A/N - Hello hello! Long time, no post! A lot has happened since I last posted in this book (a lot of very adult, real-world, work-related stuff that's far too boring for me to go into detail). Still, I'm finally back on my writing vibe, with the teeniest hint of motivation, and it just happened to happen right as they announced the release dates for the 5th and final season of Stranger Things. To celebrate, here's a short little Eddie fic semi-inspired by the song Too Much Ain't Enough by Arthur Hill. I hope you all enjoy it.
Eddie could have sworn that if he had ever met one of your ex-boyfriends, he would come out of the interaction with a murder charge. In fact, he would happily put whatever douchebag had made you feel like you were ever too much in the ground, over and over again, until the day you forgot the pain they had caused you.
After all, you were possibly the most incredible person he had ever met. You were funny, and sweet, and passionate about the things you loved, and sometimes, when you got real excited about something, so excited that you forgot to be self-conscious, you were like the goddamn Energiser Bunny. And fuck, Eddie loved it more than anything else. He adored listening to you rambling about whatever had piqued your interest, watching as you vibrated with excitable energy, pacing around the sitting room of his apartment like you physically couldn't sit still anymore.
And then, it was like you would suddenly realise that you were still talking. Like you would suddenly notice that Eddie was watching you. And you would stop moving, your eyes fixed to your hands, picking at your nails as the embarrassment washed over you. Your words would trail off, replaced with a soft, "I don't know," and a small shrug as your teeth burrowed into your bottom lip, and then the topic would be over, and Eddie's heart would shatter.
He knew better than to push, to pry into the exact cause of your insecurity, but he'd heard enough in the little comments from your friends to know that your ex boyfriend had been an asshole.
She seems so much more herself with you. || You finally look happy. Like, really happy. || We all knew she deserved better, it just took her a while to see it, too, you know? || I like this one, he seems kind.
And sure, it had boosted his ego a little, after all, no one had ever thought of Eddie as a good option back in Hawkins, but it had also left him longing to live up to the expectations your friends had set for him. He wanted to prove that he deserved you, that he was better for you, that he was as kind and gentle with you as you needed him to be.
"Hey," Eddie hummed one night, as the first tell-tale signs of your shutdown began, and your eyes had flickered up from your fingers to look at him. "Tell me more," he pressed, smiling softly at you.
"Ed, you don't want to hear about soviet tank drivers-"
"Of course I do," he interjected, sitting forward slightly. "Especially when they're as badass as Mariya was," he pressed on.
You hesitated for a moment, shifting on the spot as if you were internally fighting yourself, caught between trusting what Eddie was saying and letting the insecurities win.
"I mean, come on, Sweetheart, this already sounds like a Hollywood movie in the making, and you've barely scratched the surface yet. I wanna know what happens next."
You swallowed down the lump in your throat, biting down on the inside of your cheek for a moment. "I don't know what to do," you finally breathed out, your eyes all wide as you watched him, like a frightened little animal.
"Oh baby," he hummed softly, immediately on his feet, only hesitating as he reached you. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, Sweetheart, I just love listening to you talk, is all."
"You do?" you murmured, stepping forward into his embrace, letting his arms wrap around you, blanketing you completely.
His brow furrowed slightly. "Of course I do," he told you, sounding borderline offended that you would ever think differently. "Love how happy you look when you're telling me about this stuff. Love how smart you are, and listening to you talk makes that big brain of yours super obvious."
You snorted softly, pressing your face into his chest.
"Honestly, Sweetheart. I love it when you explain the stuff you care about to me. It makes me feel like I'm a part of what you care about."
"You are," you hummed out, pulling back just slightly to look up at him. "I care way more about you than I do about any stupid old history lesson," you pressed on.
"I'm honoured," he told you, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. "But you know, Baby, if you keep holding out on me, then I might start to feel a little neglected," he confessed. "Gunna need you to keep telling me all about them lady tank drivers. And any other cool history ladies you discover."
You nodded slightly, taking a deep breath. "I'll try."
"That's all I'm asking, Sweetheart," he beamed, lifting his hand to brush your cheek lightly. "I love you so much," he added softly, watching your smile spread.
"Yeah?"
"More than you know, Sweetheart."
"Thank God," you hummed softly. "Because I'm pretty damn in love with you too."
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