck your head slightly to try to get into his line of sight, “It does.”
“I can’t screw this up,” he says it more to himself than to you.
“You think what just happened is screwing up?” you ask anyway.
“No!” he snaps immediately, finally looking at you. Panic shows openly on his face now, “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying, Eddie?”
He opens his mouth then promptly closes it. He doesn’t even have words for what he’s feeling. That’s always been the problem with the two of you, having feelings bigger than fucking language.
“I can’t lose you,” he says finally, voice cracking around the words.
“You’re not gonna lose me,” you tell him as you step closer to him.
“But I could,” His eyes shine under the patio lights, terrified and wrecked and painfully sincere, “And if this goes bad…”
“Why would it go bad?”
“Look what I just did to you.”
“What you did to me?”
He’s talking about making you come harder than you ever have in your life. Something you’d only dreamed about doing with Eddie. But the way he says it makes your stomach churn. Like it was a mistake. Like he regrets it.
Seemingly without thinking, he reaches for your jeans, which are still undone, like he’s going to zip them back up. You slap his hands away to do it yourself, feeling suddenly very vulnerable.
The silence stretches. Then, Eddie steps backward toward the front of the house, already retreating.
“I should go.”
Your chest aches and you feel a little dirty, and very exposed. You search the ground for your shirt, but Eddie beats you to it. You snatch it from him and throw it back on.
“Eddie, what the fuck?”
“I just – I need a minute.”
And before you can stop him, he’s gone. He’s left you standing alone in the glow of party lights, lips swollen from kissing him, the feel of him still between your legs. And now with your heart beating painfully against your ribs.
You don’t even know what to do. Eddie just gave you an orgasm and then fucking left basically saying that what the two of you had done was a big mistake. Usually when something greatly, horribly, monstrously awful happened to you, Eddie was the one you’d call. Except now, unless he’s on his knees, begging for forgiveness, Eddie is the last person you want to see.
Working on autopilot, you close down the backyard, basically ripping the string lights from the plug and throwing the garbage bags vaguely toward the trash can. All you can think about is taking a scalding hot shower and crawling into bed.
Not only are you pissed, you’re fucking hurt. What the fuck was going on in Eddie’s head? Why did he run away like he was being chased? Why wouldn’t he just stay and talk to you?
You don’t have the brain power to think about it anymore. It is going to have to wait for tomorrow. Right now, you have a checklist of two, shower and bed.
And you doubt sleep is going to come easy.
End Notes: I haven't written smut since I was a freshman in college, so if this sucked, I'm sorry. I will have chapters out for The Longest Campaign and Across Every Universe soon, I promise. I'm just trying to write myself out of some corners.
