People always say the same things about you.

Sweet, polite, and pretty in that soft sort of way that makes old women at the grocery store smile at you fondly and teachers immediately trust you with passing out papers.

The kind of girl who remembers everyone’s favorite candy, who waves when people let her cross the street, who still says bless you when someone sneezes, even if she doesn’t know them. Hawkins is small enough that kindness stands out, and yours seems endless.

It’s almost strange, really.

Not because you’re naive exactly, but because the world has not managed to harden you yet. You still help Dustin with his homework even after he acts like a little asshole all through dinner. You still leave little notes in his lunchbox and compliment strangers’ outfits and smile at people like you genuinely hope they’re having a good day.

And maybe that’s why nobody’s ever dated you.

Not for lack of trying, because boys definitely do. They trip over themselves around you constantly, all awkward grins and sweaty palms and invitations to the movies that you somehow never realize are dates until weeks later when Robin physically grabs your shoulders and says, “Honey, he was flirting with you.”

Your response had only been a confused blink. “He was?”

Robin had stared at you for a very long moment before muttering something about you being “a baby deer in the middle of hunting season.”

The thing is, romance has always felt like something happening around you instead of to you. Girls in your grade pass notes about kissing boys behind the bleachers while you sit beside them, doodling little stars in the margins of your notebook.

Nancy comes over ranting about Steve, and you listen carefully, chin in your palm, like she’s telling you a story from another planet entirely. Then there’s Eddie. And honestly, maybe the universe should’ve warned him first.

Because Eddie is used to people looking at him and immediately deciding what he is before he even opens his mouth. Freak. Burnout. Drug dealer. Satanist. Every adult in Hawkins looks at him like he’s one wrong move away from corrupting their children, and every girl who flirts with him does it with this expectation that he’ll play into the role they’ve already created in their heads.

But you don’t, you look at him the same way you look at everyone else: warmly.

The first time he really notices it is after Hellfire one night, when everyone else has already cleared out of the drama room except you, sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs, waiting for Dustin to finish arguing with Mike about some campaign detail. Eddie’s shoving books back into his bag when you quietly slide a can of Coke across the table toward him.

“I remembered this was your favorite,” you say simply.

And Eddie just stares at you. Because you remembered that. Not in a flirty way. Not trying to get anything from him. You’d just noticed him mentioning it once weeks ago and tucked the information away in that sweet little head of yours like it mattered.

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.

You blink at him softly. “What?”

“Nothin’, sweetheart.”

The nickname slips out before he can stop it. And the worst part is the way your entire face warms at it, ducking your head shyly like nobody’s ever called you something like that before. Which, horrifyingly enough for Eddie, might actually be true.

Steve’s living room is already loud by the time Eddie gets there.

Robin is halfway through aggressively arguing with Nancy about what movie they’re watching, Steve looks one inconvenience away from death on the couch, and somewhere in the kitchen, Dustin is complaining about the lack of “real snacks” like he personally funds the grocery shopping. 

It’s warm inside the Harrington house, all yellow lighting and cluttered blankets draped over the couch cushions, the kind of easy domesticity Eddie always feels a little strange stepping into. Then he sees you.

Curled up in the corner of the couch with sock-covered feet tucked beneath you, smiling the second the front door opens.

“Eddie!” you say brightly, like you hadn’t just seen him yesterday at Hellfire. “There’s still space next to me.”

That immediately becomes the worst moment of Eddie’s entire life.

Because there is space next to you, a very obvious space. One you apparently saved for him without thinking twice. Robin notices the way Eddie visibly hesitates in the doorway and has to fake a coughing fit into her sleeve to keep from laughing.

Eddie drops onto the couch beside you with what he hopes resembles casualness. “Well, sweetheart, how thoughtful of you. Saved me from sitting on the crusty Harrington carpet.”

Steve flips him off from the recliner. “You’re lucky you were invited at all.”

You giggle softly at that, and Eddie immediately has to look away from you.

The movie starts eventually, though Eddie barely absorbs any of it. Not when you’re sitting tucked against his side close enough that your knees keep brushing every few minutes. Every time it happens, you murmur a tiny “sorry” under your breath before doing it all over again thirty seconds later, entirely unaware of the psychological warfare you’re inflicting on him.

At some point during the movie, you start reaching into the popcorn bowl in his lap instead of the one on the coffee table. Again, absentmindedly. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world to lean across him every few minutes with your soft perfume surrounding him and your sleeve brushing against his rings.

Eddie thinks he may actually be dying.

“Oh my god, this part is so sad,” you whisper at one point, turning toward him with wide eyes.

Eddie blinks. “Sweetheart, this guy has been on screen for maybe four minutes.”

“I know,” you whisper back earnestly. “But look at him.”

And Christ.

That’s another thing about you, you care about everything. Movie characters with three lines. Stray cats behind Melvald’s. Random kids crying in the grocery store. You move through the world with this unbearable softness that makes Eddie feel simultaneously protective and completely ruined by you.

About halfway through the movie, the room cools enough that you quietly reach for the blanket bunched beside Eddie’s leg. He lifts it automatically to help you pull it over yourself, only for you to immediately lift one side toward him too.

“You’ll get cold,” you murmur.

Eddie stares at you for a beat too long before slowly ducking beneath the blanket beside you. Across the room, Robin physically presses her lips together to stop herself from making a noise. Then, somehow, things get worse. Because sometime during the second movie, you get sleepy.

Eddie notices it in little ways first. The slower blinking, the way your words trail off halfway through comments. Eventually, your head tips sideways against his shoulder so naturally that it almost seems unconscious.

The entire room goes quiet for exactly two seconds. Not because of you, but because Eddie completely freezes.

You don’t even realize what you’ve done at first, already half-asleep against him beneath the blanket. Then your eyes blink open slightly, face warming the tiniest bit when you realize where you’re leaning.

“Oh,” you mumble softly. “Is this okay?”

Eddie thinks his heart physically hurts.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘Course it is.”

You smile at that. Small and sleepy and trusting. Then your eyes drift shut again against his shoulder like there was never a possibility he’d say no. Robin watches Eddie very carefully after that. Specifically, the way he doesn’t move for the next hour, not even once.

By the time the movie ends, you’ve wandered into the kitchen with Nancy to help clean up empty soda cans while Dustin argues with Steve over something stupid in the dining room. Eddie is still sitting on the couch like he’s recovering from a near-death experience when Robin drops into the seat beside him.

“You are so unbelievably into her,” she says immediately.

Eddie scoffs without looking at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit. You looked at her like a Victorian man seeing an ankle.”

That finally gets a reluctant snort out of him. Robin grins, leaning back into the couch cushions. “She likes you too, y’know.”

Eddie’s expression changes instantly. “No, she doesn’t.” The response comes too fast. 

Robin’s face softens slightly beneath the teasing. “Eddie—”

“She’s nice to everybody,” he cuts in quietly, eyes flicking toward the hallway where you disappeared moments ago. “That’s just who she is.”

And maybe that’s the problem, because Eddie knows what people like him do to things that are soft.

Friday afternoon sunlight spills warm through the hallway windows, catching against Eddie’s face as he leans against the lockers outside your classroom like he’s been there a while, pretending not to wait for you.

Which is exactly what he’s been doing.

You almost miss him at first while stuffing books into your bag, too focused on making sure Dustin remembered his science worksheet this morning. It’s only when someone whistles obnoxiously down the hall, and Eddie flips them off without even turning around, that your eyes finally land on him.

And immediately, your stomach does something strange. Not bad, strange, just strange. Because Eddie’s looking at you already.

Not casually either. His dark eyes lock onto yours the second you notice him, and for a moment, he looks almost nervous, which feels impossible considering this is Eddie. Eddie, who performs lunch table monologues and flirts with teachers for extra credit, acts like the entire world is his stage.

You smile anyway.

“There she is,” he says, pushing off the lockers.

“Hi,” you answer softly, adjusting the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder. “Were you waiting for someone?”

Eddie actually laughs at that.

“Sweetheart,” he says, stepping closer, “you are genuinely killin’ me.”

Your brows pull together a little. “What?”

“Nothin’.” He shakes his head, grinning to himself before dragging his rings along the back of his neck. Suddenly, he looks oddly uncertain again. “Uh… actually, I was waitin’ for you.”

“Oh.” The word comes out quieter than you mean for it to.

The hallway around you buzzes with noise, lockers slamming and people shoving past each other on their way outside, but it suddenly feels very far away. Eddie shifts his weight once, eyes flicking over your face like he’s trying to gauge something.

Then he says, “You wanna go out with me tonight?”

“You mean…” You blink once. “Like a date?”

Eddie’s mouth twitches slightly. “Yeah, sweetheart. Like a date.”

And maybe it’s embarrassing how fast your face warms.

Not because you don’t want to go. God, you do. You think maybe you’ve wanted to for longer than you realized. It’s just that nobody’s ever looked at you quite like Eddie is right now, all careful confidence hiding something softer underneath. 

“Okay,” you say before you can overthink it.

Eddie stills. “Okay?”

You smile a little shyly. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

For a second, Eddie genuinely looks stunned.

Then the slowest grin spreads across his face, crooked and warm and so unfairly pretty that you have to glance down at your shoes for a second just to collect yourself.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, mostly to himself.

You laugh softly. “What?”

“There’s that thing again where you say yes to me like I just asked if you wanted a pencil instead of—” He cuts himself off with another disbelieving shake of his head. “Tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats, like he still can’t believe it.

He walks backward down the hallway afterward, still grinning at you in this helpless sort of way, before finally turning toward the exit. You stand there for a moment after he disappears, your heartbeat feeling strangely uneven beneath your ribs.

Then, naturally, you go find Robin.

She’s already behind the Family Video counter when you walk in later that afternoon, lazily rewinding tapes with Steve half-asleep beside her. The second she sees your face, her eyes narrow suspiciously.

“What happened?”

You blink. “Nothing happened.”

“That is not a nothing face.”

Steve lifts his head slightly from the counter. “What’s a nothing face?”

Robin points at you dramatically. “That face. That’s the face girls make before they tell you life-altering information.”

Your cheeks warm immediately. “It’s not life-altering.”

“Oh my god,” Robin gasps. “You kissed someone.”

“What? No!”

Steve snorts tiredly into the counter. Robin leans forward. “Then what?”

You hesitate for half a second before saying quietly, “Eddie asked me on a date.”

Then Robin slams both palms onto the counter so hard Steve nearly falls out of his chair. “I KNEW IT.”

Your face warms instantly beneath her stare. Steve looks significantly more awake now, too, blinking between the two of you while Robin points at you like you’ve personally validated her entire worldview.

“I told you he liked her,” she says to Steve.

Steve shrugs. “I mean, yeah. The guy looks at her like she personally invented music.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, covering your face briefly with your sleeve.

Robin immediately softens at that, grinning as she leans her elbows onto the counter. “Aw, honey, don’t look embarrassed. This is cute.”

Cute. The word alone makes your stomach flutter strangely.

You glance down shyly, tracing your thumb along the strap of your bag. “It’s just a date.”

“Mhm,” Robin hums knowingly. “And what exactly are we wearing to this very casual, definitely-not-important date?”

You blink. “I don’t know yet.”

Steve finally sits up straighter. “Wait, hold on. Tonight tonight?”

You nod once. Robin gasps dramatically. “Oh, this is serious.”

“It is not serious,” you protest immediately. 

Robin’s expression turns fond in that way it sometimes does around you, all teasing melting into something softer. “Sweetie, he stood outside your classroom looking nervous and was a statue when you fell asleep on him. You’ve altered his brain chemistry.”

You hide your face again with a quiet groan while Steve laughs under his breath.

“I’m serious,” Robin continues. “I have literally never seen him act normal around anybody he’s interested in.”

Before you can answer, Robin suddenly narrows her eyes. “Wait. Have you even been on a date before?”

You hesitate just long enough for her to gasp. “Oh, my god.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you say quickly.

Steve blinks at you. “Like… ever?”

You shrug awkwardly. “I don’t know. Nobody’s really asked.”

Robin and Steve share a look over your head that feels deeply loaded.

“What?” you ask suspiciously.

Robin shakes her head slowly. “Nothing. I just think half the male population of Hawkins is profoundly stupid.”

You laugh quietly at that, cheeks still warm. “You guys are making this sound way more dramatic than it is.”

Robin reaches over the counter to squeeze your hand once. “No, honey. We’re making it sound exactly as dramatic as it is.”

By seven o’clock, your bedroom looks like a small tornado passed through it.

Not because you’re trying overly hard, exactly. More because every outfit suddenly feels wrong the second you put it on. Robin’s teasing voice still echoes faintly in your head every time you glance in the mirror.

"Eddie Munson stood outside your classroom, nervous."

Which is ridiculous, Eddie doesn’t get nervous. However, your stomach has been fluttering stupidly for the last hour anyway.

Eventually, you settle on something simple. Something that still feels like you. Soft sweater, jeans that fit nicely, a little lip gloss Nancy once insisted you’d “thank her for later.” By the time you finally step out of your bedroom, the house is quiet except for the television murmuring faintly from the living room.

Dustin is sprawled across the couch with a bowl of cereal balanced on his stomach despite the fact it’s fully evening. He glances up absentmindedly at first.

His entire face lights up. “Whoa.”

You immediately laugh nervously. “What?”

“You look pretty.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you slightly off guard. Dustin sits up straighter on the couch, grinning at you in a way that suddenly reminds you painfully that he’s still your little brother underneath all the dramatics and endless talking.

“You really think so?”

“Duh.” He gestures vaguely with his spoon. “Eddie’s gonna freak out.”

Your cheeks warm instantly. “Dustin.”

“What? He likes you like… aggressively.”

You laugh softly despite yourself, smoothing your hands nervously over your sleeves. “Robin said the same thing.”

“Because it’s true,” Dustin says, like it’s obvious. “He talks about you all the time.”

That makes you blink. “He does?”

“Oh my god,” Dustin groans, dropping back dramatically against the couch cushions. “You seriously have no idea, do you?”

Before you can answer, headlights sweep briefly across the front window.

Dustin sits bolt upright immediately. “He’s here.”

Dustin notices your expression and grins even wider. “You’re nervous.”

“I am not.”

“You are,” he says delightedly. “This is amazing.”

Then there’s a knock at the door, and your heartbeat feels too loud. Dustin looks between you and the front door with poorly concealed excitement before jumping up from the couch first.

“Oh, I’m answering it.”

“Dustin—”

Too late. He yanks the front door open with the energy of a child on Christmas morning.

Eddie’s standing on the porch in dark jeans and his leather jacket, curls slightly messy like he’s been dragging nervous hands through them. 

He’s holding a small bouquet of flowers that look suspiciously like they came from the little stand outside Melvald’s, and for once in his life, Eddie Munson actually seems unsure of himself.

Then his eyes land on you behind Dustin, and he completely forgets how to speak. Dustin looks back and forth between the two of you with visible delight.

“Oh my god,” he whispers dramatically. “He is freaking out.”

Eddie blinks once like he’s rebooting. “Henderson, I will kill you.”

“You brought flowers,” Dustin says smugly.

Eddie ignores him entirely, still staring at you in a way that makes your chest feel warm all over again. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi.” The word comes out softer than you intended.

Eddie swallows once. Then, very carefully, he holds the flowers out toward you. “These are for you.”

“Be home by ten!” Dustin calls dramatically as Eddie leads you back toward the van.

You pause halfway down the walkway. “Since when do you give me a curfew?”

“Since now,” he says importantly, leaning against the front doorframe. “And no funny business.”

Eddie scoffs loudly without looking back. “You are literally fifteen.”

“And wiser than both of you combined.”

You laugh softly under your breath as Eddie opens the passenger door for you with an exaggerated bow. 

“Goodbye, Dustin.”

“GOODBYE. BE SAFE. DON’T GET PREGNANT.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, face burning as Eddie bursts into helpless laughter beside you.

The front door slams shut before you can retaliate further.

“Your brother is insane.”

“You encourage him.”

“Because he’s funny.”

“He’s awful.”

Eddie laughs again as the van rumbles to life beneath you. The sound settles warmly through the small space alongside the radio's quiet static, and for a little while, things feel easy. 

Eddie drums his fingers against the steering wheel while he drives one-handed, occasionally glancing over at you with this small private smile that makes your stomach flutter every single time.

It isn’t until he pulls into the overlook outside town later that night that things start to shift.

The place is mostly empty this late, only a couple of scattered cars parked beneath the dark stretch of sky overlooking Hawkins. “This okay?” he asks.

You nod immediately. “Yeah. It’s pretty up here.”

Eddie’s eyes linger on your face for a second too long before he looks away again with a quiet hum. “Yeah,” he says softly. “It is.”

Then, after a moment, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.

You watch absentmindedly as he taps one loose and settles it between his lips, the flame from his lighter briefly illuminating the sharp lines of his face in warm orange. Smoke curls slowly into the night air once he exhales. 

You don’t know why you ask. Maybe curiosity, maybe because everything about Eddie feels a little intoxicating lately.

“Can I try one?”

Eddie freezes mid-exhale. Slowly, he turns toward you. “What?”

You shrug a little, suddenly oddly shy beneath the intensity of his stare. “Just once.”

For a second, he just looks at you. “You’ve never smoked before.”

It isn’t a question. You shake your head once. “No.”

Eddie lets out the faintest breath through his nose, eyes dragging away toward the windshield for a moment. His rings tap softly against the cigarette resting between his fingers.

And maybe this is exactly the kind of thing everyone in Hawkins expects from him. Corrupting nice girls in parked vans late at night. The thought should probably make him feel guilty. Instead, all he can think about is the way you’re looking at him right now, all soft curiosity and trust.

“Sweetheart,” he says slowly, “you really shouldn’t ask me things like that.”

Your brows pull together slightly. “Why?”

Eddie glances back at you then, dark eyes unreadable in the low lighting.

“Because,” he says quietly, “I’m probably gonna say yes.”

Before you can overthink it, Eddie sighs softly and shifts closer across the seat, cigarette still balanced between his fingers. “C’mere.”

You lean closer instinctively, knees brushing his in the cramped space between the seats. Eddie watches you the entire time, gaze flicking once toward your mouth before he catches himself.

“This’ll probably taste awful, by the way.”

You smile a little. “You’re really selling it.”

“Just bein’ honest.”

Carefully, he lifts the cigarette toward your lips. And Christ. The sight alone nearly does him in.

You hesitate only briefly before taking a tentative inhale exactly the way he showed you. Almost immediately, your face scrunches up as you start coughing lightly into your sleeve.

Eddie laughs instantly, reaching over to rub a warm hand against your back. “Easy, easy— there she is.”

“That is horrible,” you rasp between coughs, eyes watering slightly.

“I did warn you.”

You’re still laughing softly at yourself when you finally glance back up at him, only to realize how close he is now. For a moment, neither of you moves.

The cigarette burns slowly between Eddie’s fingers, forgotten entirely now as his eyes stay fixed on yours. You can still feel the warmth of his hand through your sweater, where it rests against your back. Though the look on his face is becoming significantly less careful by the second.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod once.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Your voice comes out softer than usual, and Eddie notices immediately. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself, dragging his eyes away from your mouth with visible effort.

His hand slips from your back only so he can lean farther into the seat, head tipping briefly against it like he’s trying to regain control of his own thoughts.

You watch him for a second before smiling slightly. “What?”

Eddie laughs once, but there’s no real humor in it. “You have genuinely no idea what you do to me, huh?”

Your stomach flips hard enough to make you glance away. Not because you don’t understand what he means, you do.

Maybe not fully, or with the same confidence other girls seem to have, but you understand enough to feel the tension thickening between you now. The difference is you’re not afraid of it, not with him.

“You make me nervous, too,” you admit quietly.

That gets Eddie’s attention instantly. His head turns toward you again, curls falling slightly into his eyes. “I do?”

You nod, fingers fidgeting lightly in your lap. “You always look at me like you’re thinking something.”

Eddie goes very still. Because he is, constantly.

And suddenly, he’s picturing every single filthy thought he’s had about you over the last few weeks while you sat beside him smiling sweetly like you trusted him with your whole heart.

Every moment, he’s imagined pulling you into his lap, kissing you until you forgot your own name, hearing soft sounds fall from your mouth, all because of him.

Dangerous thoughts, especially about someone like you.

“You really wanna know what I’m thinking?” he asks finally, voice lower now.

The question sends heat crawling up your neck. Still, you nod.

Eddie studies your face for another long second. Then he leans closer again, slowly enough for you to stop him if you want to. You don’t.

“You sit next to me,” he murmurs, eyes flicking between yours and your mouth, “lookin’ all pretty and sweet all the time, and you don’t even realize what it does to me.”

Your breath catches quietly. 

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, almost pained, “I’m trying my best here not to ruin you.”

The word ruin sends a pulse of heat low in your stomach. His gaze darkens immediately at your reaction.

“There she is,” he says quietly, almost pleased. “That got your attention.”

Your face burns. “Eddie…”

“What?” he asks innocently, though there’s nothing innocent about him anymore. “You asked.”

You should probably tell him to stop. Instead, you whisper, “Keep talking.”

Eddie actually closes his eyes briefly at that. When he opens them again, his face slips into something soft, following something dangerous. Like the restraint he’s been clinging to all night is finally beginning to slip.

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs.

You laugh nervously. “I thought you were supposed to be the bad influence.”

“Oh, trust me, doll.” Eddie’s hand slides slowly along your knee, warm and deliberate enough to make your pulse jump. “I am.”

The touch alone feels impossibly intimate. Not because it’s inappropriate, not because it’s even that scandalous. But because it’s Eddie.

Because he’s touching you like he’s trying very hard not to scare you away while simultaneously imagining a thousand worse things.

“You know what the worst part is?” he asks quietly.

You shake your head once.

“I don’t even think you mean to do it.”

His thumb brushes absentmindedly against your knee, and you swear he notices the exact second your breathing changes.

“You smile at me,” he continues softly, “sit close to me, remember little details that nobody should remember… and every time you do, I think maybe this is the moment I finally lose my mind.”

Your heart is pounding so hard now you’re convinced he can hear it. Especially when his eyes drop once more toward your mouth.

Eddie’s thumb is still stroking slow circles over your knee, his dark eyes locked on your mouth like he’s starving for it. You can barely breathe.

“Eddie…” you whisper, not sure what you’re even asking for.

He lets out a shaky breath, like your voice alone is undoing him. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you lean in the last few inches and press your lips to his: soft, uncertain, barely a kiss at all, more like a gentle brush. 

Eddie freezes for half a second, then groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth. His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck, careful, as he tilts his head and kisses you back properly, like he’s teaching you how good it can feel.

You make a tiny surprised sound when his tongue traces your bottom lip, and he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing hard.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough. “We can stop anytime. Just tell me.”

“I don’t want to stop,” you whisper, cheeks burning. Your hands are trembling as you reach up and curl your fingers into his jacket. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut like the words physically pain him. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that?”

He kisses you again, deeper this time, guiding you with gentle pressure until your mouth opens for him. The slide of his tongue against yours makes heat pool low in your belly, unfamiliar and overwhelming.

You try to match him, tentative and sweet, and when you shyly suck on his tongue, he makes a broken noise and pulls you closer across the seat.

He pants against your lips while his hand stays gentle on your neck, thumb stroking your jaw, but his other hand grips the edge of the seat like he’s holding himself back from devouring you.

You kiss him harder, braver now, and he rewards you with a soft moan that goes straight between your legs. When you accidentally graze his bottom lip with your teeth, something you’ve only ever seen in movies, he jerks, fingers tightening in your hair.

Eventually, he pulls back, eyes dark, lips swollen. “Back of the van?” he asks, almost hesitant. “Only if you want. We don’t have to—”

You nod before he can finish, heart hammering. “I want to. With you.”

Eddie helps you climb through to the back, spreading out the blankets he keeps there like he’s making a nest for you. He lays you down so gently it makes your chest ache, then settles over you on his elbows, careful not to crush you.

“Look at me, baby,” he says softly, brushing hair from your face. “We go as slow as you need. Tell me if anything hurts or feels weird, okay? Promise me.”

“I promise,” you whisper, reaching up to touch his cheek.

He kisses you again, slower, deeper, until you’re squirming beneath him.

His hands stay respectful at first, stroking your sides and waist, until you arch into him and he finally slides one under your sweater. The warmth of his palm on your bare skin makes you gasp.

“So soft,” he murmurs against your neck, kissing down the column of your throat. “So fucking perfect.”

You’re trembling when he helps you out of your sweater and bra, but not from fear. Eddie looks at you like you’re something holy, eyes reverent as he cups your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples until they tighten.

“Eddie—” Your voice breaks on his name when he leans down and takes one into his mouth, gentle suction and slow flicks of his tongue. You’ve never felt anything like it. Your hands fly to his hair, gripping curls, and he groans in approval.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Hold onto me.”

He works you open with patient fingers later, after your jeans and panties are gone, whispering praise the whole time.

“Relax for me, baby… just like that. Good girl. So wet already, fuck. All for me?”

You nod frantically, hips twitching. When he curls his fingers just right, you cry out, shocked by the sharp burst of pleasure.

“There?” he asks, voice low and pleased. He does it again, watching your face. “Yeah? You like that?”

You can barely speak, just whimper and nod. He keeps talking you through it, gentle but filthy, until you’re shaking apart on his fingers with a broken little moan.

He kisses you through it, then rests his forehead against yours while he rolls on a condom. “You sure, sweetheart? We can stop right here. I’d be happy just making you come all night.”

You shake your head, pulling him closer. “I want you. Please, Eddie.”

He enters you so slowly it almost hurts, a combination of pain and how careful he’s being, how full you feel. He stops every inch, murmuring against your temple.

“Breathe, baby. That’s it… doing so good for me. So tight—fuck, you feel incredible. Breathe, okay?”

When he bottoms out, you both moan. He stays still, buried deep, kissing you softly until the stretch eases into something warm and aching and good.

“Move,” you whisper, nails digging into his back. “Please.”

He rocks into you gently at first, then a little deeper when you start lifting your hips to meet him. Every thrust is measured, his voice a constant low rumble in your ear; praise, dirty little observations, encouragement.

“Look at you taking me so well… my sweet girl. Never thought I’d get to have you like this.”

You get bolder as it builds, wrapping your legs around his waist, experimentally clenching around him. Eddie’s rhythm falters.

“Shit—baby, do that again.”

You do, shy but eager, and he groans like he’s dying. On impulse, you tilt your head and bite his shoulder. Not hard, but just enough to leave a mark. Eddie curses loudly, his hips snapping forward harder for a second before he catches himself.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me lose it,” he laughs breathlessly, kissing you deep.

He reaches between you and rubs your clit in tight circles, voice growing rougher as you both get close.

“Come on, baby. Let me feel you. Want you to come on my cock—yeah, just like that. Good girl. So good for me.”

You shatter with his name on your lips, clenching around him so hard his thrusts turn erratic. He follows right after, burying his face in your neck as he comes with a broken moan, hips jerking.

Afterward, he stays inside you for a long moment, stroking your hair, pressing soft kisses to your flushed face.

“You okay?” he whispers, voice tender. “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, smiling shyly as you nuzzle into him. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”

Eddie laughs softly, pulling the blanket over both of you. “Yeah? Even when I almost lost my mind because you bit me?”

Eddie’s arm is wrapped carefully around your waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing slow patterns against your skin like he can’t stop touching you now that he’s allowed to. Not that you mind.

Your head rests against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly come back down while his other hand plays gently with your hair. Every few seconds, he presses absent little kisses to the top of your head like he’s doing it unconsciously, like affection simply spills out of him naturally around you.

You feel him shift slightly beneath you after a minute, enough that you tilt your chin up to look at him. He’s already staring down at you, dark curls messy, lips slightly swollen, expression somewhere between completely wrecked and deeply concerned.

“…You sure you’re okay?” he asks again quietly.

The question makes your chest ache a little. Not because it’s upsetting, but because he sounds genuinely nervous about it.

You smile softly almost immediately. “Yeah.”

Eddie studies your face carefully anyway, like he’s searching for any sign you don’t mean it. “Yeah?” he repeats.

“Mhm.”

“You promise?”

A quiet laugh leaves you then, small and sleepy and warm from where you’re curled against him. “Eddie.”

“What?” he says defensively, though his hand tightens slightly around your waist. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” Your fingers drift lazily along the chain around his neck while you look up at him. “I’m okay.”

Eddie exhales slowly through his nose, tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

You smile a little wider. “You say that a lot.”

“That’s because you keep doin’ things that make me need divine intervention.”

Your laugh this time is brighter, and Eddie immediately looks at you like he’s just won something.

There’s still this almost disbelieving softness in his expression now, like he hasn’t fully processed that this actually happened. That you happened. 

“You’re thinkin’ too hard,” you murmur.

His mouth twitches slightly. “Can you blame me?”

You shrug a little against him. “Maybe.”

“Sweetheart,” he says quietly, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek, “you trusted me with your first time. I think I’m allowed to spiral a little.”

Heat blooms softly across your face at the words.

“You’re really okay?” he asks one more time, softer now.

You nod against him. “Yeah.”

Then, after a tiny pause: “It was nice.”

Eddie goes completely still underneath you. Slowly, he lifts his head enough to stare down at you properly. “Nice?”

You blink innocently. “Yeah.”

A laugh bursts out of him so suddenly it startles you.

“Baby,” he says through his grin, “I am never letting you describe that as nice again.”

Your face warms instantly as you hide it against his chest with a groan, and Eddie just laughs harder, wrapping both arms around you tighter while pressing another kiss into your hair.

“There she is,” he murmurs fondly. “My sweet girl.”

The next morning feels strangely dreamy. Not in some dramatic life-changing way.

Dustin is still loudly arguing with the television before noon, the neighbor’s dog still won’t stop barking, and Hawkins still looks exactly the same outside your bedroom window.

Every time your mind drifts back to the night before, heat creeps slowly up your neck all over again. Eddie’s hands on your waist. The sound of his voice going rough when you kissed him back. The way he kept checking in afterward, like your comfort mattered more to him than anything else in the world.

You think maybe that’s your favorite part. Not the sex itself, though that had certainly been overwhelming in ways you’re still trying to process. It’s the fact that Eddie held you afterward like something precious.

The phone rings around two in the afternoon. You perk up instantly from your spot sprawled on the living room carpet, flipping through a magazine. Dustin glances over from the couch suspiciously while you practically scramble for it.

“Hello?”

A small pause. Then: “Hey, sweetheart.”

Your stomach flips immediately. You smile before you can help it, curling the phone cord loosely around your finger. “Hi.”

Eddie goes quiet for a second on the other end, like maybe hearing your voice affected him too much. When he speaks again, there’s a smile tucked into his words.

“How’re you feelin’ today?”

Warmth floods your face instantly. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Another tiny pause. “Good.”

From the couch, Dustin narrows his eyes. “Is that Eddie?”

You wave him off blindly while Eddie snorts quietly through the phone. “Your brother sounds possessive.”

“He’s nosy.”

“I heard that,” Dustin calls loudly.

You laugh softly, and Eddie goes quiet again for half a second in that way he keeps doing now, like hearing you laugh still catches him off guard.

“So,” he says eventually, voice lower now, easier. “I was wonderin’ if maybe you wanted to come to the Hideout tonight.”

“The bar?”

“Mm.” You can practically hear him lighting a cigarette through the phone. “Thought maybe I could buy you a drink. Since you’re all grown up now.”

Your face burns instantly. “Eddie.”

“What?” he asks innocently. “You are.”

You tuck your hair behind your ear shyly despite the fact that he can’t see you. “I’ve never been to the Hideout before.”

“I know.”

And for some reason, the way he says it sends warmth straight through you again. Like he enjoys being the first person to show you these things. 

“Only if you want to,” he adds after a second, softer this time. “No pressure.”

You smile immediately at that. “I wanna go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie exhales quietly through his nose, almost sounding relieved. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll come get you around eight.”

“Okay.”

There’s another pause afterward that stretches warm and comfortable between you both. Then Eddie says, quieter now, “Missed you today.”

Your heart stutters embarrassingly hard. “Oh.”

A soft laugh crackles through the receiver. “There’s that little sound again.”

“What sound?”

“The one you make when I say somethin’ that gets in your head.”

You duck your face instinctively, even though he still can’t see you. From the couch, Dustin groans dramatically. “You are smiling so weird right now.”

The Hideout smells faintly like cigarettes, beer, and old wood, the second Eddie pushes the door open for you.

It’s darker inside than you expected, lit mostly by warm amber lights strung lazily behind the bar and the colored glow from an old neon beer sign buzzing softly in the corner. A band is setting up near the tiny stage in the back while people crowd around sticky tables, laughing too loudly over the music humming through the speakers.

His hand settles lightly against the small of your back, warmth through your shirt as he leans closer so you can hear him over the noise. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You glance up at him and smile. “Yeah. It’s just different than I expected.”

Eddie grins. “What, you thought it’d be glamorous?”

“A little.”

“Aw, honey.” He nudges you gently toward the bar. “This place barely passes health inspection.”

You laugh softly under your breath, and Eddie’s expression immediately softens at the sound like it always does now. There’s still something almost disbelieving in the way he looks at you tonight, like he can’t quite process that you came here with him willingly. That you’re sitting beside him at the Hideout, of all places. 

The bartender greets Eddie immediately as soon as you slide onto the stools. “Munson.”

“Hey, Frank.”

Then Frank notices you beside him, one brow lifting slowly.

Eddie catches it instantly. “Don’t start.”

Frank smirks knowingly before wiping down the counter. “Wouldn’t dream of it. What can I get you two?”

Eddie glances sideways at you thoughtfully for a second, tapping his rings lightly against the bartop. “Lemme get a beer…”

Then his eyes flick back toward you again, something amused flickering there.

“And a Dirty Shirley for her.”

You blink. “How did you know that’s what I’d like?”

Eddie shrugs casually, though the corner of his mouth twitches upward. “You just seem like a Dirty Shirley kinda girl.”

The answer makes you laugh softly. And for some reason, Eddie looks absurdly pleased with himself over that. When the drinks arrive a minute later, you eye yours curiously before taking a cautious sip through the straw.

Immediately, your face brightens. “Oh, this is good.”

Eddie snorts into his beer. “Yeah, because it’s basically candy.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Nah.” His gaze drifts slowly over your face again, softer now. “Kinda fits you, actually.”

Heat creeps up your neck at the way he says it. You glance down shyly at your drink while Eddie leans one elbow onto the bar beside you, watching you with open fondness now that nobody from school is around to see it.

“You nervous?” he asks after a moment.

“A little.”

“About bein’ here?”

You shrug slightly. “I guess.”

Eddie hums quietly, eyes flicking around the crowded bar before settling back on you. “Nobody’s gonna bother you while you’re with me.”

The words shouldn’t affect you as much as they do. Maybe it’s the confidence in his voice. Maybe it’s the fact that he says it so naturally, like protecting you is already instinct.

Or maybe it’s just Eddie.

“Good,” you say softly before taking another sip.

Eddie goes suspiciously quiet beside you, and you glance over. “What?”

His eyes drag slowly from your lips back up to your face.

“Nothin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You just look real pretty sittin’ here.”

The music hums warmly through your chest now instead of pounding against it, and the second Dirty Shirley Eddie absolutely did not need to buy you has left your cheeks pleasantly warm. You’re leaning closer to him without thinking anymore, your knee pressed between his, where he sits angled toward you at the bar like the rest of the room barely exists.

Eddie’s halfway through telling you some ridiculous story about Gareth nearly setting a school amplifier on fire when you start laughing hard enough to grab onto his arm.

And that completely derails him.

He loses his train of thought instantly, eyes dropping to your hand wrapped around his forearm before slowly flicking back up toward your face. You’re still smiling at him, all sweet and tipsy, entirely unaware of the effect you have on him.

“Why’d you stop talking?” you ask.

Eddie blinks once. “You’re pretty distracting, sweetheart.”

Your face warms immediately.

“There she is,” he murmurs fondly into his beer.

Eventually, the bar starts getting louder as more people crowd in, conversations overlapping with the music until Eddie notices you beginning to glance around, slightly overwhelmed. 

His hand settles instinctively against your knee beneath the bar. “You wanna get outta here?”

You look back at him immediately. “Yeah.”

Eddie studies your face carefully for a second before asking softer, “Wanna come back to my place?”

And maybe it should feel more scandalous than it does. Instead, all you feel is warm trust settling low in your chest when you nod. “Okay.”

The drive to the trailer park is quiet in the nicest way.

One of Eddie’s tapes plays softly through the van speakers while warm night air drifts through the cracked windows. Your head rests lazily against the seat as streetlights pass over Eddie’s face every few seconds, catching the silver of his rings against the steering wheel.

He keeps glancing at you, not subtly either. Every time you catch him, he smiles crookedly to himself before looking back at the road.

By the time he parks outside the trailer, you’re pleasantly floaty enough that you don’t even think twice before following him up the steps. The trailer is dim and familiar from all the times you’ve picked Dustin up after Hellfire. Eddie immediately tosses his keys onto the counter before turning toward you.

“You want somethin’ to drink?”

You shake your head slightly before your eyes catch the cigarette pack sticking halfway out of his jacket pocket.

“…Can I try another one?”

Eddie actually laughs softly under his breath. “You are trouble.”

You smile innocently. “You said that already.”

“Yeah, well.” His eyes drag slowly over your face again. “Still true.”

This time, when he pulls a cigarette loose and lights it, you step closer before he even asks. Eddie notices immediately, something dark and pleased flickering briefly across his expression before he tamps it down.

“C’mere then, sweetheart.”

The pet name lands warm in your stomach now.

You lean in slightly while Eddie lifts the cigarette toward your mouth again, two fingers resting carefully beneath your chin to angle your face upward. The touch alone feels unfairly intimate, especially when his eyes stay fixed on your lips the entire time.

“That’s it,” he murmurs softly as you inhale carefully.

This time, you barely cough, and Eddie’s brows lift immediately. “Well, look at that.”

You laugh lightly through the smoke, a little proud of yourself despite how ridiculous that probably is.

Meanwhile, Eddie looks devastatingly fond. “That’s my girl,” he says quietly.

Your face flushes even more now, like that’s even possible. 

“You like it when I say stuff like that, huh?” he asks gently.

You glance down shyly. “Maybe.”

His grin turns downright dangerous. “Jesus Christ.”

Then, before you can recover from that, Eddie disappears briefly toward his bedroom area. You hear drawers opening for a second before he returns holding something glass and obnoxiously large in one hand.

You blink. “What’s that?”

“A bong.”

Your expression must give you away because Eddie immediately laughs. “Relax, sweetheart. It’s just weed.”

“I know what weed is.”

“Mhm.” He drops onto the couch cushions beside you, smirking slightly. “And yet you looked at it like a church girl.”

You nudge his shoulder lightly while he chuckles to himself, already packing it with practiced familiarity. Then he glances sideways at you.

“You wanna try?” There’s no pressure in his voice, just some boyish curiosity.

You hesitate briefly before nodding. “Okay.”

Eddie’s expression softens instantly into something almost unbearably affectionate. “Attagirl.”

Heat floods your face again.

A few minutes later, you’re sitting tucked against his side while he guides you through it patiently, one hand steady against your waist while the other helps position your fingers correctly.

“Slow,” he murmurs. “Yeah, just like that.”

You follow his instructions carefully, trying not to focus too hard on the fact that his mouth is barely inches from yours right now. The hit burns less than the cigarette but still catches in your throat enough to make you cough lightly against his shoulder afterward.

Eddie laughs warmly, rubbing your back. “That wasn’t too bad!”

“You make everything sound embarrassing.”

“That’s because everything you do is cute.”

Your face immediately buries against his shoulder while he laughs harder, wrapping an arm around you automatically like he can’t help himself anymore.

By the time the second hit settles in properly, you are absolutely gone.

You’re not panicking or dizzy or anything nightmare-inducing. Everything just suddenly feels unbelievably funny and soft all at once, like the entire trailer has been wrapped in warm cotton. The music playing quietly from Eddie’s radio sounds deeper somehow, and you cannot stop giggling every time he looks at you.

Which he keeps doing, constantly.

“You good there, sweetheart?” he asks from beside you, trying very hard not to laugh himself.

You stare at him for a second too long before nodding very seriously. “Your eyelashes are really pretty.”

That immediately breaks him. Eddie doubles over laughing, one hand covering his mouth while the other stays loosely around your waist to keep you upright, where you’re practically folded into his side on the couch.

“Oh my god,” he wheezes. “You’re high as a kite.”

You gasp softly like he’s offended you. “No, I’m not.”

“You just complimented my eyelashes like you discovered religion.”

“They are pretty.”

That only makes him laugh harder.

You narrow your eyes at him for approximately two seconds before dissolving into giggles, too, burying your face against his shoulder. Eddie wraps both arms around you automatically, then, still shaking slightly with laughter, he presses a kiss into your hair.

“Godt,” he murmurs fondly. “You’re adorable.”

You hum happily against him, completely content tucked into his chest while his rings drag lazily along your back.

A few minutes later, you start rambling, not about anything important either. Just whatever pops into your head.

“You know what’s weird?” you mumble suddenly.

“What’s weird?”

“The moon.”

Eddie snorts softly. “The moon.”

“Yeah. It just follows you around all the time. That’s weird behavior.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think the moon has behavior.”

“It does.”

“Mhm.”

You tilt your head up to look at him very seriously. “You smell good.”

Eddie visibly short-circuits for a second. “…Thanks.”

“And your hair is soft.”

“You touched my hair for like three seconds.”

“I know,” you sigh dreamily. “It was nice.”

That’s apparently the final straw. Eddie drops his forehead briefly against the top of your head with a groan. “Baby, you gotta stop sayin’ things like that before I lose my damn mind.”

You just smile at him sweetly, which does not help. Eventually, after you nearly fall asleep sitting upright against him, Eddie gently decides you need to move to the bed before your neck ends up permanently bent at a horrifying angle.

“C’mon, pretty girl.”

You blink sleepily up at him. “Hm?”

“Bedtime.”

The second he slides an arm beneath your knees and lifts you into his arms, you immediately wrap yourself around him with a soft little laugh.

Eddie steadies you against his chest easily, though his expression goes dangerously fond all over again when you instinctively nuzzle closer against his neck.

“You’re comfy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Like a heating pad.”

Eddie nearly walks directly into the wall laughing.

The mattress dips softly beneath you a moment later as he sets you down carefully onto his bed. You immediately starfishing across it in a way that makes him snort affectionately while crouching beside you.

“You wanna sleep in jeans, sweetheart?”

You make a face. “No.”

“Okay.” His voice stays gentle. “Can I help you change then?”

You nod immediately.  That feeling hits Eddie square in the chest every single time.

So he moves slowly. Helping you swap your jeans for a pair of old sweatpants and one of his oversized shirts while you continue mumbling nonsense the entire time.

“Attractive people should legally have warning labels,” you inform him seriously while he helps guide your arm through the sleeve.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. It’s stressful.”

Eddie laughs softly under his breath. “Poor thing.”

“I’m serious.” You squint at him sleepily. “You’re very handsome. It’s distracting.”

He actually stops moving for a second. “Good lord,” he mutters weakly.

“What?”

“Nothin’, baby.”

By the time you’re finally settled beneath the blankets, your eyes are barely staying open anymore. Eddie starts to pull away toward the edge of the bed before soft fingers catch loosely around his wrist.

“Stay.”

Eddie looks down at you for a long second before his entire expression melts. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he says softly, climbing in beside you. “I’m stayin’.”

By Monday morning, half of Hawkins High has already noticed the jacket.

Not because it’s particularly flashy. Eddie’s leather jacket has always looked a little worn around the sleeves, a little too big on you, where it hangs past your fingertips. But everyone knows who it belongs to. Hellfire patches and metal pins tend to stand out in a school full of pastel sweaters and varsity jackets.

You don’t even think much of it at first while standing at your locker between classes, adjusting your books against your hip as Robin practically materializes beside you with the energy of someone spotting celebrity gossip in real time.

“Oh, my god.”

You blink. “What?”

Robin gestures wildly toward your body. “The jacket.”

Your eyes drop downward like you somehow forgot you were wearing it. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Robin repeats incredulously. “That’s Eddie’s jacket.”

You shrug a little, though warmth immediately creeps into your cheeks anyway. “I got cold Saturday.”

“And he let you keep it?”

The way she says it makes you pause. “…Yeah?”

Robin stares at you for a very long moment before muttering, “That man is so far gone.”

You laugh softly under your breath, trying and failing to suppress your smile while Robin watches the entire thing happen in real time.

“Oh, you like him bad too,” she realizes immediately.

“I do not like him bad.”

“Honey, you are literally wearing his jacket. Is that not the universal equivalent of a declaration?”

Before you can answer, someone whistles from farther down the hallway.

You glance up instinctively just in time to see Eddie leaning beside the cafeteria doors, already beaming, looking at you. More specifically, at you in the jacket. The slow grin that spreads across his face afterward is downright unfair.

Robin physically grabs your arm. “Oh, he’s gonna be unbearable now.”

And she’s right. Because Eddie spends the rest of the day looking at you like he won something.

Every time you pass each other in the hallway, his eyes immediately flick toward the oversized sleeves swallowing your hands before dragging slowly back toward your face with a deeply pleased expression. 

At lunch, he hooks two fingers through one of the jacket loops while passing behind your chair and murmurs a quiet, “Looks better on you anyway, sweetheart,” directly into your ear.

You nearly forget how to speak afterward. By the end of the school day, your cheeks hurt from smiling.

Outside, the parking lot buzzes with engines starting and people spilling toward their cars in noisy groups while you make your way down the front steps. And there he is. Leaning against the side of his van with a cigarette resting between his lips, like he’s been waiting a while. The second he notices you walking toward him, his entire face softens.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

Eddie takes another drag from the cigarette while you stop between his knees, where he’s perched against the van door. “You survive another thrilling academic day?” he asks dryly.

“Barely.”

“Yeah? Tragic.”

You laugh quietly while his eyes drift over your face again, lingering there warm and heavy enough to make your stomach flutter. Then your gaze drops toward the cigarette between his fingers.

A slow smile pulls at his mouth. “What?”

You hesitate briefly before leaning in slightly. “Can I?”

This time, he doesn’t even tease you about it.

He simply lifts the cigarette toward your mouth automatically, eyes fixed steadily on your lips while you lean closer to take a slow drag. The smoke burns less now, familiar enough that you barely cough at all when you exhale.

Eddie watches the entire thing like he’s completely mesmerized.

“Atta’ girl,” he says quietly. The praise settles warm all through you.

Maybe it’s the nicotine. Or the way he’s looking at you. Or the fact that you spent the entire day missing him in a way that feels embarrassing to admit.

But suddenly you just want to kiss him, so you do. You lean forward softly, cigarette smoke still lingering faintly between you as your lips press against his. Eddie makes the quietest sound into your mouth.

His free hand immediately slides against your waist, pulling you closer between his knees while he kisses you back, slower this time, like he’s savoring it. Around you, the parking lot continues moving in noisy blurs, but Eddie kisses you like there’s nobody else there at all.

When you finally pull back slightly, he’s staring at you with completely blown pupils. 

For a second, he just looks at you. Then he lets out a quiet laugh under his breath, thumb brushing absentmindedly along your waist where it’s still holding you close.

“Who are you?” he murmurs, almost disbelieving.

Your face warms instantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie grins slowly, eyes flicking toward the cigarette still dangling between his fingers before dragging back to your mouth.

“Couple weeks ago you were apologizing for saying hell in front of teachers,” he says softly. “Now you’re stealin’ drags from my cigarettes and kissing me in the school parking lot.”

Heat blooms all through your chest at the way he says it. Not mocking, something more towards pleased. Like he’s enjoying watching this softer, bolder side of you emerge.

You smile shyly despite yourself. “Maybe you’re a bad influence.”

Eddie actually groans at that, dropping his forehead briefly against your shoulder.

“Sweetheart,” he mutters, “you cannot say things like that to me.”

“Why not?” you ask innocently. 

Eddie’s thumb hooks beneath your chin immediately.

“Because,” he says quietly, voice rough around the edges now, “you say it like you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

The warmth in your stomach deepens at that familiar tone, at the way he’s looking at you like he’s equal parts obsessed and completely doomed by it. And maybe you do understand a little more now.

Maybe that’s why your smile turns just slightly shy and knowing when you whisper, “Maybe I do.”

Eddie stares at you for half a second like you just physically struck him. Then he laughs softly under his breath, completely gone for you.

“There she is,” he murmurs.

He doesn’t reply with words after that, just hooks his fingers more firmly beneath your chin and drags your mouth back to his.

Eddie kisses like he’s addicted to it already, cigarette smoke still clinging faintly to him while his hand slides warm against your jaw. The parking lot noise fades somewhere far into the background as he tilts his head and kisses you again and again like he can’t help himself anymore.

And when you melt closer against him with a tiny contented sigh, Eddie smiles directly into your mouth, completely, and hopelessly ruined.

badda bing badda boom.

anyyywayyyyy, hope you all enjoyed.... i have a surprise coming at 11pm >:)

taglist is open!!

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@bitterestwillow@kozume-ko, @obsessed-eddie, @doomdabss, @julxsxx, @leelei1980@hexqueensupreme @ches-86 @plaidamoosette @bobiverses@meadows-ofasphodel @whitakerstorm @dreamerjj @sariahs-stuff @brrrainst3w @serendipdipity01 @hypersexytoptobottom @m-art000 @sisteramycatherine @walleloveseve @camsmunson101 @flavorfullstevepeachpuffs25 @abirdinthehouse @m-art000 @micheledawn1975 @whitakerstorm @cciessuzi @blackqueenie-18 @ggdawgg

He would walk for miles muttering

“I’m sure this rain won’t last

I’m sure its time is up

Though it’s pouring down, I’m sure this rain won’t last”

As it fell on Job’s eyes, this water of doubt

He said, “I’m wading in lies, it’s wearing me out

But if you want it, alright

I’ll buy it 

I’ll buy it 

I’ll buy it

I’ll buy it

I’ll buy it”

The wind screamed, “Blood too dirty for mosquitos

I hope that you die soon

Pray to any god you believe in”

—Job’s Eyes by Far

Eddie pats the pockets of his jacket, then his jeans, missing the obvious lump of his wallet. He lifts random items on the counter, checking beneath them for the folded leather. A glance at the microwave’s digital clock reminds him—he’s running late.

“Fuck,” he mutters, running back into his room to search the pockets of discarded jeans. Once he finds the missing item, he secures it to the chain on the pair he’s wearing, swiping the van keys off the table, ready to head out the front door. 

When he opens the door, he jumps at the sight of you on his front stoop, your fist raised to knock. Stumbling back, he presses a dramatic hand to his chest. “Jesus, dude! You scared the shit outta me!” 

Your shock melts into amusement, huffing out a laugh as you lower your hand. “Sorry, Eds.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I was just about to meet up with Chris. What’re you doin’ here? D’you need something?” He’s more jittery than usual, the clock ticking down the seconds until he’s well and truly late for the date with his girlfriend. 

Instead of answering, you climb up the last step entering his trailer, brushing past him into the living room. He watches you turn around to face him, standing with your hands clasped in front of you, hanging from your body. Letting the door swing shut, he glances at the clock again.

“Sweetheart, I really gotta go. What’s up?”

Any amusement you showed is now wiped clean from your face. Wide eyes and fluttering lashes gaze at him as you let out a mumble, “She’s not right for you.”

“What?”

He heard you, but he’s not sure if he heard you correctly. 

Letting go of your hands, you carefully move toward him, but your timid steps don’t stop until you’re almost toe-to-toe with him, sharing the same shallow breaths. Wide brown eyes follow the way your tongue slides over your dry lips, wetting them with a shine in the low lamp light of his trailer. 

The sight of you nearly chest to chest with him has his heart rate picking up. He’s been your best friend since preschool, but he’s only ever been this close to you a handful of times, and neither of you are in formal wear—so it can’t be one of those times.

The staring contest breaks with the downward tip of your chin, glancing at the minimal space between both of your bodies. His stare remains on the crown of your head—where your nervous eyes just were. His stomach twitches at the feeling of wandering fingers inching up the side of his abdomen. 

“You heard me,” the mutter is almost unintelligible until you look up at him again through painted black lashes. “She’s not right for you.” 

His huffing breath hitches at the smooth fingers weaseling their way under his band tee, the skin on his stomach jerks at the unfamiliar, cool touch. Sucking in a stuttering breath, his eyes flutter shut at the teasing tips of painted nails as they dance across his waistband. Forcing his eyes open with a struggle, he gulps. “I–I d–don’t…under–understand.”

Meeting his wide, brown irises with drawn brows and pouty lips, you whisper, “No? Wan’ me to explain?”

Nodding his head, he nervously clears his throat as your lips creep closer to his. This isn’t what he was expecting in terms of an explanation. He’s trying so hard not to lean in, but it’s like there’s a gravitational pull—like he’s stuck spinning aimlessly in your orbit. 

A strangled sound escapes his throat as you pull him by the shirt to the couch, shoving him down before settling onto his lap, legs bent on either side of his thighs. He calls your name softly, a miserable attempt to deter your actions.

“Y–You know I’m with Chris…” he shakily defends, an earnest attempt to remind you he’s a taken man. But you won’t hear it, sitting your weight onto the bulge beneath his fly. 

Roving hands slide up his chest, past his throat, and into the curls at the nape of his neck. His eyes close on their own volition, the scratching sensation of your nails on his scalp too much for his nervous system to handle. He can feel the soft puff of breath on his lips, the heat from your taunting mouth. He can almost feel the words you speak, your lips are practically on his own.

“Yeah? Well, maybe I have someone too. So let’s call it even.” 

The mention of you having a boyfriend or someone—as you put it—has him frowning. He doesn’t recall you mentioning anybody. You two told each other everything. Who is this guy? Eddie doesn’t get the chance to interrogate you when he feels your soft hand on his bare cock. 

Looking down, he watches you spread a bead of precum around the ruddy tip. He doesn’t remember you undoing his pants or pulling them down enough to free his length, but he also feels like he doesn’t remember the past minute since you walked in, guns blazing. 

“W–What are you doing?”

You let out what almost sounds like a whine, the noise makes his cock twitch in your firm grip. You breathe desperate breaths into his mouth, head bobbing forward to graze deprived lips to his. “I need you, Eddie. Please…I’ve needed you for so long,” you mewl, guiding his head through your drenched folds.

His forehead presses to yours, mouth dropped open in anguished pants. He’s trying so hard to understand what’s going on, but all the blood from his brain has rushed south. An unwilling moan leaves his throat at the feel of your warm arousal. Looking down his nose, he watches you sink down on his cock, the skirt he hadn’t even noticed you wearing now offering perfect, easy access. 

Biting back a groan at the way your walls adhere to him, squeezing him so well, he musters up enough power to utter a single word. “B–But–”

Rolling your hips, you hurriedly peck the lips you’ve been grazing with your own for the past twenty seconds, assuring him, “Nobody has to know, I promise. You know I can keep a secret…”

The way your head tilts has him following your lips, entranced by the small peck you granted him. Ringed fingers slide up your thighs, settling on your slow moving hips. Moaning at the feeling of you everywhere—breath on his lips, hands in his hair, cunt on his cock, scent in his nose—he can’t stop himself from guiding your hips faster. 

“T–This is wrong, we sh–shouldn’t be d–doing this.” His words are interrupted with stuttering moans and hissing pleasure as your pussy squeezes him so tightly. He’s getting close and he has no fucking clue how any of this happened. 

He was going somewhere when you arrived, somewhere he can’t remember now…

He was meant to do something—meet someone? Thoughts are functioning at a third of their typical speed in his head, every idea is dragged down by the drawl of your sinful hips. The pulsing of your walls mark each passing second his morality degrades in the flames of his desire. 

He feels your soft hands pull his head, catching his foggy gaze. “Don’t you know, baby? It’s not cheating if you don’t cum inside me… Be good, Eddie, baby. You can be good for me, right?” 

Melting at your saccharine words, he has to grit his teeth not to cum right then. Moans are free falling from his lips as your hips pick up the pace, fucking yourself on his hard cock. 

Planting a wet kiss to the corner of his lips, you mumble against his hot skin. “Or maybe…you want me to be good for you? I can do that… Is that how you wanna play, lover?”

A growl leaves his lips, hips twitching upwards, needing more from you. He’s never heard you speak like this, your voice is so fucked out, the things you’re saying—he feels like he’s losing his mind. Large hands grope your ass, working you up and down on his throbbing cock. 

“You’ll be good for her and I’ll be good for you. Or how about, you’ll be good for her…and I’ll be bad for you. Would you like that?” The question is tainted by a moan, the unfamiliar cadence makes his brain whir with static. 

Your words are all registering as dirty promises to Eddie. With no thoughts in his head to stop him, he flips you over as you squeal, your back falling to the old couch—the one you’ve spent many nights sleeping on. He watches with hunger as your breasts jiggle from the sudden movement—he doesn’t remember when your shirt came off, but he’s been a little preoccupied with every near kiss you tease him with. 

The new angle and his unforgiving thrusts have you moaning uncontrollably, gyrating hips making a pitiful attempt to meet his movements. Mumbling curses and hitching breaths into your neck, he cages you in. Beside his ear, he hears a combination of what sounds like panting breaths and giggling laughs from you—the same laugh you’d let out when you won every arcade game against him. 

“Oh, I knew there was something about you,” you pant out, whining as he bites the junction of your neck. “You like to be all sweet and silly, but you’re a beast aren’t you? 

Just take what you want in bed, hm?”

Your sultry words have his hips stuttering, losing the rhythm he built up. Running a sweaty hand down your conjoined bodies, he rubs the little button he’s been dying to play with. Hearing your breath catch in your throat, he relishes the way you moan his name as your walls squeeze the life out of his cock, throbbing around him in fluttering pulses. 

“Mm, fuck, sweetheart. Cunt feels s’fucking good, pretty.” 

He feels your hot gaze on his face as his eyes roll back, stomach clenching, balls pulling taut to his body. For the life of him, he can’t remember what he’s supposed to do right now. Can’t remember if there's a formality he should partake in, a question he should ask you before the fiery feeling becomes too much. 

“Remember the rules, lover boy,” you warn with a moan.

“F–Fuck,” he drawls, languid hips carry him through his orgasm as rope after rope of his cum paints your warm walls. 

He drops onto your chest in exhaustion, and you smack the back of his shoulder blade. “Oh, naughty boy,” you chide, giving a punishing yank to his curls—only to earn a moan in response.

Drawing his head from your neck, you hold his hot cheek, looking into hazy eyes. “You wanna see your mess, pretty boy? Wanna see what you’ve done to me?” 

Struggling to catch his breath, Eddie nods tiredly, backing off of you. Right as he feels the squirming feeling of his soft cock sliding out of your wet hole—prepared to look at the oozing mess—he wakes with a start.

Face down into his sheets, the pillow shoved further up the bed than his body, he feels the most uncomfortable sensation he’s ever felt. He knows he was just humping the bed, he wouldn’t be in this position otherwise. Beneath his crotch, he feels a squelching wetness. Jumping up in a rush, he looks down, panting at the sight before him. 

His sheets are damp with a big, blotchy stain, and his boxers have a matching wetness. “Shit,” he mutters, scrambling off the bed and shoving the soiled underwear down his twitching legs. Grabbing a fresh pair of boxer briefs from the half-open dresser drawer against the wall, he glances back at the stain, tugging the fabric up before stripping the sheets off the lumpy, old mattress.

Eddie doesn’t remember anything, but it must’ve been some dream—this is the most he’s cum since he first discovered masturbation. Peeking out of his bedroom door, he notes Wayne’s absence. Sunday means diner day with his buddies from the plant, Sunday also means hang outs with you and the gang. You. He’s getting the weirdest sense of déjà vu having to do with you. Was he supposed to do something? Say something to you? 

Shaking off the confusing train of thought, he shuffles out of his room, shoves the dirty sheets into the wash with some detergent, and starts the cycle. Yanking open the refrigerator door, he grabs the orange juice, drinking right out of the carton—a habit you always yell at him for. 

He swipes away a stray drop of juice from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, messy in his movements, as he considers the last time he had an 'accident' like that—couldn’t be any less than five years ago. Snorting at the memory, the day after his first prom night was a doozy, one he doesn’t often like to reflect on. 

The phone rings, shaking against the wall with the shrill noise. He checks the clock on the microwave, giving himself another bout of déjà vu. Ignoring the strange feeling, he sets the carton of juice down, heading to the phone. 

“Munson residence, how may I direct your call?” he asks with a hoity-toity accent. 

A smile grows on his face as he hears your familiar giggle through the phone, you always laugh at every new way he answers your calls. “Hi, Edward.”

Despite the clear smile in your voice, he cringes at the name you use. “Oo, gross, hate it.”

“Well, it seemed right with the way you answered the phone.” You laugh at his dramatic gagging. 

“Okay, noted. I’ll never use that voice again.” 

“The world will thank you. What are you up to?”

“Uhh,” he hesitates, eyes darting between the washer and the cum soaked underwear still on his bedroom floor—he doesn’t think you need to know every detail of his morning. “Just drinkin’ some orange juice.”

“Out of a glass?” 

“...Yeah.”

You’ve known him long enough to be able to hear the lie in his voice. “Egh, you big fibber! You’re drinking out of the carton again, aren’t you?” 

“Hey! I resent that very true accusation!” Eddie’s cheeks ache from the wild grin stretched across his face—he loves getting to talk to you first thing in the morning. It reminds him of all those school years when you’d meet up before classes and every moment in between.

“Ugh, you’re a beast. You should be taken out back and shot Old Yeller style.” 

Snorting at your words, he can’t help the furrow of his brows. Something about your sentence sounds familiar—like you’ve said that very same thing to him before. Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he scrambles for a response.

“Yeah, well, I’d like to see you catch me. It’d be like hunting wabbits,” he finishes in his best Elmer Fudd impression. 

“Whatever, weirdo. Hey, what are we doing tonight, by the way? Steve was asking me.” 

“Uhh, I dunno,” too hung up on the mention of Steve, he can’t think straight until he lets the question fly. “You talked to Steve?”

He didn’t know you talked to Steve. He thought you two were only connected via his joint friendship with you both—only conversing when the group was together. 

“Yeah, he was over at my place the other day. Came to ask for that ‘Dirty Dancing’ VHS.”

The frown never leaves Eddie's face as he hums into the phone. “Hm…Family Video does house calls now? What, did they increase their budget?” 

He hears crackling static and your giggle over the line. “I don’t know,” you muse, “I think it was an excuse to come look at my dad’s new car. I mentioned the luxurious purchase last week, and well, you know Steve.” 

He does know Steve. He knows Steve better than you. He knows that the guy loves cars, but he loves women even more, and that’s what concerns him.

“Right,” Eddie feels a weird prickling sensation in his chest, choosing to ignore it, he carries on the conversation. “Uh, what about the arcade tonight?” 

“Sounds good to me. I’ll let Rob know. I’m sure she’s at work with Harrington right now.” 

The line goes quiet for a second. He pauses, it doesn't sound like you were done speaking. Then your voice picks up again, a quiet tone—different from the light and teasing smile he heard through the receiver a second ago. 

“Is Chrissy coming?”

Eddie’s eyes widen, this is the first time today he’s thought about Chrissy. Usually he gives her a call right when he wakes up, but he was so distracted with the mess he made, then you called, and he can never resist joking around with you. Shit, he needs to call his girlfriend. 

“Uh, you know what? I’m gonna call her right now and ask.” He rushes out a quick, “See you soon, sweetheart,” before hanging up. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.”

Dialling the number he knows by heart, he presses the yellow telephone to his ear, listening to the ring. 

“Hello?” The soft voice of his girlfriend pours through the static. 

“Oh, Chris! I’m so sorry, I forgot to call you when I woke up—it’s been a crazy morning.”

Muffled giggles preface her words, “It’s okay, Eddie. I was just about to go for a run. How’d you sleep?”

Suddenly uncomfortable with her question, he obfuscates, “Uh, I…it–slept fine. You?” 

Deeming less words better, he listens to her talk about the dream she had. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t want to divulge the events of his morning—cleaning up after his wet dream. It’s not like he hasn’t had sex with his girlfriend or that they abstain from talking about sex. It’s just that he doesn’t exactly remember the dream, so he’s not in the mood to flounder at her inevitable probing questions. 

He must’ve zoned out on her tale because he jumps when he hears a question directed at him. “Have you ever had a crazy dream where you’re like, ‘Woah, that felt so real’?”

Heart rate picking up, he doesn’t know why her question gives him so much anxiety all of a sudden. “Uh, not one I can remember—I don’t think… Hey, listen, I was wondering if you wanted to come to the arcade tonight with me and the group.” 

“Sure! Sounds fun! You’ll pick me up?”

“Yep, let’s do seven.”

After getting off the phone with her, he calls you back. He gets your machine but leaves a message confirming the time for tonight. With plans solidified, he goes about his day—making his bed with fresh sheets, writing down some notes for Hellfire, and doing more laundry. Seven approaches and he hasn’t thought about the mystery dream once. 

Arriving at the arcade with Chrissy, he greets you, Steve, and Robin. He notes that you look different than normal, but he can’t put his finger on it. Never exactly great with observations, he lets it slide—there’s been one too many times throughout the years where you’ve waited expectantly for him to notice your new haircut. Eventually you always have to tell him or it’ll be grown out again by the time he notices the change. 

The night is filled with fun and laughter—he watches contently as Steve and Robin argue over who will play Ms. Pac-Man first, and laughs at how Chrissy swoops in to play while they’re too busy bickering. You beat him at Joust like you always do, causing him to groan and complain and you to giggle maniacally. 

“Be good, Eddie,” you chide, telling him to behave like a man instead of a sore loser. 

The one time you lose to him is during a round of Ghosts ‘n Goblins—and only because he’s too busy sabotaging your gameplay. He constantly blows air in your ear, pinches your waist, and moans obnoxiously loud, drawing attention from those around you until you finally smack him.

When you don’t even make it past the stone hopping—instead sinking into the water—you slam your hands on the control board. Whipping around to Eddie, you angrily watch as he’s doubled over in laughter at his successful attempt to bring you down a peg. 

“You did that! That doesn’t count, it’s your fault I died! Look at what you’ve done to me!” You gesture to the pitiful end score, barely even making it off the first piece of land. 

His laughter dies down at the unsteady feeling in his body, he looks around at all of the young adults and kids in the bustling arcade. Déjà vu again, but he hasn’t been here in a while. Your words draw him back, his body feeling steady again.

“You owe me a game of Q*bert,” you threaten, marching off without looking back. 

Eddie moves to follow you, but Chrissy pops up in front of him. “Hey! Can I watch you play Dragon’s Lair? I really like when the princess is on screen, she’s so pretty.” 

Glancing down at his girlfriend’s big blue eyes, he realizes he hasn’t hung out with her much tonight. Looking around, he spots Steve and Robin bickering over a game of Punch Out—Robin laughing in Steve’s face while he complains about the machine being rigged. 

“Uhh, I was gonna–” his words catch in his throat. Telling his girlfriend ‘no’ to go hang out with his best friend who he’s been with all night sounds like a bad boyfriend move, so he doesn’t. 

Meeting your eyes from across the room, he sees you standing guard by the machine, keeping any annoying kids at bay while you wait for him. A faint smile lingers on your lips, but your eyes flick between Chrissy’s back and his wide brown ones.

He’s not sure if he saw what he thought he saw, but your smile seems to falter as he squeezes Chrissy’s hand. Glancing back down at his expectant girlfriend, he asks her to go wait by the Dragon’s Lair machine.

“I’ll be right there, I just need to go do something really quick.” 

Eddie feels awful when your smile brightens as he comes closer. “Ready to get pissed at the idiotic movements of a little ball of orange obsessed with geometry?” 

A rueful smile creeps across his face at your quip, fiddling with the rings on his fingers, he gestures vaguely to where Chrissy just was. “I would love to, sweetheart, but I think I–I should play a round with Chris. Don’t wan’ her to feel left out.”

The bright smile slowly falls off your face, a neutral look of understanding replaces it. “Yeah, of course! You should go–play with your–girlfriend.” 

He knows you're upset by the way you're overcompensating—being overly accommodating and offering stilted encouragement—and he wishes he could just play Q*bert with you. He’d much rather hear your evil laugh as you beat him yet again than play Dragon’s Lair, but he doesn’t want to upset Chrissy.

“How about this, we can come back here—just you and me—I’ll provide the change and you can bulldoze me all you want. I’ll even play Dig Dug with you.” He knows how much you love that game, especially because it’s your best one—and he has never won against you on that damn machine. 

The smile that pulls at your lips makes him want to run a mile in celebration—he’s got you. “Sure. But only if you get me pizza afterwards.”

“Deal,” he grins, shaking your hand.

All it took were a couple more dreams and wet sheets for Eddie to catch on. He couldn’t remember them at first, but then he started having weird reactions while around you or hearing your voice. Bit by bit, the dreams started to come back to him. 

Wandering hands, breathy sighs, your voice saying strings of words he never thought he’d hear come from your lips. It’s almost indiscernible. Dream you and you you. He’s known you for so long, you must have a whole room of files in his mind—information, memories, the way you speak, the cadence of your voice, the gait of your walk. 

Shock takes over his body, flooding his nervous system with unease every time he wakes up. Every single dream feels real. You feel real. He’s certain he knows the exact feel of your–

But then comes the guilt. The morose shame that threatens to drown him in the wet ashes of his morality. He’s tried everything—going to bed early, going to bed late, smoking weed before bed, drinking himself to sleep, not going to bed at all. 

You still worm your way into his unconscious mind. He’s so tired all the time, all he wants to do is sleep. At least in his dreams, everything is clear. You want him and he–

He won’t admit it. Admitting it would be the worst thing he could do. No. He loves his girlfriend. His sweet, kind, gentle girlfriend. He refuses to hurt her, she doesn’t deserve that. He can get better, he has to get better. 

This is just a weird perverted phase. Probably happens to every guy with a girl best friend as pretty as you–

No. 

Not pretty. 

Normal looking. 

A girl. 

With attractive qualities that most girls have. Nothing special and nothing new. 

He loves his girlfriend. He loves his girlfriend. He loves his girlfriend. 

And he’ll do anything to keep her. 

So he starts bailing on individual hangouts, making up excuses to avoid movie nights with you—barely answering the phone for fear he’ll hear your soothing voice right in his ear, just like–

Eddie’s refusal to pick up the telephone pisses Wayne off a lot, but he just can’t risk it. He can’t handle the shame that fills him every time he hears your giggle. 

He can’t cut you out of his life entirely—nor would he want to. He’d be lost without you. He just can’t be alone with you until this illness has surrendered its grip on his subconscious. Having the group as a buffer is fine, though—helpful, even—as it allows him to pretend he’s not cutting you off completely.

It’s four in the afternoon when he wakes up, drooling on his pillow and an uncomfortable hard-on pinned to the bed beneath restless hips. He’s learned to take what he can—at least he didn’t cum in his boxers this time. 

The time on the digital clock next to his mattress has him shooting out of bed, stumbling as the tangled sheets refuse to free his legs. Knocking into the bedside table, he scrambles to catch some knickknacks tumbling to the ground. “Shit, shit, shit!” 

Wayne must be close by in the kitchen because he hears his uncle’s gruff mumble. “Damn bull in a china shop.”

Throwing on whatever semi-clean clothes he can find, he tucks his unyielding erection into the waistband of his jeans before jogging into the kitchen for his keys. 

“Hey, Ed, that girlfrien’ o’ yours called. Said she was just gonna meet’ya there—wherever ‘there’ is. She wasn’t very specific.”

Eddie freezes at the relayed message from Chrissy, halting his attempt to pull on his dirty Reeboks. He straightens up to look at his uncle.

“What? Why didn’t you wake me up when she called? I was supposed to pick her up!”

Wayne shrugs, unfazed by Eddie’s admonishment, as he pulls a TV dinner from the tiny freezer and unwraps it. The lack of urgency in the man’s explanation is driving Eddie crazy—he’s already late, and now he knows his girlfriend had to drive herself because he couldn’t wake the hell up.

“Y’looked like you needed the sleep,” the old man grumbles, his eyes never leaving the task as he fiddles with the plastic wrapping.

Groaning, Eddie continues shoving his feet into his shoes before heading to the door. “That’s the last thing I need.” 

Wayne calls after him, asking about your whereabouts and why you haven’t been over lately. Eddie only gives a passive shrug, yelling out a half-assed, “Dunno,” before jumping in his van and tearing out of there.

Eddie’s running up to the group as they hover outside the Hideout, chains jingle as his heavy footsteps hit the gravel. “Hey, shit–sorry guys! I overslept.” Ignoring your wave, he stops right in front of a miffed Chrissy. 

“Dude, it’s 5:13…p.m.”

Scowling at Steve’s comment, Eddie wraps an arm around his girlfriend. “It was a nap,” he lies, leaning into the short blonde. 

“Sorry, baby, I overslept.”

Crossing her arms, she purses her lips at him, “I heard.”

Sparing a quick glance at you, his body jolts in surprise as he accidentally makes direct eye contact with you. You look upset at him—he hates that look. But guilt eats at him for even looking at you, so he turns back to his girlfriend. Grabbing her soft cheeks, he pulls her in for a messy kiss.

A shocked hum leaves Chrissy’s throat as she leans into him, arms unfolding and hands settling on his hips. He tries to ignore the discomfort her small, soft hands bring—that’s never something he’s felt when being touched by her before. Chalking it up to the unusual PDA, he breaks the wet kiss when Robin groans. 

“Egh! Get a room, guys. That’s so nasty.”

The group secures their usual booth once inside the busy bar. Typically, Chrissy doesn’t attend Thursday night drinks, so Eddie sits on one side of the booth with you while Steve and Robin take the other side. Today, when you slide into the seat opposite the already bickering knuckleheads, Eddie doesn’t follow. Instead, he hovers awkwardly at the end of the table with Chrissy, acutely aware of your expectant gaze on his face.

Biting the bullet, he avoids eye contact as he says, “Hey, uh…do you think you could let me and Chris sit there?” 

He’d rather walk over hot coals than sit next to you on that cracked leather seat. You’d be so close, there’d be no direct line of sight to your lower bodies under the table, he’d feel the dip of the cushion where your supple thighs splay–

He can’t sit next to you. Not until he’s better.

“Oh, Eddie, it’s fine. I can just pull up a chair.” 

The blonde moves to grab a nearby chair from a four-top, but his warm hand on her arm stops her. There’s a quarter-second lull—Steve and Robin falling silent at his request to you, your inability to move from your seat, his hand stopping Chrissy’s attempt to accommodate the usual seating chart. It’s only a fraction of a second, but it feels like ages when he catches sight of the hurt behind your eyes.

It’s like everything is transitioning from slow motion to regular speed when you scooch out of the booth, making room for the couple to sit down. 

Chrissy looks at you with wide eyes and pinched brows, “Are you sure? I’m fine sitting on the chair–”

“Sit down, Chris.” 

The girl’s attempt to check in with you is cut off by Eddie’s order, tension crackles in the air and nobody but Eddie understands why. 

Throwing a tight-lipped smile at the worried blonde, you pull a chair to the edge of the table. “It’s fine, Chrissy. Thank you, though.”

The rhythm of conversation wears down the tension—mostly thanks to the never-ending noise spilling from Steve and Robin. Something, something, Steve sucks at taking inventory and Robin is better—Eddie can’t really be bothered to keep up. The most he can offer are half-assed ‘yeahs’ and ‘uh-huhs’ to Chrissy as he toys with the condensation on his pint glass. Thankfully, you don’t have much to say tonight either.

Eddie knows you know he’s avoiding you—has been since Sunday. The two of you haven’t gone this long without talking or hanging out since before you even knew each other—which is saying something, considering he wasn’t exactly hitting the social scene before the age of five. 

Knowing you, you’re pissed at his ‘boyish’ ways—which is really just another way of calling him stupid for how he handles his emotions. That’s something you’ve always called him out on without hesitation. But he knows you won’t say a word in front of other people, so all he has to do is avoid being alone with you until his ailment passes. Then everything will go back to normal. He’ll be guilt-free with Chrissy, you’ll accept him back with open arms and a lecture, just like you always have, and everything will be as it should be.

There’s too much guilt in his body to feel shame over the way he’s leaning into his girlfriend, overcompensating with affection he wouldn’t otherwise display so publicly. This is his first real relationship, but even then, he’s never been the type to hang all over her like he is now, arm firmly around her shoulders, playing with her hair.

He touches you with no problem—well, he used to. He’d play with your hair, hug you, tug on your clothes, shove you when you’re being annoying—he’d do all of that in public and in private. But he’s never been very touchy with Chrissy, he’s not sure why. It’s not like she doesn’t touch him constantly. Maybe that’s why. She touches him so much already, he doesn’t feel the need to touch her. 

A lull in the conversation has you readjusting in your chair. You look like you’re about to say something and Eddie’s heart rate spikes. 

“Hey, Eds, I was able to secure a copy of Child’s Play if you wanna do movie night on Friday?” 

“Yeah, thanks to me reserving the first copy that came in,” Steve butts in, causing Robin to roll her eyes.  

“Sure, it was him—totally not me because he couldn’t remember what movie you wanted…” 

You laugh at her crossed arms and pinched brows. “Okay, thanks for the group effort, guys. You can share your kudos,” you placate.

Steve sits up at that, jaw dropped and tone resembling a petulant child. “I don’t wanna share with her, she’s a kudos hog!”

Robin cocks her head in consideration, “Kudos hog, huh. Odd way to refer to someone who’s always right.” 

Eddie watches as Steve looks at you, a hand gesturing to Robin’s face, “See what I mean?”

Chrissy's giggles echo around the table; unused to how annoying the bickering can get, she finds it hilarious. You lift a warning finger in their direction, eyebrows raised as you reprimand them. “Control yourselves before I muzzle you both.” 

Eddie moves to pick at the soggy label of the empty beer bottle from Steve’s previous drink—the condensation already wiped clean on his own pint glass. Hyper-focused on his fidgeting fingers, he doesn’t catch the way you turn back to him. 

“As I was saying,” the emphasis you put on the last word tells him you probably threw the two idiots a dirty look. “I got Child’s Play, so did you want me to come over Friday?” 

Chrissy has to elbow him to get his attention away from the way his blunt nails catch on the wet paper. “Eddie, she’s talking to you.”

Startled, he looks up, eyes darting around everyone’s faces—all attention on him. “Uh, yeah. I got work tomorrow, though. So just give it to Chris or something and we can watch it on Friday.” He turns to look at his girlfriend as he finishes the stuttering sentence. 

Robin frowns, catching sight of your resigned face—she’s pretty sure Eddie just pushed you out of your own plans. 

Chrissy’s head jerks back, face screwed up in disgust. “Ew, I don’t wanna see that movie. Dolls freak me out. Plus, I don’t do horror. Why don’t you two watch it, that’s what you usually do, right?”

Before you can answer, Eddie speaks up, “Well, I’m actually really booked up at the garage this week, so–”

“That’s fine, we can push it to next week–”

“Next week, too,” he hurries, cutting you off. “It’s a really busy month, actually.”

Robin eyes Steve, silently checking to make sure he’s hearing what she’s hearing. After Eddie’s obvious excuse, you don’t speak up for the rest of the evening—resigning yourself to silent sulking. 

Laying next to a sound asleep Chrissy, he stares aimlessly at the dark ceiling, listening to the hypnotic whirring sound of the box fan by his bed and the deep breaths coming from his girlfriend. Mentally shuffling through every D&D monster he can think of, he tries to train his brain to dream of something else for the night. 

Waking with a start, he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table—2:57 AM. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but luckily, he doesn’t recall any dreams his subconscious may have conjured in the short time he slept either.

Listening to the same old box fan, he lifts his head off the pillow, looking around the dark room. Everything is as it was when he laid down for the night and he can still hear the calming sound of his girlfriend’s deep breaths. Tired eyes fall on her sleeping form, watching the way her back moves with each expanding inhalation. 

Settling his gaze back on the ceiling—ready to count sheep back to sleep—he hears the rustle of sheets as she adjusts her position. 

“Eddie?”

He jolts upright onto his elbow, eyes snapping to the source of the voice—that’s definitely not his girlfriend. In the same spot he could’ve sworn Chrissy occupied only a second ago, you’re there, turned toward him, awake, and calling his name. Panicked breaths rush through his chest, and his eyes widen as they take in your soft, sleepy form.

He knows that look, he’s seen that look on every sleepover—every time you’d come into his room to check on him and end up staying over in his bed. But that hadn’t happened in almost a decade. Not since Wayne informed you two that boys and girls should sleep separate once they get to a certain age. 

He remembers how upset you were at the new rule change, not understanding what the big deal was—what the implication was. But Eddie knew. He understood what his uncle meant the moment he said it. He noticed the different feelings he experienced during that year, he had forcefully broken one too many longing glances during movie nights to confuse Wayne’s meaning. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Looking up at him through fluttering lashes, your head rests gently on the pillow. “I’m sleeping over…like you asked me to. What’s up with you?”

God, you sound so normal. You sound just like you. The plain tone, the straightforward answer—he has asked you to sleep over many times, but he definitely didn’t tonight. 

Eddie closes his eyes and shakes his head, hoping that maybe once he opens them, you’ll be gone and Chrissy will be back. But you’re still there when he looks down—still lying on his bed, in his sheets, your waiting eyes gazing up at him expectantly.

“Where’s Chrissy?”

Your eyebrows pinch together, “Who?”

He’s starting to get sick of these mind games. It wouldn’t shock him if he woke up in a padded room and the last few weeks were all just a very realistic hallucination. If that doesn’t happen, he’s considering looking into antipsychotics because this shit is driving him insane. 

Losing his patience, he bites out, “My girlfriend. Where is she? What did you do with her?”

Frowning, you sit up to level with him, leaning on your elbow to better address his concerns. “Eddie, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Sitting up fully, his eyes never leave your very real looking figure. “She was just here…” he mutters.

He watches as your concerned frown melts into an annoyed eye roll. “Oh, please. You’re so guilty you can’t even properly write her out of your own dream without crying about it.” 

His eyebrows twitch, creasing in focus as he studies your face, noticing it’s almost like you broke character—as hard as that is to compute in his head. “Who are you?” He asks the question slowly and steadily; he doesn’t even know how to begin wondering who—or what—you are, or why you’ve attached yourself to him, plaguing him constantly.

Sighing, you readjust to sit up more. “Ugh, you know who I am, Teddie. Same old me since preschool,” you shrug breezily, glancing down at your body as if the sight will convince him you’re the same. 

The use of your childhood nickname for him sends him reeling. Looking down, matching the tilt of your head, he takes in your appearance—as you do the same. He hadn’t noticed until now, but you’re wearing a black silk teddy nightgown. The disheveled, flimsy triangular fabric barely covering your breasts makes him gulp.

“Except I’m all womanly now,” you shimmy with a smirk. 

The confused frown never leaves his face as he narrows his eyes at your exposed figure. Shaking his head, he pants out a dissenting, “No, you’re not her.”

Amusement flashes across your face before you mask it with a curious pout. “I’m not?” 

Brown eyes follow your hand with rapt attention as you daintily caress your body—starting at your soft, bare thighs and ending at your supple, immodestly covered breasts. Giving a light push to your bust, you lean in. “Feels real… Think you should check?”

Swallowing harshly, Eddie shakes his head ever so slightly. “No.”

“No? But you dreamt me up like this. I’m all pretty just for you and you don’t wanna cop a feel? You’re breakin’ my heart, baby.” 

Sanity slipping at your crooning tone, he almost feels shame for rejecting you—even when you’re not real. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, truly contrite. 

You coo at his sad, muddy eyes. “It’s okay, honey. I know what’ll make you feel better. Let’s play house,” you coax with a smile. “It’ll be just like old times.” 

Ignoring his silent rejection—frizzy curls moving with the shake of his head—you come nose-to-nose with him. “I’ll play mommy and you can be daddy.”

The voice, the tone, the inflection, the visage, the faint perfume—it’s so you. But you’re not here. There’s no way. Not looking like that and not offering to play childhood games. 

He feels like a sailor slowly succumbing to insanity, constantly rejecting the siren’s call. There’s no escape from you—you’re in his head. Unable to plug his ears or sing a disruptive tune, you whisper sweet nothings in his mind every time he tries. He should just let you drag him under—let you have your way with him. He’ll sleep forever, and you can keep him as yours.

It takes a little too long for guilt to trail after that thought—he really is slipping.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he shakes his head fervently, wishing to wake up. “Stop,” he grits out, sounding far too pitiful. 

Feeling the breath of your words on his lips, you whisper, “But, daddy, I’m so confused. It doesn’t feel like you want me to stop.”

A stuttering exhale leaves parted lips as he feels the firm grip of your hand around his stiff cock. Placing his hand on yours, he means to remove your grasp, but his mind sends the wrong signal down his arm. Instead, he squeezes your grip tighter, moaning at the relief that shoots through him. Eyes closed in ecstasy, he pants out a useless, “S–Stop it.”

He can almost hear the smug smile in your voice. “I’ll stop once you let go of my hand…”

Ignoring your response, he keeps a pulsing rhythm of firm compression going—imitating the feel of your warm, tight walls around him. A vain attempt compared to the real thing—but what does he know about real? When his only point of reference is what unfolds behind closed eyes, in moments like these, he knows his mind is the last place to bear truth.

“Mm, but you’re not gonna, are you, daddy? You don’t want mommy to stop. You wanna play just as badly, I can feel it.”

The breathy, sultry tone of your voice has him heaving—shallow gasps of air bringing no relief in his search for oxygen.

“What are you doing?”

Falling back against his pillow with a shove of your hands, he watches you straddle his lap. Groaning at the sensation, he practically melts as you grind down onto him, your bare, slick pussy sliding along his throbbing length. Your brazen, annoyed tone from earlier comes back, reminding him this is all his fault. 

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” you bite. “Dating her, dreaming of me?” 

Eddie’s eyes roll back with a groan as you continue to drag your hips. The leaking head of his cock keeps catching your waiting entrance and it’s driving him up the wall. He’s so close to feeling you again, he’d do anything for it. The way your walls hug his thick length, the gush of your arousal every time you sink down onto him greedily—he’s so used to it now, he needs it like he needs air. But you won’t let him in. Not yet.

“Shamefully cleaning the sheets every morning. Pretending everything’s fine. Kissing her sweetly and bailing on dates in the next breath—all just to come hang out with little old imaginary me. You’re turning down your real girlfriend to go fuck a figment of your imagination, baby, and I’m what’s wrong?” 

Desperate, veiny hands grip the sheets beside his body, using every ounce of restraint to not grab you and pull you down onto his aching cock. “S–Sweetheart–”

You chuckle at his anguished voice, lining him up at your entrance, languid hips gyrating on his fat, ruddy tip. “Aht aht aht, be careful, Teddie. That ‘unwilling victim’ act is starting to slip,” you warn. “How will you justify such immoral actions then?”

You feel so real. The slick wetness seeping from your hole, drenching his cock, tosses him off the cliff of sanity, sending him barreling down, down, down into delusion. This is exactly how you’d feel in real life. It must be. You’re so…so wet. So warm. So tight. How could his mind conjure something so damningly sweet? Your greedy heat is a honey trap he’d gladly fall for—every single time. He’d bare his soul, reveal every last burning secret if you’d just allow him inside you—if you’d just relieve him of his fidelity.

“Bottom line?” You sink down on him fully, pussy swallowing him in one go. He watches the victorious look on your face as a loud, needy groan escapes him. Leaning down, lips hovering over desperate, panting ones, you grant him a quick peck. “This is all you, baby.”

“Please–” he breathes out—unsure what he’s begging for. Mercy? Movement? For you to stop your evil monologue long enough to let him go to hell—let him fuck you like he needs to? Probably the latter. But you’re not done with him yet—not ready to give in. 

“You know I’m sound asleep at my place. Probably dreaming of puppy dogs and little sheepies…” 

Eddie groans as you roll your hips experimentally, then slowly lift your core until just the tip remains inside. 

“Or maybe I’m not asleep.” Hips circling his tip again, your movements elicit a strangled whimper from deep within his throat. “...Maybe I’m with someone.” Slamming down on his hard cock, you drop so quickly the feeling of your walls fully encapsulating him again has his stomach jerking, another loud, scratchy groan tumbling past his lips. This time the groan is not just in pleasure, but annoyance too. He wants you to stop talking—needs you to. He doesn’t want to hear about you with someone else. 

“Stop,” he grits out, teeth bared as he struggles to maintain his calm demeanor. Both of his hands pull at the roots of his hair, desperately withholding any attempts to touch you. 

You lean down again, chest-to-chest as you drag your soft hands all over his body despite his refusal to do the same. Lifting your ass, you slide up and down his shaft—slowly, torturously. 

“You remember my crush on Steve in eighth grade?”

He grumbles as you toy with him—quickly losing his patience. 

“Maybe I’ve given him a chance,” you muse. “I mean, he’s only gotten more attractive with age. Plus, he’s all ‘good guy’ now.” 

Eddie can practically hear the teasing, wicked smile behind your whispered words. Your blasé attitude has him grinding his teeth, struggling not to let your—hopefully baseless—pondering get under his skin.

“Stop it.” 

He wants you to continue fucking yourself on his leaking cock, but he also wants you to leave his friend out of your dirty talk. The white-knuckled grip he’s got on his sanity is slipping with each word you let out, describing how you’re with Steve. Maybe. Maybe with him. And the ‘maybe’ is enough to drive a man mad. 

“Make me,” you challenge, your slow, languid pace keeping him hooked. 

“No, I’m not doing this again. This is wrong,” he tries, unhappy with being toyed with. Trying to convince himself to put a stop to this, the words are there, but the meaning is hollow. There’s no fire—no conviction—behind his demands. There’s barely any guilt, either. He finds himself just saying what should be said. 

Sitting up, you grab the hands that he’s been gnawing on—his hair no longer enough to stop the desperate need to touch you. Spreading his fingers, you guide rough palms up your abdomen, slowly bringing them to rest on your supple breasts.

You pout, cooing, “Oh, poor daddy. He’s all confused. You can touch me, baby, I’m here for you—use me.” 

Huffing out a frustrated breath, he shakes his head, but he leaves his hands where you placed them. “You’re not real.” 

Regretting the comment as soon as you perk up, he watches an excited grin spread across your face. His comment was meant to deter you and it seems to have reinvigorated you as you fuck yourself a little faster on him, moaning softly. 

“Exactly! That’s what’s great about me because if I were real, this would be wrong,” you lower your tone on the word, mocking his earlier sentiments. “You’d be a dirty cheater and do you think I’d wan’ a guy like that?” 

Your words swarm his mind with guilt, but it’s almost like his brain has tortured him so much that he’s come back around—no longer feeling shame in this moment. With a newly unburdened mind, he finally moves his hands, giving a groping squeeze to your breasts, tweaking the pert nipples, reveling in the moan you let out. You may not be you, but you sound exactly the same, and he’s never needed to cum so badly before. 

Breaking the trance your rolling hips put him in, he remembers you asked a question. “No.” 

He has the decency to sound ashamed, but he doesn’t feel it. He wouldn’t want you to be with a cheater. He doesn’t want to be a cheater for you. That’s the limit of his shame right now. You wouldn’t like him if he cheated, so he won’t. 

“You’re so sweet to worry about what I’d think…”

The pulsing of your warm heat, the soft, smooth skin on your chest—he’s so close to pure, fiery ecstasy. He’s nearly there, all he needs is for your wet cunt to continue gripping him like a daydream. One roll of your hips away from tipping over the edge, his stomach tightens at your words.

“But what would your girlfriend think?”

Sucking in a harsh breath, his eyes snap open. He’s exactly where he just was, but now his face is buried in strawberry-scented blonde hair. Chest moving with ragged breaths, he feels a small body in his arms. The sensation is almost unfamiliar. Almost. 

He’s held her so many times since they started dating, but he’s held you more. The sleepovers, the movie nights, the time he consoled you when Joey Humphry stood you up in tenth grade. He would know your body blindfolded and this is not you. The sharp corners and soft curves are not right.

Eddie is pulled from his consuming thoughts when he feels pressure on his erection. Moving his hips back away, he realizes Chrissy is awake and making a move. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. He usually wakes up with ‘morning wood’ and even sometimes in the middle of the night—like tonight. 

In the honeymoon stage of their relationship, when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, they’d get up to no good during the wee hours of the morning. Messy kisses and wandering hands satisfying hormonal needs. 

It’s been a while since he’s been intimate with Chrissy, the honeymoon stage long since over, and the dreams keeping him busy and guilt-ridden. So when her hips follow his retreating pelvis, he cringes at the thought of the pressure not being the right kind—not the right hips, not the right ass, not the right girl. 

He tries to wipe that thought out of his mind like windshield wipers on a car, but it sticks—like a squashed bug that won’t wash away. Giggles pierce through the silence of the dark room—not the right giggles—as she turns around to face him. 

“Let me help you, Eds. ‘S been a while.” Her sultry voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard after such a dream—your moans playing like a hymn as he worshipped at your altar.

Gulping, he tries to back up again, avoiding her reaching hand. “No, it’s–it’s okay. Let’s just go back to sleep.”

Wandering hands run down his abdomen—not the right hands—closing in on the waistband of his underwear. “Baby, I can help you. Just wanna be close to you.”

Guilt overcomes his body and mind at her words. Not only has he not been intimate with his girlfriend in a month, but he’s blown off a few dates to sleep. He tried to tell himself it was because he keeps waking up so tired, constantly trying to avoid you in his mind. But that’s not the truth. 

He’s slowly succumbing to the siren in his mind, the woman who calls to him in his dreams. The girl he’s known forever needs him when he’s asleep and he’s always wanted to feel needed. 

This sleepover was supposed to be a compromise. He was supposed to hold her properly—like a boyfriend should. He was supposed to surround her with necessary affection and, maybe, if he could, guide that affection naturally into something more explicit. Make up for lost time.

But now he’s starting to think it’s not just you he needs to avoid—at least until he’s better. If you're going to permeate his waking mind, tainting every interaction with the woman he’s supposed to love, then he needs to step back and reconsider how best to burn you out of his head.

He’s already had to pull out of group get-togethers, the barrier of Steve and Robin no longer sufficient—not with the way his brain picks up a new quirk of yours every time he sees you, perfectly implementing it into his dreams with practiced ease.

A small, soft hand wraps around his cock, but it brings no relief. It’s not what he needs. 

Eddie’s thoughts are interrupted by her confused voice.

“Wha–you were just hard. I felt it.” Her hand squeezes his now flaccid penis. He’s as surprised as her. When he woke up a minute ago, he was on the verge of cumming in his underwear. And now he can’t get it up as his girlfriend tries to provide stimulation to his usually sensitive cock. 

Cringing at the way she sounds almost upset at the sudden disappearance of his erection, he gulps. “I’m sorry. I–I don’t know what happened, we–we can just go back to sleep.”

He can tell she’s trying so hard not to take it personally as she mumbles out a quiet, “Okay,” and turns back around—notably leaving a gap between two bodies. 

Staring at the ceiling, terrified of when sleep takes him, Eddie realizes he needs to try harder. He needs to fix this; he can’t keep going on like this. Something’s got to give, and he’s afraid to find out what.

When Eddie runs into you at Bradley’s Big Buy the next day, he nearly jumps out of his skin. You’re turning the corner with a shopping cart and he’s already been discovered as he crashes right into the front of the basket. It doesn’t help that he was just thinking about you—about how you felt last night, about what you said. 

“Oh my god! Eddie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“No–uh, th–that was my bad. I wasn’t…paying attention. Sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck, eyes darting around at all the other shoppers. Nobody’s batting an eye at the interaction, meanwhile this is his worst fear coming to fruition—you’re here looking at him, he can’t run away, and you look just like you did last night in his bed dream. 

He hates how awkward this interaction is—your shifting eyes, his stuttering formalities. You two have been friends since childhood, he shouldn’t be fumbling over every other word. It’s even worse because you seem resigned to the fact that he’s been avoiding you as you try to end the moment early. 

“Yeah, um–anyway, I should…go.” Maneuvering your cart around the blockade his body creates, you don’t get very far when his hurried question stops you. 

“Are you seeing someone?” 

Eddie’s suddenly craving the taste of gunpowder on his tongue when he hears what the hell just came out of his mouth. Your body goes rigid at the question—something that wouldn’t happen if he wasn’t actively pushing you away. Usually you’d tell each other everything, but that kind of honesty is reserved for best friends—something you’re not, apparently. 

He knows why he asked it. He knows the exact demon on his shoulder who whispered it to him just now—the one that looks eerily similar to you. Maybe I’m with someone. 

Wincing at the way you turn around, frown on your face, hurt and confusion flashing across your eyes, he watches as you consider him. It feels like hours before you respond. Like pristine windows into your soul, your eyes say so much—and nothing at all. He can’t even begin to translate them.

“Was trying to,” you sigh. Your defeated shrug and the plain answer shatters like glass in his ears—a sound he imagines a freeze-dried heart would make if slammed against the ground. “But I realized I’ve got some stuff to work through first. Things to get over.” You mutter the last part, avoiding his prying eyes. 

Eddie opens his mouth to probe for more information, your axis-tilting answer not enough to satiate his morbid curiosity—god forbid Dream You be correct about something. But before he can get a word out, you’re already bidding him a cryptic goodbye and practically fleeing the scene.

“See you tomorrow, Eds.” 

The familiar nickname evokes a sort of stabbing pain in his heart and he’s acutely aware of your thinly veiled dismissal as you flee the scene—you’d rather be anywhere but here, answering his strange questions. Watching your retreating figure, he can’t help but feel he should be the one running. It’s worse that it’s you who does it. It only reminds him that all of his actions of the past few weeks have actual repercussions—he can’t just ignore you in real life and be held by you inside his mind. 

A million thoughts fly through his head, one that continues to stick is the question of who you were trying to see. Nausea fills him at the chance that it could be Steve, just like you said. No, not you. 

His dream. 

Him. 

His mind. 

Correction: Just like what he dreamed you said. 

Though, it’s easier for him to pretend it’s really you saying these things, because he’d like to think he wouldn’t imagine such awful truths—if they could even be labeled as such. He’d also like to think he wouldn’t purposefully dream of cheating on his girlfriend, but the writing is on the wall. 

So dream or not—can he even trust a word you say when you’re on top of him? His insecurities scream yes, but the sliver of logic he’s been holding onto lately quietly tells him no.

The other thought that is sticking sends a chill down Eddie’s spine. Tomorrow. He forgot about tomorrow. He forgot he agreed to game night a month ago—a meager attempt to pretend he hasn’t been ditching plans. Now, the date has arrived, and he’s in the midst of avoiding you. He’s going to have to show up at Steve’s place, act as if he doesn’t feel a burning disdain for the guy based on conjecture from a dream, and exist in your presence for longer than five minutes. With no ability to cancel last minute, he hopes tomorrow never comes. Maybe if he wishes hard enough, the planet will get swallowed into a black hole and he’ll evade you once again.

Unfortunately, there were no world-ending emergencies today, so Eddie sits quietly on Steve’s couch, watching as you, Robin, and Steve gather around the coffee table to play Monopoly, all of you seated on the floor. He tried his best to give the world all the extra time it needed to end, even circling the block a few times before finally arriving at Steve’s door—forty-five minutes late. 

He can’t tell if it was his tardiness or his awful behavior lately—but you barely acknowledged his existence. Which, of course, made him feel worse. For some narcissistic reason, he finds himself capable of dealing with the fallout if he doesn’t have to…deal with it. When he first flaked out on Friday movie nights, he only had to hear you speak about it briefly at the Hideout. Then he didn’t hear anything else about it, not having to meet you face-to-face and turn you away at his door.

Now it’s you turning him away—directly to his face, and without so much as a word from him. He’s not even trying to talk, not handing you any easy reason to push him away, but you do it anyway—just like he’s been doing to you. 

You’re simply icing him out, ignoring his presence in the room. It doesn’t feel like you—it feels like high school. Like he could stand up on the lunch table, ranting about conformity and the stratified social food chain, and no one would give a fuck whether he lived or died, so long as it was entertaining. Although, even then, he’d get at least one quick glance.

But you offer him no such courtesy—and he knows he deserves it. So he sits there, watching, frozen out by your disinterest, wounded by your clear discomfort at being so close to him. At least he has a whole world in his head to retreat to. Though, last night’s dream was particularly unnerving. 

The things you said made his head spin—had him rethinking every moment he’s ever spent with you. Your harsh truths and revelations unlocked vaults in his mind he thought were securely locked and sunk deep in the ocean of his idle thoughts.

“I know why you asked if I’m seeing someone. I see the way you look at me…”

Like a lioness hunting, you approached him slowly. Your piercing gaze elicited a concerning amount of trepidation in his shaking body. He sat anxiously on his worn-down couch, the low lamplight of the trailer casting daunting shadows over your face. Your words struck fear in his heart—did you really know? Eddie’s wide eyes watched as your delicate fingers crept up his thighs, the muscles twitching wantonly.

“Does it make you jealous, baby? Does it make you feel prickly all over?” 

He sucked in a harsh breath as you danced the tips of your fingers across his upper thighs, coming dangerously close to his hardening cock. He felt prickly, but not with jealousy. Not at that moment. 

“You don’t wanna share your shiny new toy?” 

The questioning tilt of your head made him squeeze his eyes shut. He couldn’t look at you when you were like this—no matter how much he wanted to. Though, you didn’t let him hide for long. Your warm palm pressed into his bulge, causing his eyes to shoot open, instantly meeting yours. 

“No, that’s right…” you muttered, as if he had corrected you—despite his mouth being pressed tightly shut, willing any betraying sound to stay buried in his throat. “I’m not new. You’ve thought about it before.”

The raw warmth of your soft hand drew his attention. He looked down, helplessly watching as you granted slow, languid strokes to his now-leaking cock. A stuttering groan tumbled past his lips, brows drawn in desperation for just a little more. 

“You remember? Prom night? When I changed in your room, and you strategically positioned yourself right in front of the mirror?” You chuckled, recounting the memory, ridiculing the perversions of a young man. “Just dying to get a peek at me—your unassuming best friend. Naughty boy, Eds… Using a poor girl like that...” Shaking your head, you admonished him with a slow, mocking tsk, tsk, tsk.

The strained whimper that tore from his throat made your head tilt, eyes raking over his pitiful form before you seemingly decided he’d given enough of himself to earn a secret. “You know I changed right there for you. I wanted you to look—wanted you to touch yourself to the thought of me…”

Eddie’s head lolled back against the couch, groaning as you whispered in his ear, your deft fingers squeezing him so well. Your thumb brushed his leaking slit, drawing more precum out, earning another drawn groan as he succumbed to your touch. 

“Have you ever touched yourself to the thought of Chrissy?” 

The name was like a bucket of ice water, pulling his attention back to you in a split second. “D–Don’t say her name,” he grumbled, unintentionally bucking his hips at the responding squeeze you gave. 

“Oh, no… No, because talking about her would be bad…” a particularly mind-numbing twist of your wrist caused another involuntary reaction—his hips haphazardly thrusting into your slick palm. “You might hurt her…”

Regretfully, that hadn’t been the reason he didn’t want you to say her name. He hadn’t wanted to explore the real reason, but he needed you to know that specific string of letters was off-limits. “Don’t wanna think about ‘er.”

Puffs of air glided across his parted mouth. He felt trapped in your gravitational pull, lips aching to rest on yours. But you weren’t done—you seemed to take great pleasure in branding the truth into him, relishing the scent of his smoldering moral shortcomings.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you? The guilt doesn’t feel very good, huh, baby?” Your sympathetic pout mocked him, filling his mind with hot, sticky shame, gluing him to his place as you spoke.

He whimpered in response, your slick fingers circling his cockhead, constricting the fat, ruddy tip. He felt your next words before he heard them—rhythmic growls against his panting mouth, charming him like a snake in a basket.

“Gnawing, festering, bubbling…corroding that sweet heart of yours, isn’t it? Bad boy,” you hissed, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth. 

Clearly frustrated by his lack of response—his refusal to play your games—you gave his throbbing cock another harsh squeeze, making him jerk forward with a mewling whine, his forehead pressed to yours as he breathed through the burning desire.

Your saccharine tone bit at his heart and mind, taking chunks out of him—his will, his shame, his hunger, his sanity. “This isn’t a spectator sport, dearest,” you taunted.

Pleading eyes watched your gritted teeth as he tried to come up with any intelligible response, despite your hand teasing him—granting just enough pleasure to make him need more. 

Eddie nodded his head against yours, swallowing the lump in his throat as he forced his feelings to the forefront. “Mhm, s’killing me, it’s–”

Your lips had soothed his hurried pants, pressing a chaste kiss to his pleasure-bitten mouth. The sweetness hadn’t lasted long, though—just enough to leave him wanting more, the way you always did.

“Or, maybe…you don’t wanna think about her because it’s not…arousing?” 

He choked on his breath when your warm, wet hand traveled down, down, down, cupping his swollen, sensitive sac. 

“Doesn’t do it for you, huh, baby?” 

Now he’s stuck watching his friends have fun, feeling like an outsider—as if you’ve pulled him to the dark side and don’t even know it. He has to hear you laugh, knowing he hasn’t been the cause of it in what feels like forever. He has to sit with the words you spoke to him, the revelations uncovered, the secrets thrust into daylight—shameful truths forced to be considered.

Every new dream is like a plague upon his sovereign lands. He was resolute before you shook him to his core, dismantling every belief he’s held since he met you. You didn’t even do anything. Nothing changed, nothing happened—then one day, he was cursed with the hope that you felt something.

No.

Not hope.

Worry.

A worry you felt something he had sorely missed. 

No.

Not sorely.

But that is it, isn’t it?

His mind fed him a scenario he only ever dreamed of when he was a hormonal teenager—a scenario he hadn’t thought of since. Then all of a sudden there was a possibility. A possibility in his heart. Wishful thinking, really. 

Shame, shame, shame. 

Wishful thinking to feel much guilt over. 

But his rotten mind and decaying heart seem to have gotten the better of him, because he struggles to feel guilt now. He struggles to remind himself of the pretty blonde girl yearning to spend time with him. It's only during the darkest nights he’s spent with you that he allows the creeping thought to take root—small, delicate roots like a lima bean surrounded by a wet paper towel in a plastic cup on the windowsill, a childish experiment—but digging into his mind nonetheless: he should break up with her.

The thought doesn’t last long—much like your sweetness in his dreams.

The moment he wakes up, he’s confronted with the lunacy of breaking up with his long-term girlfriend based on the sheer, unsubstantiated hope that his best friend might ever feel something for him—something he wouldn’t even know what to do with if he were given the chance.

Your words and actions in his head aren’t the same as your words and actions in reality. There’s a reason he ended up with Chrissy after prom—and not you.

That line of thinking always devolves into one clear point: he’s got a sickness of the mind—but it’s not permanent. It can’t be. He can become the good boyfriend he once was—the loving partner. Because you don’t love him in that way, and he knows that. He has something real with Chrissy. You’re not real—not the you he wants.

And yet, despite it all, he’d sleep forever just to feel your touch. 

Eddie’s dissociative state shatters when you turn around, kind eyes settling on him and a warm palm shaking his knee. 

Startled, his heavy eyes blink open as he realizes he’s fallen asleep—he wasn’t just thinking; his mind had painted the exact scenario, letting him stare at your back, watch your effervescent smile as you turned around, and remain entranced while sorting through the detritus of his thoughts.

It’s starting to get scarier—the way his mind creates vivid scenarios, passing them off as memories, and now, even as the present. But he’s grateful to be awake now, especially by your soft touch—something he’s been yearning for. Maybe through this crack in your walls, he can endear himself to you again, earn the affection he’s been entitled to for nearly two decades.

Eddie’s wide eyes dart from your hopeful gaze to Steve and Robin, both lazily wiping the board of any tokens and sorting the colorful money into organized piles while they look at him. He realizes you must have said something, given the way everyone seems to be waiting for him expectantly.

“Uh, w–what?”

“I said, ‘Do you wanna play?’” you repeat, a hint of amusement in your voice—he must look as dumb as he feels. “We’re starting a new game.”

A small look of realization passes over his features, his mouth parting slightly before he shakes his head, holding a placating hand out in front of him. “Oh, uh, n–no…thanks. I think I’ll just watch.”

At his answer, Robin slides the tokens back into place on the ‘Start’ tile, returning everyone’s original game pieces. You shrug, seemingly accepting his answer, and begin dishing out the money—two $500 bills, two $100 bills, and two $50 bills.

“You do like to do that,” you say breezily, earning a chuckle from Steve.

Confused at what that’s supposed to mean, Eddie frowns at you, your back to him as you continue sorting the money. “What?”

You glance over your shoulder, pinning him to the couch with a heavy-lidded gaze and sugared drawl. “I’m just saying—I know you like to watch me, baby.”

“Eddie!” 

Jumping at the loud shout and the kick to his leg, Eddie’s eyes shoot open as his body jerks into the couch, moving further away from you, despite your still form on the ground by the coffee table.

Frustrated impatience shifts to concern on your face. “Dude, are you okay?”

An incredulous frown overtakes his features as he glances between your worried eyes and the matching apprehension on Steve and Robin’s faces. Whipping his head back to you, his brain aches, struggling to piece together what the hell is happening. He’s losing his grip on reality—but this moment feels more real, despite his conviction that the last five minutes were real too. He needs to get out of here.

When he doesn’t respond, you tilt your head, agitation furrowing your brow. “You’ve been out for the last half hour. Are you okay?”

Your repetitive concern finally jolts Eddie into action, he mumbles a quick, “Yeah, ‘m fine,” before grabbing his jacket and rushing out of the apartment.

Robin eyes his fleeing figure, sitting in shocked silence as the door slams shut. “Okay, did he seem a little–”

“Barely lucid?” Steve finishes, frowning at the exit Eddie just disappeared through.

“I was gonna say ‘under the weather,’ but yeah, that.”

He shoots you a questioning glance. “What’s going on with him? He’s been weirder than usual lately.”

“And he’s giving Sleeping Beauty a run for her money,” Robin quips, earning a snort from Steve, who scoops up the dice and gives them a shake, opting to continue despite Eddie’s blaze of retreat.

“I don’t know, but I’m just about over it… I feel like I should go after him.”

Robin watches you spare an uneasy glance at the closed door, as if you had X-ray vision and could see through it to figure out where Eddie had fled. She shrugs, taking $100 from a disgruntled Steve, playing the role of both the bank and her own token.

“Eh, leave it. At least until we finish this game. I wanna bankrupt dingus here.” You laugh as she cocks her head toward a now-affronted Steve. “Plus, it’ll give him a chance to make up another dumb excuse. Lord knows he’s been abusing that arsenal lately,” she sardonically mutters.

Eddie runs around his dimly lit trailer searching for his wallet, wet curls soaking the collar of his faded band tee. He could’ve sworn he had it on his person before he stripped down for a shower, now the stupid thing is nowhere to be seen. 

You always used to tell him his wallet chain was pointless if he didn’t consistently reattach the folded leather when changing pants—and he’s eating your words now. Just another reason to love you: you’re always right, both to his fortune and, sometimes, his chagrin. Right now, it’s the latter, because you’re not here to help him search. If you were, you’d annoyingly find it in the first place he looked—making him seem like an incapable idiot. He needs you.

When he catches sight of the radioactive green time glowing on the microwave—over two hours since he fled Steve’s place—he curses his past self for being so careless with his belongings. He’s late, and this is something he cannot afford to be late for.

After turning out the pockets of every pair of jeans in his overflowing laundry basket, he moves on to the stacks of papers scattered around his messy room. Your voice rings in his head—past admonitions from previous years bouncing back and forth like ping-pong balls of nagging truth—as he sorts through the pigsty he lives in.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie, please clean your room—at least once in your life.” No, he likes it like this. It has to feel like a cave, so he can dwell.

“Seriously, Eds? Do you really need three copies of the June Playboy?” Yes, she looks like you—her similar features send butterflies fluttering through his stomach.

“Eddie, just say the word and I’ll go to that new Office Depot store and get you a ringed binder for all this loose-leaf—I’m not kidding, I’ll literally go right now if you just promise to organize this shit.” Silence.

A short but firm knock on the front door drags him out of his zone. An impatient groan slips from his lips as he straightens up, taking a quick glance around his room and noting which areas he’s already searched. The knock repeats as he continues to ignore it and wonders whether he might’ve accidentally tossed his wallet into the drawers of his nightstand—though that wouldn’t make much sense, since that space is usually reserved for things he wants to hide. Things like every polaroid he once had of you on display, a fruitless attempt to curb the dreams by removing any source material. At the third round of knocking, rage courses through him—doesn’t whoever’s out there understand that he’s late?

“Hold on! I’m coming, Jesus H. Christ!”

Barreling down the narrow hallway, Eddie whips open the door, only to be met with the one person he was running late for—standing there on his front stoop with her fist raised. Wide eyes meet wide eyes as he catches you off guard with his violent door swing. 

All anger melts from his body, replaced by a spark of hope as he watches you glance at the small gap between his body and the doorframe. You seem to decide it’s worth the risk, squeezing through the space, ignoring his refusal to make room for you and the way his gaze burns into the side of your face as you brush past him—his yearning eyes following your every movement. 

He didn’t mean to make you have to nearly shove him out of the way to get through—though he doesn’t quite want to admit it was because he wanted to feel you close to him either.

He can tell you’re extremely uncomfortable as you turn around, meeting his rapt attention in the middle of his messy living room. Déjà vu hits him like a comforting memory as he takes you in—your stiff posture and fidgeting fingers don’t deter the longing in his wet eyes. Unable to conjure the first sentence, he’s relieved when you beat him to it. Though, the relief is short-lived when your voice comes out strained and firm—eliciting an anxiety that only strikes when he knows he’s about to get in trouble.

Your hands are held out in front of you, warning him not to move—commanding him to just stand there and take what you have to give. “Don’t say anything. Just let me speak–”

Never one to behave—Eddie hurriedly cuts you off. 

“I can’t find my wallet.”

Your next words seem to die on your tongue as your brows pinch in confusion at his seemingly random comment. He watches as your eyes momentarily shift off of him, scanning the space around him. Then, opting to take a better look, you turn your head, taking in the torn-up state of his trailer.

The confusion lingers, quickly joined by shock. He can tell you understand now—his words weren’t just a comment on his current mess. You’ve always been able to discern his shy, pitiful requests—the quiet pleas for help he never wanted to voice.

After one hesitant glance in his direction, you sigh and take slow, measured steps toward the kitchen, eyes roving in search of the worn leather pad. Eddie’s meek demeanor shifts, though, when you curiously lift a tipped-over cereal box to reveal his wallet. You pick up the small item, turning to face him and holding it up next to your head.

His shoulders drop as he takes in your incredulous look—your lips pressed into a line, head tilted in that familiar, obnoxious way. He can already hear the lecture forming in your mind—the reminder that his wallet chain is pointless if he doesn’t use it.

An indignant expression takes over his face, jaw dropping at your uncanny ability to make him look like an idiot—it’s practically a superpower at this point. “What the fuck?”

If you asked, he’d swear up, down, and sideways that he already checked the kitchen counter. But apparently, the universe favors you. It makes sense, considering what an awful person he’s been these past couple of weeks.

You don’t ask, though. Instead, you just toss him the wallet, forcing him to scramble to catch it before you continue with your impending speech.

“Okay, now don’t speak. I have something I need to say to you.” You hesitate, Eddie’s assuming you’re making sure he stays silent this time—so he does.

“I don’t know what I did to…piss you off—god, I don’t even know if that’s it. I don’t know what emotion I elicit in you because you’ve well and truly iced me out, here.”

Your frustration is clear, and he has to fight the urge to defend himself as he watches you throw your arms out in exasperation, humorless amusement overtaking your face. Though, he doesn’t even know what he’d say in his defense. There is no defense—anything he came up with would be a lie or an excuse. He can’t claim he’s been busy, since he’s been conveniently un-busy for group hangouts—at least until he had to stop those too. And he definitely can’t say he hasn’t been avoiding you—because he has. So, he just lets you continue.

“I mean, seriously, Eddie—you haven’t been this stupid since whatever the hell happened on prom night.”

The mention of that night—the one he tries so hard to block out, all poor timing and failed attempts—makes his stomach churn, especially coming from you. He hadn’t realized you even noticed something was off afterward. He thought he’d masked his feelings well. Apparently not. Thankfully, you don’t linger on the memory, opting instead to play hardball.

“So I’m here now,” you say, and he gulps at the way you seem to batten down the hatches—planting your feet firmly on his carpet, crossing your arms defiantly over your chest, emphasizing your frustration. “And I’m not letting you shut me out any longer. You’re going to tell me everything right now or I’ll... I’ll tell Wayne you’re being mean to me.”

Having been waiting with bated breath for the end of your threat, Eddie lets out an amused huff. Your childish tone brings him back to a decade ago. Of course your go-to ultimatum is to sic his uncle on him—you’re so damn cute when you try to be intimidating. It’s not an empty threat either; he just feared you’d say something worse. Like you’d never speak to him again, or maybe that you’re tired of his wishy-washy friendship and you’ve moved on with Steve. The thought alone leaves an acidic taste on his tongue.

Come to think of it though, Wayne might be worse. That old man loves you through and through—he’d absolutely tear Eddie a new one if you actually told him how cold your supposed best friend has been. His uncle always did seem to like you more than him anyway, always picking your side in those childish fights years ago. Eventually, Eddie stopped relying on Wayne as a mediator—the no-bullshit man would just hit him with a gruff, “I don’t know what you did, but you definitely did it. Apologize to ‘er.” So he’s inclined to yield to your threat.

Tell you everything?

Where does he even start? 

First off, glad to see you, sweetheart, was just comin’ to find you. Second off, I left game night to go break up with my girlfriend because I couldn't stop having sex dreams about you. I know, crazy, right? Funny enough, they weren’t just sex dreams—they were things I thought I’d buried a long time ago. Wishes, wants...whatever. Just stuff I told myself I didn’t feel anymore. Ha! Get a load of this guy, huh? Sentimental bullshit—love so damning it’s turning me into a bleeding-heart poet or some shit.

See, I tried to hold them off for as long as I could—tried convincing myself it was a phase. But I don’t think this kind of love is a phase. Unfortunately.

And yeah, I said love. 

It’s not perversion. I know what perversion is. I’ve dealt with it. I’ve stared too long in the mirror while you changed behind me. I’ve stolen a peek or two down your top when you cleaned my room that one time—I know perversion.

This isn’t that.

Perversion doesn’t fester and corrode the way love does.

And I know you don’t love me back, and that’s fine. I can live with that. Or—I’ll try to.

But I can’t keep living with you in my head. I’m losin’ it here, sweetheart.

When I broke up with Chrissy, she asked if there was someone else. Probably because of how much of a dick I’ve been—avoiding her, and not to mention, you. But I couldn’t answer her question, because…yes.

No.

There is, but there’s not.

It’s not your fault. You’re not doing this to me. You’re not actually in my bed every night, whispering all the things I wanna hear.

You’re not tempting a taken man—you’d never. I know that.

I’ve placed you on this pedestal in my subconscious—something you never asked for.

I’ve prayed to you in idle worship. But now, I’m asking you to put me out of my misery.

Hear my plea. Absolve me of my sins—

So I can continue to live in your shadow. Happily. 

Alone. 

With you. 

Happily.

But that’s a bit much and just a tad crazy. He’s spiraling, sure. But you don’t need to know that. So Eddie starts simple.

“We broke up.” 

He can tell you’re taken off guard by his admission. You’re probably floundering for context, considering Chrissy was still somewhat part of the group—at least up until a bit ago.

Your brows furrow sympathetically, and he can feel your frustration melting—the tension in the air fizzling out. That inherent need to console overtakes any prior feelings.

“What? Oh my god, Eddie, I’m so sorry. You were into her for like…years, right? That’s awful.”

The reminder of his stupid schoolboy crush makes his skin crawl. It’s like a swarm of ants under his skin, crawling up his arms, his neck—itching with the memory of someone he no longer is.

That version of him—wide-eyed, hopeful, convinced longing was the same thing as love—feels like a ghost. A haunting echo of an almost-man, displaced from time and reality. Cursed to float through his mind like 2 a.m. regret. Sure, the crush led to a formative relationship. Two years. But those two years didn’t validate the fantasy. They dismantled it. 

Because through Chrissy, he finally saw it. He saw you.

And now, the girl he’s always wanted—but never let himself want—is standing in front of him, trying to console him over someone he no longer aches for. 

His bleeding heart doesn’t beat for her anymore.

If he had any shame left, he would feel like a horrible person for moving on so quickly. But he’s fresh out of shame. You drained every last drop from him with your whispered sighs and rocking hips. You’ve permanently changed the chemistry of his brain with every sweet, imaginary kiss to his greedy lips, every teasing quip about his confusing feelings over the years. He doesn’t struggle with the end of his long-term relationship because he never adjusted to it not being with you. He realizes that now. 

You’re ingrained in his DNA at this point—a golden thread weaving magic through every atom that makes up his being. He understands now, with perfect clarity, that you were always his. You’re supposed to be his.

So he’s sure the cosmic forces can forgive a love that was written on the wall the moment you shared your Goldfish crackers with him at five years old.

A stone-carved devotion, so tried and true, it manifested entire fantasy worlds where you were surely his.

Choosing not to respond to your ill-timed sympathy, Eddie’s eyes dart away from yours, restless, sweaty palms rub against his black jeans. 

“What happened?”

He curses his lack of response. Maybe if he had been proactive about his storytelling, he wouldn’t have to look you right in the eyes and tell you the truth. Maybe he could tell you a sliver of the truth. Maybe that would be enough.

Although, knowing you, it wouldn’t be. 

“I broke up with her,” he mumbles, barely maintaining eye contact when you shoot him a shocked look—clearly taken aback by the fact that he wasn’t the dumpee. 

“Why the hell would you do that? I mean…I thought you really liked her. And she was sweet. ” 

He winces at your initial outburst, but it’s your last statement that imbues him with unearned confidence. 

“Not like you,” he mutters with a slight shrug, voice low and resigned.

You shake your head as if trying to knock loose some semblance of understanding, eyeing him carefully like you’re trying to peer into the right spot, earning a momentary glance inside his mind. His words are too confusing, you need the source material. 

“What are you talking about? She was, like, perfect for you.”

Eddie doesn’t know why you’re trying to rewrite the story. Why you’re pushing this version where he and Chrissy made sense. They didn’t. Not really. Not like you and him. You know each other—every weird, wonderful part. That’s always been enough.

“She wasn’t you.”

Frustration ripples through you again, tension crackling in the air. He realizes he’s not exactly being forthcoming—with his feelings, or whatever it is he’s trying to say. He’s never been Mr. Exposition Guy, but something’s happening to him, something that keeps him from spitting it out—and it’s pissing you off. He can tell.

It’s like he’s trained his whole life for a marathon. Months of running it, mile after mile, pacing himself, pushing through the exhaustion, waiting for the end to come into view. And now that it has—now that he can see the finish line—his legs feel like they’re about to give out. Fatigued from the journey, he’s unsure if he can make it. Everything he’s ever trained for is right there in front of him, and now his body won’t cooperate. His words won’t come.

The daunting realization that this is it—that this is his chance to convey how detrimental and beautifully significant you’ve been to his mind, his life, his heart—has him stumbling. And the consequences of this confession, of his actions, rage through his mind like a category five hurricane.

Which he finds—humorlessly—kind of funny.

You’d be the one to bring a storm like that.

His hericane.

There’s a battle raging inside him. One side is certain that telling you the truth won’t change a thing—you’ll let him down easy, things will be weird for a while, and then you’ll both pretend it never happened, slipping right back into best-friend territory. The other side is cataloging every fidget, every flicker of raw emotion in your gaze, and whispering that only someone with something to hide acts like that.

Maybe your something is like his. Maybe if he shows you his, you’ll show him yours. Maybe, in your confusion, you’re trying to push him away. Maybe you think you’re taking him from Chrissy. He knows you’d hate to be the other woman, and he never meant to place you in that role. 

“Say, you didn’t happen to get really drunk and take copious amounts of drugs, did you?” 

You’re trying to pass your question off as a joke, but Eddie hears the bite behind it. He’s known that tone for years—knows it even better now, after hearing it echo through his dreams.

Shaking his head, he holds up three fingers on his right hand, giving you the Scout’s honor—despite never having been one. “Stone cold sober, sweetheart.”

A scoff leaves your smiling lips, you shake your head, incredulous. Heading over to the kitchen, you start cleaning up the mess Eddie made in his search for his wallet—your hands just needing something to do. 

He eyes you carefully, watching the way your movements are harsh and unrestrained as you close cabinets, crumple scrap papers, and pick up tipped-over cereal boxes. Despite his own inability to be straight with you, he finds himself getting frustrated at the way you refuse to believe him. He’s your best friend—he thinks he deserves the benefit of the doubt. Then again, he may have squandered all the goodwill he’s earned with you over the past few months.

Without looking up at him, you cup your hand to scoop the fallen cereal off the counter and into your other, waiting hand as you dismiss him again. “Okay, maybe the lack of sleep really is getting to you.”

Quick to shut that theory down, Eddie steps closer, squaring off with you across the counter. You still won’t look at him, focused instead on sweeping the rest of the cereal into the trash.

“Nah,” he says, quieter now, more certain. “I’ve never slept better in my life.”

And it’s not a complete lie.

There was a time the dreams drained him—left him wrung-out and raw, waking more tired than when he went to bed. But something shifted. Once he accepted that you weren’t leaving his mind until he did something about it—until he made a choice, ended what needed ending, and faced the truth—he found you again in those dreams.

And this time, you weren’t a ghost weighed down by the chains of his guilt—like some specter he’d cursed to carry the burden of his indecision.

You were a promise.

Permission to rest.

The confidence of his declaration seems to piss you off because you finally stop what you’re doing, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Then, Eddie, what the hell are you talking about?” 

Fuck it.

“I broke up with her for you,” he admits, imploring—wide, brown eyes wet with desperation, painted in truth.

You blanch at his words, eyeing him in horror. “I didn’t ask you to do that! You’ve wanted her since, like, forever. Why would you break up with someone you chased for years?” you shout.

Eddie’s heart pounds—you still don’t get it. Every second you don’t see it feels like you’re slipping further away.

“Because I’ve wanted you longer,” he says, the truth falling from his lips like it’s always been there.

The look of horror melts off your face, replaced by quiet calculation as you puzzle out what this new admission means. Eager to help you solve it, he continues. 

“Tell me you haven’t thought about it. Tell me…you never looked at me any other way than a friend, and I’ll never bring this up again.” 

Blood rushes in his ears as he stuns you into silence. If you say the words—if you reject him—he’ll go. He’ll be better. He’ll bury this thing between you and pretend it never existed. Not for himself, but for you. And it won’t be your fault. It never was.

“You can leave, I’ll try to stop these feelings, we’ll pretend nothing ever happened, and I’ll eventually be cured of this…thing.”

Disgust taints the word—thing—as he lays himself bare for you. Not disgust for you, but for the word itself, for the pitiful inadequacy of it. For the feelings he can’t name, for how he’s handled them, who he’s hurt in the process, and how long it took him to see them clearly.

His frustration is evident as he claws his way through the desperate, heart-felt pleas to you. Met with silence, a conniving, rotted kind of hope spreads through his veins like a viral infection. He can’t pin down one emotion in your shocked eyes—all he sees is a storm of confusion, surprise, petulance, and something else he won’t dare to name. 

The quiet of the trailer suffocates him—you won’t tell him no, but you’re not telling him yes. And the unfortunate truth is he’d let you string him along forever if you’d give him the bare minimum. If you chose not to answer him on this day, he’d take that crumb of hope and cut it up into a million little pieces to feast on from now until eternity. And that would be enough—just to be with you in any capacity.

But first, he has to push a little harder. He’s selfish that way.

The desperation in his tone multiplies tenfold as he tries again. The emotional turmoil of weeks upon weeks of you living in his head—showing him what he could have—is bubbling over, giving way to humorless amusement that makes him appear as if he’s gone mad. Festering, gnawing, corroding—just like you said. 

He gazes at your still form with rapt attention, hungry eyes devouring every minute movement you make. With a mad sort of tilt to his head, he leans over the counter slightly, attempting to close the distance despite the barrier.

“Please, just–just tell me. Put me out of my misery, ‘cause I can’t stand another second of dreaming about you and then seeing you like this–like none of it ever happened. Like you don’t know all the things we’ve done, all the ways I’ve held you.” 

“All the…” His voice falters, barely above a whisper. “All the ways I’ve loved you.”

You recoil, taking a step back, like his words were a blow you weren’t prepared for. He wants to scream at the way you break eye contact, the way you shut him down without a word. He’s trying his hardest to be clear, and you’re keeping him at arm’s length—or really, a kitchen counter’s length. 

“Eddie, you sound crazy,” you mutter, shaking your head and folding yourself into the comfort of your own arms.

“Maybe!” he shouts, threading his hands through the roots of his curls in exasperation. He’s going to have to spell it out for you. “Maybe I am crazy!” A humorless chuckle leaves his lips as he shakes his head, eyeing your questioning gaze. “I can’t go a night without dreaming about you—maybe that’s what’s driving me crazy. You, just living it up in my head!”

Eddie’s mocking, bitter voice makes you flinch. He can see tears well up in your eyes, causing his frustration to melt back into pathetic desperation.

“I–I don’t know what to say…”

He so badly wants to tell you what to say—to say you love him, to say you’ve just been waiting for him to pull his head out of his ass. But he doesn’t want to lead the witness…

He knows himself well enough to admit that selfishness runs through his veins like hot, life-giving blood. If he could lead you to that conclusion, and you accepted it—despite being shoehorned into the role of best-friend-turned-girlfriend—he’d selfishly take it. He’d live in yet another delusion that this was what you wanted all along.

But he also knows how that would end. He’s seen it already—in a dozen dreams, in every morning after. The illusion never survives daylight.

So, he won’t put words in your mouth. He won’t push you to decide. He won’t ask you to shatter what’s left between you just to spare him false hope. He’ll take what you give—if you choose to let him stay in your life after this disaster of a conversation and the immature way he’s been handling things lately.

Resigned, he graciously forfeits. He’s no stranger to rejection, even when it’s passive.

“Then don’t say anything,” he shrugs, lips curling inward, gaze falling to his hands, worrying the skin at his cuticles like it might distract him from the ache in his chest. “I get it. This was stupid anyway, I'm sorry. I…this was shitty of me.” A humorless snort escapes him, the understatement almost laughable. “Really shitty. Feel free to never speak to me again, by the way. I’d understand.”

Unable to meet your eyes for one last look, Eddie retreats to the couch, collapsing into a miserable slump. He’s not going to throw you out just because you rejected him—doesn’t feel like he has the right to tell you what to do. But he hopes you’ll spare him your pity and leave soon. He’d like to have at least one more good dream before they all shift into horror reruns of this conversation.

Unfortunately, he’s got hell to pay karmically, so the quiet pitter-patter of your feet approaching doesn’t surprise him. His dissociative state doesn’t break when he feels the couch shift one cushion away as you sit down, folding a leg beneath you. Eddie falls to his knees inside his own head, cursing everything in the sky above—because of course you’ve gotten comfortable. Looks like you’re staying for however long it takes to realize he’s an awful person and you should be rid of him.

Living in his peripheral vision—an ironic coincidence, given all the years he neglected to realize his feelings for you—he can vaguely make out your thoughtful expression as you stare at him for some time before taking a break to join him in his dissociation toward the turned-off TV. That trade-off continues for what feels like hours, but is probably only one. Maybe one and a half.

With time crawling by like the final mile of a race he was never meant to win, he loses track of you—too busy reliving every dream and the memories before. His mind flickers like Times Square, each screen lighting up with moments just for you.

If he’d been more aware, he would’ve noticed the way you crept closer to him every couple of minutes. Centimeters made the difference from the distance you originally kept. So deep down the rabbit hole you carved in his mind, he doesn’t realize until he feels heat bloom through his body, starting at his lips and traveling all the way to his toes.

Tears well up in his eyes, his chest tight with the unexpected flood of feelings your kiss stirs up. It's not just your lips—it's the overwhelming rush of something he didn’t see coming. Confusion clouds his mind—he thought you rejected him. The hesitation he saw in your eyes earlier, the way you fixated on Chrissy—it didn’t make sense. He thought he fucked up. You didn’t seem to accept his confession. But now, here you are, in front of him, close enough to make him question everything he thought he understood.

He can’t make sense of it. This doesn’t feel like rejection. No, this feels…like home. Like he’s finally come in from the cold. Like your sunny warmth is pouring through him, and he’s alive in a way he hasn’t been for a while.

But then, fear jolts through his veins—what if this is just another dream? What if this is the illusion of something real?

Déjà vu crashes over him like a second wave—but without the usual eerie discomfort. He’s been here before—this moment, this feeling—like it’s been lifted straight from a dream. Only now, he’s not fighting it. The warmth, the closeness, the way your lips feel against his—it’s all too familiar, too vivid. He swears he’s lived this before, seen it in his mind’s eye a hundred times. But now, it’s real, and it’s impossible to deny.

Your tongue glides along the seam of his lips, breaking him from his spiral—wordlessly begging him to reciprocate. He wants to, but his body refuses. The kiss is too real, too overwhelming, and he’s frozen in place, afraid that if he moves or speaks, it will all shatter. It’s only when he opens his eyes, feeling your warmth still lingering, that the doubt fades. There’s no escaping this. No denying it. You’re still there, close enough that he can feel the warmth of you, a thin string of saliva connecting the two of you—proof that this was real. A messy, fragile reality he never expected.

His brain functions at a quarter of its usual speed as his wide eyes rove over your face—you’re real. You’re real, and you’re really close. Closer than friends should be.

Just like in every dream he’s ever had of you, he can feel the words before he hears them. “How long?” 

Struggling to focus through heavy lids and buzzing static in his head, Eddie’s brow furrows. “What?”

The sweetest smile he’s seen almost every single day of his life pulls at your wet lips, despite your attempt to temper it. He must sound like an idiot right now, but he’d put on a dunce cap and do a little dance just to make that smile widen—and maybe, just maybe, if he’s really good—hear your melodious laugh.

“How long have you felt this way? I mean, how long have you known?”

Oh. That. 

Anxiety spreads through his chest as he realizes he’s going to have to share his feelings again—right after the disaster that happened earlier. He has to hope it’ll end differently, or he’ll never get another word out. Your kiss certainly helped feed his delusion…or maybe it’s not a delusion. 

There’s that pesky hope again.

“I–I wanna say since I met you, but I don’t think that’s really true,” he mutters regretfully—as if unconsciously loving you for the better part of two decades isn’t enough. “Wasn’t exactly ruminating on the meaning behind how much I loved you more than my other friends at five years old. I didn’t unlock the power of introspection until high school, unfortunately.”

His attempt at a joke lands, and he revels in the puff of breath you let out—more heat to his lips, more hope to his heart. He watches as you study him closely, your eyes scanning his face. His heart skips a beat when your gaze drops back down to his lips. But the weak organ feels like it’s folding in on itself, crushed beneath the weight of your next words.

“Can we just go back to normal?”

Crestfallen, Eddie struggles not to show it. Your pleading whisper harpoons his weak heart, dragging it violently from his chest and landing it in your squeezing grip. Of course you’d want that. Of course you’d want to go back to normal—it’s the least he could do for you after the way he blew up everything around him. Who would want to be with someone so incapable? You certainly don’t deserve that.

But the kiss.

The kiss was just a pity kiss. A weird way to let him down easy, but he won’t fault you. He’s been doing a lot of weird shit lately. He has no room to judge.

Forcing what he hopes is an understanding smile onto his face, he casts one last, longing glance at your lips—the lips he'll never feel again. “Y–Yeah. Yeah, we can.”

Much to his chagrin, you don’t move away from him. You’re still hovering close to his face, torturing him with what he can’t have. What he ruined. 

“And that means…movie nights and hangouts again, right?”

Gulping, Eddie puts on a brave face, ignoring the way he can feel your gravitational pull—your lips calling to him like a siren in murky waters. But he can’t give in. That would be the worst of the worst. To kiss you without your consent? He’d send himself to hell for that. Here you are, trying to become his friend again, and he can’t stop thinking about your lips. He could kick himself.

He’s got a lot of work to do—burning this feeling out of chest.

“Yeah, of course.”

The burn comes sooner than he expects—but it’s not the right kind of burn. Flames of heat engulf his body at the feel of your warm palm on his chest. Now he has two points of searing desire to deal with. Great. First, it was your sinfully soft lips; now it’s your gentle hand, your rogue thumb caressing him while he punishes himself for mistaking innocent consolation.

Unable to stop himself, his eyes flutter shut, reveling in the affection—before he forces them open again.

“Can we have sleepovers again?”

The request sets off alarm bells in his head. But you’ve proven to be real this time, so it can’t be that. Luckily, he’s fantastic at ignoring warning signs, choosing to nod a silent yes to your question.

He wants to say no. Sleepovers again? Watching you sleep, seeing the way your face melts in contentment, how you inch toward him, seeking solace in his body heat—it would be torture. But he’ll take whatever he can get. Damn his selfishness.

Eddie’s breath hitches as your head bobs, chin jutting forward, almost as if you felt the same pull he did. As if you wanted to find solace in his lips too. Like it was home to you as well.

“Can I sleep in your bed?”

The weight of the request sinks in, dragging him back to the reality of what he’s already imagined—the closeness, the heat, the way his heart would race. He’s torn, but he’ll do anything just to have you back in his life. If that means endless nights of torture and tests of his will, so be it.

“Sure…”

Before he gets a chance to follow up with how he’ll take the couch and you can have his bed, you’re whispering another question—drilling a millionth of a centimeter closer to the root of his temptation.

“Will you hold me?”

His eyes search your face, a brow raised at your request. In his quest to find any hidden meaning, all he sees is innocent curiosity. It only makes him want to punish his mind more.

Bad, bad, bad Eddie. Bad. 

Shame, shame, shame. 

“If…if you want.”

“Will you show me what you dreamed of?”

If you weren’t so close to his face, Eddie might’ve blanched at your words. Instead, he settles for a shocked tilt of his head, unable to tear his gaze from yours as he struggles to understand how this could possibly be reality. Pinching his arm, he tries to wake himself from what must be the most meta dream he’s had to date. There’s no way you just said that. After everything? He’s so confused he could cry.

At the quiet movement below, you glance down, chuckling at the way he’s desperately trying to wake himself from reality.

He finally releases a heaving breath when you back away, giving him space for the first time in what feels like forever. The relief is short-lived, though, when his heart thumps wildly like a rabbit’s foot at the feel of your warm palm sliding down his chest, then his abdomen—almost mirroring the movement from a dream he once had. But you don’t settle there. Instead, you rest your hand on his, halting his assault on his forearm.

“It’s real,” you assure, almost making him cry from the clarity he’s been sorely missing. “Now, I’m still pissed at you for being so stupid, and I’m not happy with the way you handled everything—I don’t appreciate the secondhand guilt you so graciously gifted me, considering I’m the one who came between you and Chrissy—but it’s real.”

Eddie wants to cut you off, his mouth already open to assure you that it was more like Chrissy came between him and you, given all the history there—but he swallows the argument when you shoot him a pointed look.

You suck in a steadying breath, seemingly preparing yourself for something—and he’s dying to know what.

Glancing up at him through blackened lashes, you mumble a vague, “It’s you, Eddie.”

A soft, rueful laugh slips from your shy smile as you gaze intently at your hand atop his. “It’s real, and it’s always been you.”

He watches you with rapt attention—doesn’t want to miss a single moment of this.

You hesitate, as if gathering the right words to explain how you feel, and Eddie finds himself empathizing. It’s a lot—to be real, to be transparent, to place your bleeding heart in someone else’s hands and hope they don’t crush it.

“I didn’t know if you would ever feel…the same—the way I did. Y’know…” You shrug, passively opting out of a full confession, still unsure of everything that happened between him and Chrissy—and your place in it all.

Eddie’s heart feels weightless in his chest, just pondering the past tense you used. You didn’t know. How far back? How long ago did you realize you felt…something? And that cop-out—y’know.

He doesn’t know. But god, does he want to. He won’t push you tonight, but he’ll spend the rest of his life begging for your version of every shared moment. He wants to know everything you feel for him.

And he’ll gladly, excitedly tell you his—as long as you tell him yours. He wants to hear your dreams. He wants to know if he stars in them the way you shine so brightly in his.

His train of thought crashes, cut off by the sharp jab of your fist into his shoulder. He flinches back with a wince. “Ow!” Jaw agape in full offense, he meets your determined face, your features drawn tight in admonition.

“You still owe me a game of Q*bert, jackass. And you’re definitely paying.”

Eddie’s pain melts away at the memory of the deal he made with you—how he promised to take you to the arcade, just the two of you, and pay for all your games. Pay for you to beat him on every lousy machine.

He didn’t forget. He won’t forget how much he owes you for everything he’s put you through.

Rubbing the spot where your knuckles dug in, he nods, avoiding your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Think I’ll be paying for a lot from now on.”

Another fist flies into the same sore shoulder as soon as he drops his hand.

“Damn right, you will.”

Before he can whine out a complaint, your lips are on his again, pulling him into a hypnotic trance of messy, wet tongues—one hesitant, one sure. When you pull away, his lips follow instinctively—resigned to his fate at the bottom of a darkened sea, forever drawn to the siren who led him there.

A smirk pulls at your mouth, a teasing glint dancing across your eyes—the same eyes he’s stared into every night for months. “That’s what boys do on dates, after all.”

A/N: This is just like when Lady Gaga said, “That girl in your head ain’t real. How bad do you want me, for real?” Like, comment, reblog to help a writer out.

Dividers by: @/saradika

NO MORE BUFFERING

“Eddie, what kind of internet do they have in Hawkins? You’re lagging like shit… again.”

“Don’t disrespect it–” Silence, a robotic voice coming in making you roll your eyes. “–It’s a small town–” and again. “–You know.”

“No, cause I didn’t hear half the shit you said.” He froze on the screen for a second before the call dropped. A second later, your phone started ringing, making you scoff with a smile, answering the video call. 

“I am so tired of this shit, sweetheart.” You saw his mop of curls coming into view as he placed the phone standing straight on his desk. You saw he was shirtless as he put cream on his hair, one of your requests after seeing the dryness and open ends on them.

“I told you to call the company many times!” 

“It’s not the company, Hawkins is shit.” You giggled at his outburst, feeling your cheeks flush the more you looked at the expanse of his chest. The arms covered in tattoos, and you could see the happy trail going down into his sweatpants, which were too low, and his bush started sticking out a bit. “You done checking me out?”

“You’re hot.” You heard him chuckle on the other side of the screen. Your lovely boyfriend just posed for the camera, pretending to be in a vogue magazine or something. You giggled as you felt your cheeks heat up. No matter how many months had passed, he would still make you feel giddy and nervous. Who would have thought that the stranger standing on the other side of the screen would become your long distance boyfriend?

You didn’t plan it, really. It just happened.

Since you were little you liked playing video games. You adored it. Unlike some of the girls and boys in your school who did sports and stuff, you preferred to stay home with your Playstation 1, then the second one, then the Wii, then your first computer to play on. You made friends along the years, but then those friends lost interest in video games.

Nowadays, you have a full on gamer setup built in a room of your apartment. You also had studied Video Game 3D blending and you have a very well-paying job at a game producer company. You were basically living the life you always wanted to have. Your friends didn’t mind that you were a hermit or a little introvert with yourself. They learned to love you that way, often just laying on the bed as you play games, just being there for company, and you greatly appreciated that.

The problem was, none of your friends played online, and you were sick and tired of going into teams with random people in Call of Duty, and you were also disgusted and fed up with the men that just insulted you in game just because you were a woman, even if your score was better than what they did. They just kept insulting you, reporting you, and you encountered maybe just one woman every night in the lapse of ten matches. 

So, you opened your Discord app, where you can join community servers of fandoms, and you joined the Call of Duty official server. You wanted to build a team, or to join one where they would not judge you. Maybe you could find an all-girl team in there. Your mouse moved around, looking through the topic channels to find what you were looking for. Finally, there it was.

‘Team finder.’

You decided to give it a try and joined that channel, seeing the people messaging each other, some asking for teammates and revealing their status in the game. You were pretty high in rank, so you were trying to look for a team that had the same one or close. Suddenly, a user that went by ‘i wear weird al shirts’ sent a message.

‘Looking for just one more teammate. We are looking for either a diamond or crimson rank!’

Your heart beat a little bit rapidly as you replied to them, telling them you were crimson rank. You received a message request later, privately, and you saw it was that same username, introducing themselves as Dustin. You checked their profile card, seeing they went by he/him. You were very respectful with the online community’s pronouns, so you always made sure to get them right.

He told you that they have a server for the teammates only, but that they would like to test how they feel with your gaming ability first. You licked your lips a bit and hovered over your keyboard, wondering if you should tell him you are in fact a woman. But you don’t know the rest of the team, so there might be another girl in there. 

You gave Dustin your username, immediately receiving an invite in game. You joined the crew. You entered a very silent lobby, the other five people inside but not talking. You assumed that they were talking to each other in that private discord. You now hovered on your hot key to push to talk in game, but you didn’t quite want them to know you were a woman yet. Finally, one talked.

“Hello! I’m Gareth!”

“You are just going to give out your name like that? Christ.” Three guys for now. So you got Dustin, Gareth, an annoyed person and you are left to know two more. 

“Stop having a stick up your ass, Mike. I’m Jeff.” Another guy.

“I’m Eddie, the most handsome guy in here.” You saw the speaker icon at the top of their characters light up each time they talked.

“Shut up, Eddie. Let’s just play and see if this guy is any good.” This Mike dude was very irritable. Your eyebrow twitched when he called you ‘guy’. They thought you were a man.

“Hang on, maybe it’s a lady!” The character of the guy named Gareth lit up.

“As if.” Mike talked once more and your anger was slowly rising - you were committed to make this guy eat his fucking words. When you get angry in game, you get ten times better, and this stupid little man is gonna wish he got on your good side by the end of it.

“You ain’t going to present yourself, sugar?” The Eddie guy talked and you decided to type by now.

‘If by the end of the game you guys want me in your party, I will.’

“Fair enough.” He responded and you sighed in relief. They went silent, and you could only guess they were talking on the discord again to each other. They started the game.

You got first kill.

First headshot.

The guys were cheering you on. Even the Mike guy was going insane over you.

You ended up as Player of the game. You smiled in triumph as you laid back on your chair. The guys cheered for you in the lobby, and you received a message from Dustin, the invite to a server called, ‘Hellfire Club’. What an odd name. They played nice, and they were fun with their commentary, the problem was if they would accept you when they learned you are a woman. One way to find out.

You clicked on the link, accepting the invite. You saw them all connected to the voice chat, and you felt your belly turning with nerves. You licked your lips as you took a deep breath in, seeing the messages in the chat to join them. You pressed on the voice chat, their voices blasting in your ears, cheering for you.

“Look who it is! Our champion! Our savior!” Dustin yelled and you smiled, containing a laugh. 

“May we ask for the name of our brilliant knight?” You saw Eddie’s icon light up at his voice. This was it.

“Lady.”

Silence. Radio fucking silence. This was the part where you get kicked out, wasn’t it? Or where they start bashing on you, or bully you, or assume you are cheating in the game. 

“Holy fucking shit!” The guy Jeff exclaimed as they started laughing, Dustin’s icon lighting up then.

“Mike, you better fucking apologize cause she carried your sorry ass just now!” You rolled your eyes, not even thinking the guy would properly apologize but–

“I am so sorry, I am forever in your debt.” Your eyes widened and then you saw on your other monitor how, thanks to this match, Mike had ascended rank in game. 

“Uh, no problem.” You didn’t want to make your voice cheery, or high pitched with emotion, just in case you would annoy these guys. Eddie talked again through chuckles.

“We have a goddess in our land, boys, we gotta behave.” You sat there, expectantly as you waited for everyone to settle down. Then Eddie, who you saw was the one who created the server to begin with, talked to you again. “Does the goddess have a name?”

You gave your name softly, and each guy greeted you properly. You were stunned at this change of scenery. These guys were chill with you, but you really do wonder–

“Aren’t you guys freaked out that a girl is playing with you?”

“Are you kidding? One of our members was a girl too, she kicked ass, the sister of a friend. She started school so she is not able to play with us as much as before!” Dustin explained and your mouth fell open at that. They didn’t care if you’re a girl. They just cared that you played nice. 

“Ahem, sweetheart.” Your body straightened up at the pet name, not disliking it at all for some reason. “You wanna join Hellfire?”

Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday, you all played together for hours. Mostly were wins thanks to you and Eddie, then there were some losses, but not a single game was toxic. They raged sure, but you weren’t far behind.

“COCK SUCKING SLUT, YOU FUCKING CHEATING PIECE OF SHIT!” You yelled loudly, ready to throw your controller across the room because you knew you found someone using a bot to aim perfectly at the head. 

The boys’ laughter resonated in your ear, and Gareth was always the one to try to calm you down. You were so happy to have found a group that liked you, that had fun with you, and honestly was super interactive. The boys shared their foods, purchases, even clothes they bought in the general chat of the server. They showed their pets as well, Eddie, you and Jeff being the only two who didn’t own any.

You confessed you’ve always wanted a rat, and while most of the guys disagreed, Eddie was on your side 100%. He found rats cute, and he knew that they are as intelligent as a seven month old puppy.

One night in particular, after a month of talking with them, they decided to have a drinking night with you. Even if they were close to each other in distance, they stayed in their homes so that you could join and not feel left out. You were so thankful for them, but that meant you would be on camera for the first time. You wondered what they imagined you looked like, and you wondered how they looked like as well. They never shared pictures in the chat, and you never shared yours. You assumed they just wanted to keep their privacy. They knew each other in real life, unlike you.

So you got yourself out of your hermit clothes, put on makeup, even did your hair a bit. You put on an oversized sweater and prepared your beer in front of your PC. You took a deep breath in as you fixed the camera at the top of your monitor and you looked at yourself in the preview before joining the voice chat. You could see everyone pinging you, hurrying you, and you finally clicked the button.

The boys cheered as you came on the screen. You saw how they clapped and whooped. Only one person was not saying anything and– Oh fuck… 

You didn’t expect Eddie to look like that. You didn’t expect Eddie to look like your type. Oh, fuck. And he wasn’t talking. He wasn’t saying anything, why?

“Hey, Munson, you alright there?” Jeff asked with a snicker on his lips, which made Eddie finally snap out, his curls falling on his face. You didn’t know if it was because of the lighting or what, but his face turned slightly red. 

“Yep, totally fine. I’m just bummed I have to give up my throne.” Your eyebrows met in the middle a bit, staring into his camera only.

“Your throne?”

“Prettiest from the group, duh.” At his words, Gareth whistled, Mike and Dustin laughing with a cringe, but you felt yourself flush all over. It’d been a while since you got complimented like that, but that was because you truly never went out. You can’t even remember when was the last time you had sex. Your dildo doesn’t count.

“I beg to differ.” You commented and that seemed to catch Eddie off guard, because he choked a bit with his saliva. Jeff laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera.

“You guys want us to leave?” And was it evil for you to wish that? A bit. You chuckled and shook your head as you raised your can towards the camera.

“I thought this was a drinking night?”

After that camera call, it seemed the boys were keen to keep putting the cameras when in the voice chat. You did as well, taking them grocery shopping and to the pet store to look at rats, the only one aww’ing at them being Eddie. But there was one particular call where Jeff, Gareth and Eddie were together while Mike and Dustin were not online.

“Welcome to your first Corroded Coffin concert, sweetheart!” You were in awe as you saw them play, but Eddie– Eddie caught your eye. He had been catching your eye for a while, and after exchanging instagrams with everyone, that attraction only grew. 

But what were you thinking? He lived in Indiana, you lived in Virginia. This was just attraction over a guy you’ll probably meet in a year if this online thing doesn’t fall apart. It’ll go away. It had to.

Yet there was one night, where Mike, Dustin, Eddie and you were playing together, Dustin and Mike telling you that they were heading to bed. You pouted a bit on camera, not really wanting to go to sleep, but you knew the gaming night was over. You said goodbye to Mike and Dustin, about to say goodnight to Eddie as well, but–

“I’m not tired, you wanna stay on call with me, sweetheart?”

One call turned to two, to three, to four, to times when you both pretended to be offline so you could call each other privately. You watched movies, talked about TV shows, about one another’s lives, likes and dislikes, and soon, your attraction turned into a crush. Your heart raced whenever you called him, whenever you woke up with good morning messages from him, and then you called each other every single day. 

You shouldn’t have done this. You were now with a crush on a man who lived miles away from you. And maybe he didn’t even feel the same for you, just that he found a new friendship in you and maybe he just wanted a feminine touch in his life.

“This movie fucking sucked ass, Eddie.” You laughed as you rubbed your eyes, the credits of the movie you two watched together rolling up. You looked at his face as he laughed into his hands in shame.

“This is what I get for following Steve’s suggestion, for fucks sake.” ‘Drag me to hell’, supposedly a great scary movie. Sure, if you think a possessed talking goat is scary.

“Tell Steve that if I ever meet him, I’m tying him to a chair so he forcefully watches the ridiculous 6. That will cause him an aneurysm.” You heard him scoff, putting a hand to his chest in feigned offense.

“Take that back right now!” You could only giggle, shaking your head.

“No, I’m standing by what I said.” 

“Take it back–”

“Make me.” Suddenly he went silent and your smile fell. Did you fuck it up? Did you go overboard with that?

“Do you want me to?” His voice was not playful, no… it was flirty… Oh, he was flirting with you. Eddie was flirting with you. 

“Mmm, I don’t know. Depends on how you do it.” This time you heard him groan, your heart beating out of your chest as he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the camera and the screen, probably looking at you.

“Okay, I think it’s time we cut to the chase, shouldn’t we, sweetheart?” 

“What do you mean?”

“I enjoy being alone with you here, do you enjoy being alone with me?” You felt your body flushing all over, sweat appearing on your fingertips.

“I do… a lot.” And he nodded. You noticed how he nervously looked at the camera and then at the screen. He ran a hand through his hair before he spoke again.

“Darling… I know it’s fucking stupid, and– Kind of weird– but, fuck… I have never met a girl like you. In my entire fucking life. I mean– Who the fuck listens to the Sims 1 soundtrack on the daily?” Your eyes widened at that, gasping.

“I do! It’s very comforting!” He only chuckled, shaking his head.

“And something I never heard in my life… You’re weird.” His eyes were soft as he looked at you. You bit your bottom lip as you played with your fingers on your lap. 

“Is that a good thing?”

“I really like you, sweetheart.”

And the words took a while to process in your brain. This guy that never got to touch you, or see your entire body, likes you. He just does. He likes you because of who you are, not exactly how you look. The cameras on were just a plus to make the calls even more personal, which only made your crush grow bigger.

A smile spread on your lips as you saw him covering his face with his hair, acting shy, peeking through it as if he were hiding. He was cute. Such a dork. And so handsome… and gentle. Caring. He bought you a plushie you wanted from Kingdom Hearts that you saved in your wishlist. You were surprised when you received it, not knowing if you accidentally bought it, but the note inside made your heart melt on the spot.

‘Happy birthday, my goddess.’

“I really like you too, Eddie.”

So no, you didn’t plan it. You didn’t plan to date someone online for five months. You presented him to your friends and even if a little weirded out, they really didn’t expect something else coming from you. They were happy you found someone, even if not in the practical way. 

The boys already knew. They had confessed to you, embarrassing Eddie in the process, that he never stopped talking about you. He praised you whenever he could, reminding everyone you were a lady and beautiful and that you had to be respected. 

But in a relationship come needs. Eddie is handsome. He is… well, he is hot. You find him extremely attractive, inside and out. Your dildo could be named Eddie at this point from how many times you used it and called his name out loud, pretending your pink dildo was his cock. 

So, in one bold movement, after a month of properly dating, you decided to do your first bold move. You sent him a suggestive picture of your cleavage. 

‘Should I wear this top for Heather's party?’ 

It had taken him a moment to reply to you, making you wonder if he was busy or if he was just staring at your picture. You started second guessing yourself, wondering, again, if you had gone too far, only for your phone to ping.

‘Sweetheart, do you want me to die?’

‘Why? I’m just asking a simple question…🥺’

‘Can you send more pictures? Or a video works best, I need to do a thorough inspection to give a verdict.’

And the sexting part began. Then the pictures were no longer suggestive, just plain nude. He started that one after you sent a picture of yourself in your lacey underwear and bunny ears in front of your full-length mirror.

‘I’m so fucking hard right now, darling, you have no fucking idea.’ He sent this message with a blurred picture attached. You knew what it could be but– You were not prepared. You were not prepared for what you saw. Not only was it big. Not only it was curved. But Eddie had a tattoo along the shaft. He had Sindarin markings on the underside. 

It made you wet in an instant. 

Sexting turned into phone sex with video calls. He saw you, you saw him. He saw you fucking yourself in your dildo as you moaned his name, and you saw him fuck his hand to yours. It was daily, if not every two days. You had never done this before, but fuck if it wasn’t hot. Hot, yet not enough. 

Which brings you to five months into the relationship, and the present day.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He called out as you hummed, still looking at his body as if you were daydreaming. He laughed, leaning over to look into the phone camera. “Stop drooling over me, for just a second.”

“No way, not possible, live with it.” He shook his head at you, his smile faltering slightly with nerves and you tilted your head in wonder as you felt your stomach flip with nervousness. “What’s wrong–”

“Nothing is wrong. I promise! But uhm… well… With the new job, I managed to… kind of save up.”

“For what?”

“Visiting you.”

Your brain short-circuited. You had explained to Eddie that you couldn’t visit him for a while, not until your video game project was done with, and your work days were never set. You couldn’t take your PC with you, so you had to stay home. 

“What?”

“I– Tell me to fuck off if you’re not comfortable, I just– I really want to see you. There’s… a flight on… Valentine’s day.”

You felt yourself melt in your seat as you heard his words. He wanted to meet you for the first time and not on just any day. Valentine’s day. You knew Eddie had been struggling with finding a good paying job a few months back, finally landing a good one as a mechanic in his town.

“You… You got a new job and instead of saving up for the new guitar–”

“I saved up to finally meet you, yes– but if you tell me you’re not ready, I’ll go and just buy–”

“Yes… please…” And you two stared at one another for a few seconds, your heart beating wildly in your throat as he stood there.

“I– Yes?”

“Yes, I want you to come here, Eddie.” 

You saw him walk backwards cheering with his fists in the air, and you smiled as he jumped excitedly, his hair bouncing all around him. You saw his uncle Wayne opening the door to see what Eddie was doing, and you couldn’t help but snort as Eddie stopped and pointed at his phone.

“I’m meeting my girlfriend!”

“Okay? Uh–” Wayne looked at you and nodded in greeting, “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hi, Wayne.” His uncle didn’t live with Eddie, but he came to visit often and even stayed for a day or two at his home. At Eddie’s request. It seemed Eddie wanted independence, but he was too attached to Wayne. He had explained to you about his past, about his family, and it was completely understandable that he couldn’t let Wayne go that easily. 

“Keep it down, I’m excited for you two, but your neighbors will complain again.” And like that, he closed the door. The nerves invaded you once again and you saw Eddie rushing to grab the phone and taking you as he sat on the computer. You saw him typing away, and you knew he was looking to book that flight right away. 

You saw the concentration in his scrunched-up features, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth as he squinted at the screen, clicking away. Excitement built in your belly as you looked at him. As you looked at a guy that just lived far away, yet you’ve never felt more connected to in your entire life.

A guy you fell in love with, despite the recent connectivity issues.

“BOOKED!” He yelled excitedly and you giggled, covering your mouth as you thrashed around, finally realizing you would meet him. You would meet Eddie. You would meet your boyfriend for the very first time, and on Valentine’s day to top it off. That would be a month away, and you could tell your work to give you a breather the week he stays with you, to not bother you as much.

You were excited… but nervous as fuck.

What if he doesn’t like you? What if he sees you and is disgusted? Should you kiss him as a greeting? Were the flowers in your hand too stupid to give to him? He said he liked them, so you got him some because men also deserve flowers on Valentine's day. You were standing at the Arrivals gate, just where Eddie had told you he would get off on. 

You had prepared your home from top to bottom, cleaned it all up, and you even went to get a Bikini Wax with Heather. You exfoliated your skin, put on some lotion, and you were going a little bit crazy with it– But, was today the day? Not only were you going to meet him, but should it also be the time where you could confess to him?

You didn’t know if it was too soon or not, being the first time you ever fell in love for real in your life. You were pretty sure it was love. How could it not be? Eddie had not answered you for a whole day once, and you could not get in contact with him at all. His location was also off. Your first thought was very dark, afraid he had gotten into an accident with his motorcycle or something. You had called Gareth and you demanded him to go take you to Eddie.

You made him go to Eddie’s house while on a video call with you, and when he arrived and knocked on the door, Wayne had answered. Eddie had caught Mono. You were relieved yet the stress didn’t leave you at all. Wayne showed you Eddie’s state on video, and you saw him breathing at least, with a warm towel on his forehead and all. 

When he started messaging you back, you told him you were relieved but you had asked Wayne for his own phone number just in case. You remember Eddie being touched by how much you cared, and the fact that Wayne trusted you enough to give him his personal information just for the sake of knowing Eddie was okay.

You were clearly in love, and gone. You were holding flowers, balloons in the shape of bats and hearts. You looked silly, but you noticed some people looking at you with smiles on their faces, knowing you were most likely hopelessly in love waiting for your partner. They were absolutely right.

Suddenly, the doors opened and you held your breath in as people started walking out. You saw a family getting back together, then an old lady and a man who brought her flowers, kids greeting their mother. You were nervously waiting and– did you get the gate wrong? Maybe you did? Should you check your phone to make sure? That is nonsense, you checked like forty times, but maybe you looked at it wrongly–

And then, you saw him, dressed all in black, guitar strapped to his back, his hair pulled up in a bun, his left hand dragging the carry on. His other hand? It was holding a rat plushie with cotton flowers in its hands. You felt your eyes burning as you saw him looking around, your heart literally about to jump out of your chest and your stomach twisting with vines of nerves. This would be it. You did small little jumps with your feet, rising your heels and then putting them back down, over and over again and–

His eyes finally clashed into yours. His face lit up instantly, a smile spreading from ear to ear, his dimples showing off completely. He was so beautiful in real life and you just felt complete. You felt so giddy, something you never thought you would feel for someone else, at least not in the way you met that someone.

You bounced on your feet excitedly, smiling widely at him. His face, still smiling, made a confused frown as he looked around at what you got him. His feet started working, rushing your way as you waited by the limit. You were finally going to hold him. You were finally going to feel his warmth and spend time with him and–

You heard a huge thud of something falling and then big arms closed around you. Your arms wrapped around him, trying to not let go of his gifts but you felt like crying from how happy you felt. How whole you suddenly became. To be able to hug the person you have been talking to for months, that you have shown the most intimate parts of yourself.

His face was deep in the crook of your neck and shoulder, and you realized he had thrown the carry on to the ground as well as the plushie he got you. It was okay. You didn’t care. You felt his hands all over your back as if he was holding something so precious that he was afraid it would fall apart if he let go. And maybe, it would. Now you don’t know how you will be able to keep going with your daily life once he is gone. How you’ll keep going without his hugs, kisses and–

You flushed all over as your thoughts became impure, in just one single instant. Oh, he smelled good. He smelled so fucking good. You were in such bliss, you didn’t want to let go, but you knew you had to. You felt him pulling away for a second, his eyes meeting yours and you held your breath tightly as you waited for him to kiss you. He was going to, wasn’t he?

“Are these for me?” He suddenly asked and you were so stunned, looking down to your hands and you smiled widely, giving the flowers to him, as well as the balloons. He chuckled as the smile never left his lips. You saw a hint of a blush on his cheeks as he looked at them. “I never received flowers in my life– Valentine’s day gifts at that.” 

“Me neither.” He smiled at you, putting all the gifts in one hand so he could bend down and pick up the plushie that had those cotton flowers in the middle. You squealed loudly as you grabbed it, inspecting it. Suddenly you caught on a scent, making you lean forward and smell it, and– It’s him. It’s his cologne. 

“Sprayed it myself. I may have put a cloth inside and stitched him up again for longer effects.” Your heart was in your throat as you felt overwhelmed with emotions. You hugged the rat tightly to your chest as Eddie stared down at you with a smile on his face. 

“Thank you…” Your voice was small and muffled into the plushie. You looked up at him with bright eyes, hopeful he would lean in, and you needed to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him. But–

“Should we go? I am in terrible need of a cigarette, sweetheart.” You giggled, nodding as he bent down to grab his carry on again with his free hand, and you two walked side by side. The people all around you looked weirdly your way but still kind of adoringly. It was a metalhead guy with flowers and balloons in his hand, of course they would look. 

You two walked through the airport, smiling like idiots. You wished you could hold his hand but he was not able to right now. You were wondering why he didn’t kiss you, and maybe you should? Maybe you should kiss him when you reach your car and he puts the things in the trunk. 

He talked to you about how Wayne made him share his location at all times, the old man worried his nephew was travelling to another state by himself even if where he went, he was not going to be alone at all. You took your free hand to message Wayne, sending him a selfie with you and Eddie, signaling that he arrived safely because Eddie could not grab his phone right now. Wayne sent you a simple ‘take care now, use protection.’ 

That message made you flush all over, knowing that it was something that was going to happen no matter what. Absolutely. Wasn’t it? You wanted it to happen but– What if Eddie didn’t want to? What if he just came here to spend time with you but not to engage in something intimate? Were you looking too much into it? You literally had video sex with each other, so it not happening would be… weird… wouldn’t it?

But maybe… he doesn’t want to after seeing you? Maybe that’s why he didn’t kiss you?

Your self doubt was starting to slowly eat you alive as you reached the car where you parked. He put his carry on inside the trunk and the balloons as well because they would just not let you see on the rearview mirror, plus you might be stopped thanks to them. You bit your lip once you heard the trunk slam shut, Eddie turning your way with a smile on his face. 

“So, ready to take me to your castle, my lady?” You giggled as you nodded, ready to take a step forward in order to be able to tippy toe and signal him you wanted a kiss, but he immediately rushed to the passenger’s side after putting the guitar into the backseat, making you frown slightly. 

You went into the driver’s seat, putting the plushie to sit in the backseat so you could drive while Eddie held his flowers on his lap. He was surprised you had gotten him roses, and he couldn’t stop lavishing over them. As you drove, you put music for each other, and he was babbling away about how the guys wanted to have a call with the two of you together on camera.

“Oh, that’s kinky.” Was your comment and you noticed Eddie nervously chuckling and– Was he nervous? Shit, were you too forward? You didn’t take into account he was as nervous as you. Maybe that’s why he is not making any moves? Not even holding your thigh? 

Fuck, you wanted to jump on him and you had to calm down.

Once you got into your small complex, he was in awe when he entered your apartment. It was big for just one person, and he knew your apartment by now. You had given him a tour but it seems that showing him through video it may have looked a bit smaller than what he had expected. He put the carry on at the entrance as well as the balloons. 

“We should put these in water, I don’t want them to go bad.” He commented, still holding onto the flowers which warmed your heart. You guided him into the kitchen, grabbing a vase and filling it with water, letting him put the flowers in it. Your plushie was left on the dining table so now, your hands were free as well as his. It was already night time, and you just wanted to hold him right now, needing to feel him in your arms again and–

“Did you have dinner yet?” You asked, wanting to cringe at yourself. The air was a little tense, and your self doubt and nervousness was making you feel a little awkward. Maybe it’s not what he expected?

“I didn’t actually, and as far as I remember sweetheart, you told me there was a pizza place here that was fucking delicious.”

“Pete’s. And it will be the best pizza you ever had.” You smiled up at him, swaying a little as you put your hand on the counter. You saw him breathing a bit heavily, nervously, and he cleared his throat.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He smiled and you realized he was not going to make a move at all. You don’t want to hover over him, or read the signs wrong. Fuck. You were becoming restless, even more when you sent a message to the pizza place so you could order and for them to deliver it to your house. 

Meanwhile, Eddie was walking around your apartment, gushing over all the consoles you had. He knew you had them but it was still amazing to him to see them there. He explained to you how he could only afford the Playstation 2 when he made money out of selling weed at his school. You could only smile through your nerves as you both waited for the pizza, sitting on the couch… rather apart. 

Why was he far away? Did he not want to hold you in the same way you wanted to hold him? It was Valentine’s day and he was sitting on the far end of the couch, and you have waited for months for this moment. Should you really take the initiative here? Were you giving wrong signals? No, you’re pretty sure you aren’t. You have batted your eyelashes, you have brushed your fingers against his when handing him the can of beer, your eyes went to his lips many times and he either was not seeing it or– he was playing dumb.

Dark clouds invaded your mind as you went to the bathroom, messaging Heather immediately.

‘He is not doing anything.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He hasn’t even tried to kiss me yet, and the pizza is about to arrive, and all we did was talk, which is nice, but we’ve been doing that for five fucking months.’

‘Okay, maybe you should kiss him? Or just talk to him?’

‘What if he doesn’t…?’ You felt like your heart was about to burst as you thought of that possibility. What if you weren’t what Eddie expected in real life? What if it became way too real for him that he was now regretting ever coming to your house? What if he regretted breaking the illusion that he had of just looking at the screen?

‘I’m sure there’s an explanation… talk to him, don’t be a fucking idiot.’

You heard the doorbell ring and you flushed the toilet, pretending you went in there to just do your business. You walked out to see Eddie looking at the intercom with a frown in his face, seeing the pizza guy on the camera.

“How the fuck do I talk to him?” You laughed as you walked towards it, standing next to Eddie, pressing the button to talk.

“Hi Pete, come on up.” 

“Thank you, honey!” The old man said as you pushed the open front gate button. Eddie’s eyebrows raised in awe at it and then he frowned.

“Wait, Pete?”

“Yeah, the owner!” You smiled at him as you walked to your door, standing on your tippy toes to look through the peephole, your hips swaying excitedly as your mouth watered. You felt eyes on you, but maybe you were just making it up in your mind so that the horrible thoughts would go away from you. You saw Pete coming over and you immediately opened the door, a smile on your face.

“Hello lovely.” He greeted you and you grabbed the pizza from his hands, handing him the money and the large tip you always give him. “You know you always give me too much.”

“No, I don’t. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man rolled his eyes and then he saw Eddie standing behind you, waving at him. 

“Oh, what a lucky guy you are!” You felt your cheeks burn up as you giggled nervously.

“That I am, Pete!” You heard Eddie say and that just made you feel even more confused than before. The old man smiled, tipping his head down once and gave you both a nod.

“Well, I better leave you two alone. Happy Valentine's!” With that, Pete turned and left, letting you close the door and lock it. He could get out of the gate with a button he could press from the inside, so you didn’t have to bother with that one. The smell of pizza filled your nostrils and you moaned in delight as you walked towards the couch.

“This smells so fucking good.” You sat down, looking back to see Eddie just blinking, staring at nothing. “Eddie?”

“Oh–” He snapped out with a shake of his head, his curls bouncing around. “Yeah, yeah, it does.” 

He rushed to sit next to you, and you turned on the TV to at least put something as background noise. You decided to put ‘The Office’ which Eddie and you had binge watched together, having never seen it before. When you opened the box, you saw that Pete had followed your instructions, a smirk appearing in your face. Eddie’s eyes widened, a laugh escaping his lips.

“Oh my god.” He saw the pizza in the shape of a heart, and you giggled at how amazed he looked staring down at it. “How am I supposed to cut into this masterpiece? There’s absolutely no way.”

“Well, we do have to eat.” And that you both did. You dove in, the voices of the show in the background as he gushed over the pizza, and he had to agree with you that it was in fact the best he’s ever had. He told you that the pizzas back in Hawkins will now taste like cardboard compared to this masterpiece.

“Tell Pete he is a god. Like a literal god because, holy fuck.” You heard him groan in delight as he licked his fingers, wiping his hands with a napkin as he collapsed on the backrest of the couch, his eyes closed as if he were full. He only ate two slices, and Eddie was used to eating at least four. You once saw him eat a full sized pizza, claiming he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. 

“I’ll tell him.” You didn’t want to sound tense or irritated, but you were so happy to have him here and now you didn’t know if you were being selfish for wanting something more to happen, or if you were sad because nothing was happening at all, or if you were anxious and fearful of the possibility that Eddie did not like you in person, as much as he liked you online. 

You grabbed the remaining pizza with the box, surprised still that there are slices left. You also didn’t eat much thanks to the nerves, something your stomach would yell at you later at night, but for now, you were afraid of puking it all out. You stood up and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge to place the entire box in there, not wanting to deal with putting it away in tupperwares to save space.

What should you do now? Should you follow Heather’s advice and talk to him? But what if you make everything become a little more tense than what it already was now? You didn’t know what to do, and Eddie was not helping your case at all. You sighed as you washed your hands in the sink, letting the grease be washed away. You dried your hands with the kitchen cloth before walking out, seeing that Eddie was no longer on the couch. 

You frowned, completely confused, until you heard the water of the sink in the bathroom. You grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, walking towards your room, where your whole setup was as well. The bed was completely pressed into a corner, your LED lights in a perfect purple hue, fairy lights in the shape of stars were lit up across the wall, holding pictures of your friends, your family, the boys back in Hawkins and Eddie. There were a lot of Eddie. 

The door of the bathroom opened, and you turned to see Eddie walking towards your room, his eyes widening at the color of the room and then the yellow from the fairy lights, as if it were a purple sky with stars. He walked further in, looking at your entire PC, whistling out loud. You could only stare at his back, dressed in all black, completely contrasting with your room. 

“Damn, look at this… The pictures don’t do it justice.” Your setup was big. You had three monitors, and a very well updated PC. You needed your computer to be able to have a very fast response time because of your work. Video game 3D blending required a lot from your PC so you always kept it up to date. 

“It was an investment when I started my studies, but I gave my mom her money back in the first three months of my job, even if it was three years later.” You explained and he nodded, looking all around your room, for his eyes to then fall on your bed and then the pictures above it, attached to the fairy lights. 

You looked at his profile as he inspected them, and your heart was bursting with need, lava from a volcano just exploding right inside it. You couldn’t hold it in. The guy in your pictures was no longer far away from you. He was no longer miles and miles away, where you could not touch him. He was in your room. He was here with you. He was standing in front of you.

“Didn’t know you hung these up…”

And you exploded.

“Why?” 

His head turned to look at you, a frown appearing in his face as you stared at him. His face softened when he saw how you were looking at him. Your face was showing him distress, confusion, nervousness, and a bunch of questions that were at the tip of your tongue.

“Why what?” He asked, a nervous smile appearing on his lips and– Now you definitely know something was wrong. You could absolutely see it. You stepped forward and you saw how he stiffened in place. You didn’t know what was going on, but at least he didn’t move away from you because you were able to finally step close to him. Your head tipped back so you could properly look up at him.

“Why don’t you do something?” You saw his gulp, how his eyebrow twitched and his smile fell, and you could feel your entire inside crumble apart. Was he going to tell you now that you weren’t what he had expected? That it became way too real for him that he could barely handle it?

“Darling…”

“Am I not– You don’t like me? I– Am I not what you expected?” Your voice was small, and broken, your eyes burning with incoming tears, and his own widened, desperately reaching out for you to hold your biceps tightly, pulling himself closer to you.

“Don’t you ever think that. Not for a single damn second.” His voice was honest, rough with emotion, so now you were confused as he clenched his jaw. “You are way more than I– Than I fucking deserve to have. I have no idea how the fuck I even bagged someone like you.” 

“But– But I don’t understand… You haven’t even tried to kiss me, or hold my hand… You sat so far away from me–” He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath in. You blinked for a few seconds, and… did he lie to you? “Eddie… are you… a virgin?”

“WHAT?” His voice was loud, and it startled you, making you jump in your spot. His eyes pierced your skull almost in a glare, only to then soften as a sigh escaped his lips. “For fucks sake, I am not.” 

“Then I honestly don’t get it now.” You were angry. You started becoming irritable, annoyed, and you wanted answers. He took a deep breath in, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. His cologne made you calm down instantly, your heart skipping a beat from having him so close to you again. The closest he’s been with you today was the hug you received when seeing each other for the first time.

“I… I won’t be able to hold back.”

You blinked completely confused a few times, looking into his eyes for answers.

“What? What do you mean by that?” He sighed as his hands moved, sending chills down your entire body. They grabbed your waist, giving it a squeeze as he found his voice again.

“I didn’t want you to think I was meeting you right now just to wet my dick… I don’t want you to think that I came to visit you just for that…” 

Now you… you were enraged. 

“Are you a fucking idiot, Edward?” His eyes widened as he pulled his head back to look at your face. It was all tensed up with anger, eyes staring into his with a glare.

“I– Uh… what?”

“You made me fucking doubt myself all day, thinking I wasn’t what you expected! Or that– Or that this was way too fucking real and you became scared and you regretted coming here–” Your eyes started burning once again and you hated yourself for always tearing up when you started an argument. You always felt that stupid lump in your throat, even when you were angry, you got emotional. His eyes were wide, his head shaking from side to side like crazy.

“No, no, no! I’m so sorry I made you feel like that but… it wasn’t. No… It’s– The complete opposite of that.” The room started losing that tensed up air that was filled with anger and misunderstandings, your eyes now softening as you looked at him. His face looked flushed, his eyes were now a bit dilated, looking down at you with a different gaze, one you saw many times on video call when you changed in front of him.

“Then?”

“If I kiss you… I won’t be able to hold back… That’s why I haven’t done it all day. I would have, probably, broken a million laws.” You bit your lip as you looked up at him, your body rising in temperature the more you stared up at him and he looked down at you with that hunger in his eyes you knew too well.

“Eddie… I waited for this for months… I want it too…” Your arms went up to wrap around his shoulders, nerves turning your stomach inside out but they were good nerves. They were amazing nerves. His breath hitched only to then quicken, his hands squeezing your waist once again. “And I don’t want you to hold back.”

That seemed to be his green light. What seemed to be the last string holding him to rationality, and it was literally snapped by you. His lips immediately clashed into yours, sparks flying all around you as electricity ran all over your body. Goosebumps formed on your skin and you sighed happily into the kiss. It was soft, deep, but still not moving. 

He groaned into it and slowly pulled away with a smack, his breath hitting your lips, his eyes still closed. You felt his hands moving, wrapping himself around you, pulling you even closer. He pressed your body against his and you wanted to already moan with how warm he felt. You felt his lips peck yours again, and then pull away.

“Oh, fuck…” Then another peck, your bodies moving. “Fuck, sweetheart–” You didn’t know why he was cursing, yet he gave another peck, a longer one. “I’m done for.” And then one more kiss, “I’m so fucking done for.”

You finally felt your bed hit the back of your knees as his lips started moving against yours in a desperate manner. Nobody had ever kissed you like this. You’ve never felt as desired as you’re feeling right now. His hand went downwards to grab the back of your right thigh and pull it up, pressing it against his hip. His left knee then hit the bed, his other hand grabbing your other leg, and helping you up on the bed as he crawled into the middle of it with you. 

Your lips never separated, not for a single moment. You were chained to him, not wanting to let go at any second, feeling like it’s a lost one if you did. Your back was pressed into the mattress, as your head clashed against your pillow. You could barely breathe as his hands left your legs after he slotted himself right in between them. 

Your choice of clothes was now a pain to you. You should have put on something easier to take off, but you had chosen fucking pants. It was cold out, but it would have made this moment easier. His elbows came to rest against the mattress, one on each side of your head. 

His hips still did not press against yours and you were becoming a little needy, desperate. So, you raised your hips upwards and rubbed yourself on him, making him wince against the kiss, pulling away to look down in between your bodies. You felt the bulge, the big bulge you’ve always looked at and desired to have in your hands, in your mouth and inside. He groaned as his eyes turned to yours again. 

No words were exchanged as your hips were suddenly slammed into the bed again, a moan escaping your lips. He thrusted himself into you, giving you the wish of rubbing his hips against you. You sighed as your hands rubbed the back of his head, making you feel a little dizzy already. His lips immediately clashed with yours again, and you felt his hands all over you, just exploring all over your waist, hips, arms as his hips rubbed and rubbed and rubbed.

You moaned into the kiss, your body shivering when you felt the tip of his tongue entering your mouth, not even asking for permission and it wasn’t like he needed it. He didn’t. He could do whatever he wanted to you tonight. You were going to do whatever you wanted too. You both knew your likes and dislikes, what is okay and what is not. There was no need for questions or permissions.

He groaned into the kiss as you felt him twitch in his pants and against you. You clenched around nothing at all, and you wondered if you could cum by just him rubbing himself against you, because it felt like it. Your belly was burning. You were hoping you would not be able to walk after tonight, or after this entire week. 

Your breathing turned heavy, your hands grabbing at his denim jacket, pulling onto it by the shoulders, and he got the message. He pulled away for a second, ripping the jacket away from himself, only to desperately drop himself back on you, kissing you hungrily once more. The clothes felt constricting now and the heat all over your body was making it feel worse. His tongue was just abusing yours in the most delicious of ways. 

Eddie knew how to kiss. 

Eddie kept his movements on you, up and down, circling and then some dry humping against you that was making you see stars behind your eyelids. He was driving you insane, and your thong, the red lace set you wore today, a set you bought a few days ago with this exact intention, was becoming a wet sticky mess because of this.

You wondered if you were soaking through your pants now, maybe getting the front of his wet and damp too. He was rubbing against your clit in meditated rolls, hearing where you moaned the loudest. He was paying attention to every single detail and reaction he got from you, now learning your body in person and not through a screen. It was like the practical part of an exam, the oral part having passed flawlessly.

Your hips moved with his as his right hand landed on your breast, making your back arch against him with need. You whined into the kiss, and he pulled away from you, a gasp being let out by you. You were so sensitive. The emotions were making your entire body react to the simplest of his touches. 

“You are so fucking perfect.” Your mouth dropped open when his lips connected to the pulse point of your neck. His hand was still kneading your breast over your hoodie, those you loved to wear. Oversized and comfy, but right now, it was something you wanted to rip off of you as if it were burning your fucking skin.

“Eddie… Baby, I need to take it off–” He nodded desperately against you, but before leaving your neck, he gave a soft nibble with his teeth, making you whimper. He kneeled as you sat up, and before you could grab the hem of your hoodie, his hands were almost ripping it off from your body. He pulled it off of you in an instant, leaving you in just your tank top. You saw him lick his lips, and you wanted more, you needed more. Your hands instantly went to the hem of his shirt and he helped you, gladly, to take it off.

Your mouth watered as you saw the chest you’ve only been seeing through a screen for months, finally being able to touch it, kiss it and– Your tongue darted out, licking his chest in an upwards motion, your eyes closed. He threw his head back, shoving the shirt to the abyss, he didn’t care. Your hands scanned his sides, fingertips gliding against the skin, feeling him tense up and his chest hitch when your lips gave a kiss to it. 

He growled, cradling your cheeks in his hands, making you look up at him in a quick and rough motion you didn’t dislike, but it made you stop your kisses and kitten licks against his chest, over his tattoos. His lips crashed against yours again, deep and desperate only to then be pushed back down on the bed. He was towering over you, chest moving up and down rapidly, his eyes looking down at the button of your jeans. You gulped as you moved your hips to signal him he could move.

So he did. His hands instantly rushed to rip the button open and pull the fly down. Your nerves started coming back as he crawled backwards and he started tugging at your jeans, pulling them down and off your body desperately. Off they went, including your socks and then you felt your legs wanting to close but– You had prepared yourself for this. You should let him look, so you kept them spread. Once his eyes turned to look at you again, they were instantly glued to the red lace covering the wet heaven he had wanted to touch and taste for so long.

“Oh, and it’s all for me, isn’t it sweetheart?” His voice was deep, rough and sultry and it was as if he wasn’t really asking you, but more like he was reassuring himself in fact like he said. And it was.

“Mhm~ All of it, Eds…” Your voice small, pretending shyness, that shyness that drove him insane. You heard a growl coming from him, his clouded eyes still staring down at your moving hips, waiting for him to do something. You clenched around nothing when he roughly grabbed the back of your knees and pulled them apart even more, and away.

“Let me taste this pussy that’s been driving me crazy for fucking months.” Your breathing hitched at the possessiveness he was talking with. His hands moved and his arms hugged your thighs as his body lowered, his stomach pressing against the mattress as his face came to stare at your throbbing slit, and he could see how wet the lace was. How drenched and dark the fabric had gotten. 

You couldn’t even process his words that your mouth was falling in a silent ‘o’, his mouth latching on the thong like a leech. Sucking and licking on it and if it felt good like this, how would you feel when he uncovers it? Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as he kept licking pointedly into where your slit was, digging the fabric into it a bit.

Then he rode the tongue upwards, the pointy licks now against your clit, making you moan, letting the breath out of your lungs. Your body started feeling the heat travelling all over, and you should have touched yourself or something before he came over because you’re pretty sure you’re going to cum any second. 

He pulled away, his fingers grabbing onto the elastic of your thong, and he kneeled up to pull them down your legs. You helped him do just that and he smirked when he saw the little string of your wetness disconnecting from your center. That’s how wet you were. His jaw clenched when he finally got the thong off, but this one, he made sure to see where it landed, planning on taking it back with him. Probably frame it.

Your legs now did close while his head was turned, your knees together and leaning your way. You felt a little more exposed now, you couldn’t help it. It’s been a while since you had sex in general, this would happen no matter what. The shyness, the embarrassment. But when Eddie turned his head back around, he shook his head, glaring down at you.

“I’m having none of that.” His hands roughly grabbed onto your knees and he spread them apart, your center opening up for him, and you just flushed all over, feeling embarrassed but more aroused than ever. He was a starved man, no, animal. He was staring down at it as if it were the answer to all of his prayers. His body moved downwards, in the same position he was before, but this time, his hands gripped your inner thighs, keeping your legs spread. 

He was going to make sure to taste you completely.

His tongue darted out, finally pressing it against you, making you jerk upwards, completely taken aback by how good it felt and it was a simple press of the tongue. You were done for tonight. He hummed and moaned as he tasted you, and then–

“Fuck– Oh– Fuck!” Your voice was loud, your breathing loud as in one single moment Eddie was just looking at you after tasting you, and the next his mouth and tongue were everywhere. He sucked on your clit, kissed it, the tip of his tongue doing stripes in your center, up and down, teasing you about entering it. 

He was all over you, his fingers digging into your flesh, not caring if he leaves a mark, and if he does, good. Your head was thrown back into the pillow as he flicked his tongue back and forth on your clit, your hands flying to grab onto his head. He was still moaning, hips rutting into the mattress just by eating you out. You were absolutely delicious and he probably won’t get enough of you at all. 

“Better than what I imagined. So fucking sweet.” He hummed into you, and you felt your body start trembling, the pleasure making up a fog in your mind you hadn’t felt in so long. Suddenly, your eyes widened, feeling his tongue going inside, his nose hitting your clit as he made nodding moves with his head and his tongue moved around inside of you.

“Eddie– Eddie, baby, oh my god–” Your breathing was heavy, moaning his name out as if it were a god, and to you, he was one right now. Your belly clenched and burned and you could feel your climax creeping in by the minute. Eddie was happy to keep ravishing you, to keep tasting you, to keep making you fall apart. 

You felt one of his hands leave your inner thigh as well as his mouth, letting the air hit you and then a sharp breath, making your wetness become cold, a whimper ripping out of your throat. He chuckled as he saw your hips jerk from the air he blew, and then you tensed up when you felt his finger running through your slit to coat it with your juices. And then he entered. You wished he hadn’t taken his rings off to eat that pizza. You wanted those inside of you, he wanted them inside of you. He had told you as such.

His mouth bit the inside of your inner thigh as he kept moving his middle finger inside of you, feeling your warmth around him. Your back arched as he bit, and a moan ripped away from your throat. Your hands now gripped the pillow under your head, right by the edges. He started pumping his finger, in and out of you, and you were in bliss as you moaned his name in order to ground yourself in the moment.

So many fantasies in your head, of him touching you, of him moving on you, of his fingers entering you and making you see galaxies. You could only guess Eddie would be good with his fingers just by the fact that he played guitar. And, he was probing that fact right now and with just a single finger. 

He sucked on your skin as his eyes kept looking at how his finger glistened whenever it was pulled out of you. His hips kept rubbing against your mattress, the creaking of it ringing in his ears just by you moving your hips against his hand. He growled as he got his ring finger inside as well, and he finally curled his fingers inside of you. Your eyes widened, your head thrown back as you felt him inspect you, looking for something, rubbing and circling and wiggling and–

“OH–” Your hips jerked upwards at one particular movement. He quickly pressed his free hand on your hip, pushing you down to keep you in place, a smirk spreading on his lips.

“Found you.” Your body was combusting into itself as he kept abusing that part inside of you that no one ever bothered to find. No one ever bothered to look for it and you were feeling your body about to snap the more he rubbed his fingers against it. You were sure you were going to cum soon as you felt your belly start to turn, clench inside of you, and your walls fluttered around his fingers. There’s nothing that could make this better–

Except his tongue latching onto your clit as his fingers never stopped moving. You’ve never felt like this. Your hips were moving by themselves against him, needing more, and your moans were so loud that you were glad you had rented out a very thick walled apartment complex. You were probably heard anyways, but you honestly could care less right now.

He was sucking and biting on you and your body thrashed around as you kept your mouth open. Heavy breaths and moans escaping you without any restraint, not being able to feel anything else but the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. Then, the stars slowly started to appear as your walls clenched and unclenched in warning. 

“Ed– Eddie– I’m gonna–”

“Yes, fuck yes, cum for me. I’ve been waiting for it, cum for me.” And that was all the green light you needed as you back arched off your bed, your head turning to the side as your eyes clenched tightly, holding the pillow in a death grip and making it cover your mouth to try to stifle your sounds a little bit more. You clenched all around him, your orgasm crashing on you like a trainwreck, your belly just contorting into itself as you felt him quicken his movements, riding your orgasm out.

You were gasping as your body remained tensed up, the loud squelching of his movements becoming louder thanks to how wet you became as you came and you came and you came because it felt never ending. You didn’t even notice his mouth was no longer on you, his upper body hovering over you as his right hand kept moving inside of you as he held himself up with the other one against the mattress, right next to your head.

He was looking at your contorted face. A face he’s seen multiple times on camera, on pictures you especially took for him. You started to unclench as your body slowly relaxed, twitched every other second thanks to the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was the best and biggest one you ever had. You felt him stop his movements, slowly, until then he pulled out, making you sigh.

Your eyes opened, blinking a few times to center yourself and then you turned your head to see him looking down at you. You realized he had stared at you during your climax and you felt a little embarrassed but you couldn’t even speak that you saw the fingers that were inside of you come into your vision, your breath heavy as you stared at all the juices that were on them. His eyes went towards them, the wetness moving down his palm, towards his wrist. 

His tongue darted out to lick it away, from his wrist to his fingers before putting them into his mouth to taste you again. He moaned into them, closing his eyes, and your own were wide at how filthy everything was, yet so deliciously amazing. He got his fingers out of his lips with a pop and then he looked down at you once again after opening his eyes once more, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Delicious. You’re so fucking perfect… So perfect.” You whined at his praise, your hands reaching out, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he leaned back down, kissing you desperately. You tasted yourself in his mouth, on his tongue, and it was all a little intoxicating. But, even if your body twitched, trembled, you needed more. You were not satisfied. Your thighs closed on his hips as he pressed himself against you again.

You wanted him so much, so much that it was a little bit frightening to you. Now, it was your turn to become an animal. You used your strength to signal him you wanted to turn him. He followed your directions, letting himself fall and roll you two in a different position. You were now straddling him, chest against his as you kissed him desperately. He chased after you when you pulled away and sat back onto him. Your eyes were darkened, pupils fully dilated as your hips moved against his bulge and he hissed, his head rolling against your pillow. 

“You like that, baby?” You asked sweetly, and he groaned, nodding desperately. You bit your lip as you grabbed onto the hem of your tanktop and you ripped it off your body in just one second. His eyes were now glued to the matching red bra you had on. 

“Oh fuck… Please tell me you took a picture of yourself in this…” He asked, making you smirk and you had in fact taken one… or more. And maybe a video.

“If you behave, I’ll think about sending those to you.” He bit his bottom lips as his hips jerked upwards and you knew you were staining his jeans, but he didn’t care, nor did you. Not when you were about to take them off. You moved backwards, your eyes falling to his belt. Your hands undid it as quickly as they could. You were breathing rather heavily still, and if you had your tongue out, you bet you would be drooling with anticipation, knowing what was under these pants and boxers. 

Once the button and zipper were undone as well, it was your turn to take the pants off, but you added his boxers in the mix, killing two birds with one stone. Your patience was wearing thin right now, and you couldn’t handle wasting any more time with him. He helped you rip the rest of his clothes off, throwing his pants and boxers off and you almost fell back from how desperate you were. 

You heard the thud of his clothes on the floor and then your eyes finally saw it. Oh, pictures and videos did it no justice. Your mouth watered as your eyes looked at every detail, the veins, the tip, the length, the girth… the tattoo. The fucking tattoo on the underside of his cock. Fuck. You were sure you’re getting wetter again just by looking at him. You didn’t notice how Eddie’s eyes were looking at you as he held himself up on his elbows. 

He saw the lust filled look in your eyes, and he could swear he saw your pupils turn into literal hearts as you sighed happily, your hands rubbing on his thighs as you slowly leaned down. His breathing hitched, a broken breath being taken in. Your eyes didn’t leave it for a single second. You were fascinated. You kept your ass up as your upper body lowered more and more. Your nails dragged across his belly when you finally reached the height you needed to have him right in front of your eyes.

Your tongue licked your lips to moisten them, getting them ready to finally taste what you’ve been craving for so long. You gave his tip a tentative kiss, making it twitch instantly. He wanted to throw his head back but he needed to watch you. He needed to engrave this to memory. He is sparing this time because it’s your first time with each other… but he will throw it on the table the next day.

He wants to record you just like this, and much more.

Your tongue lolled out now, your hand coming to grip it to keep it steady as you passed your tongue along the shaft, towards the tip. You heard Eddie groan loudly, wanting to jerk his hips upwards in you, but holding himself back from doing so, letting you have your own moment. Your lips finally closed on his tip, and his body shivered underneath you. 

You closed your eyes as you moaned with delight, just sucking the tip of his length to then pop it out. You suddenly spat on it, so you could lube it up in order for your hand to help you in those places you couldn’t reach with your mouth.

“Fucking christ…” You heard him curse with a hiss and you wanted to laugh cockily at him, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. You finally guided him into your mouth, your movements slow, tongue swirling around him as you went. Maybe it was your imagination going a little wild, but somehow he tasted so good, and you blamed the tattoo for it, as if it were an exotic spice.

He gulped with a sigh, his elbows slowly starting to give up on him the more you moved your head. Your movements quickened, the noise of slurping being added into the mix and you could feel him falling onto the bed with a thud. His hands came to lay on the sheets, gripping onto them so he wouldn’t grab your head, not wanting to force you. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and you finally heard him moan your name. Sigh it out. 

That was one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. You had heard him before, but it was different in real life. It was his voice. In real time. No interference or internet filter to cover it or mess with his vocal chords. It prompted you to move quicker, play with your tongue against his frenulum, making him whimper and jerk his hips into your mouth, making him gasp when you gagged slightly.

“Shit– Are you okay–?” His head looked down, worry shining through the lust, only to find you smiling as you looked at his cock, before going back in. He chuckled in amazement and it was his go to grab your head with his right hand, just letting it sit there as you did your own pace and movements. 

You liked it. You liked the roughness, you had told him you didn’t mind soft and sweet, but you preferred rough and desperate. He is surely giving you that tonight. Your mouth was quick on him, and you could taste some precum in your tongue as you did so. You moaned into it, sending vibrations that made him moan and shiver underneath you.

“Mmmh–” You popped him out of your mouth to then lick his entire length and he sighed your name until he felt the tip of your tongue running on him, and suddenly he chuckled in awe once more.

“Sweetheart, you’re fucking tracing my tattoo with your tongue?” You were in a trance as you kept doing it, giving a dumb little nod. “Shit, that’s so fucking hot–”

“Been wanting to do this for so long… Wanted to trace it–” His resolve broke that second, wondering how many times had you imagined this and dreamed of it. His fingers snaked in your hair, deep, and then he gripped your scalp, making you whimper. The pain was nothing, it only added to the pleasure and it made you tremble as he was on his elbow, looking down at you.

“Think you can be a good girl for me and take me all?” You nodded desperately, looking at him with those eyes he fell for. Puppy eyes. He guided you towards the tip and you opened your mouth instantly, letting him go back into your warmth. Your hands stayed on his thighs, and his free hand gripped the sheets tightly, guiding you further and further and then– he controlled your movements.

He made you bob your head on him, up and down, setting the rhythm himself and you didn’t mind him. You clenched around nothing when you started feeling him hit the back of your throat. You relaxed, knowing what was going to come next and then you breathed through your nose. Once he heard you take a deep intake of breath, he pushed you down, slowly, but roughly.

Your eyes teared up as you finally felt him down your throat. Your nose was deep into his hairs, something he trimmed but kept because you told him you liked it. You breathed through your nose as you focused on not gagging. You moaned into it knowing it would send vibrations to him, causing him to moan your name, feeling his hips move underneath you with need.

But you could hold on for so long, your body slightly jerking as your throat closed on him. The gag making Eddie pull you back up and get himself out of your mouth. He looked at your fucked out face as tears ran down your cheeks, and drool was slipping out the corner of your mouth. Seeing it live was making him feel a little dizzy, and your clouded eyes were not being any help.

You couldn’t wait anymore, your body climbing up on him as he let go of your hair, his hand falling to your hip as your dripping cunt rubbed against his length, right over the tattoo. He sighed, his eyes closing for a second as he enjoyed the friction, the warmth of you. Your hands went to your back, unhooking the bra open. At the sound, Eddie’s eyes found you, taking the straps down your arms, and your last piece of clothing was long gone. 

“Oh, fuck sweetheart–”

“Eddie, can I? Please–” Your voice was desperate, whiny, and your hips kept moving back and forth on him, whimpering each time your clit rubbed against his shaft. His eyes were focused on your breasts, his fingertips digging into your skin, and then he nodded quickly, giving you the go.

You smiled, delighted. Your hips raised up enough for you to get your hand in between the two of you. Your hand grabbed onto his cock, guiding him to your entrance, which was so ready to receive him. You two had gotten tested, knowing what was going to transpire the moment you met, and you were so glad you were on birth control to regulate your cycle. This way, you can feel him completely. Raw. You started sinking down, your mouth falling open as his tip started to stretch you, then the rest and, fuck–

“Holy fuck, holy shit–” He was cursing as he looked between your bodies, seeing himself disappear inside of you as your face was still in a contorted state of pleasure. Your voice was gone as you kept sinking down, and you couldn’t wait how it felt to have him bottom out inside of you. You already felt full, and you barely went halfway down on him. It wasn’t even painful, thanks to his prep, to your orgasm, the one he caused.

Finally, you slammed down on him, a loud slap bursting in your ears at your skin hitting his. He choked on a moan at bottoming out inside of you while you trembled in ecstasy, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your nails scratched on his chest for support. Your breathing was heavy, and Eddie could finally refocus on you once more. You were adjusting to him, your head moving back to look down at him, your mouth still letting out breaths that drove him insane. 

He was about to talk, only for you to start moving, lifting yourself up to then slam back down, a moan finally escaping your lips as a groan left his. His hands were gripping your waist as if his life depended on it. He felt so good inside of you, just like you always knew he would feel like. He fit perfectly, and you certainly have no idea how you will survive when you don’t have him anymore with you.

Your hips kept moving, going up and down, your tempo rising, the slamming of your hips against his turning louder as he hit deeper. Your moans filled the room, the strain on your legs nonexistent as the pleasure overtook you. The air grew thick thanks to your breath and his, the purple hue making him look ethereal underneath you, his eyes half-lidded as he sighed out in each slam.

It was desperate, it was dirty, the squelching of your pussy against his pelvis, knowing your juices were making a mess out of it. You waited far too long for this and you were going to enjoy every single second of it. His hands moved to get a hold of your breasts as you bounced on him, as you rode the soul out of him. 

“Look at you sweetheart– Fucking look at you…” You whined at his words, your eyes closed as he hit you in that sweet spot you adored, your nippled getting in between his fingers for him to pinch and roll. Whimpers and moans leaving your lips at each shock of pleasure, and each time you came down, your clit would brush against his pubes. 

“Eds– You feel so good, so damn good–” He grinned at your praise, a thin sheer layer of sweat appearing all over his body as he played with you however he wanted. Suddenly you slammed your hips against him, changing your movements to go back and forth, a gasp leaving your throat and your nails digging into his chest.

“You feel good, baby?” He asked smugly, containing his moans in as he saw you lean back, his hands falling to your middle, while your hands gripped his knees. Your clit kept brushing against him as his cock inside you kept slapping your g-spot. Your movements were fast, hips just swaying like a dance and your mouth remained open in the entirety of it. You nodded dumbly, your head falling backwards as you stared at your ceiling, feeling your eyes burn in pleasure.

“Uh huh, uh huh–” You couldn’t even form words as your belly coiled, twisted on its own. His eyes fell closed, head thrown back into the pillow as you just used him to your liking. Your movements slowed and your head went back to looking at him, your hips changing rhythm as you swayed them in circles and you raised them just a little, moving back down slowly on him. A huff left him as he noticed the change, his eyes opening again to stare at your form.

You were possessed. You didn’t even recognize yourself, never once thinking you would act this way when meeting him. You knew you would be needy, but never this. Never this animalistic. The creaking of your bed was loud, now noticing it just as you noticed your legs growing tired, the trembling evident, but you didn’t want to stop this feeling. Eddie noticed of course, sitting up so he could embrace you, his mouth immediately latching onto your right nipple. 

Your arms immediately enclosed around his frame, hands digging into his hair as he rolled your sensitive nipple between his teeth, to then tug at it. You gasped between your moans as he let go of it, and then you let a breath out when he laid back on the bed, pulling you with him, your chest now against him. He chuckled with a breath, planting his feet on the bed, raising his hips upwards.

“My turn, isn’t it?” And the world became non-existent when his hips started slamming up into you, the slapping of skin loud enough for the people living at the very corner of the street to hear, your moans loud enough for the moon to listen to. 

His movements were rough, quick, his hands gripping your body to keep you in place and for him to have leverage. His breaths were quick, a curse and your name escaping him here and there, your headboard hitting your wall, and you were certain you would have a noise complaint in the early morning, but that was a problem for the two of you in the future.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” You whined as his balls also slapped against you, and you knew tears were falling from your eyes as he kept thrusting, rutting into you. He grunted into your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, which only made you whimper against him. Suddenly he slammed his hips into you, slow and deep, to then repeat the action, and then again.

He growled in each one, and then his hips stopped moving, still inside you, hips attached. You were both panting messes, drool dripping from your mouth from keeping it open all this while, falling onto the pillow and right beside his head. He lowered his hips, making you follow immediately, hitting the mattress once again. 

“You alright, darling?” He asked breathlessly and you smiled, nodding against him, which only elicited a smug grin on his lips. “Good, because I’m nowhere done with you.”

Your world was flipped, him having turned you both, his body on top of you once again, and his lips crashed into yours. Immediate tongues and teeth clashing, your moans into his throat and his in yours. He groaned as he slowly started moving his hips into yours once again, the fire having never left you, nor did for him. His mouth was still in your ear as he kept talking to you, softly, in a rough whisper–

“You want to know what I had to do before getting off the plane?” His words were barely processing in your head, but you still understood him as his ministrations inside of you never stopped. You shook your head, but he was not having it. “Talk.”

“W-What?” You asked and he tutted, relishing in having turned you into a cockdrunk mess.

“What…?” 

“What– Fuck, what did you do?” He hummed in approval, his breath hot in your ear, and if you thought this man couldn’t turn you on more than he was already, even when fucking you senseless, you were wrong.

“I had to jack off in the plane’s bathroom before landing.” You gasped as his hips rutted deep inside you, grunting into your ear before he continued. “I wouldn’t have lasted if I didn’t.”

You felt your belly burning, a moan escaping your lips with his name etched in it like a prayer. He chuckled through a huff, his movements still slow and meditated, his lips finding your neck once more, sucking on your skin to leave his mark. He was sure to mark you all up before he left, from head to toe, for everyone in your state to know you belonged to someone, that you belonged to him.

He will trace and retrace, leave your skin in red and purple markings. First mark? A necklace for your neck. So he continued moving, sucking onto your skin and biting onto it as he went from one side to another as you became a mess under him. Your nails were scratching the back of his neck, his back, reciprocating the marking in your own way. He could feel it, and he was going to proudly show it off before they fade away, going to make sure to prepare a gig so he could rip his shirt off in front of everyone so they could see.

His lips left your skin, his hands planting on the mattress on each side of your head to push himself up to admire his work. Your eyes were half lidded, completely blown out as your breaths left your pretty lips. A perfect necklace of hickies around your neck that looked way too good on you, a grin appearing on his lips. 

“Perfect… Fucking perfect.” With those words, your arms fell to the sides as he slowly kneeled up, his hands running all over your body, creating goosebumps on your skin despite how hot you felt. He then gripped your waist, tightly, and you saw how his smile fell, his chest moving up and down in heavy breaths and then–

He started railing into you like a madman. More creaks. More slapping of skin. More squelching. More cries of pleasure leaving you as he abused your insides in the most delicious and addicting of ways. Your hands coming to grip the pillow underneath your head once again, your legs spread as you saw them bounce back and forth as he moaned over you.

“Uh– Ed– Eds!” He loved to hear his name coming out of your mouth like this. He can’t wait to record you, stash this in his secured folder in his phone for his use when he returns to Hawkins. His fringe was surely sticking to his forehead from the force of his movements, but he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t going to stop, not when you were a blabbering fucking mess.

You saw his contorted face, the pleasure just written all over it, the desperation. Your whole entire self was putty, letting him use you, letting him take whatever he wanted from you and you were enjoying it. You were loving it. You were loving him. You gasped when you started feeling that pressure in your belly grow, the climax building inside of you and Eddie could feel it the second your walls fluttered around him.

“Where is it?” He breathlessly asked and you didn’t even know if he said something until his movements stopped and a hand grabbed your cheeks, puckering your lips to catch your attention. His face was suddenly inches from yours. “I asked, where is it, darling.”

“Wha–?” You were so confused, your hips swaying so he would keep moving but his hips were grounded against you as he shook his head at you, his grip tightening around your face.

“Where’s the vibrator?” That little pink thing he saw you use millions of times, and you were trying to process his words in your head, your hand moving shakily towards your night table. He let go of your face so he could reach over, almost ripping the drawer open and he instantly saw it. He grabbed it, your eyes following his movements as they slowly widened, knowing what he was going to do. He smirked your way, licking his bottom lip as his finger pressed on the ‘on’ button, the little but powerful bullet vibrator coming to life.

“Eddie…” You called to him as he kneeled up, sitting back on his calves, his left hand still gripping your waist tightly as his right one held your vibrator, his eyes stuck on it. 

“Intense little fucker, no wonder it’s your favorite to use, baby.” He gave it a kiss, sending a tremble all over your body, “Arch your back.”

You followed his instructions, and even if tired, you planted your feet on the bed, arching your back upwards. His hips started moving again, your hands gripping the pillow tightly once more as you whined, your mouth closed this time. The headboard started to slowly bang against the wall once more the more he picked up speed and your mind was gone. 

It felt even deeper than before, more intense, and the position was making your spongy spot be hit perfectly in each thrust. He huffed in each one, trying to control his breathing as you moaned loud ‘ah ah ah’s’, and then, a cry was ripped from you when the vibrator was placed on your clit, your eyes widening at the sensation. 

“You’re such a dream, so perfect for me, made for me–” He grunted as your body trembled underneath him, your orgasm now building at a quick and desperate pace. You would be surprised if you weren’t screaming his name. 

“So good! Fuck– It’s so fucking good! Keep– Keep going, pleasepleaseplease–” You were begging, as if he were to even think of stopping. He felt you fluttering and clenching all around him, making him growl and grunt, your name slipping from his lips. He could feel his own climax reaching close now, but he was going to feel you one more time. He rolled the vibrator around your clit, flicking it against you as the hand on your waist helped you keep yourself arched against him.

“Yeah baby, scream my fucking name, come on–” He was touching heaven right now, the more you talked, the more you cried out, the more you clenched around him. Drool out of your mouth, tears out of your eyes, that fucking necklace he put around your neck. It will go so well with his pick necklace.

“Eddie– Eddie– Eddie, please!” You kept begging and begging the more you felt yourself tipping over the edge. The creaking of your bed and the banging of the headboard falling to deaf ears, only your moans and his, the vibrator and the slapping of skin the only sounds heard between these four walls.

“I know, baby, I know. Let go, come on, you can do it for me– Be a good girl, come on–” The praise was what sent you off, your face turning just like it did last time to muffle your moan, your cry, your yelp, as your body arched into him, your walls clenching around his cock, tighter than they did the first time. It prompted him to stop his movements, a loud grunt being heard from him as you saw stars behind your eyelids.

He could only rut his hips into you to help you ride your orgasm, keeping the vibrator to your clit, making your body convulse in ecstasy. He could feel his own body tensing up, the tightness making it impossible for him to hold himself back. He felt you slowly unclench around him, your body twitching against him. Once he knew he could move again, your insides now so smooth to glide into, his need for release made him go feral.

Your vibrator was thrown to the side, and he was panting as he leaned over you, letting your back touch the mattress once again. His hands gripped the top of your headboard as your body was folded, your hips now lifting from your mattress one more time, your body already sore, but he had to cum. He needed to cum. You needed to feel him inside of you, because you would let him mark you inside and out.

His hips slammed against you, jerking you upwards, a yelp coming out of your lips from overstimulation. He grunted in each thrust, your breath knocked out of your lungs as he did it slowly, yet rough. Slam. Slam. Slam.

“I’m– I’m gonna cum– I’m going to fill you up so good, jesus fucking christ–” And all it took was one last slam before he let himself sit inside of you, his eyes clenching tightly as he came, a moan escaping your lips as you felt him and then–

CRACK.

His hands slid from the headboard as you both suddenly dropped, a gasp escaping you. A choked breath left your lips the moment you two bounced, his body almost falling over you if it weren’t for his elbows that planted on each side of your head, your hips falling back down. Your heart was beating out of your throat, your lungs compressed from the scare and adrenaline.

What had just happened? You shivered when Eddie shuddered, a last spurt being shot inside of you. You were both panting, his face coming to meet yours after he looked around at what had happened.

“Sweetheart, did– did we just break your bed?” And you realised your mattress was now on top of broken boards, hinges, and your headboard was a little wobbly, holding onto the side rails that enclosed your mattress. You blinked a few times as your arms held onto Eddie, and then–

You laughed through your exhaustion, through the adrenaline, through the remainder of your climaxes, and he followed right behind you. Breathless laughs, gulping from the sudden realization of how dry your throats were, but the giggles never stopped. Your mind was now clearer thanks to the scare, thanks to how incredible it was that you two had managed to break your slats, despite the seller telling you they were very strong and sturdy.

“We… We did…” You replied through heavy breaths, huffs of laughter escaping you through them and he chuckled on top of you, his bun now a mess, to the point it was almost coming off. 

“I’ll get you a new one… holy fuck…” You shook your head with a smile as you held his face, guiding him into a soft kiss this time, your heart bursting with giddiness. 

“No, it’s okay…” He smiled down at you, all teeth, and pecked your lips once again, his breath hitting your face, strong exhales coming from his nose. He pulled away, and his eyes were just wide with amusement as you smiled up at him.

“Oof.” He sighed to then smile down at you. “Well, that was the biggest workout I had in a while.” You giggled, giving him a nod in understanding, your chest still heaving as you caught your breath.

“I can agree with you on that one…” You reached up to put a strand of hair behind his ear, a content smile on your face, not being able to hide your happiness despite your body aching all over. He huffed one more time, kissing the tip of your nose before he started to slowly pull out of you. You both groaned at the feeling, realizing how sensitive the two of you were. He sighed one more time, his eyes falling onto your center. They widened as he pulled himself up, almost falling over from how wobbly his legs were, making you laugh in confusion as you pulled yourself up with a whimper, but he stopped you.

“Stay there! Do not move.” He stepped over the side rails, once again, almost falling over. He grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jacket, and you could see his tongue poking out of his lips as he came back to you, his camera pointing directly at your pussy. Your eyes were wide with embarrassment, wanting to close your legs on him. “Nuh uh, no.”

“What are you doing!?”

“I am not missing the opportunity to take a picture out of this!” He smiled with victory as he snapped the photo and then looked at it. “Best Valentine's ever!” 

He then showed it to you and you gasped as you saw his cum dripping out of you, and you immediately sat up properly, to then get up to clench your legs together, making him laugh.

“Not funny! It’s running down!” 

The following events were funny, domestic even. You two went to the bathroom as Eddie apologized, lying of course, while you sat on the toilet waiting for every single drop of him to fall down into it. You both then washed yourselves with a wet washcloth each because you were too tired to take a shower. A slap being given at Eddie for the hickies, the extremely unhideable hickies, he left on your neck. A brush of teeth and deciding to just go to bed naked, Eddie’s suggestion with a wiggle of eyebrows.

“Easier access for when we wake up tomorrow.” You had smacked him on top of the head and while you got some water bottles from the kitchen, he had pulled the broken slats from underneath the mattress.

After finally hydrating yourselves again, and maybe eating another slice of pizza, even though you brushed your teeth minutes ago, you were finally laying on his chest as a new comforter covered both of you because the other one had to be desperately washed now… maybe even burned.

You sighed in contentment as you traced figures on his chest, your heart beating rapidly as he kept his arm around you, the other one on the back of his head, smiling at your ceiling. The purple hue in your room thanks to the led lights making it a calm atmosphere for the two of you now, instead of horny animals.

Your mouth opened and closed as you debated your next words. Should you? Would he run off? Would he get scared? Was it too soon? Maybe it was, but you needed to get the words out of your system before you exploded with them. The actions that had just transpired made your feelings just burst and grow tenfold than what they already were.

But he deserved it. He deserved every single word.

“Eds…”

“Mmm?” He was still smiling, his breathing now calm, relaxed, and your eyes clenched as you pressed your head even more into his chest.

“I love you.”

Silence. His body tensed all over, you could feel it underneath your palm, your body that was draped against his side. You fucked up. You did, didn’t you? You ruined it. You ruined his visit, the moment, the relationship, by simply moving too fast.

Yet, both his arms came to squish you close to him, eliciting an ‘oof’ from your part as he knocked the breath out of your lungs. He was hugging you, tightly, rocking the both of you with happiness, almost giggling with it.

“You fucking beat me to it! I was supposed to say it first! I was mustering the courage just now.” He replied and your eyes widened for a second as you processed his words, a smile bursting in your lips as you held him close, feeling the need to cry out of joy, sadness, and with hope.

“Then say it back, you idiot.” You claimed and he chuckled, moving so he could be facing you, both of you on your sides now. His hand came to trace your cheek softly, adoringly, as if he was etching your features into memory. 

“I love you, my goddess.” There was a blush on his cheeks as he said it, and you knew he meant every word. You felt heat rush to your own cheeks, still smiling at him with devotion. He licked his lips nervously as he stuttered his next words. “Y-You know… Virginia doesn’t… look that bad.” 

You were taken aback by his words and– Was he saying…

“Are you… implying you want to move… here?” You asked, your eyes wide, and now you realize Eddie had been having the same fears as you were. Moving too fast. In the eyes of strangers it might be, but after having him here with you… it didn’t feel fast at all.

“I mean– It’s a little too soon, and I need to… check finances and… get a new job and all… but, well– Gotta start thinking about it, you know.” He was looking down, trying to avoid your gaze. You really wanted to cry now. You never expected that playing a game would end in this situation. You smiled warmingly as your hand rested on his cheek, making him look at you once again.

“Mmm… I think that Charleston in West Virginia sounds… good.” He frowned and you knew he was confused. You remembered how Eddie told you he failed senior year twice, so maybe you had to be more specific. “It’s right in between Indiana and Virginia…”

His face softened, a warm smile appearing and his left hand rubbing your waist lovingly. You were making sure you both had equal distance between your family and friends. A distance where you probably didn’t need a plane ticket to visit. He gave you a nod, pulling you closer for his nose to touch yours.

“Then we better start planning, sweetheart.”

And that you did plan.

end

a/n: i just think that long distance eddie would be as feral as a rabid dog when meeting his partner for the first time ever. pls reblog, don't just like

FREEZE THE HEAT

Johnny Storm never shared his spotlight.

Sure, there were four of them in the team, whatever, but he was the most likable. There are actual surveys that point to him as the one people buy from the most. Figurines, magazines, products he supports and makes advertisements for, anything you could think of. If his face is there, people buy it, and he delights himself in it. He is the only Alpha out of the four of them, so of course, this attention only makes him even more cocky.

But what if that spotlight is slowly being taken away? What if because for some reason, someone else were to come to steal the show? Well, that happened to you. He doesn't know your story; he doesn't know where you came from. At first, when the team encountered you, they all thought you came to wreak havoc in the city, but that was not the case.

You claimed you were normal before, that you were just a human. You told Reed you were a scientific researcher, and something had gone very wrong between two chemicals, and added Nitrogen. Johnny didn't buy shit out of that, but his sister told him to back off.

You are pretty. Hot. Gorgeous even. But there was one tiny problem. You were an Alpha, and he doesn't sleep with Alphas. He is the dominating one, not the dominated. He isn't docile, and he wants to prove always that he can break you, but then mend you back together. That's how he worked.

With you, he could never do that. But here comes problem number two; You were Ice. Your power was literal ice. The complete opposite of him. Reed invited you to the headquarters so he could run tests on you, and you found out your DNA had completely changed. There was another thing that Reed found out, but he told the rest of the team that it was between him and you. That was complete bullshit that only added to Johnny's dislike for you.

At first, you didn't meddle in the fights. You didn't intervene, just stood on the side. But when Ben was busy with one giant robot that wanted to crush a school bus, and Reed and Sue were trying to protect a building from falling on top of a group of people, Johnny could not stop the robot that was coming to step on the school. He couldn't melt the metal; he couldn't stop him at all.

And you just had to come and save the day.

You iced its feet into the ground, glaciers enveloping the robot, completely freezing it over, not letting electricity run through its circuits any longer. You repeated that same technique to help Ben, and once the Robot was frozen up, he smashed it, completely destroying it. He repeated it with the other one, and then helped Sue and Reed. Johnny could only move people away, and he felt useless in this fight. His pride growled inside of him, his eyes burning within his flames as he watched how you were praised, hugged, and liked.

His complete opposite, another Alpha, standing in the spotlight that he owned. It was the Fantastic Four, not the Fantastic Five. It didn't have a single ring to it. It sounded stupid. But then, Reed had to go and make you a suit for yourself. One you could use with your powers, freely, with all the same gears that the team had.

Your eyes rarely met his. It was as if you knew he was watching you, persistently. He almost looked obsessed with you, enthralled, but all he felt was a scorching fire inside of him. Pure hatred. Yet, he felt magnetized to you in a manner that he couldn't quite explain. He barely talked to you, and you two didn't even cross paths except for the typical fight.

And kids started to love you. You made ice skating parks in the middle of spring. You made ice sculptures for festivities, for parties. You started getting invited to the galas, to the award shows, and worst of all, you became the face of products.

"Buy the newest Big Chill refrigerator! One step on the pedal below, and your freezer opens; it's that easy! Oh, how chilly!" He hated your sweet voice on the TV. He growled each time he saw you advertising foods as well, ice companies, even travel companies where you sponsor trips to cold places in the world, where you can ski, and stuff. That's something he never advertised on. He would only be able to sponsor a trip to a Volcano.

"If we have to replace the couch one more time because you cannot control your flames, Johnny, you're going to get kicked out." He heard the loud thumping coming from the living room, and once he noticed, he could smell something burning. He looked down where his hand was on the couch, lifting it up to see his hand imprinted now on the fabric. He groaned, standing up to turn off the TV, his jaw clenching.

"Is it bad for me to feel angry? She is not even part of our team, she is not our family, and she is— Stealing the show from me, what is that?" He motioned to the TV and back to his friend, who was getting some bowls from underneath the sink, being careful not to crush anything.

"It's been two months already, and you have to get over it. You have to admit it, she is prettier than you." Johnny's eyes widened, raising his eyebrows, completely offended.

"Say that to me again. Try it." Ben chuckled as Johnny heard Herb coming into the room, beeping towards them while it rolled over to the fridge to help Ben make dinner. Johnny grumbled loudly, running his hands over his face, shaking his head.

"Well, you heard Herbie, she is coming for dinner tonight." Johnny wanted to burn the couch to ashes as he heard that, his chest rumbling with displeasure.

"There's something about her I can't pinpoint, and Reed knows. He knows!" Johnny exclaimed, trying to keep his composure as he felt himself start to burn again, but no flames were visible on him.

"It's something between her and him—"

"So the Ice Princess is more important than his brother in law, is that it? Our lives could be in danger for all we know!" He was exaggerating; he knew that, but he was making up excuses to drive you away. Somehow. Ben shook his head as he crushed a garlic with his thumb, putting it into the bowl as Herbie started chopping potatoes.

"Johnny, you are still liked. It's not like she took everyone—"

"She is an Alpha! I am the only Alpha in this home, I am the protector of all of you." Ben stood back. Even Betas could hear the rumbling of an Alpha in power, and Johnny was right. He was the Alpha of the house, and two Alphas cannot be under the same roof unless an agreement is made.

"I am sure she knows that. That's why she is not moving in." Johnny's eyes widened, his stare deadly as he looked at his friend. Ben realized his mistake, gulping heavily as Herbie made a distressed noise.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"Nothing. Nothing, do not mind me—"

"Did Reed invite her to move in?" And before Ben could talk, another voice chipped in.

"I did." Johnny's head snapped to look at his sister, coming over with her hand being held by her husband, who looked a bit worried. Johnny's jaw clenched, frowning at Sue.

"Why would you do that, knowing how much I don't want her near us?"

"Near you." Johnny bared his teeth at his sister, his body setting aflame, and Reed immediately stepped in front. Even as a Beta, he would protect his mate, even against an Alpha. Johnny took a deep breath in as he put out the fire around him, eyes drifting from Reed to Sue, who looked unfazed by him.

"Why?" He asked again, and Sue sighed.

"She is alone. I wanted to give her a chance to have a family, a place to stay—"

"A family!? I don't want her near this place; she already took all of my sponsorships. She doesn't need to be here." He couldn't help his voice as it slowly rose, not being able to contain the anger any longer. Reed stepped in now, shaking his head.

"Johnny, I know it's hard to understand, but she means no harm. She is not a bad person. She is not coming here because of you. She knows you… dislike her."

Something inside Johnny felt uneasy. He didn't like to hear that, even if he knew it was true. Wasn't it? He disliked her, so it was good that you knew that. But why does he feel like shit? Why does it feel wrong? Why does it feel like it shouldn't be like that? Why does he not like that you actually know that? Why does he feel like you are misunderstanding?

"Good, we don't need another Alpha in our home." The word came out like venom from his lips, and Reed sighed, looking away.

"Better that way." Johnny frowned, wondering why he would say something like that. He wanted you to live here, and now he says it's better if you didn't? Before he could ask, there was a ring, and Herbie beeped cheerfully, rolling towards the doors and disappearing from sight. Johnny sighed through a growl and walked away to start setting up the table to distract himself.

He could already smell you. Your Alpha smell was weird to say the least. He could smell the ash, the firewood, but something else behind it all. He couldn't pinpoint it, but if he had to guess, the first thing that would come to his mind would be vanilla. But that would be impossible. It must be your perfume mingling with your scent.

"Glad you came!" He heard his sister singsong, and he grabbed onto the plates, turning around to finally see you walk in with a smile on your face. You were pretty on the eyes, someone he would definitely go after if it weren't for the fact that you stole his entire spotlight.

"I'm happy to have dinner with you all." You said, and Reed gave you a hug with a smile, patting your back gently.

"Once we finish, I would like to run some more tests on you, if that's alright." He heard Reed say, and that made his ear itch with curiosity. You nodded, pulling away before moving to look at Ben. He laughed and hugged you tightly, twirling you around in the air. Johnny wanted to growl at the display of affection, as if you were part of them, as if you were in this family.

Fuck, you weren't.

He slammed the plates on the table, causing a loud clattering sound. Everyone turned their heads towards him, startled. Your face fell, and Ben sighed, putting you down slowly. Johnny's eyes were two balls of fire, staring right into your soul, challenging you completely.

And you didn't want any of that. You didn't want that. You knew Johnny didn't like you, and it caused you some pain to know that fact. Your heart felt like it clenched tightly every time he looked at you if like would murder you in any second. Kick you out without a second thought. If only he knew that you weren't there to meddle, or to replace him.

You just needed a safe place.

"Hello, again, ice princess." He greeted you with spite, and you gulped, feeling your fingertips sweat slightly as you regained your footing.

"Hello to you too, talking torch." You always followed his banter, always made sure that you were defying him, playing your part. Sue sighed, giving you a reassuring smile as she put a hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the table.

"Dinner is still being prepared, so we can just sit down and have a chat meanwhile." She said, and you smiled nervously at her as your eyes drifted to Johnny every now and then. He noticed, of course, and his nose flared as he caught something else in the air, and he wondered if it was a fabric softener of some sort. It smelled too sweet, a little intoxicating and addictive.

"That's okay, I'm not that hungry yet." You replied, and Ben nodded once, walking towards the counter again, grabbing a sweet potato to start washing it. Reed went to the fridge, something Johnny scrunched his nose at because you gifted it to them when you got the deal with that stupid refrigerator manufacturer. He grabbed the jar of water and walked back to the table, putting it right in the middle.

"Let me grab some ice." He was about to turn, and you lifted your hand, a couple of ice cubes suddenly forming inside the water. Reed smiled warmly, shrugging a bit. "Or not."

Johnny wanted to throw that jar to the wall, break it into pieces, completely shatter it all. His eyes kept scanning you all over, every inch of your body. He hates you, and he knows that, yet he doesn't know why the need to protect you was there. It was hard to admit it, but he wanted you to be okay, and he felt that if anything were to happen to you, he—

The four watches started beeping, and you looked up alarmingly, your eyes clashing with his. You all frowned as the watches were looked at. The alarm signal that help was needed.

"Over Broadway avenue." Sue said, and Ben spoke out loud to fill you in.

"It's just those guys driving like maniacs again. The ones that are, for some reason, dressed as aliens?" Johnny rolled his eyes, an idea popping in his head.

"Well, if it's just that, Ice princess and I can handle it." Your eyes widened at that, looking at the blonde man who was challenging you with his blue eyes. "Right?"

"Um…" You stuttered, and he squinted slightly, wondering why you were backing down now. You never did. Reed interfered, clearing his throat. Johnny moved his gaze to his brother-in-law.

"No, that's fine, I can go with you Johnny—"

"Oh, no, no. Just help Ben here to prepare dinner. We'll be back in a second." He looked back your way, shrugging a bit. "Can't handle some stupid guys in a car?"

Your eyes turned into a glare as you stared at him. He smirked as he realized he was getting on your nerves. You turned and started walking towards the balcony, and Reed was right behind you, catching Johnny's attention.

"It's not a good idea—"

"We'll be back in a second. It will be fine." Johnny wanted to ask, but you were already creating ice with your left hand, moving your way up and into the sky, as your right hand was behind you, erasing the path you were creating. Johnny gave Reed one look before igniting in flames and flying right after you.

You looked to your side to see Johnny flying with his hands behind his neck, belly up. He was smirking at you and you snarled at him, going downwards towards the avenue. He followed right after, and his eyes could see the crashed cars already.

"Ice princess, if I get them first, you hand the Coca Cola sponsorship to me!" He yelled and you scoffed, shaking your head, sliding around in the air as you visualized the monster truck all the way at front.

"No way in fucking hell, alien fucker!" Johnny growled at that, not liking the way you were taunting him. He flew towards the big truck, and he could see the four man cheering, laughing like maniacs. He rolled his eyes, as the truck swerved in the street, the cars moving away from it as best as they could.

"Somewhere you need to be?" Johnny talked and the man in a red alien suit, pointed at the back of the truck.

"You try anything with your fire, and it all blows up!" Johnny winced as he saw five tanks filled with gasoline. You were sliding closer, and you pointed towards the ground with your left hand, creating an ice path to let you slide on it. The right hand lifted up, pointing towards the back of the truck, freezing the tanks over.

A man in a green alien suit yelled and pointed a gun your way. Johnny bared his teeth and immediately flew across the man, taking the gun from his hand. He broke the man's hand by doing so, but he deserved it. How dare him try to kill you?

"Johnny, they're gonna fly over! I'll freeze its wheels!" Johnny nodded at your words and you pointed your hand towards the wheels. Your eyes widened when the ice stuttered a bit, not coming out from your hand. You wobbled on the ice as you lost control of yourself a bit, but you took a sharp breath in and concentrated the best you could.

Johnny's eyes were on you, having noticed the change. But you were now freezing the wheels and he flew sharply to the front. Suddenly, the truck came to a forced stop and the four giant wheels got stuck to the ground thanks to your ice. The four man flew from the uncovered top of the truck. Johnny got one by one effortlessly, holding four man over one of his shoulders, uncovering that area from his flames.

He flew down onto the ground, dropping the men on the floor as police men rushed to him. The men groaned, dizzy from flying out of a moving vehicle. His eyes turned to look for you, and he saw you sliding away from the scene, making him frown.

"Johnny, thank you—!" Before the police chief could finish, Johnny was already flying in the air to follow you. Your ice was coming in quick spurts out of your hands, and you were breathing heavily, hoping to get to your building before it was too late.

This was a bad idea. You had let your ego and facade take over you. You saw Johnny flying next to you out of the corner of your eye, and you tried to pay him no mind, but his fucking scent—

"You ditching dinner, Princess? Good, because—" His eyes widened when ice stopped coming from your hands and you wobbled on your ice, drifting on it until you reached the pavement, making you topple over and roll on the ground.

He immediately flew down next to you, kneeling as people started to slowly come over with worry. He pulled you in his arms and— You were burning up. How— No, it couldn't be. You shouldn't. It was not possible.

But you were, and he needed to keep you safe. Away from everyone.

So he flew into the sky with you in his arms.

Johnny knew where you lived.

He didn't mean to memorize it, but he did. He saw it stuck in the refrigerator, as well as your phone number. At first, he just glanced at it. Then two times, then three, then it was a game for him to see if he remembered it all correctly, and then he took a peek at it to make sure he did. Glad that it now came in handy.

"Johnny— Johnny, you— You can leave me at the bottom of the building and I can go up—"

"Oh, shut up, I'm going to your balcony, it's faster!" You tried not to make any sounds, but you were in pain. You looked in pain. Was it your rut? A fever? You were scorching hot under his arms, and he didn't like that. He didn't like it because this meant something was terribly wrong with you. He should have taken you to Sue so she could examine you, but there was something inside of him that told him he had to take care of you. He had to be the one to bring you to safety.

He was flying around the building, counting the floors until he finally reached the fifth one. You wanted to throw yourself off his arms, but as your breath turned jagged, your body started to slowly give in. You felt limp, like Jell-O. And you knew he was not going to let it go. He wasn't going to let you down at the bottom.

"The— Balcony with the hanging wind chimes…" You said breathlessly, choking on your saliva as you felt sweat dripping off your forehead. Johnny gulped, getting another rush of a sweet peachy scent that almost made him wobble in the air. He caught the wind chimes on the second balcony on the corner. Blue seashells with baby blue glasses, moving as the wind blew. He quickly flew towards it, landing on the floor.

He slowly put you down, his hands around you as you wobbled on your own two feet. Your hands were gripping his biceps, not wanting to let go. His fingertips were digging onto your waist, his eyes trying to find yours, and he felt himself become conflicted. He shouldn't care so much, but this felt like something was chewing a part of him off.

"Okay, let's go in—"

"No! No… You— You can't come in, I'm alright—" You took one step back, only for your left knee to give in, falling into his arms. He huffed as he held tightly onto you, shaking his head.

"Yeah, no, that's not happening. Come on. Also, why the fuck are you burning up? You are literal ice!" His eyebrows furrowed at the sound of a whine. Did he imagine it? Maybe he did. He freed one hand to slide your door open and—

What the actual fuck?

Sweet. Strong. Peachy. Vanilla. Caramel. All of those scents were mixed together, and it made him lightheaded, as if he were drunk. He felt his abdomen cramp, and he was feeling his teeth ache as the fangs threatened to come out. There was an Omega here. An unmated one. You had an Omega?

That was making him angry. That was making him growl. No, you couldn't have an Omega. You cannot have one. He didn't have one, so you shouldn't either. You shouldn't. You should be a lonesome Alpha, just like he was.

Your eyes widened at the reaction, gulping heavily as you tried to rip yourself away from him, but his hand held you tighter around your waist. You winced, looking up at him with clouded eyes. His irises were on fire, staring down at you, almost with hatred, with disapproval, with disappointment, and also a hint of sadness.

"You have an Omega?" He asked through gritted teeth. You sighed heavily, shaking your head slowly.

"Take me to my room, Johnny…" He wanted answers. He needed them. His mind and his Alpha were yelling at him to rip those answers out of your tongue, but he knew you were in pain. You were going through something he didn't know about. A sickness that Reed was probably treating you. Or maybe your rut.

If it was your rut… Johnny had never been with an Alpha, but he would make an exception.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he snapped out. What the hell was he thinking? Sleeping with another Alpha? You of all people? No. No, that isn't happening. He helped you walk inside, and the scent was only growing stronger at each step you two took. He couldn't help the small little sparks that were igniting at his fingertips, making you wince. He was trying to calm down, but he didn't want to go into your room and encounter someone else.

He gulped, his free hand opening your bedroom door, and he stood frozen at the frame, holding you close. The only sound in the room was your jagged breath, your small winces, and also the hint of some pained whines at the back of your throat. Johnny's eyes were wide in shock, staring at your bed.

A perfectly done nest was on the mattress. He would think it was from another person, another Omega, if it weren't for the fact that he could smell his family. He smelled his sister, Reed, Ben… even himself. This wasn't some random Omega's nest. This… was yours.

He slowly faced you, your eyes connecting to his. He finally saw the blown out pupils, the trembling bottom lip, and the scent around the room enveloped you perfectly. The beast inside him rumbled with triumph, but his mind was still hazed with confusion, with questions.

"You're an Omega." He finally said, and you huffed, gaining some strength to move away from him so you could limp to your bed and into your nest. You felt your body burning up, your power doing nothing to put it out. You thought you wouldn't feel the heat as strongly because of your new powers, but you were mistaken. You crawled to the middle of the bed, taking your shoes off and feeling your belly cramp slowly.

"Yeah… I am." You breathed out, and Johnny just stood there, his head tilting as he inspected you all over. His jaw clenched as he took a deep breath of your scent in. He frowned, catching the whiff of the Alpha scent he always smelled on you.

"But… you smelled… like an Alpha, it makes no sense at all." This was not the time to give answers to him, but he was not going to leave if you didn't give them to him. But you didn't want him to leave. You didn't want Johnny to leave your side, not now.

"I wanted to be a scientific researcher… As you know— Shit…" You huffed a breath in, lurching forward as your belly hit you with one strong cramp, your lungs being filled by Johnny's scent. He moved towards you, his hands in the air, but he stopped himself before crossing your nest. He can't do that unless invited in. He growled lowly at that.

"Omegas cannot be researchers…" He continued, and you nodded, wiping the sweat off your forehead, and you started unbuttoning your cardigan, needing to take your clothes off. Johnny gulped heavily, his throat going dry as he stared at you.

"So, I invented a scent replacer. I never told anyone except Reed. I mixed the chemicals for scent blockers with Alpha DNA. I used it to get my job." You coughed, your cunt clenching around nothing, trying not to let the slick come out of you, trying not to embarrass yourself more than you've already had. "And then, I kept hiding it— If enemies knew my designation, they would use that against me."

Johnny stood there, completely stunned at your explanation. It made sense. It really did. In this decade, Omegas were greatly discriminated against, deeming them as useless or hormonal. It was just excuses to make Alphas a superior designation. It was bullshit, and you were proof of that.

"You managed to trick so many Alphas… even me." You managed to let a chuckle out, your throat closing up more and more as you nodded. Your eyes found his, and his chest was heaving up and down as you lay there, right in front of him. Shit, if he didn't leave, you would do something you would regret, or more likely, he will.

"Please… I can— I can take care of myself—" It was a lie. You knew it was. You have an Alpha in your room, an Alpha you admire, an Alpha you found delectable in every way possible. An Alpha that caught your attention in more than one way. And he knew it, he knew you wanted him here, because your slick was coming out of you, and he could fucking smell it.

"I am not leaving." His eyes were strong, determined, staring your way. Your heart picked up a pace, and he knew he should fly away, but— His eyes caught something else. Something that was near your pillow. Your eyes widened as he walked around your bed, heading towards the top of your nest, leaning over to make sure he was seeing right.

"P-Please— Don't judge me—"

"You stole my clothes? My underwear?" Your eyes filled with shameful tears, mixing with the proud part of your Omega that wanted to say that it did. That you had his underwear on your nest, want to show him your devotion, and that you were available for an Alpha like him. But he hated you, and you had to remind yourself of that. He would reject you without a second glance your way.

"I— I needed it because— I have no family, so, I need items from my pack—"

"My dirty underwear, ice princess?"

Silence filled the room as you two stared at one another. You didn't know what else to say. You didn't know what else you could tell him to not sound creepy or disgusting. You were a horrible Omega. You should be ashamed of yourself. He didn't want you like that. This Alpha didn't see you as anything else but an enemy, someone he had to defeat.

He didn't see underwear from any of his other friends, just his. His chest puffed up with pride, with the knowledge that you wanted him. That an Omega like yourself wanted an Alpha like him. He felt himself start to strain in his pants as his eyes roamed over your exposed shoulders. His pupils dilated completely, the blue in his irises slowly disappearing, and you could feel the shift in the room.

Your hivemind started to slowly take control, enjoying how his musk started to fill the room. How his scent started to spike with arousal. You wanted to seduce him, you wanted to show off to him, you wanted him to spend the heat with you. Johnny took off his jacket, throwing it onto the floor as he rounded the bed again, his fingers tracing along the edge of the nest.

"And Reed knew. My sister too." You nodded slowly, gulping the little bit of saliva you had as you stared at his biceps, his exposed skin.

"Y-Yes… He helped with keeping my status hidden…" Johnny nodded a bit, the puzzle slowly coming together in his mind. He always wanted to protect you. He never wanted to see you hurt. He always looked around the room for you. He always sought you out. He always wanted to be in your line of sight. He always wished you weren't an Alpha, and not because you were a threat to him.

But because he wanted you.

He wants you.

He is getting you.

He is having you.

And he is going to brand you as his.

"Invite me in, Omega." Your body shivered at the request. You looked down at your nest, knowing that once Johnny crosses, everything would change. Everything would be different. But you couldn't think of any consequences right now. All you could do was bend your knees up and slowly spread your legs for him. Your scratches and your bruises are a thing of the past now as you looked up at him with hope in your teary eyes.

"Come in, Alpha…" Your voice was so sweet. It was so soft on his ears, and it was as if you had just said the most beautiful thing in the world. He took off his sneakers, kicking them away, as his body began to burn in temperatures that he didn't know if he was controlling or not. His eyes zeroed in on your covered cunt, and he could now distinctly smell your slick, just gushing out of you, desperately searching for him.

His brain was clouding; the only thing he now knows is that you are an Omega in need. An Omega that needs him, that wants him, that wants to be knotted by him. And he will comply. He will give you what your body craves.

He made sure to kneel over your nest, not wanting to break the beautiful, safe place you made for yourself. He was so proud of you. He was so amazed by how you took clothes under everyone's noses. Or maybe just his. If Reed and Sue knew, you were probably given the clothes willingly. He crawled your way, towering over you as you lay back on the bed. Your cheeks heated up, unable to use your powers willingly to cool yourself down.

"When did you take my stuff?" He asked, his hand moving to the crook of your neck, where a patch of scent blocker was. He gripped the edge of it and ripped it off, making you moan at the sudden pain.

"When— When you were training…" He hummed, dipping his head into your neck to inhale your natural scent, finally. You smelled so good, and you hid it from him. You hid this beautiful and perfect aroma from his lungs. He growled at you, making a whine get caught in your throat. "Are you mad?"

"A little… But because you hid from me… If only I knew you were an Omega… Fuck—" His hips immediately crashed against yours, and you could feel how hot he felt. How strained he was. You purred underneath him, and his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure at the sound. "You sound so good…"

He could hardly contain himself, the need to claim you increasing by the second. He wanted to rip your clothes away, burn them to ashes. You trembled underneath him as your hands slowly moved to grip his sides, trying to make him move against you. You needed more friction; you needed to feel him more.

"I want you, Johnny… Please…" And he was already in your nest. He was already here, but something inside of him was telling him to stop. Something inside of him, probably the rational part, was telling him that this should be done differently.

"Wait— Wait…" He took a deep breath in, trying to calm the fire inside of him. You whined in need, but he growled back, telling you that you had to listen to him. You pouted, biting your bottom lip as you stared up at him, your puppy dog eyes making his body shiver. "You have no idea how much you have irked me these past months…"

You pondered a bit, fighting against your instincts as best you could. You had to answer him, make him understand, and believe in your words. You moved up, brushing your lips against his, and then pecking them softly. A shock of electricity ran down both your bodies, only to be broken by you lying back down again.

"Didn't mean to…" And he groaned loudly, clenching his jaw tightly as he tried to keep his composure when your hips brushed against his. His eyes went to the top of your head, where his underwear sat nicely, his musk right next to where you always sleep.

"But it seems you have always been my biggest fan, haven't you, princess?" You gasped when his lips brushed against your ear, feeling the hot breath right on your skin. You nodded desperately as your slick started coming out of you in gushes.

"Mhm— I didn't— I didn't mean to like your scent that much, I'm sorry—" You apologized, even if you didn't regret your actions. He shook his head, his teeth coming to nip your earlobe as he ran his hands over your sides, his heat transferring to your body.

"Shh, it's okay, I'm not mad…" You whined when a cramp hit you in your belly. Having an Alpha on top of you, the one you have been craving the most, was making you go a little feral than usual. The one Alpha you had been closest to for the past months. He pulled away to look down at you, seeing how worked up you were, and fuck, he loved seeing you like this. Finally, in his arms, like he always pretended he didn't want.

"Johnny, I need— You don't have to—" You could barely talk, you could barely think, but you knew there was a line. You knew that whatever happened after this would change your life entirely, as well as his. The problem was, Johnny didn't commit. You knew about his reputation. You knew about his night rounds.

"But I want to." He confessed, and you whined, wanting to believe it, wanting to have him, but you didn't know how you would be after he helped you with your heat. He could move on to the next Omega without sparing a second glance your way.

"I won't— I won't be able to forget… I— I will be ruined…"

Those words made something inside him twist. He had been with Omegas before, but they were always flirty, salacious, trying to get his knot with sweet and enchanting words. He had knotted a few, but he never felt a connection whatsoever. He never found someone interesting, but then, you came.

You caught his attention, even if in a bad way, you still had his eyes on you. He never looked twice at the same person, but you were different. You were so different. You never tried to seduce him. You never tried to be sexy for him. You always played the part with your bantering, talking back to him, shoving the magazines you were in in his face.

And he secretly loved it. He had all your magazines in his drawer, and he had dedicated many nights with his own hand to you. He wanted to ruin you, like he ruined the pages of those magazines you were in. He wanted to ruin you for everyone else. He wanted to mark you. He wanted you to be his and only his. He always did.

"Then let me ruin you." Flames extended on his back as he leaned down to take your lips with his. He kissed you desperately, wantonly, as if you were the oxygen that would keep him alive. You moaned into the kiss, holding onto his sides, making sure not to touch his back and burn yourself.

He concentrated on putting the flames out, succeeding with just luck, his hips rutting against yours, feeling the dampness coating the hard bulge in his pants. Your arms moved to wrap around his shoulders as the kiss intensified, purring into his mouth with delight. He tasted like everything you thought he would. Like roasted marshmallows.

You didn't want Johnny to be an Alpha you craved. It was unexpected, and you were taken aback by that. You thought that maybe playing his game, you would grow to despise him, too. You would learn not to look. You would learn not to smell the room he was in, trying to etch his scent in your system. Futile. You knew it was when you found the basket of dirty clothes while Herbie was loading the washer. The moment you saw the robot look away, your hand stretched out and gripped those boxers without a thought.

You smuggled those while Reed got you clothes from the group without them noticing. They thought they got lost in the washer, or Herbie did, but they were in fact in the comfort of your home. At the top of your bed. Whenever you came home, you shamefully rubbed your nose onto it, the comfort washing over you instantly.

You couldn't bother to feel disgusting, not when his scent gave you the calmness you needed to survive your days. And now, he was on top of you, kissing you fervently, burning intensely all over. You could feel his hands warming the sides of your body as they roamed freely, and you couldn't help the purrs vibrating in your throat.

He moaned into your mouth, his cock starting to strain in his pants, aching to come out. It was weird to feel you so hot under his fingertips. Even when he stood close to you, you felt cool; the air around you was cold. Now, you were burning up in a good way. In a way, he could fix.

His hips rutted against yours as he licked your bottom lip, and you let his tongue slip in to dance against yours. Your arms pulled him closer as you hugged him around his shoulders, your legs wrapping around his waist to push him harder against you. You could feel your belly turning, pussy clenching around absolutely nothing as your clit was rubbed perfectly, thanks to the friction.

You tasted so good. Perfect. Just like your natural scent. That hidden scent he could always smell in the background, mistaking it for a perfume. His hands came up to cradle your face, his hips starting to move harder, faster, dry humping in a way that was making the two of you see stars. It felt right. It felt so good.

Your heat was starting to control your body, your impulses. You wanted more. Your nails gripped the back of his shirt, pulling on it desperately. He pulled away, breathlessly, kneeling up between your legs, and he threw a hand back to grab onto the shirt, taking it off with one movement.

He was sculpted, and he looked gorgeous as you saw his eyes shining for a second as he took a look at your body. You looked disheveled, and the only thing he had done was kiss you stupid and dry hump you. His hand gripped your tank top, bunching it up in his fist. He smirked at your surprised face, and then the smell of fabric burning. He burnt it just enough to be able to rip it apart from your body, even the straps.

Your body jerked at the sensation, moaning at the dominance of the Alpha before you. Your eyes sparkled with need, tears of pleasure and desperation starting to form in your waterline. His eyes scanned your exposed chest, braless, and he felt the tip of his cock ache, so he grabbed his belt, undoing it quickly with a groan and throwing it to the side. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper, a sigh of satisfaction leaving his lips.

"I can barely contain myself…" He moaned out as he leaned back down, his lips coming to kiss your collarbone, tasting your sweat on his tongue. He quickly pecked down, kissing the top of your left breast, before taking your nipple into his mouth. You gasped, jerking your body up into him, your back arching as you felt his tongue around you. It was hot, as if melted wax was being poured on your sensitive bud.

"Don't— God, please don't—" You begged. You didn't want him to hold back at all. He tutted against your nipple, his teeth coming to nibble against it, giving it a pull, making you gasp.

"Hold on, Omega."

"No, no, please— It hurts, I need it—" You tried again, your mouth now mumbling things you didn't mean to say. Things you didn't think through. He growled at you, and suddenly you felt your legs burning, making you cry out, spreading them away from him.

"You want me to be rough?" You nodded desperately, and he tilted his head to the side, kneeling up again, separating himself from you. You whined at the loss of touch, but then your eyes widened as your entire room lit up, and he ignited in flames from the waist up. Your mind just kept going and going:

Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.

A perfect one. To keep you safe. To give you a nest. To give you everything you wanted.

His hands stopped their flames, gripping your leggings as well as your underwear, and he suddenly pulled harshly, making you hold onto your sheets below you so you wouldn't be pulled as well. Your clothes were taken off roughly, and finally, you could feel a bit of cold air hit your skin. Cold air was replaced by the extreme heat that Johnny was producing in the room.

You felt suffocated, but it felt good. So good. Your legs spread for him again, trying to present yourself to the Alpha before you. His eyes fell to your can, which was dripping from your slick and going down onto the mattress. His mouth watered, his panting increased as his teeth hurt once again with the need for his fangs to come out.

He carefully moved down, his flames slowly starting to go out the lower he got to the mattress. His arms were now back to normal, wrapped around your thighs as his face got closer to your center. You could feel the extreme heat coming on your cunt, his head still engulfed in flames, looking up at you with burning irises and pupils. You were breathing heavily, looking down, begging at him with your eyes as you clenched around nothing.

His flames finally got put out completely, and his face dipped down to lick a long stripe along your folds. Your back arched as your hands gripped the sheets below you. A loud relieved moan escaped you, his tongue burning you in the most delicious of ways. He growled at the taste of your slick, and when he sucked on your clit he knew he was the one who got ruined.

What a turn of events. He now knew there wouldn't be anyone else like you. No one could look like you. No one could taste like you. No one could compare to you at all. Fuck, your slick was cold. He thought he felt it burning his crotch before, but now it was cold. It felt so fucking good. The contrast of his heat with your coolness was making his tip leak with precum.

His fingers dug into your thighs, making sure to leave his digits marked on you. You were probably getting third-degree burns with them, but they felt too good to say something about it. He ate you out like a man starved. You could hear him slurping on you, kissing your clit, and his moans vibrating into your cunt. Your belly turned as it complained for more. You were so greedy, but you couldn't help yourself.

"M—More… Please, more, Johnny…" You quietly begged, and he sneered a bit, pulling out of your cunt, getting a hand between your legs, teasingly pressing his fingers through your hold, but not pushing in.

"Not what I want to hear." You whined, moving your hips against him, and he growled, his teeth coming to bite on your left inner thigh. You cried out, your hand coming to grip his head to push him away. His eyes were sharp, challenging. You gulped, nodding with understanding.

"More, Alpha… Please…"

"Atta girl." He pressed his middle and ring fingers in, slowly. You threw your head back into the pillow as your pussy fluttered around him. He moaned as he saw the slick just coming out of you in gushes as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, hearing the squelch of your juices against him. "So wet… So ready for your Alpha, aren't you?"

His mind was clouded now. He was forgetting who he was, and if there was anyone else in this world besides you and him. He just wanted to pleasure you. He wanted to hear you call for him, need him, and he wanted to make you his. Just his. You nodded, soft 'uh-huhs' leaving your mouth as you couldn't even think, because his tongue was back on your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

He flicked it in rapid movements with his hand, and he frowned a bit as he felt you flutter around his fingers, but also felt as if a shock of cold was sent through his hand. He paid it no mind a second later when you gripped his hair, pushing him further into you. He complied, of course. His fingers sped up, making you moan louder as your body showed him how thankful it was for what he was doing to you.

"Oh, fuck—" Tears ran down the sides of your face, drool started pooling on the side of your mouth, and you felt your body shaking slightly at each thrust, at each flick. His fingers curled inside of you, and your back arched as your spongy part was hit suddenly. He chuckled triumphantly into your cunt as he felt your reaction.

His mouth latched onto your clit, his tongue flicking it as he looked up at your reactions, his hips rutting into the mattress looking for friction. He needed to get you ready for him. He needed you to take him properly and not hurt in the process. He didn't want his Omega to be in pain.

His Omega?

"Alpha!" Your pussy fluttered around him the moment he got his index finger in, now three fingers deep inside of you. He moaned as he kept your right thigh separated from his face, keeping you spread. You panted, jagged breaths coming out of you as your body jerked a few times, feeling your belly cramp every three seconds.

"Cum." He mumbled into your pussy, desperate to taste your climax. You gasped on a choked-up moan, your mouth opening in a silent 'O' as you furrowed your eyebrows at the feeling, staring at the ceiling. You were seeing white as you clenched tightly around his fingers, his tongue flicking your clit as he relentlessly thrusted in and out of you, abusing your g-spot.

Your slick covered his entire hand, then his wrist, because it was coming out like a waterfall on him. It was exquisite. You were amazing. Your hand was gripping his hair forcefully, and for the first time ever, he didn't care if he went bald. Not if it was you the one who ripped his hair out. He would be proud to know it was because he gave you this pleasure no one else could.

He slowly pulled his fingers out of you as he felt you unclench, your body relaxing back into the mattress. He gave a few kitten licks to your clit, making you jerk your hips at him. He dipped down, licking your juices and drinking them up with delight. Fuck. He straightened up, licking his fingers clean, and you watched through teary eyes, half lidded, your chest moving up and down as you came down from your high.

His pupils dilated as his cock twitched. The fire inside him ignited, worse than before. His eyes fell on you, splayed out like that in front of him. He never felt like this. Never this feral. This animalistic. He now knew the reason, as your arms reached up for him, begging him to go back to you.

Yeah, you are his Omega.

He stood up from the bed, making sure again not to disrupt your nest, and he took his pants off as quickly as he could. Then, his boxers followed. At that, you sat up, your nose flaring as you saw the precum stain that was perfectly shown on the blue fabric. You gulped, licking your lips as your Omega purred with need. He tilted his head, lifting his boxers up to your face.

"Want them?" You nodded up at him, kneeling up in front of him. Your hand moved to grab onto the boxers, and he continued before letting go, "Show your Alpha what you did with the ones you stole."

You licked your lips, looking down at the hard, aching cock that was in front of you. Your eyes became heart-shaped as drool pooled in your mouth. Without noticing, you had started to lean forward, your tongue lolling out to have a lick at it. You were stopped by a hand coming to grip your chin, your eyes jerking open as heat invaded the room again, the temperature rising alarmingly.

His upper body was engulfed in flames again, except for the hand holding your chin. He leaned close to your face, and even if you knew you were going to burn, you felt the need to lick him. To feel those burning lips against yours.

"Show me." You hummed as he let go of your cheeks, and you immediately put his boxers into your nose, inhaling the damp patch with a moan. He smelled good, making you purr into the fabric. You felt his hand grab onto your head, and you looked up at him with needy eyes that made his body tremble.

You took your tongue out and you licked the wet spot on it. You tasted the precum on your tongue, even if it was just a bit. It made your pussy clench around nothing, your belly sending a shock through your body as goosebumps rose from your skin.

"Alpha…" His chest was on fire, and he could hardly control it. He guided your head towards his cock, and your eyes widened, gripping it with your free hand, feeling the girth of it around your fingers. You whimpered at the feeling of it, tongue licking the tip of it, taking that little bead of precum into your mouth.

You tasted it, delighted yourself in it, closing your eyes in ecstasy. Johnny was losing his mind. He had to try to calm down before he sets your house on fire, and the entire building with it. If only he had known that this was going to happen, he would have done this in his fireproof room.

But when you took his cock into your mouth, he felt himself go crazy. He never had this problem before. He never had to worry about his flames, because he could control them. But not here. Not with you. His cock felt like it was burning, and he tried to pull your head back, afraid he was going to cause pain to you.

And then, he felt it.

Cold.

Your mouth was cold. He jerked his hips involuntarily against you, and he looked down to see your eyes being engulfed in that light blue sparkle whenever you used your power. How? Shit, he couldn't think of the reason for it, because you started bobbing your head back and forth, slurping on his dick as if it were the most delicious thing you've ever tasted.

"Fuck—" He moaned as his flames started to dim, his body steaming up as he came back to normal. He rolled his head around his shoulders as he felt your tongue licking all over his dick. He was twitching and he could feel his abdomen contracting with need. He won't be able to enjoy this much longer. He couldn't. There was no time.

He grabbed your head, pulling it back, his cock coming out of your mouth with a 'Pop!'. Drool dripped down your chin as you looked up at him. Your eyes turned back to normal, and you probably didn't even realize what you did to him. He leaned down to take your lips with his, tasting himself, and normally, he wouldn't do it, but fuck, he couldn't control his body at all with you.

You moaned into his mouth, but your own need was clawing at you. You pulled away, moving to put his pair of boxers at the top of your nest, right next to the old ones. You tucked them nicely, and Johnny's chest rumbled with pride at seeing you take care of your nest. You were such a good Omega. So perfect. A perfect match for him.

"Johnny, please— Lay down…" Your request surprised him, but he wasn't going to complain. He wanted to ravish you, and he could do that on top, but it seemed that you needed something else.

He followed the instructions, and you moved so he could lie down on the bed. You straddled him, his hands coming to rest on your hips. He never thought he would be in this position, at least not with you, and much less sexually. Even if he had imagined it many times, the thought of sleeping with another Alpha wasn't much to his liking. But you weren't one.

So he could enjoy this.

Your cunt rubbed against his cock, lubing it up with your own slick. Your head rolled over your shoulders as you sighed, loving the warm feeling that was coming out of him. He gulped heavily, trying to contain himself from lifting you up and slamming his cock inside of you with one thrust. He saw your hands coming to scratch at his chest, and he winced, seeing your eyes turn into a bright light blue for a second, and his body jerked a bit as a cold shock ran through his entire spine.

Your body got in between your bodies, gripping his cock and guiding his cock to your dripping pussy. You bit your bottom lip and threw your head back as you slowly sank down on him. You choked on your moans as he filled you up, and Johnny's veins were about to pop from how much blood was flowing throughout his body. His neck was bright red, his fingertips dug into your hips, probably scratching some of your skin off, but you didn't care.

"Oh fuck…" He cursed out loud, and you couldn't control your body as it slammed itself down onto him, hips crushing into his. Your eyes widened as you cried out, feeling him in the deepest part of you. You could almost feel him in your throat. He yelled your name for the first time in the night, and a shiver ran down your spine, making you flutter around his entire length.

You rolled your hips to adjust to him, sighing with delight as you made a perfect O against his pelvis. He felt so good. He felt so perfect. You hoped he felt the same way about you. You wanted to be unforgettable to him. You wanted him to choose you. To want you.

He cursed under his breath, trying to keep his eyes open to look at the way you moved on top of him. He felt his fingertips burning, and he moved them away from you for a second, feeling like he was gonna burst into flames at any second and hurt you. But fuck, he could barely hold on to a thread of rationality. It's been a while since he had been intimate, much more knotted someone. So forgive him for becoming a little feral at this turn of events.

Your hands slammed on his chest, and you finally started moving up, to then thrust back down on him. Your wetness fell all over the shaft and down to the base, and the squelching sound was loud, ringing into his ears. His hands came back to grip your hips once he felt his fingertips cooling a bit, guiding you up and down as groans escaped his lips.

You started picking up a pace, your instincts taking over, your eyes glazing over as you looked up at the ceiling. You began to mumble between your moans as the tip of his cock hit you just right, over and over. Johnny was choking on his spit as he let you use him the way you wanted, the way you needed.

"Alpha, Alpha, Alpha—" You kept saying it, you kept crying it out, and his fingers started to brand into your skin. Literally. You were barely feeling it, he knew it, your mind too gone to realize what was happening to him.

"You feel so good, shit—" He moaned your name again, and your hips circled against him once more as you slammed down on his hips. Your eyes found his, and you smiled with drool dripping out of the corner of your mouth, a hint of blue shining in your eyes.

"Johnny, baby…" Oh, you shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have used a pet name on him. He planted his feet on the bed, raising his hips up, and his eyes turned bright orange, flames filling them as he started thrusting in a rough and hard manner, making you bounce on him as your mouth fell open. Your eyebrows furrowed as the pleasure took over you, your pussy fluttering around him.

There was the smell of something else, something mingling between both of your scents. Something was burning, and it wasn't his musk. It was actual fabric burning. But he didn't stop. He didn't stop his thrusts, and you were holding yourself against his chest as you looked down at him. He felt scorching hot under your fingertips, his teeth bared at you as he growled in pleasure.

"This is what you wanted, Omega?" You nodded pathetically as he relentlessly railed into you, taking whatever he wanted from you as your belly turned in pleasure and your skin started to grow goosebumps. He gave a particular harsh thrust, making you snap out for a second. "Answer."

"Yes! Yes!" He was being selfish; he knew this, but he couldn't help himself.

"And just me, right? You just wanted me." It wasn't a question. And you couldn't deny it, not now. So you nodded again, mumbling out as best as you could.

"Yes, just you, Alpha. Just you, Johnny." He stopped his movements and quickly sat up, his arms engulfing you completely. His nose flared, and he looked over his shoulder as you tried rolling your hips against him. He growled, but his eyes widened, seeing the shape of his back and head imprinted onto the pillow and mattress. He burned so much that he branded himself into your nest.

Fucking great.

He flipped the two of you over, slamming you against the mattress, and you could feel how warm it was underneath you. You were too cock drunk to care. Feeling way too good to even think of how dangerous all of this was.

Either way, he didn't even give you a second, that he was holding onto the back of your knees, spreading you wide open so he could continue ravishing you. You could barely hold on to your own thoughts, becoming animalistic as you cried for him. You could feel a lot of emotions rushing over you, and something you couldn't pinpoint.

And Johnny wasn't thinking clearly anymore. He could feel himself getting close, the threat of his knot expanding rather close. This was a mistake. He was going to hurt you. Fuck, he was going to burn you alive. But he couldn't stop himself. This never happened to him, but he could feel it. He will burst into flames, his entire body.

He kept moving, hearing your sweet moans, only driving him even more insane. His eyes never turned back to normal, and that was a bad sign. He trembled all over as he tried to gain control of himself again, but he couldn't. He had to stop, but he didn't want to. He growled at himself as he started going harder, snapping his hips against yours, making you jerk into the bed.

"I— Princess, I'm going to hurt you— I have to stop!" He didn't want to, not even when you whined loudly, your eyes widening as your arms wrapped around his body. You shook your head, tears forming as he kept moving.

"N-No! Please, Alpha, I need it!" You begged, and he closed his eyes tightly, and your pussy started clenching around him, not letting him move that much. He felt his stomach turning, his climax close, and his heart was slowly gaining more and more temperature.

"I will hurt you! I will burn you alive!" And you shook your head desperately, your legs wrapping around his waist so he wouldn't leave. Fuck. You were too cock drunk. You were insane. He was insane. And he was close. He was so fucking close.

His knot started to enlarge at the base, starting to slip in and out of you, and you were moaning desperately, purrs escaping you, and he was breathing heavily as his heart was coming out of his mouth. You gasped, clenching your eyes tightly for a second, and your orgasm hit you.

"Alpha!" And your pussy clenched tightly, and he couldn't hold back. His knot hit inside, enlarging and locking himself into you as he started cumming. He was burning up, and this was it. He looked down at you with a worried frown, and flames started to slowly engulf his body, your arms and legs covering them. He was going to burn you alive, and he couldn't stop it. Panic rose inside of him—

And then you opened your eyes.

Light blue bright spheres looking back at him, and then he felt the cold. You froze over as you came, intense bursts of steam filling the entirety of the room, your body turning into a bright blue, the same color as ice. He moaned your name as he felt relief, and then he felt you milking him, making him cum one more time inside of you. You were his counterpart. You were the perfect match for him, despite being completely opposites.

There was a smell of burnt fabric, of humidity thanks to the steam, and obviously the scent of pure and obscene sex. He finally calmed down, his flames slowly disappearing from his body, and his eyes returned to their normal blue hue as he looked down at you, his breath hitting your face. You matched his breaths, your eyes returning to their natural color as well, and your body turned back to normal.

There was silence, water all over your bodies thanks to the steam, and probably some sweat. You didn't think you would gain your power back while in heat, but it seems as if your Omega knew it had to match Johnny's Alpha. You looked at one another, nervously, unsure.

And then the fire alarm started going crazy.

You groaned loudly as you shot an icicle its way, breaking it completely. Johnny turned to look over his shoulder, and then back at you. He didn't know what to say for a second, licking his lips and gulping.

"So, uh… That— Yeah, that happened." He cringed at what he just said. He had his knot deep inside of you, and that was the best he could come up with? Johnny was rarely ever speechless, but you made him nervous. Another first.

"I— Yeah…" He could see your embarrassment, looking around the room and wincing as you saw some burnt walls, but then sighing with relief as all the clothes in the nest were safe, without suffering any harm from both of you.

His eyes inspected you, and he knew that there was never going to be an Omega that could match him. You were the perfect one. You could handle him in every single way possible. No other Omega would have survived him if he had gone feral with them, but you… He wasn't going to let you go. No. And he would court you.

"You know that I loved every second of it, right?" You didn't know how much you needed to hear that, your eyes turning to look at him. Blue irises that were honest, filled with emotion. Long gone was the dislike he had for you. "I only disliked you… because I wanted you."

Your eyes widened when you heard that. You were confused because it wouldn't make sense. You were not acting like an Omega, so—

"But I had the Alpha scent blocker…"

"I know, I know, that's the problem. I wanted an Alpha. I wanted to protect an Alpha, and that— That was bullshit, because princess, you have been taking every single sponsorship out of my hands, and that made me mad too." You stared at the man before you, and you couldn't help the laughter that escaped you, actual cackles as he looked at you, completely offended. "I'm being serious here!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry— I shouldn't laugh—" He growled at you, but a smile displayed on his lips, coming to place a kiss on your cheek. That made you calm down, a smile staying on your face.

"Maybe now you can move to the headquarters… With me." His lips trailed down to your neck, and you could feel yourself purring at the affection. His hands ran all over your body as you held onto him around his shoulders. "My bedroom is fireproof… Furniture included."

"How convenient…" You sighed out, and he pulled away to look down at you. He stared around the nest, smiling.

"Of course, moving your nest too." You smiled, nodding at him. His lips pecked yours in a sweet kiss, and electric shocks ran down both of your bodies. He pulled away, and his nose kept touching yours, not really separating from you. "Deal?"

"Deal." You were happy. You had a good feeling about this. You had visions of what it would be like to live your days with an Alpha like Johnny. Challenging, but happy nonetheless. He stared at you for a moment, and then he straightened up slightly, becoming a little more serious.

"Okay, but hear me out— How about you include me in that refrigerator commercial?" You frowned, mouth opening.

"Johnny, you are literally fire! What does that have to do with refrigerators? Also, that's my sponsor!" He groaned loudly and shook his head.

"Don't remind me, BUT THINK ABOUT IT! You could be presenting the newest model, you open the fridge door, and BAM, I'm there, steaming up, and I go, 'It could even cool me down!'" He smiled down at you, eyes sparkling with emotion, goofiness. This was the Alpha you were choosing.

"… That's actually not a bad idea."

"Told you."

end