#not work out - then Eddie will be in a position to put himself forward while letting Buck be the one to choose for himself.

[libraryofgage]

I realized Steve is absolutely that kid whose parents put him through piano lessons solely so they could have another way to show off at parties and shit. And then that thought morphed into a little Steddie plot bunny and here we are lol:

Steve doesn't know it's the last time he'll sit at the grand piano, the last time he'll press down its keys and let music fill the empty room before bleeding out into the empty house.

He doesn't know that when his parents next come home, his mother will notice how horribly out of tune the instrument is. He doesn't know that it will be sent off somewhere for repair (his parents won't tell him where, no matter how he asks, and he'll never quite understand why) and lost to him. He doesn't know his parents won't bother buying another one; it was only ever there to impress party guests when Steve sat down and played some Bach. Without those parties, company or otherwise, there's no point in getting another one: both the piano and Steve will have outlived their usefulness.

He doesn't know that he'll be storing away his sheet music, carefully placed into folders and in a waterproof box for safekeeping. He doesn't know that he'll soon become too consumed by high school and dating and monsters to idly write down notes on a staff. He doesn't know that when he's swinging a nail-ridden bat in the future (to destroy monsters, sure, but destruction is destruction, right?) he'll ache with the pain of missing the act of creation as a means of stress relief.

He doesn't know any of that, so Steve sits down at the grand piano with a soft smile, gently trailing his fingers over the keys before lining them up in the Middle C-position. He runs through a few warm-ups, letting muscle memory take him away, so he doesn't have to think. Without another thought, he seamlessly transitions into idly playing, bits and pieces of everything he remembers and songs he's heard blending together.

Mozart's Air morphs into Beethoven's Fur Elise into Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. It doesn't all sound good together, but that's not the point when Steve plays by himself. All that matters is letting his brain shut off for a bit, letting the notes and echoes mingle together to create something new and joyful.

After two hours on the piano, his wrists are aching; he always forgets to hold them in the proper position when he plays alone. But it's a good ache, one that reminds him of the music still dancing around in his brain.

Steve takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, feeling the last of his tension dissipate. He lets his hands linger on the piano for a little longer before standing and leaving the room, tragically unaware of his imminent and unavoidable loss.

--------

Steve is sprawled across an old couch in Gareth's garage, reading Eddie's well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings. He'd promised to at least give it a go, and he had to admit he was looking forward to finally understanding some of the references Hellfire Club and the kids make. His progress is slow, but he's almost halfway through after two weeks of work. Reading while Corroded Coffin practices helps; the background noise of their music is perfect, letting him ignore all other sounds and focus.

Of course, that's provided they actually play continuously instead of starting the same song over and over only for Eddie to stop them halfway through. When it happens for the sixth time, Eddie growls in frustration, tugging harshly at a lock of hair. "It still sounds wrong!" he cries, dropping into a crouch while cradling his guitar close.

"Stopping us halfway through isn't helping," Gareth points out, idly twirling a drumstick as he watches Eddie's lament.

"Do you know what's wrong yet?" Asher asks.

Steve can longer focus on Lord of the Rings. Instead, he places the book on his chest and looks at the band to watch how this plays out. Eddie scowls and looks up at Asher. "Unfortunately, Ashy Baby, no."

Jeff, meanwhile, has locked eyes with Steve. And because Jeff knows the perfect way to get Eddie off their asses is to get him on Steve's instead, he says, "Why don't you ask Harrington what he thinks?"

Eddie whips around to look at Steve, eyes wide and hopeful. He doesn't even bother standing from his crouch, instead waddling his way over to Steve and testing his ability to hold back laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. "Stevie, baby, sweetheart, lover boy, please tell me that wonderful brain of yours has an idea so your favorite boyfriend can finish this rocking song."

"You're my only boyfriend."

"Which automatically makes me your favorite," Eddie points out, grinning as he leans closer. With Steve still laying down, Eddie's the perfect height in his crouch to kiss him. He lingers for a few seconds before pulling away, and Steve knows his own smile matches the dopiness of Eddie's.

"Have you considered adding a piano?" Steve asks.

"None of us know how to play," Asher says, and Steve would look at him if Eddie's face and hair and shoulders and everything weren't filling his entire line of sight.

Without thinking, Steve hums and says, "I do."

"Do what?" Eddie asks.

"Know how to play piano."

There's a silence that follows his sentence, one that makes Steve's stomach lurch as he wonders if he's maybe fucked up the shaky peace and friendship he's finally managed to build with the other members of Corroded Coffin. He doesn't know how his words might have done it, but he's scrambling to somehow take them back when Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth, the bands of his rings pressing against Steve's lips.

"Gareth, you still got that keyboard?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked on Steve. There's a light dancing in them like he's just discovered magic is real, like Steve has amazed him beyond imagination.

With a grunt, Gareth gets up from his drums and steps into his house. The rest of them stay in silence while waiting, Eddie refusing to remove his hand no matter how much Steve licks his palm. When he finally gives up and just glares at Eddie, his boyfriend grins brightly back.

"It's a little dusty, but it'll work fine," Gareth says when he comes back, and Eddie finally moves his hand and body, allowing Steve to see Gareth setting up a keyboard a few feet away from his drums.

"Okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, taking the book from Steve and carefully setting it aside before pulling him off the couch, "you've heard the song enough. Play what's missing."

Steve hesitates before walking over to the keyboard. Eddie sticks to him like a shadow, sliding his arms around Steve from behind once he's standing in front of the white and black keys. An odd nervousness churns in Steve, tugging at his spine and making his palms clammy, but he knows it would be much worse without Eddie there. If he had to play in front of the band without feeling like anyone was on his side, he'd probably just throw up instead.

"It, uh, it's been a while," he says quietly, easily falling into the muscle memory of tracing the keys and finding Middle C and dancing his fingers through warm-ups despite his words.

Eddie squeezes him tighter as Jeff asks, "Since you've played? Why?"

Memories of his grand piano rise in Steve unbidden, overwhelming him in a rush of longing for the instrument itself and the relaxation of playing. "My parents paid for lessons and had me play at company parties. They, uh, sent it off to be tuned, but it got damaged, and they didn't get another one."

"That sucks, Stevie," Eddie murmurs, soft and reassuring and Steve suddenly feels far more confident.

He looks up at Jeff. "Can you start playing again?" he asks, flashing a grateful smile when Jeff nods and starts strumming the song's opening notes.

Steve listens closely, breathing in the tune he's heard so many times and letting it take hold. He doesn't allow himself to actually think, letting Jeff's guitar and Eddie's arms and hair and scent drown out everything else. Before he knows it, he's playing a hesitant tune that grows with confidence as he follows the song laid out before him. He's always a measure behind, chasing the guitar's echoing notes as they fade.

He and Jeff make it through the whole song without Eddie telling them to stop. When the final notes of guitar and piano echo together, the latter still chasing the former even at the end, Steve is shaking with excitement and anxiety and grief and joy.

He lets out a slow breath, feeling tension he didn't even realize had lingered for so long finally draining from his shoulders and dissipating. Steve can also feel Eddie's face pressed against his neck, a smile searing into his skin as Eddie squeezes him even tighter.

"I love you so fucking much, Stevie, that's exactly what was missing," Eddie says, his words the only warning he gives before pulling Steve away from the keyboard and off his feet and spinning him around. His surprised yelp quickly morphs into laughter that still lingers even after Eddie has set him down again.

Gareth and Jeff and Asher have already started discussing how the other parts of the song might change with the addition of a keyboard, but Steve is too busy turning in Eddie's arms and kissing his smile away to pay them any mind. He can worry about inevitably being roped into the band's practices later, after he and Eddie are breathless and flushed and smiling bright.

[steddiealltheway]

It’s basically canon that Steve gets migraines from the number of times he’s gotten concussions/beat up. Adding on to this…

Everyone has their way of helping Steve.

Robin lays next to him on the floor, holding his hand which he squeezes whenever the pain is too overwhelming.

Dustin - as he puts it - shuts the fuck up for once in his life.

El has found that the tiniest amount of radio static helps clear his head while not causing nausea.

Nancy makes him some sort of fancy chamomile tea.

Eddie… well, he hasn’t been around for one of Steve’s infamous migraines. In fact, he’s only heard about them from the others who say Steve tries to play it off as just a headache - often times leaving to suffer on his own.

Luckily, Steve doesn’t hang out alone with Eddie, so he’s determined his migraine solution would be to leave him with someone else and get out of his way. There’s no way Steve would want him around for that. And there would be nothing he could do to help.

Eddie briefly thinks back to those thoughts when, for the first time, he and Steve hang out alone. Granted, the other kids were there before, but they had all left once it got to be curfew time.

Steve had been acting… strange. More irritable than usual, going as far as snapping at Dustin when he started screaming about something. And really, that should’ve been the first sign for Eddie.

But he had just moved past that, fired up some random movie and let Steve sprawl out next to him on his couch, hands over his eyes, taking deep breaths in and out.

“Steve…?” Eddie questions gently.

He gets a quiet groan in response as Steve slowly drags his hands down his face. His eyes are slightly glossy, and he looks absolutely miserable.

“Steve,” Eddie says more firmly this time.

“I’m gonna head back,” Steve says with a wince. As soon as he stands up, he sways. Eddie steadies him and forces him to sit back down.

He desperately tries to remember what everyone else told him works, but he can’t recall anything.

“What should I do?” Eddie asks.

“No Lights. No Noise. Please,” Steve bites out gripping his head.

Eddie nods and immediately turns the television off. He scrambles to get all the lights off but there’s still a glow from the window which doesn’t have any curtains on it. Eddie looks around for a blanket or anything nearby to shield Steve’s eyes from the lights.

He’s struck with a sudden idea. Eddie sits next to Steve, leans his head forward, and presses it against Steve’s. His hair forms a curtain around them, blocking out the light.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, breath ghosting over Eddie’s lips.

Oh. Yeah, this is all kinds of invading Steve’s personal space. Shit. “Using my hair as a curtain,” Eddie replies nonchalantly.

Steve does something strange. He smiles. “It oddly helps. Thank you.”

Eddie wishes he had access to his hair so he could use it to cover his smile in response.

It’s nice - sitting so close to Steve, listening and feeling his breathing. But after a few minutes, Eddie’s back starts to cramp up from the awkward twisted position.

Steve must feel the same way because he’s suddenly laying back and pulling Eddie towards him. Eddie scrambles to keep his forehead against Steve’s and ends up laying on top of him.

Shit shit shit. There’s no way Steve is okay with this.

But then Eddie feels Steve’s fingertips tracing circles on his back, as if Steve’s the one soothing Eddie. Maybe he is.

Eddie’s hand comes up to Steve’s arm, trailing his fingers up and down in thanks.

After a while, Steve’s hand stills on Eddie’s back and his breath evens out. When Eddie’s sure that Steve’s asleep, he lifts his head up and shifts it to nestle into Steve’s neck.

A few hours later, Eddie is woken up by the squeak of the front door opening and someone awkwardly clearing their throat. Eddie finds himself to still be mostly on top of Steve who has his arms tightly wrapped around him, still asleep.

Eddie’s heart skips a beat, happy to see him so at peace after last night’s events.

“So… who’s this?” Uncle Wayne says, voice low as to not wake him.

“Steve. I was helping him with his migraine.”

Wayne’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” He teases.

Eddie flushes red unsure if he wants to remove himself from Steve and wake him up in the process, remembering how Nancy had said the migraine episodes could be triggered by a lack of sleep.

“Go back to sleep, Ed. Just… make sure to introduce him to me when he wakes up.”

“It’s not like that…” Eddie argues.

Wayne gives him a look, eyes flickering to where Steve’s arms are wrapped tightly around him, and shakes his head in disbelief. “I give it until morning,” he says with a smile on his face as he goes to his room.

“You’re wrong!” Eddie yells loud enough that he’s scared he’s woken Steve up. He looks back at Steve who softly snores, somehow still asleep. Eddie cuddles back against his side and closes his eyes, praying that his uncle is right.

He’s woken up later either by the hand running through his hair or the dull, quick sound of thudding against his ear. Eddie cracks an eye open, realizing it’s Steve’s hand in his hair and his heart that’s forming the fast rhythm.

“Hey,” Steve says with a small smile.

“Good morning,” Eddie replies immediately closing his eyes and tucking his head back into Steve’s neck to block out the sunlight.

Steve laughs. “Is that how I looked last night behind your hair?”

“Much better actually,” Eddie flirts without thinking.

Steve swallows. “Thank you for that by the way. I’ve never actually been able to sleep after…” he trails off.

His friends were right when they said Steve didn’t talk about it. Eddie squeezes Steve’s arm.

“Anytime,” Eddie says, slightly muffled, but just as sincere.

“Maybe sometime soon?” Steve suggests.

Eddie looks up. “Without you being in excruciating pain?”

Steve nods looking slightly anxious as to what Eddie’s response to the confirmation will be.

Eddie smiles wide and has to hide his face in Steve’s neck again to muffle his excited giggles. Steve joins in on the laughter.

Eddie suddenly feels Steve’s body tense up and his laughter stops.

“Glad to see you awake, would’ve been awkward meeting you while you weren’t conscious,” Wayne says.

Eddie sits up with a groan, swinging his legs over Steve’s and leaning back against the couch. Steve shoots up, trying to look presentable while his legs are trapped straight out in front of him.

“Wayne, this is Steve. Steve, this is my uncle, Wayne.”

Steve holds out his hand and firmly shakes his uncle’s hand. Eddie tries not to laugh at the interaction.

Wayne invites Steve to stay for breakfast, and he does.

After Steve leaves, giving Eddie a quick spontaneous hug, Wayne asks Eddie, “What do I always say?”

Eddie sighs, “The ‘W’ in Wayne doesn’t stand for ‘wrong.’” And thank goodness for that.

“I like him,” Wayne states casually.

“I do, too,” Eddie says with a soft smile.

“Next time, offer him an ice pack, too. That always used to help my migraines.”

Eddie’s smiles grows. Even Uncle Wayne has a migraine solution for Steve.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 38

Part 1 Part 37

Steve keeps acting like he’s perfectly fine. Like he didn’t have part of his shoulder carved off. Like he’s not suffering through an hour of glorified torture masquerading as physical therapy every day, trying to build his muscle back up. Like the doctor hadn’t told him he might still never get back to shooting hoops and swimming laps with the precision he used to. Like his ribs aren’t still broken, and he doesn’t still have trouble standing, or wake up screaming, clutching at his throat. Like he doesn’t rub the back of his head sometimes and stare into the middle distance with lost eyes. And it’s pissing Eddie off.

Especially now, as he walks beside Wayne, pushing Steve’s wheelchair down the hall toward the elevator. This in and of itself was a feat. First, Steve had argued that he didn’t need a wheelchair, then he’d argued he didn’t need help pushing it. Eddie let Steve flounder for a few minutes, trying to make his useless arm wheel him forward, angry tears springing from his eyes before he acquiesces.

The latest rub is the worst: Steve wants to go home. As if Eddie doesn’t remember the look on Steve’s face when he said he wanted to go to Eddie’s trailer. As if Eddie doesn’t remember the way Steve’s voice broke when he called the trailer home.

“The doctor said somebody needs to keep an eye on ya,” Wayne says reasonably. “Either we do it, or you can stay with Joyce. She offered to put you up.”

Steve scoffs. “My parents—”

“Aren’t home!” Eddie snaps, pushing Steve into the elevator and pushing the down button on the elevator with enough force that his finger hurts.

Steve sits up straighter in his chair, reading for a fight. Wayne doesn’t let him. “If you’re staying at that house, then so are we,” he says, implacable. “Until your parents are there to watch you.” Left unsaid, is that no one had heard from them. That Steve hadn’t asked about them at all.

Steve slumps down in a position that must be hell on his cracked ribs, sighing. “Fine,” he says, like it hurts. “I’ll stay in the trailer.”

It feels like a knife twist. Eddie wants to shake Steve and remind him he’d called it home.

It’s quick after that. Steve signs himself out at the front desk, tucking the physical therapy schedule they’d made for him into the pocket of the sweatpants Wayne had scavenged from Eddie’s drawers for Steve to wear home.

Wayne and Eddie work together to help lever Steve into the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. Wayne slides into the driver’s seat without asking, so Eddie grumbles his way into the back.

Steve’s quiet when Wayne pulls up front, quiet while they help him in, quiet when he’s settled onto the couch.

He’s looking around his surroundings just like he had the first time – like he’s amazed people live like this. That first time, he’d wanted to snarl, make sure Harrington knew that there was nothing wrong with this life he’d created with his Uncle. Now, he just thinks of Steve’s empty house, the hospital’s unanswered phone calls to his parents, and feels unbearably sad.

Wayne puts on a basketball game that Eddie doesn’t even complain about, and settles himself at Steve’s side.

Steve falls asleep halfway through the game, head falling on Eddie’s shoulder, warm puffs of air hitting the bare skin of his neck.

Wayne huffs, and Eddie looks up at him, already glaring defensively. “What?” he demands, quiet enough not to disturb Steve.

Wayne raises his hands placatingly, even as he smiles smugly over at Eddie. “I didn’t say anything.”

They all sleep in the living room that night. It’s cozy and warm, especially after Wayne drapes a blanket over them both.

It should feel weird, settling this closely to Steve, now that they’re not depending on each other to survive. Now that they’re back in the real world. But Eddie feels like he’ll fall apart if Steve’s not in sight, so maybe he’s not out of the woods after all.

It's peaceful.

It stays peaceful until the next day when it’s time for Steve’s physical therapy appointment.

“I can take myself,” he says. “I have a car.”

He’s not meeting Eddie’s eyes. Eddie takes a few deep breaths. He knows snapping won’t help anything, but he wants to smack Steve until this is easier. He just— he doesn’t get this. Can’t figure out what the problem is.

“It would take just as long to drive you to your car as it would to just drive you,” Eddie says, cleaning up their half-assed breakfast of toast a cereal off the table. He doesn’t look back at Steve, wants to play this cool and nonchalant, and he just knows one look at the obstinate tilt of Steve’s chin will send him swinging. 

“I can walk,” he says, even though he really really can’t.

Eddie slams a dish into the sink. He’s almost surprised the bowl doesn’t shatter upon impact. He scrubs it, back to where Steve is stewing in silence.

He needs to figure this out. Why Steve is being so difficult, about staying here, about Eddie feeding him and driving him. He does the hardest thing he can think of, and asks, “why don’t you want me to take you to your appointment?”

He doesn’t turn around, just keeps scrubbing the dishes like this is a casual conversation over breakfast. Because it should be.

The silence drags him down, lasts long enough that Eddie doesn’t think Steve will answer at all.

“You shouldn’t have to,” Steve says.

Eddie thinks back – big house no parents – and wonders how long it’s been since someone did something for Steve without strings. He turns around, settles back into his seat and stares at Steve until he raises his eyes from the table.

Choosing his words carefully, he says, “I want to go with you,” Eddie says. “You saved my life—"

“But—” Eddie holds up a hand, and Steve stops, brows furrowed.

“You saved my life,” he repeats, meeting Steve’s eyes. “I’m gonna help you whether you like it or not.”

It’s not quite the whole truth, but Eddie’s not sure how to touch the way it feels like worms are writhing in his stomach when Steve’s out of his sight. How his shoulders only really relax when he knows exactly where Steve and Will both are.

Eddie bites his tongue on the too much of it all.

“Fine,” Steve says, still sullen, but he lets Eddie lead him to the van and drive him to his appointment.

It looks painful. Eddie holds his crossed ankles, to stop himself from leaping up and wrenching Steve away from the doctor’s ministrations.

By the end, Steve looks like he just got done with a basketball game, sweat dripping down his forehead, pits stained. If Eddie squints, he can almost see the uncomplicated jock of days past as they limp out of the hospital.

“You wanna go see Baby Byers?” Eddie asks.

“Please,” Steve says, slumping into the passenger seat like the princess he is.

Eddie drives, turning his music up loud enough to rattle their teeth just to see Steve smile.

Part 39

[qprstobin]

the scenic route

i saw this post by @henderdads yesterday and started CACKLING at the image of eddie trying to hide from steve only to stumble across the rest of his stalkers fan club, so here it is

Ao3 link

--

Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be better than this.

He'd had more than his fair share of ill advised crushes over the years. His middle school science teacher, the entirely too-nice-for-the-popular-crowd head cheerleader, the bartender at the Hideout that he sold coke to on more than one occasion. And yet, here he was. Leering after Steve Harrington.

(Crush was maybe too strong of a word - that would imply he felt any positive emotions towards the man other than carnal lust.)

Every day at work, Eddie told himself he would take the shortest path outside for his smoke break, and every day he ended up taking the scenic route.

It was like he couldn't help himself. He'd shove his hands into his pockets, and meander his way passed the food court, trying his hardest to seem natural as his eyes strayed over to the Scoops Ahoy.

And there he was, Harrington in all his post-popularity glory. Eddie wasn't sure whose bright idea it was to put the Scoops employees in sailor suits, but he wanted to shake their hand. Or slash their tires.

The shorts clung to Harrington's thighs, somehow even thicker than they were when he was still playing sports regularly. The little hat was less flattering, causing his signature hair to fall limp beneath it, but that was fine. Eddie had seen his hair in all its glory more than enough to fill in the blanks.

As he got closer, he could see that Harrington was chatting up a female patron - typical of the high school heartthrob. It sent a pulse of jealousy and disgust through him. Harrington looked up at the girl from under his eyelashes, pulling his pink, glossy lips into a smirk.

The things Eddie would do to that mouth with half a chance.

The girl let out a laugh, turning in a whirl of curls as she giggled with her friends. He would've thought that response was a positive one if Harrington hadn't immediately let his head fall forward with a groan. Robin Buckley, the mousy band geek Gareth was infatuated with last year, popped up from the back room with a white board that seemed to be a record of all of his strikeouts.

Harsh.

Seemed even pretty privileged popular kids had trouble wooing fair maidens sometimes. Who would've thought. A feeling of satisfaction curled in his stomach - both at watching Harrington get put in his place and knowing that he was still painfully single.

He didn't let himself examine why that was.

While watching the interaction, Eddie hadn't realized he had been slowing to a stop. Until Buckley looked his way. Panic surged through him and he dove to the left, towards a gathering of potted ferns that should be leafy enough to hide him and his hair.

There was a snag in that plan - someone was already hiding there.

Eddie stumbled, arms pinwheeling as he tried to stop himself from running over three middle schoolers. Several little hands snagged the front of his shirt, keeping him from pitching backwards and falling on his ass.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ-" he cursed as he wobbled to a stop. He clamped his mouth shut, taking in the three children in front of him.

The two nearest to him were barely holding back giggles, one a boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and the other a redheaded girl who looked like she was trying to judge him but couldn't smother her mirth. Another boy with dark skin and a bandana tied around his head was looking embarrassed, crouching as close as possible to the girl as he could.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Eddie asked, unable to help himself.

"Same thing you are," Red replied with a smirk playing at her lips. He blanched.

"What."

"Eye candy," she said. It was clear what - or rather who she was referring to.

Bandana groaned softly, the embarrassment on his face deepening. Bowl Cut started giggling again. A fern was tickling Eddie's ear, and he desperately wanted to melt into the floor like the ice cream on a Scoops Ahoy cone.

Eddie didn't even bother to deny it. "You're like, 10. Aren't you a bit young for crushes?"

Red gave him an unimpressed stare.

"We're about to start high school, man," Bandana said as he wrinkled his nose. Judgment colored his tone.

"You don't look like the type to normally go for preps. So do you really have a leg to stand on?" she added.

Sheesh, the attitude on these kids.

Eddie refused to give her any ground.

"Also, I don't have a crush - I was dragged here against my will," Bandana continued.

"I can't believe my boyfriend is lying to my face like this."

"Steve's basically our babysitter, that's weird."

"I don't know," Bowl Cut piped up for the first time, "I think crushing on your babysitter is pretty normal."

Eddie's head was spinning as he tried to keep up with the back and forth. Steve Harrington was their babysitter? He pinched the inside of his wrist, convinced this whole situation was a bad trip or a surreal weed dream. It made more sense than a couple of toddlers claiming that Harrington babysat them regularly.

"I don't have a crush on him!"

"Then why do you keep asking him to 'shoot hoops' with you?" Red asked, turning her judgmental haze onto her sweating boyfriend.

"You know I'm thinking about trying out for basketball next year," Bandana said with an almost pretentious air. "I need all the practice I can get!"

"I didn't know getting smacked in the face with the ball when Steve takes off his shirt counted as practice," Bowl Cut said, a deceptively sweet smile on his face as he drove a dagger into his friend's back.

"DUDE!"

Bowl Cut and Red shushed him, tiny hands flying to cover Bandana's mouth. Eddie reflexively peeked through the fronds, checking to make sure the object of their well - their object hadn't noticed them.

(He hesitated to call him the object of their lust because the three in front of him were literally babies, but he refused to use the word affection in the same sentence as Harrington. Even if this entire conversation was throwing his carefully crafted view of the man through a loop.)

It was fine, though. Harrington and Buckley were wrapped up in their own world, chatting back and forth. If he had a heart he might even say they looked good together. Eddie's eyes strayed towards Harrington's fingers as he twirled his scooper in his hand.

He wanted to shove them in his mouth-

Not the time.

By the time he tuned back into the infants' conversation, Bandana was sulking. Clearly, he had lost, especially with how smug both Red and Bowl Cut looked. Red had even pulled out a little snack packet that she was triumphantly munching on.

"You brought snacks?" Eddie sputtered out, not sure if he was impressed or put out by the sheer balls on this little girl.

"Uh, yeah? Food court food is expensive," she said like it was a no brainer.

The balls, man.

He kinda wanted to be her when he grew up.

"Let me get this straight, you brought snacks along while you stalk your babysitter?" he asked anyway.

"I get hungry," Red said. After a moment, she rolled her eyes and pulled out another snack pack, throwing it at him. It smacked him in the face, but he managed to catch it before it hit the ground. "You're welcome."

"Thanks?" he replied automatically.

This may as well happen.

She distributed two more snack packs to her friend and her boyfriend, and the three returned to peering at Harrington through the ferns. Eddie just stared at them, once again feeling like he must have fallen into a different universe.

This whole thing was getting to be too much for him. His knees and thighs were starting to ache, and not for any particularly pleasant reason. He didn't want to know how long he had been crouched back here.

He needed to get out of here before he reached his limit. His boss may give him a lot of leeway, but he didn't want to keep pushing his luck hanging out in the food court for the rest of the day, babysitting Steve fucking Harrington's children.

Even if the view was pretty good.

"Well, this has been fun, but I need a smoke," he said finally. The three barely spared him a glance. Figuring that they were done with him, and because he didn't know how to leave well enough alone. "I'll leave you to your... stalking."

"Same time tomorrow?" Bowl Cut asked, turning that shy but cheeky grin onto him, revealing that not only had they done this before, but that they had seen Eddie here before.

Fuck. His face was turning red.

"Don't plan on it," he scoffed. The trio spared him disbelieving glances, but let him rock to his feet and start walking away without another word.

They all knew he'd be taking the scenic route again tomorrow.

[fuctacles]

Marital bliss

For @subeddieweek Day 3 | E | 1430 | cw: misogynistic roleplay | content warning banner by @cafekitsune | please tell me if I should add a tag | this is wild so bear with me as i try to explain what I just wrote:

pwp, marriage roleplay but its the 50s, wife!Eddie, free use-ish, objectification, degradation, 24/7 dynamics, conservative marriage dynamics, a hint of brat Eddie for funsies

With another loud clang of the dishes, Eddie was starting to wonder if he should be worrying about the well-being of their kitchenware. Steve would probably be disappointed in him if he broke a plate just because of his slippery fingers. And he wouldn't want to disappoint him. 

It is fun to make him angry sometimes, but that anger comes from a place of love. Not disappointment. 

He tries to put the mug he just rinsed on the rack, but his hand misses, and it lands sideways. He focuses extra hard to put it upright. There were only a couple of plates left, thankfully, so he started scrubbing on them with determination to get done as soon as possible.

"You missed a spot," Steve grunts into his ear, with a particularly hard thrust of his hips. 

Eddie presses his lips together, his grip on the plate tightening.

"Well, you're missing a spot too," he mumbles, unable to help himself. 

Steve freezes. 

"What was that?"

Uh oh.

Eddie's dick twitched while his blood turned cold.

"Nothing," he says innocently, doubling down on cleaning the plate.

Steve doesn't share his sentiment about their tableware, seemingly ready to buy all the plates and dishes that need replenishment, because he pulls him in without a warning. The movement impales him on his dick, getting it impossibly deeper. He whines, balancing on his toes.

"Do you think you deserve it? You're not done with your chores." Steve points out, rolling his hips, and massaging his insides. "Finish the dishes, and I'll think about it."

Eddie gets scrubbing, but that was the wrong move.

Steve bends him over the sink, hand on the nape of his neck. Eddie yelps. His feet are barely touching the ground and the edge of the sink is digging into his hips. 

"Understood?" Steve asks, his voice firm.

"Yes, honey," he manages out. But Steve doesn't let him go, so he angles his arms to reach the plate again and finish cleaning it. He works quickly, aware that if he keeps this angle for too long, his arms will cramp. 

"Good, keep going," Steve praises him, and the words fuel his movements. All the while, his husband’s hips make minuscule movements, just there to remind him about his position. 

"Done," he says soon, planting the last two dishes on the rack. But behind him, Steve clicks his tongue. He freezes.

"Are you sure?"

Eddie scrambles for what he might have done wrong. He knows he needs to find the answer quickly.

"It's like you don't want to get fucked," Steve coos behind him, hips stilling. He's on the verge of disappointment and Eddie can't have it. He's staring at the stray grain of rice in the sink, begging for answers. 

I shouldn't be here, idiot, the rice tells him.

So he turns on the faucet, gives the sink a thorough swipe, and puts the sponge away. 

"How about now?" he asks, the cocky idiot inside him rearing his head out once again.

His answer is a rough push forward into the sink that pushes the air out of him. He scrambles to grip the edges of the sink.

"Perfect, if not for the attitude," Steve tells him. He pulls out of him and slams back in, finally hitting his prostate. He wheezes, choking on his own tongue. "Do you want to be rewarded or punished? I can't tell anymore." He hasn't picked up the pace yet, making shallow thrusts that barely stimulate Eddie. He huffs.

"You're the boss here, you tell me."

Steve pulls him up by his hair and Eddie stumbles back on his feet and into a tight embrace, Eddie's naked body against his clothed one.

"You just don't want to think for yourself, do you?" Steve scoffs. "Want me to do everything for you, huh? Put the food on the table and buy you nice clothes while you clean and cook and get fucked. Is that what you want?"

Eddie was starting to get lightheaded, but he forced himself to swallow and push out some words.

"Mhm. Wanna be a good wife for you."

"Good," Steve growls into his ear, and he sounds satisfied with the answer. Eddie's dick perks up at the praise. "It's all you're good for anyway. Slaving away at home while I'm making money. Thinking of my dick while cleaning the toilet."

Eddie whines, slipping further and further into that sweet space where he was just a hole for his husband to use and fill up.

"Yes, love your dick," he admits breathlessly.

Steve hums into his ear and brushes away his hair to press gentle kisses on his cheek, and his neck, the touch a stark contrast to the scene so far. 

"I think you deserve a treat for all the honesty, don't you?" he asks, but there's something in his tone telling Eddie it's a trick question. He scrambles to find the right answer.

"Uh," he licks his lips. Where did his brain cells go? "I deserve what my husband wants."

A smile stretches against his cheek, and he gets a soft kiss for his words.

"That's the right answer, wifey. And I want to fuck you like the stupid whore that you are."

"Thank you, thank you," he says reverently as he's being bent over again, his face almost hitting the faucet, and fucked into another dimension. 

He grips the metal rod in front of him, mewling at every slam into his prostate, at every move pushing his dick against the cupboards below him. He can feel the bruises forming where his hips are pressing against the counter, but all he thinks of is his husband's pleasure. He wants to be good for him. He keeps the house clean, meals ready and his hole prepared for use whenever Steve feels like slipping in. Be it for relaxing after a day of work, punishing Eddie for neglecting a chore, or rewarding for a tasty dinner. Eddie would do it all with a smile because he loved being there for him. He loved his husband, simple as that.

It feels faster than it is, but his husband comes deep inside him, with a quiet growl right against his ear. Eddie sighs at the feeling of hot seed inside him and pushes his ass up when Steve pulls out and smears the head of his dick around his entrance, making a further mess of his hole. 

"Clean me up," he says, and Eddie turns around on his wobbly legs to sink down on his knees and lick up everything Steve didn't manage to wipe on his skin. He looks up when Steve caresses his cheek and is rewarded with a loving smile. "That's a good whore. My perfect little wife."

Eddie hums with satisfaction, preening at the words. He keeps licking until Steve pulls him away by his hair. He sits back on his hunches and watches his beloved dick get hidden back behind a wall of denim.

"Now, now, stop pouting." Steve tuts, swiping a thumb over his bottom lip. "Up you go, it's your turn."

Eddie needs help getting on his feet, but thankfully, his husband doesn't mind. On the contrary, he seems to find Eddie's useless state amusing.

"My little rag doll," he chuckles as he hauls his wife onto the counter. 

Eddie whines at the feeling of cold stone against his bare and aching ass. He gets a soft kiss on his dazed smile and braces his husband's shoulders when he dives between his legs to finish him off. 

He hits his husband's throat once, twice, before letting out a silent scream of pleasure. Steve doesn't let any of it spill out, like all of his wife was precious and worth keeping. He looks up at him lovingly, kissing his thigh.

"My favorite dessert," he says, making Eddie giggle. He stands up and moves his legs to wrap around his waist. Eddie's grip is weak, but he braces his ass, knowing he can hold his beautiful rag doll up. "I bet you're tired from doing nothing all day, huh?" Eddie nods with a pout. "Want to join me for a nap?" he asks and gets an enthusiastic nod. He turns around to carry him to the bedroom, but Eddie makes a tiny sound of protest.

"What was that?"

Eddie whines.

"Gotta clean," he slurs, eyes focusing on the sticky imprint of his ass on the counter.

"Don't worry about it, honey. I'll get it in a second," Steve promises, turning to kiss his nose. "You're off duty until round two."

[gerrystamour]

i could be honest, i could be human [Chapters 9 & 10]

Rated E | Steddie

[ FIRST PART ] [ PREVIOUS PART ] [ NEXT PART ]

When a smirk tugged at the corners of Eddie’s mouth as he crouched to examine the bat bites closer, Steve chuckled lightly. “What, Munson?” he asked, trying not to think too much about the position Eddie was almost in. “Damn, Harrington,” Eddie said, his tone teasing as he looked up at him through his lashes. “Who hurt you?”

Chapter Nine: March 1986

It took Robin until the spring of the following year for the stars to align in a way for her to figure Steve’s crush out, and by then he thought he’d largely gotten over it.

Between graduating and working full-time, he hadnʼt actually seen Eddie since that night over the summer. The only times he would was while he was dropping Robin off at school and picking her up, and the other man was usually too busy with his friends to notice him. Part of him used to wish Eddie would notice him, look over and see his Beemer and wave, maybe even walk over.

But he never did, and they stopped running into each other in public, so Steve put his thoughts and energy elsewhere. No use pining over someone he wasn’t even brave enough to be friends with. Things with his dad were more tense than they had ever been, and Steve didn’t want any of his rage directed at Eddie if he could help it.

After the fight over the summer,  Robin instated a new rule and enforced it ruthlessly: Steve was never to go back to his house alone. It was tough to keep the reason for the rule a complete secret, so eventually Steve sat down and talked about it to Nancy. It had been a rough conversation, one that left them both raw and feeling guilty for things all over again. But once it was over with, Steve had another ally in his corner, another person who saw him and loved him all the same.

When his parents were in town, Steve was either at Robin’s house or he would crash in the spare room at Dustin’s. Over the years, Claudia had grown increasingly fond of Steve and he had dinner with them multiple times a week, especially after he “saved” Dustin in the mall fire. It wasn’t long until Claudia gave Steve a spare key and told him to come and go as he pleased, that her home was his.

The last time Steve went to the house in Loch Nora was to pick up the rest of his clothes and the handful of keepsakes he actually cared about. His next stop was the post office to have his mail forwarded to Robin’s address.

Steve knew he wasn’t free yet, that he would have to actually deal with his parents eventually, and he knew his every action was likely still reported back to them by some nosy gossip, but he felt free.

It wasnʼt a surprise when Steve started seeing the Freshmen following Eddie around eventually. He was even less surprised when Dustin started talking about him constantly. Eddie was exactly the type of person Dustin would latch onto and become obsessed with.

It was… annoying, if Steve was honest. 

For one, Steve felt an intense jealousy when he listened to Dustin talk about Eddie; over the fact that Dustin could hang out with Eddie so often or because Dustin seemed to like him more than Steve, Steve couldn’t tell. Secondly, there really was a limit to how many times someone could tell the same story about the same person before it got old.

So yeah, Steve was over Eddie. He even took several very successful solo trips to a bar in Indianapolis and felt like he really figured himself out. It felt… nice to be around a whole new group of people and to be wanted for simply being himself. No one there knew him as King Steve, or that he came from money. No one knew his father and avoided him. Steve was just some small-town pretty-boy and he liked the anonymity in that.

While he wouldn’t call himself experienced, it was enough that Steve knew what he enjoyed when he slept with other men. He liked to think he didn’t have a type either when it came to men either, just like he didn’t think he had a type of woman. Just because the men he ended up going home with had longer hair, calloused fingertips, and a preference for wearing leather and denim didn’t mean anything. They always just happened to be the men brave enough to approach him. 

One of the bartenders told him it had to do with his whole Good Boy get-up, and she’d laughed when Steve informed her that he was wearing his normal clothes. That was an enlightening night, as she had taken him home after the bar closed and he learned just what was possible even when sleeping with a woman.

It was through his experimentation and flirting at the bar that Steve realized that Eddie was possibly actually interested in him at some point, or at the very least attracted to him. There was something about the way the men he slept with would touch and look at him, before they were kissing or falling into a bed together that brought back little moments with Eddie. It was a bittersweet thing to realize, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it.

Eddie Munson would always be Steve’s wakeup call, and he would always be grateful for that, but Steve learned his way through a whole new aspect of his sexuality on his own. 

And again, he felt that he was well and truly over his crush.

So in March, when Steve recognized the trailer behind a reporter describing a gruesome murder that took place and the kids burst through the front doors of Family Video demanding use of their phones to find Eddie, he didn’t have to try that hard to be nonchalant about the whole situation. Nevermind how deeply invested he was in the search, even as he tried to ignore them and instead do his job.

It wasn’t until Eddie had pinned him to a wall with a broken bottle against his throat that Steve realized his crush was very much alive and thriving. He knew it was inappropriate, especially given that Eddie had clearly been crying and looked close to doing just that again. But Steve had still blushed a bit, glanced at Eddie’s mouth, and then blushed even more.

Quickly regaining his composure, Steve looked over Eddie’s shoulder at Robin to plead for her help in calming Eddie down, and to his dismay there was a thoughtful expression on her face. It was just a second of her glancing between them, and then it was replaced with wide-eyed understanding. Thankfully she exercised some rare tact and focused on helping Dustin talk Eddie down, but she gave Steve a look that clearly said, ‘You will not hear the end of this for the rest of your life.’

As they left the boathouse after debriefing Eddie on the horrors that lived under Hawkins, Robin grabbed Steve’s wrist and pulled him to a stop. Max and Dustin continued without them, bickering about their next move.

“We’re going to talk about that,” she said firmly, but there was a smirk threatening to overtake her mouth.

“Don’t you think we have bigger problems, Buckley?” Steve groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Hell-ooo! Lovebirds! We’re kind of in a hurry!” Dustin yelled, practically shrieked from the car.

“Henderson, can you lower the volume?” Steve hissed, gesturing around them at the darkness before turning to look back at Robin. “See? Bigger. Problems.”

“Of course,” she agreed before she started walking again, quietly adding, “we can’t have your boyfriend framed for murder by an evil wizard from a shadow dimension underneath Hawkins, right?”

Steve let out a long-suffering moan, trudging along behind her. “Ugh, can you shut up?”

❖

Steve sat in the back of the RV, struggling with removing the scraps of Nancy’s sweater from his injuries. They were looking pretty bad after several hours of not cleaning them out properly. That wasn’t even mentioning the injuries on his back that largely went unattended. Plus his throat hurt from being strangled, and the taste of the Demo-bat’s blood wouldn’t leave his mouth, no matter how much he brushed his teeth or tried to wash it out.

Altogether, Steve was not having a great time. Why was he always the one who got beat up every time the world ended?

He knew the answer to that before he even finished asking himself the question. Maybe if he stopped throwing himself between malevolent beings and his loved ones, he would come out of these situations looking a lot less like he had been processed through a meat grinder. However, Steve knew that the only way he would ever stop is if it actually finally killed him one day.

A noise caught Steve’s attention, and when he looked up he saw Eddie sitting in one of the front seats. They were still pulled over at the field, preparing for battle, and Steve hadn’t realized Eddie had gone inside at all. When their eyes met, there was something about Eddie’s gaze that seemed… weird, but he schooled his expression before Steve could figure it out.

“You need help?” Eddie offered, gesturing at Steve’s pathetic attempts at first-aid.

Steve knew it was probably a bad idea to let Eddie put his hands on him. He knew it wouldn’t help his sad, wishful thinking at all.

“I can’t get to all of the injuries,” Steve admitted, and he put down the gauze as Eddie got up and stepped closer.

Neither of them said anything at first as Eddie took stock of the injuries around Steve’s middle. When a smirk tugged at the corners of Eddie’s mouth as he crouched to examine the bat bites closer, Steve chuckled lightly.

“What, Munson?” he asked, trying not to think too much about the position Eddie was almost in.

“Damn, Harrington,” Eddie said, his tone teasing as he looked up at him through his lashes. “Who hurt you?”

Steve barked out a laugh, even as a spike of heat lanced through his gut, and rolled his eyes. “I’m still trying to figure out the cover-story for these bad boys,” he joked, gesturing vaguely down at the angry wounds and keeping his thoughts as clean as possible. “Ask me again after the government finally shows the fuck up with the confidentiality paperwork.”

Eddie chuckled lightly even as his frown deepened, and he got to work. “Was… were all the other times cover-stories, too?” he asked after a few minutes.

“What?” Steve asked, wincing as Eddie worked.

“The other times you were injured. I’m just—I’m thinking about the timeline you guys gave me and now I’m just—did you actually get beat up by Jonathan Byers?” he finally asked outright, and Steve laughed.

“Yes, I actually got beat up by Jonathan Byers,” he confirmed, sighing. “He accepted my apology after I saved him from the Demogorgon, though.”

“Ah, okay. Him forgiving you makes a lot more sense with that context,” Eddie murmured teasingly, and Steve gasped in mock-outrage.

“Hey man, my apology was very sincere. I’m sure that would’ve done the trick, too,” Steve insisted petulantly, and as he’d hoped, Eddie smiled.

“Hey, y’know, I actually ran away? The first time the Demogorgon came?” Steve admitted and Eddie snorted. 

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed and Steve shook his head with a grin.

“Seriously, I made it through the first attack, had a freak-out, and when it came back…” he trailed off at the memory, shuddering a bit as the vague memory of his gut wrenching fear came back. “Nancy told me to leave— I mean, she pulled a gun on me—”

“She what?” Eddie exclaimed, looking up at Steve with his wide brown eyes that always made the butterflies in Steve’s stomach dance. 

“I was freaking out pretty bad,” Steve offered as an explanation, shrugging when Eddie’s brow pinched together skeptically. With an embarrassed roll of his eyes, Steve continued, “then I ran. Made it to my car and everything. Almost got in and drove away, too.” 

“What stopped you?” Eddie asked quietly, blinking up at him. 

“I, uh, dropped my keys. When I got to my car, I mean, and I donʼt know, stopping like that gave my brain enough time to think,” Steve explained, grimacing as he thought back to that moment when he stood in Jonathan’s driveway and watched the lights start flickering. “I realized I was just gonna go home? And Nance and Jonathan were going to fight this… fucking demon? And they might die?”

“You were what, seventeen?” Eddie asked, standing up to meet Steve’s eyes properly. “It would’ve been normal to fucking run, Steve.”

“Almost seventeen, yeah,” Steve replied flippantly before he looked at Eddie pointedly. “Still. I couldn’t just leave them. Just like you couldn’t sit tight and hide. Or stay in the boat.”

Silence lapsed between them again as Eddie mulled that over, his cheeks turning a bit pink under Steve’s attention. Clearing his throat finally, Eddie glanced away. 

“And the next year, did Billy actually try to kill you?” he asked after a bit, and Steve sighed.

“Yeup. I basically told you the whole story. Max was afraid he’d kill her, and he was actually going to kill Lucas,” he answered as if it was not a big deal, and to him it wasn’t. It all felt like the bare minimum, even in retrospect. “I was with the kids because Hopper was taking Eleven, y’know, the—”

“The girl with the psychic powers, yes,” Eddie interjected with a chuckle. “You’ve mentioned her.”

“Yeah, he was taking her to close the portal. Ms. Byers was dealing with Will, who was possessed by the Mindflayer.”

“Jesus,” Eddie hissed as he moved around Steve to clean up the wounds on his back. There was a long pause before Eddie asked, “And the mall fire?”

Steve tensed up at that, the entire Starcourt mess being the memory he wished would go away the most.

“Russians,” Steve said after a bit before elaborating, “My injuries, I mean. Russians. They tortured me and Robin, almost killed us. Dustin and Erica saved us. The mall fire was us fighting a giant flesh monster with fireworks.”

“Holy fuck,” Eddie muttered, and Steve startled when the other man rested his forehead on the back of Steve’s shoulder. “Sorry, man, that’s just a lot to take in,” he said, clearing his throat and lifting his head again.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Steve laughed, shrugging, his skin still tingling where Eddie had rested against him. Clearing his throat, he gestured at the denim vest on the table. “I think your vest is toast, I’m really sorry.”

“Nah, man, don’t be sorry,” Eddie said softly, and suddenly he was resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder and grinning sidelong at him. “It demands payment in blood, and only that of idiot pretty-boy jocks will appease it after the first bloodletting, so really, you’re doing me a favour.”

Steve stared at Eddie out of the corner of his eye in confusion, a deep blush on his face at how close they were to each other, and then the memories finally came to him and he snorted unattractively. “Shit, sorry, I kinda forgot this isn’t the first time I bled on it,” Steve admitted while he laughed, and Eddie joined him quietly.

“I remember that day vividly, Harrington,” Eddie admitted as he backed away to get back to cleaning and dressing Steve’s injuries. “I think about it a lot.”

“Same, I mean thinking about it. A lot of details are really fuzzy, and there’s kind of… gaps in the memories,” Steve confessed quietly. “There’s a lot that I don’t remember from the aftermath, y’know? Maybe this time it’ll be different because so far, no concussion.”

“Okay, but you were strangled and oxygen deprivation—”

“Let me have this win, Munson,” Steve whined with a grin on his face, and Eddie laughed.

“I meant what I said down there, in the Upside-Down,” Eddie said suddenly after a short silence. “That you’re a good guy, even if that pissed me off at first. More than that, you’re amazing Steve. You’re funny, you’re actually kind of a nerd, and you’re a hero. I’m… really glad I got to know you, even if the world is ending tonight.”

Steve had been thinking about their conversation down there since it happened, and it had been gnawing at him the whole time. Having Eddie pushing him back toward Nancy had been frustrating at the time, nauseating even. 

Of course, Steve knew why people always jumped to that conclusion. 

She was his first love, his first real long term relationship and Steve hadnʼt been successful in the dating world since. Even his trips out to Indy werenʼt yielding results outside of casual flings and learning more about himself. Even Robin asked him one night when they were a little bit tipsy if he was still in love with Nancy. There was a part of Steve that questioned himself after a particularly long series of swings and misses. 

Nancy had been, at one point, his everything. Steve had seen a future with her that was within reach, something he might have been able to make even his dad at least tolerant of, and then he lost her. She was a bright spot, a candle in his lonely, dark world and when Steve fucked it up, he was left stumbling alone.

If Nancy was a candle, though, Eddie was the goddamn sun.

Eddie brought a warmth and brightness to every space he entered, and Steve desperately wanted to bask in it for the rest of his life if he could. Steve wanted Eddie, and he wanted to actually be with him. His need for the other man went so deep, it had become painful to keep it buried inside himself.

Steve didn’t want to— no, couldnʼt go back to the Upside Down with Eddie thinking he wanted anyone else, especially his ex-girlfriend. He wouldnʼt march dutifully toward what might be their deaths without telling Eddie.

Even if Eddie didn’t feel the same way, or he was never attracted to him at all, Steve had to let him know.

“You got something wrong down there, though,” Steve started.

“If you even try to downplay how fucking brave and selfless you are, Harrington, I’m—”

“I don’t want to be with Nancy anymore,” Steve said, turning to face Eddie properly. “And yeah, Nancy loves me, but not like that. We’ve been through too much together to not love each other. She jumped into the water because she knows I would’ve done the same. Any of us in this group would.”

Eddie stared down at Steve, the frown on his face deepening a bit. “Okay?” he said after a minute.

Steve sighed heavily, trying to quiet the butterflies in his gut, and then reached out to cup his hand around Eddie’s jaw. Eddie froze, wide-eyed, and Steve waited for Eddie to do something before continuing. After a few moments of Eddie’s huge brown eyes searching his face, a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. When Eddie relaxed and tipped his head minutely into his hand, Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and stepped a bit closer to Eddie.

With another deep breath, Steve hooked a finger into one of Eddie’s belt loops and tugged on it a bit. When he looked up through his lashes at Eddie’s face, the other man didn’t look confused anymore; he looked hungry and Steve let himself bask in it for a second. 

There was a small part of Steve that couldn’t believe his luck, but he wasn’t going to question it either. He wanted Eddie so much, and it appeared that Eddie was into him as well. 

Steve was allowed to have this.

Breathing in sharply, Steve tipped his mouth up, close enough that he could feel Eddie’ breath on his lips, and started to say, “I’m saying all this right now because—”

The door to the RV banged open and the kids piled in, laughing and goofing off despite the situation. Steve would have been happy to hear it if they had waited maybe ten more minutes.

Eddie apparently had the same thought. “Jesus H. Christ, your timing!” he lamented, having already jumped out of Steve’s space, leaving Steve standing there with his hands awkwardly in the air for a second. “Can you guys just go back outside real quick, for five more minutes? Stevie’s still not decent.”

“We’ve all seen Steve with his shirt off,” Lucas said, his tone disgusted as he looked Steve over.

“And we don’t have five more minutes. Time to put your shirt on, Steve,” Dustin commanded, and Steve sighed as he grabbed the shirt he picked up at War Zone and put it on.

When Steve turned around, Robin was looking at him wide-eyed, as if she knew exactly what was about to happen when they all stormed in. Steve shrugged and put the leather jacket he bought back on and then, looking over his shoulder at Eddie again, he grabbed the battle vest and shrugged it on over top. Glancing down at himself, he definitely saw the appeal of wearing an outfit like that.

When he met Eddie’s eyes again, there was a moment where it looked like he was about to do something about Steve, their audience be damned, and Steve just raised an eyebrow.

The world was about to end, who cared anymore?

“Steve, come on, we’re losing daylight,” Nancy said urgently, an eyebrow raised high as she looked back and forth between him and Eddie. She was in the middle of setting down the weapons and organizing them. “What are you even doing?”

Steve turned away from Eddie fully and headed to the front of the RV, smirking slightly to himself as he heard Eddie cursing up a storm behind him.

Robin followed Steve to the front seat and smiled politely when she shoved past Nancy to take the passenger seat. “I’m invoking Best Friend Shotgun Privileges,” she said when Nancy looked like she was about to argue with her.

At that, Nancy just raised her eyebrows, glanced between the two of them then threw her hands up in surrender before wandering to the back of the RV to sit next to Eddie.

“Is Steve being weird right now?” Steve heard Nancy ask Eddie.

“Oh, Nance, you have no idea,” Eddie replied, and when Steve glanced back, Eddie was grinning and doing that thing where he hid his mouth with some of his hair while he looked out the window next to him. 

Steve smirked a bit and got to hot wiring the RV again like Eddie showed him.

Once they were on the road again and the noise of the RV blocked any conversation from the front reaching the back, Robin leaned over and rested her chin on Steve’s outstretched arm as he drove.

“Please tell me we didn’t interrupt what I think we just interrupted,” she begged softly and Steve laughed.

“You want me to lie to you, Robs?” he asked, raising an eyebrow down at her and she groaned.

“I am so sorry,” she said.

“It’s fine, you didn’t know,” Steve reassured her, lifting his other hand to pat her head. “Honestly, I didn’t know I was going to say anything until right before I started to say it.”

“You were just going to blab?” Robin asked, lifting her head with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, actually. I figured there’s a very high chance at least one of us might not make it out of this mess, so…” he trailed off, shrugging one shoulder.

“Well, now you’ll both just have to survive, won’t you?” Robin said, and while her tone was teasing, there was a desperate edge to it.

“Yeah, Robs, we will,” Steve said, smiling over at her before smirking again. “I think I got my point across anyway.”

“Oh, yeah? You have telepathy now, Steve?” Robin said sarcastically and Steve snorted.

“It’s called body language, Robs,” Steve replied, looking sidelong at her while she made a face up at him. “Is he still blushing?”

Robin looked back and snorted. “Oh yeah, and he’s gotten not only Nancy’s attention, but Dustin’s as well,” she explained and Steve just smiled broadly.

“Still got it,” he teased, winking over at Robin. 

She laughed out loud and began digging around the glove box until she found a clean napkin and a pen that worked. Then she spent the next little while scribbling while angling her body so Steve couldn’t see what she was doing. Finally, out of the corner of his eye he could see her cap the pen and then fold the napkin in a way that it hid what she wrote, like the notes that girls used to pass around class.

Leaning over, she slid the folded napkin in the pocket of his leather jacket. “Promise you won’t look at that until this is over and we’re all alive, okay?”

“I promise, Robs,” Steve said, smiling gently at her when she rested her chin on his arm again.

They were going to make it, Steve decided, because he had a boy to get and a note to read.

Chapter Ten: B-Side

The battle vest was ruined, Steve knew it was.

Just the blood from his own poorly tended wounds would have been enough to call it. But then he had to haul Eddie out…

Inhaling sharply through his nose, Steve shook his head and submerged the vest in the bathtub again for another soak. He had already tried the steps he knew for removing blood from denim, but that was drops from a nosebleed, or a skinned elbow.

This was from someone bleeding to death. This was from the boy he cared about so deeply it hurt bleeding out.

Another sharp inhale, another violent shake of his head, a slow breath out.

The water in the tub wasn’t even changing colour anymore, at least not by any amount that mattered. Steve would wring it out one more time and figure something out if it didn’t work. He’d let it soak for the time being, and maybe this was the time that the stain would just lift right out. It just needed patience and perseverance.

Steve’s fingers were almost painfully wrinkled with how long he had been working at his lost cause. He knew he didn’t have to hold the vest under the water, but there was something grounding about the pain of the cold water when Steve would submerge his hands for just a bit too long. Whenever he’d get too far inside his head, he would lean over the edge of the tub and hold the battle vest under the water until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Distantly, he heard the egg timer go off behind him and inhaled sharply before he lifted the vest out of the tub.

The water in the tub was practically clear.

Steve wrung the vest out as much as his numb fingers could manage, and the water in the tub stayed clear. Steve sucked in a breath through his nose, and it stuck in his chest, his throat filling with glass as he tried blotting the vest with a rag, but nothing was happening.

The battle vest was ruined. Steve couldn’t fix it, just like he couldn’t protect Eddie and Dustin, and he couldn’t stop Vecna before Eddie decided to be a hero, even after he promised.

There was a part of Steve that recognized he was barely keeping himself from having a breakdown on the bathroom floor of Claudia Henderson’s master bathroom. He had to get up and deal with the vest, to do something with it that wasn’t another soak-wring-blot cycle. He had to get off the floor and do something.

Distantly, he heard a vehicle out front and told himself that it was time to move. Steve couldn’t stay on the floor like that, it would upset Dustin. Claudia would be mad that he was in here; her hospitality would only go so far, he was sure, and this was her private space.

Steve had to get up.

The weight of everything—Max almost dying, Eddie bleeding out, almost failing to kill Vecna—kept Steve on the ground holding the ruined battle vest. Everything went blurry and a sob shuddered out of his chest, followed by another.

It sounded muffled, but he heard the front door open and shut, a voice call out and then footsteps thundering down the hall.

Steve could tell Claudia hadn’t taken off her shoes and he had to get himself under control. He bit his cheek hard enough to make it bleed, trying to use the pain to snap himself out of it, but he was too far gone.

The bathroom door opened, and Steve could hear Claudia say his name as she stopped the egg timer quickly.

“I’m fine,” he tried to choke out, but it came out as a garbled mess around a sob. “I’m sorry,” he tried, and he managed to make it understandable.

“Oh, Steve, sweetie,” Claudia cooed, and Steve realized she was kneeling next to him on the floor and rubbing his back.

He leaned toward her before he could stop himself, something inside him aching for something it had never received. Claudia didn’t miss a beat, immediately wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on top of his head.

“You’ve been so brave through so much, haven’t you?” Claudia sighed, petting Steve’s hair. “I’ve got you, sweetie, don’t you worry.”

Steve couldn’t have pulled himself together after that if he tried. He just sobbed, letting all of his fear, anxiety, and grief out while he held the battle vest to his chest. It felt like hours that he sat there on the floor, crying his eyes out while Dustin’s mom held him and ran her fingers through his hair.

Eventually, he wore himself out, either running out of sadness or tears. Taking a deep breath in, he released it in a shuddering sigh.

“There it is,” Claudia said happily, patting his back carefully and pulling back to smile at Steve.

“There what is?” he asked, his voice a bit hoarse, and he frowned at the tears on Claudia’s face.

“I like to call it the ‘first free breath.’ When you finally let out all the hurt and the sadness, and then you can breathe,” she replied, and she said it like it was so simple.

And yet, it was easier for Steve to breathe, easier than it had been in years, perhaps his whole life even. As if there had been something around his chest, slowly getting tighter every time he breathed out for as long as he could remember. Now, it was gone, or at least loosened.

“Now, what’s this?” Claudia asked, gesturing to the vest Steve was still holding tightly to his chest.

“It’s… my friend’s battle vest. He made it himself, and I was—he was bleeding a lot when—I wanted to fix it for him,” Steve answered, and it felt like he should be crying again but his body couldn’t muster the tears. “I wanted to fix it for when he woke up.”

Claudia searched his eyes and face for a long time. “Is this the young man that’s in surgery right now?” she asked, and Steve nodded quickly, opening his mouth to defend Eddie if she brought up the murders. She reached up and patted his cheek, shaking her head. “Dusty cares about him a lot, too.”

“He’s great with Dustin, Mrs. Henderson. You’d love Eddie, and I really hope you get to meet him,” Steve insisted quickly, and Claudia smiled warmly.

“I’m sure I’ll meet him. Can I see the vest, Steve?” she asked, holding her hand out for it, and he immediately passed it to her. Humming thoughtfully, she turned it over in her hands. “The vest is probably ruined, but a lot of the patches are fine, and the others might be salvageable. You get changed into some dry clothes, okay?”

Steve blinked at her a bit dumbly but nodded once. Claudia pulled him into one more hug before she got up and hurried out of the room. Doing as he was asked, Steve got into new pajamas and then went to Claudia’s bathroom to drain the tub and clean up the mess he made with water on the floor.

When he came back out, Claudia was sitting at the kitchen table with a seam ripper and carefully removing one of the patches. On the table were several Polaroids of the vest from all angles, and draped over the back of the chair next to her were a couple jean jackets.

When she glanced up at him and saw him frowning at the pictures, she smiled. “We’ll use the pictures to put them back where they belong,” she explained, gesturing between the vest, the pictures, and the jackets next to her.

Steve knew he should understand what she was getting at, but thoughts were moving through his head like molasses, and he couldn’t connect them. “What?” he asked softly.

Claudia looked up at him and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I’m used to talking to Dusty—you know how he is,” she laughed fondly before she looked up at him properly. “We’re going to make your friend a new one with as many of the old patches we can save, okay?”

Steve crumbled all over again, but this time it felt a lot less jagged.

Stepping closer, he wrapped Claudia in a tight hug and let out a sobbing laugh. “Thank you, Mrs. Henderson,” he murmured.

“When are you going to call me Claudia like I keep asking you to, Steve?” she asked with a chuckle, carefully rubbing his back. “This is your home if you want it, for as long as you want it, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m just your host.”

Steve thought about that, and about this house being one of the only places that had ever felt like home to him. He thought about how he felt safe there, wanted, and even loved. Then he thought about how he intended to tell Eddie about his feelings as soon as he woke up and could handle a conversation like that. Steve didn’t want to live in a house where he had to hide parts of himself again.

He had kept himself formal around Claudia to keep his distance, like if he talked like she was a host it wouldn’t hurt as much once he overstayed his welcome. It wouldn’t hurt as much when she inevitably turned on him.

But she was insistent, and Steve wanted to stay here, and he wanted to know that if he did stay, he could bring Eddie around and not hide what they were to each other.

Pulling away, Steve sat down on one of the other dining room chairs and looked down at his hands while he thought about what he was going to say.

“Eddie isn’t my friend, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve said after taking a deep breath, and he flinched at his wording. “I mean, he is, right now because everything happened before I could tell him my—that I like him. That I might be a little in love with him.”

Silence followed his confession, and Steve cleared his throat.

“Is that okay?” he asked quietly, balling his hands into fists.

Claudia put the seam ripper down and took his hands in hers, encouraging Steve to relax his fingers. “Sweetie, I know why you think you do, but you don’t need my permission to love anyone. I want you to know that I will never tell you who you can or cannot love, do you understand?” she asked gently, and Steve nodded frantically.

“But it won’t be a problem if I bring him around? Or you see us holding hands?” Steve pushed, needing to be sure.

“It won’t be a problem, as long as he makes you happy, sweetie,” Claudia said so sincerely, Steve couldn’t find a single part of him jaded enough to doubt her.

Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet hers as he said, “Thank you, C-Claudia.”

The grin and hug he was rewarded with were huge, and Steve felt a properly happy laugh bubble up out of his chest.

❖

The next day, Steve returned to the hospital feeling a bit less like he was drowning. Eddie was stable and in recovery. The wounds themselves were relatively superficial, there had just been so many, and he had lost so much blood before he received treatment. At least that had been roughly what Wayne had explained to him on the phone that morning.

When Steve arrived at the hospital, he stopped to visit Max first like he always did. Ms. Mayfield was asleep on a cot next to Max’s bed, so Steve was quiet with his greeting and little updates. It broke his heart seeing her like that on the bed, quiet and pale, barely any movement aside from her chest rising and falling with her breaths.

Once he finally arrived at Eddie’s room, he was surprised to see Wayne still there. He knew the man worked nights, so he figured he’d need to be sleeping.

“Hello, Mr. Munson,” Steve said awkwardly as he shuffled over to the other available chair.

“Harrington,” Wayne greeted, looking him up and down with an unreadable expression.

Steve settled as comfortably as he could in his chair, trying to ignore Wayne staring at him while he pulled a book and a pair of glasses out of his backpack. He had the new battle vest in his backpack to work on since Claudia taught him how to do some basic stitches, but for some reason he was nervous about doing that in front of Wayne.

“What’re you doing here, boy?” Wayne asked, and Steve looked up at him, wide-eyed. Steve appreciated that Wayne at least tried to hide his disdain, but it was impossible to ignore.

“Sorry, I’ll leave,” Steve said quickly as he put his book away, even if leaving made a hollow feeling settle in his gut. “I’m sorry for—”

“I didn’t tell you to leave. I asked what you were doing here,” Wayne interrupted with a sigh, and something relaxed in his jaw.

Steve couldn’t think of a good answer, not sure what Wayne knew about Eddie. Then again, Steve was largely assuming that himself based on several years of too-gentle touches and one kiss that nearly happened.

But even if Wayne knew about Eddie, what should Steve say here? That he wanted to be there the second Eddie woke up so he could breathe properly again? That he wanted to be here to see Eddie’s smile and hear his laugh, to finally confess the feelings he had been building gradually inside him until they were spilling over? That he waited until the last possible moment to drum up the courage to say something, and then the moment passed, and he almost lost him forever?

“I care about him,” Steve said, and it felt woefully inadequate. “I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“You care about him,” Wayne responded thoughtfully, skepticism lying thick under the words. “What does that mean?”

Steve frowned at Wayne, knowing the man was challenging him. This was some sort of test. “I’m—I might be in love with him, Mr. Munson,” Steve replied, his heart pounding hard enough in his chest that he was sure Wayne could hear it.

As it was, Wayne’s eyebrows shot upward on his forehead at the confession. That was a bit satisfying, all things considered.

“What would your old man think about that, kid?” he asked after a moment, his eyes searching Steve’s face.

“Pardon my language, Mr. Munson, but I don’t give a shit what he thinks,” Steve replied firmly, shrugging with one shoulder. “The people who actually matter know about my feelings for Eddie. Richard Harrington can shove his thoughts about it up his ass for all I care.”

Steve ignored the flash of fear that went through him saying that. It frustrated him how scared he still was of his dad when he hadn’t even seen the man in months.

Wayne was looking at him, assessing him, before he relaxed fully in his chair. “Does he know?” he asked, nodding in Eddie’s direction.

“I think he does,” Steve replied sadly, slouching in his chair. “I tried to tell him, but I waited too long, and then everything happened. We just… ran out of time.”

Wayne nodded, rolling his eyes skyward. “I’ll make sure you’re allowed in here, no matter the time, alright?” he said after a bit and his gaze met Steve’s again. “You better make good on your plan to tell him, got it? I’ve had it up to here with his lovesick pining for you.”

“Wait, what—?” Steve started, completely baffled, but Wayne just groaned loudly as he stood up and stretched.

“Keep an eye on him, would you? I’m going for a smoke,” he said and then left the hospital room.

Once he was alone in the room, Steve looked at Eddie and his heart ached. He looked so small and frail, his face gaunt and white as a sheet. But he was breathing on his own and Steve would take that as a good sign. He allowed himself a small smirk.

“Lovesick pining, huh?” Steve asked the sleeping form on the bed as he reached into his backpack and pulled out the new battle vest and got to work.

[ NEXT ]

[ AO3 LINK ]

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[cowboysandpilots]

Over the Balcony (18+)

This is a continuation of this little ficlet

—

Eddie took his challenge of finding a time when the firehouse was empty very seriously. It started off as a joke, a little tease, but now he really wanted to do it.

The firehouse was rarely empty, but they were having some routine maintenance made on the alarms and the speakers, which meant that the 118 was bunking with another firehouse, and their house would be empty for at least a few days. That's when Eddie put his plan into action.

He snuck into the firehouse after he knew that all the workers had left for the night and texted Buck to meet him there. The other man was confused but showed up, of course. Holding his arms out in question. "I don't think we're supposed to be in here."

Eddie can't help but chuckle. "I wouldn't expect you to worry about that."

"Hey, old me wouldn't, but you know I'm trying to be better. I haven't stolen a fire truck in years." Buck grins.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna need you to bring back Buck 1.0 for this. Just for a little while." Eddie smirks, brushing his thumb over Buck's cheek.

"Why? What are we doing?" He snorts softly

Eddie leans forward and kisses up Buck's jaw before turning him around to face the view of the lower level. "I'm gonna fuck you over the balcony." He says lowly into Buck's ear from behind.

Buck can't help but shiver, and he's already half-hard in his pants. He never actually thought Eddie would take him up on this; it was just a joke, right? Not anymore. "Yeah, yeah." Buck breathes because he sure as hell isn't gonna say no.

While Eddie is reaching into one of his pockets for the small bottle of lube and the condom he brought, Buck is working on getting his pants about halfway down his thighs. They both knew this wasn't going to be anything but a quick fuck; it couldn't be, for risk of getting caught.

Eddie slicked up two fingers with a generous amount of lube, kissing down Buck's neck with his hand gently placed on the man's throat. He waits until Buck seems distracted by the feeling and a little more relaxed before he carefully works both of his fingers into the man's tight hole and scissors him open.

By the time Eddie has him stretched enough to take his cock, Buck is practically shaking and buckling at the knees. He lets out an obscenely loud moan as Eddie curls his fingers up and presses right against his prostate. It echos off the empty walls, and it makes them both blush, and Eddie tells him not to stop even though he removes his fingers right after.

Eddie takes his time lubing up his condom-covered cock after he's got his own pants down, listening to Buck's ragged breathing. Just thinking about the fact that he was the one to do that makes his cock twitch in his hand.

Buck turns his head back as much as he can to kiss Eddie. It's awkward, and the position puts a crick in his neck, but he could care less because Eddie uses the kiss to push the blunt head of his cock into Buck's ready opening, and it makes him moan into the kiss, only breaking when Eddie has bottomed out. His breath is still ragged, and Eddie barely gives him any time to adjust before he's pulling back out just halfway and slamming back in, making Buck moan again.

"That's it, baby, sound so good. Wanna hear you." Eddie grunts out, rocking his hips forward so hard that Buck has to brace himself on the railing of the balcony, already bent at the stomach.

It's much hotter than Buck even thought it would be when he first teased Eddie about it. His knuckles are white against the railing, and he knows his hips are going to be bruised from the way they keep slamming into the glass. He doesn't let the moans stop coming or the strangled whines of his boyfriend's name when Eddie reaches around to start stroking him.

"Fuck, oh fuck. Harder. Wanna feel this for weeks." Buck admits, and it makes Eddie chuckle breathlessly.

"I can never say no to you, cowboy." He places his free hand on Buck's upper back between his shoulder blades to push him further over the balcony and pushes his ass out and up a bit more to let Eddie thrust harder.

At this point, Buck is hoping that this railing is not real glass and just plexi glass because it's shaking with each thrust that are coming in quick succession, and he's not sure how they would explain it breaking from this. He's moaning to the ground that he can't even see while his eyes are screwed shut with equal pleasure, and the pain that being bent like this is causing him.

The tightness in his stomach seems to come way too quick, and he has to force actual words to come out of his mouth instead of just desperate whines and whimpers. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum" He manages to grunt out. A warning that doesn't even make Eddie falter.

"Right there with you, baby," Eddie grunts back, and he sounds just as desperate as Buck feels when the grip on his cock tightens and speeds up.

It's just a minute before Buck is cumming, thick white ropes splattering against the glass in front of him with a loud shout of Eddie's name. The sheer force of his orgasm causes him to clench around Eddie's thick cock, and that's what ultimately does him in, tipping him over the edge and shooting his load into the condom, still buried deep inside Buck.

Every inch of him wishes that his cum was coating the inside of Buck instead of the condom, but he knew they wouldn't have time for a cleanup like that in a place like this. They stay like that for a while, though, Eddie's chest against Buck's back while they both try to catch their breath. It's only after Eddie had pulled out and disposed of the condom that Buck speaks, blissed-out smile still on his lips.

"Maybe this wasn't such a great idea. I'm definitely gonna want to do that again, and we won't get another chance."

Eddie only smirks. "Maybe not after today, but I don't think they'll be back again tonight." He says with a raised eyebrow.

Buck leans forward and kisses Eddie as an answer, pushing his tongue into the older man's mouth.

Yeah, they had all night.

—

Spare change? 🤲🏻

[angelbaby-fics]

Pretty Kitty

Pairing: CG!Eddie Munson x Little!Reader (gender neutral)

Word count: 900

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this fluffy little fic! I've been in such an Eddie mood lately & I'm really looking forward to writing more of him in the future!! Just a reminder to please fill out my survey if you haven't already and also just wanted to let you know that I'm super close to 1k followers!! When I reach it, I'm gonna host a big Halloween writing party for you guys!!!

Eddie had been making great progress since graduating high school. He’d gotten a job at the local music store, getting paid to gush about guitars to anyone who would listen. Of course, the majority of the customers were school band students renting instruments for class, but that didn’t dim his excitement. The best part of the job though, of course, was that he was finally making a steady income, enough to rent a little apartment in town for the two of you.

When he worked, he missed you. In between customers, when there was nobody to talk to, Eddie would sit behind the counter with his own guitar, practicing songs he knew you loved so he could play them for you when he got home. He wished he could bring you into the shop with him and let you discover all the instruments, banging out discordant tunes on the piano or scribbling on blank sheet music, but he knew his boss would have a fit. The old man was already hesitant to hire a formerly wanted criminal, so Eddie knew he had to be on his best behavior. Besides, you had your own things to do during the day. His only companion through the workday was the elderly shop cat Butter. 

Butter was a pale orange tabby who spent her days stretched across the windowsill, only moving to follow the sun as rose and set and warmed the glass. Eddie would talk to her when the shop was empty, stroking her soft fur and telling her anything and everything that came to mind while she purred beneath his touch. It reminded him of when he would put you to sleep while you were in babyspace, how he’d run his hand across your back and ramble about his day as your breath evened out. You were a bit like his own little kitty, he thought to himself and smiled. His sweet, little baby kitty. 

When Eddie got home, you were waiting eagerly on the sofa. You’d been little all day, which wasn’t a problem. You and Eddie had both made sure the apartment was baby-proofed and that you had plenty of activities within your reach to keep you busy while he worked. You’d been able to entertain yourself for a while with coloring and cartoons, but as the sun started to cast long shadows through the kitchen window, you wished more and more for your Eddie to return home for the night. You laid curled up with your head on the arm of the couch, snapping to a sitting position as soon as you heard his key turn in the lock.

“Daddy’s home!!” You cheered, jumping up and running into his open arms.

“Aw, hi baby!” Eddie said, lifting you up and pressing your face into his neck. Today had been a long and boring day, and he’d missed you very much. 

You nuzzled into him, humming with satisfaction. After a moment, Eddie set you back down and gave you a pat on the head, ruffling up your hair. 

“How’s my pretty kitty doing?” He asked with a grin. 

You looked up, confused.

“Dada, ‘m not a kitty!”

“Oh, are you sure?” Eddie argued back, lightheartedly. “You look like a kitty!” “I do?” 

“Well, you’re cute like a kitty.”

He pet your hair, tickling a bit behind your ears and making you giggle.

“Hmm, you’re soft like a kitty, too!”

“I’m not a kitty, I’m a baby!” You laughed, dodging his hands as he tried to subdue you with a tickle attack.

“You’re fast like a kitty! I can’t keep up with you!” Eddie countered as he chased you into your bedroom. 

You jumped onto the bed, scurrying under the comforter as quickly as you could. You curled up into a defensive position, the only evidence of your existence being a lump beneath the blankets. Eddie trotted in shortly after you, smiling at your little round shape. Even in your childish rebellion, you couldn’t help but prove his point. You looked just like a cat all curled up on his mattress. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be a kitty if you don’t want to.” Eddie said, pulling back the covers to reveal you. 

You thought for a moment; maybe being a kitty wouldn’t be so bad. They were cute, and who doesn’t love cats? Every time you visited the shelter downtown, you’d stop to give some love to the rescues who hadn’t yet found a home. It could be nice to be loved like that. 

“If I was a kitty, would I get lots of pets?” You asked, lifting your head up slightly.

Eddie joined you on the bed, still giving you a bit of space just in case. 

“Baby, if you were a kitty, you’d get all the pets in the world, anytime you want.” He smiled. 

“And treats?” You added with a grin.

“Only if you finish all your Fancy Feast. And if you’re extra good, I’ll give you some catnip”

You giggled, unfurling from your position and reaching out your limbs in a long overdue stretch. Your whole face scrunched up as you tried and failed to suppress a yawn. You looked up at Eddie with sleepy eyes, and he patted the mattress next to him. 

“Here, kitty kitty.” He whispered.

You crawled over to him, easily inserting yourself in his arms and resting your head on his strong chest.

“Meow,” you whispered back, before quickly adding, “that means I love you in kitty.”

Eddie looked at you, his giant eyes full of love, and returned the sentiment.

“Meow”

[applejaax]

Before You Go, Let's Fool Around

for @steddiemicrofic | rated R so mdni | wc: 555

Prompt: Fool

“There’s nothing you can do, Eds,” Steve said, as he threw his last bag in the back of his car. “I’m leaving for Chicago tonight.”

Eddie was heartbroken. He fell in love with Steve Harrington and now the King of Hawkins was waving goodbye to his kingdom and abandoning his jester. His one and only fool, who was dumb enough to develop feelings for someone he knew deep down wouldn’t last a lifetime in his arms. Why did he always seem to torture himself so? “There must be something I can say,” Eddie protested, following Steve back into his house like a lost puppy dog.

“No, there isn’t.” Steve turned to shut the front door behind them and crossed his arms over his chest. “The job pays well and the reputation it’ll give me is even better. I don’t have to be a loser who works for his dad thanks to my mother getting me this position.”

Steve gave Eddie a grim expression. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“I am!” Eddie replied with glee, even though it pained him to do so. “I am so happy for you, Stevie. I just-” “You just what?” Steve asked, dropping his arms to his sides and frowning.

“I hate that we have to leave each other.” Eddie dropped his face into his hands, feeling that familiar burning in his throat. He didn’t want to cry yet, not while Steve was still here in front of him. What kind of fool does something like that? He supposed it was the don’t know what ya had til it’s gone or rather slipping away trope.

“Eds,” Steve cooed softly, lifting Eddie’s head by his chin and cradling his face in his hands. “I haven’t left just yet.” His hands traveled down to squeeze on Eddie’s ass, causing him to perk up and laugh.

“You are something else, Stevie,” Eddie scoffed and shook his head with a smile.

“Yeah, I know.” Steve shrugged and sunk down to the floor on his knees, unbuckling Eddie’s belt.

“Whoa there, cowboy! Right in the breezeway?”

“Yeah, why not? You’re acting like we haven’t had full blown public sex before,” Steve snorted out as he yanked Eddie’s pants and briefs down to his knees.

“You’re a damn fool, Harrington,” Eddie sighed as the brunette put his warm mouth around him.

Steve pulled away after a minute of getting Eddie off just to smile up at him and flash those pretty brown eyes through his lashes, causing Eddie to shove his head back down onto him.

“We’re both fools,” he moaned out, “because I can’t live without you.” He knotted his fingers into Steve’s hair just before he came down his throat, thrusting his hips forward several times like a bull bucking its hind legs.

Steve got to his feet once more, wiping his mouth clean.

“How do you do that so well?” Eddie asked breathlessly.

“I just know what makes you tick, Munson,” Steve laughed, watching him pull his pants back up and look around wearily.

“Oh, would you relax? The maid isn’t here.”

“Really? Then what the hell are we still wearing our clothes for.” Eddie scooped Steve into his arms bridal style and carried him upstairs to his bedroom where the fool and his king made love until the sun went down.

[mysticmunson]

bf!eddie is a highkey horndog and lowkey perv

he’s super into experimentation, maybe you’re his first real girlfriend, and while you’ve both had one night stands, this is some long term shit. after spending many a nights alone with lotion and playboys/hustlers, his mind is buzzing with ideas.

you’re just relaxing after work one day and he comes up to you all bright eyed, “did you have a good dayyy?” he sings, and while he looks cute, he’s up to something.

“uh good, how was yours?” you question as he sits next to you on his bed. he’s in a cropped band shirt and some gym shorts from school, showing his long legs and a few tattoos.

“can i borrow you for like 20 seconds?” he pops the question, not leading to any explanation, but you agree.

next thing you know he’s manhandling you into a cradle sex position, back to his chest and yanking your legs apart.

“eddie, what the-“ you’re cut off by him giving an enthusiastic fake thrust, brushing his crotch against your ass.

“oh yeah, this could work.” he grins, releasing your legs to send you falling over, putting your hands and feet flat on the ground.

most would probably apologize for accidentally sending you forward, but eddie just realized what perfect access he has. your hands firm on the ground, he lifts your legs to straddle his lap. your ass is all he can see, but you’re rubbing against his crotch subconsciously.

helping you back up, you take a breath of relief until he’s pulling you back to the bed. he’s flat on his back, and you know you’re in trouble when you can see the blush on his face as he gets this ready.

he bends his knees to his chest, yanking you to sit on his thighs, perfect access for you to sink onto him. he looks at you expectantly, leaning on his elbows as you glance around at the dimensions.

“this is the one you really want to try, isn’t it?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow as he nods slowly, a big smile on his face. you can feel him getting hard, the thin material of his shorts doing little to conceal it.

“alright, let’s go.” you sigh, not being able to stop the giggle as he cheers, fists shooting up in the air that causes him to flop against the bed.

what ensues is about an hour of trying to figure out the logistics of this position, lots of giggles and falling.

as much as you both love sensual, sexy time. sometimes it’s just as fun to be joking around the whole time, giggling and getting caught off guard when you clench him just right.

“you’re gonna make me come if you keep laughing, babe.” he’d try warning as he too laughed, finding the placement of you bouncing on top of his bent thighs amusing and fucking hot.

when you finally stop, you slip off and fall back, but his legs fly down, right on top of you. he probably accidentally hits you in the face with his foot.

“ew eddie!” you squeal, sitting up as his legs still trapped you in a cage.

“what can i say, you make my knees weak” he cockily smirks, shrugging, earning him a smack on the gut from you.

so yeah eddie definitely has a stash of porn magazines, but instead of hiding them, he circles things he wants to try and either moves your body himself to test it or just shows you them.

but if you’re being honest, feeling his hands grip you and throw you around fully clothed is very erotic

[bmodiwrites]

Okay my friends, here is part 3 to the little brain child @infinite-orangepeel's amazing idea brought forth. You can check out parts one & two and the original HC post here. Part 4 is in the works so be on the lookout for that here soon.

It's naughty pretty much right from the start so she's under a read more, honey. Enjoy!

Eddie is in no way prepared for the sight of his very wet dream stepping under the shower head next to him. There’s no denying that Steve very purposefully chose his current location – aside from the two of them, the gym is empty and will remain so for the rest of the day. That knowledge alone is enough for Eddie’s cock to jump inappropriately.

The weakness he feels translates into a manic shout of a profanity at the beautiful boy dropping his towel to rub those very large hands all over himself. His pale skin glistens under the water and reddens with the heat. To say it’s intoxicating is the biggest understatement.

Eddie notices that Steve makes a show of mapping himself, so he doesn’t feel nearly as bad about the staring as he usually does. Though, he does his best not to ever look at Steve’s dick.

After years or yearning, Eddie is smart enough not to let that monster out of its cage to begin with – once he looks, there’s no going back. Eddie is certain he’ll never be able to glance at anything else, ever again, for the rest of his life.

That thought is immediately driven home as Eddie takes the bait that Steve sets out for him. He’s unable to stop his eyes from watching Steve’s hand trail down his chest and stomach. Especially not when Steve takes a second to toy with the thick hair leading between his legs.

There’s no going back when Steve grips himself. Eddie is not a strong enough person to blink, let alone look away from the glorious thing happening before him.

His brain is short circuiting so much that Eddie doesn’t stop for a second to consider what the actually fuck is going on. While it’s not unheard of to let out a little steam in the shower, Eddie is positive the guys who are ballsy enough to do such a thing don’t do it with another guy standing next to them. They certainly don’t choose the shower closest to another person without an ulterior motive.

It takes an embarrassingly long time for Eddie to understand the very obvious thing happening.

Cursing himself for being an oblivious idiot, Eddie unclenches the fists by his sides and allows himself to imagine the feeling of Steve’s skin under his fingertips. There’s so much wet flesh on display that Eddie has no trouble at all putting the picture together. He stumbles when the tight grip on his control starts to wither away. Now that he’s got the idea in his mind, Eddie knows he’ll never be able to resist, he’s just not strong enough.

A frustrated “fuck” leaves his lips as the burning need to reach out and touch finally consumes him. He’s greedy in the way he pulls Steve into him. Both hands wrap around Steve’s shoulders so that eager fingers can finally explore the chestnut strands Eddie’s been daydreaming about tugging on for so long. Even wet, Steve’s hair is a magical thing.

Using the touch as his leverage, Eddie leans into the obvious go-ahead that Steve’s giving him. He yanks and pulls until their lips are pressing together in a heated kiss. Though Eddie is kind of new to all of the physical stuff, he knows it’s a great kiss – his lips tingle and the want in his belly intensifies. The erection he’s been steadily ignoring since he watched Steve’s butt jiggle for the first time that day, makes itself known with a throbbing vengeance.

Without thinking about it, Eddie thrusts his hips forward… and the result is mystifying.

He and Steve are close enough that Eddie’s cock brushes against the stiff outline of Steve’s. It’s impossible to keep their lips together when the feeling of that one touch is so damn good. Breaking the kiss, Eddie lets out the moan that’s been clawing its way up his chest. The sound of it bounces off the walls and rings in his ear. It should’ve been embarrassing but Eddie’s too far gone to care.

Moving his hands to cup Steve’s cheeks, Eddie brushes their noses together, still trying to catch his breath. “I’m going to stroke us both off now, is that okay?” It seems silly to ask, they’re already pressed up so deliciously against each other, but he does it, anyway.

It’s well worth it when Steve leans forward to kiss him again, nodding all the while. Their lips linger together for a time long enough to make Eddie’s brain drip from his ears. When Steve finally pulls back, there’s a large smile on his face. “I’ve been dying for you to touch me. Make me cum, Eddie. It’s all I want.”

Eddie is shocked by how fast his left hand moves to take them both in the circle of his grip. His brain stopped working around the time Steve admitted to thinking about Eddie in any way at all. Whether Steve’s being naughty with his words or they hold some truth, Eddie doesn’t care. The primal part of him that’s been lusting over Steve for years is satisfied by the mere mention of reciprocated feelings. Since the pull is mutual, the fretting is no longer necessary.

Glad to follow his body’s instincts for once, Eddie does what feels natural. His hand wraps perfectly around the width of their cocks. It’s a full grip but Eddie’s a guitar player that’s used to the stretch some of the notes require. Holding Steve’s length against him is so much better than the stinging push of vinyl strings.

The reward is also nicer.

Steve makes noises like he’s used to knowing pleasure. They are confident and easy, done to make sure Eddie knows he’s doing a good job and to show off, too. The arrogance that comes with Steve’s hotness adds to the overall picture that Eddie’s built up in his head and he’s happy to know that it’s just as sexy in person.

Steve Harrington is drop dead gorgeous and he knows it.

The boy knows it so much that he put on a show to seduce Eddie in the worst possible setting known to man. He’s so sure of himself that he’s humping up into Eddie’s hand so the slide of sensitive skin is even better. Eddie’s torn between wanting to devour him whole and lingering around to watch more of what may unfold.

Being a horny teenage boy eventually makes the decision for them both. That all too familiar heat starts to settle in Eddie’s belly, made worse by the copious pre-cum that Steve’s dripping. It’s sticky and wet and makes the glide of Eddie’s hand so tantalizingly nice.

They stop kissing in favor of sharing breath as the cliff’s edge comes closer and closer.

Steve shuts his eyes and pitches over first, immediately dragging Eddie down with him.

Eddie’s hand doesn’t stop moving over them until Steve gasps a little and tries to pull away. The overstimulation is real but so is Eddie’s need to keep the other boy as close as possible. Their mess is already being washed away by the still running shower head above them. Soon, the evidence will be gone and Eddie’s still not sure this isn’t just a dream.

Warm hands wrap around his neck, pulling Eddie from his musings. “Stop pouting. My parents aren’t home tonight and I’m far from through with you.”

@bidisastersworld, @babygirlstevesstuff, @kyoxyukiforever, @gregre369, @steddieassheg0es, @vampireinthesun, @blackpearlcjacks, @thikkiesixx (please comment if you want to be added to the taglist for part 4.)

[stobinesque]

center stage

For the @steddiemicrofic challenge! wasn't sure I was going to do this, but then the opening image came to me in a stroke of inspiration!

Written for prompt: ‘pool’ | WC: 442 | Rated: E

CW/Tags: Kink, D/s dynamics, Public Sex, Bondage, Chastity Device, Boot Kink, Degradation/Humiliation

--

Steve slips to his knees in the pool of light at the center of the stage. He’s wearing nothing more than the ropes and cage Eddie dressed him in; his wrists bound at the small of his back in a way that presses his shoulders back, and pushes his chest out, emphasizing the swell of his pecs. Steve knows that Eddie enjoys the picture he makes in profile like this. So he leans into it — canting his hips forward, and tilting his shoulders further back for the audience he can’t see.

Eddie steps forward, blocking out the light bearing down on him. Steve’s breath catches in his throat as he takes him in — limned in golden light diffused by his wild mane of curls, the dark leather straps of his harness framing his bare chest; the wicked turn of his smile.

Eddie cups his hand around Steve’s jaw, and uses his thumb to tip his head back, until Steve has no choice but to meet Eddie’s hungry gaze.

“There you go, sweet thing.” Eddie’s voice is low and dark, his expression frankly covetous. “Ready to put on a show?”

Steve can’t nod or shake his head in Eddie’s firm grip, so he swallows around the lump in his throat and breathes out, “Yes, sir.”

Eddie hums, pulling back with a gentle slap to one cheek. “Good boy,” he says, nudging a booted foot forward. “Now get to work.”

Steve flushes in humiliation. The only way to reach Eddie’s foot with how they’re positioned is to completely prostrate himself. He leans forward slowly — careful not to overbalance and fall forward without his arms to balance him — until he’s so low to the ground that his nipples nearly brush the surface of the stage.

The position leaves his bare ass completely exposed. Anyone could come up behind him and press in with little resistance — if this was a different sort of show. Steve’s dick attempts to stiffen at the thought, because a part of him wants that. To be used by a nameless, faceless stranger while he worships Eddie’s boots. He feels empty and open, aching at the deprivation of touch.

Steve tips his head up — as best as he’s able — to meet Eddie’s gaze again, before dropping back down to press a firm kiss to the tip of his boot. The leather is soft and supple against his lips, and he can’t help the small whine that passes through his lips. He laves a tongue across the toe, tasting beeswax and linseed oil.

It’s a bitter taste, but one that Steve can’t help but chase after.

[lily-174]

protection - evan buckley x reader

overview: basically buck being really soft and comforting the reader.

requested? yes “just hold me please”

trigger warning: sad reader, cancer, angst lots of fluff

**

bobby was sat at the dinner table with the 118 when he excused himself to answer a call from athena. buck didnt think much about it just enjoying his food and laughing with eddie. the group only had a two hours left of their shift so everyone was looking forward to heading home. when bobby returned to the table he didn’t have the happy look he had previously, but looked at him with fear in his eyes his mind automatically going to the worst possible scenario.

“buck you should head home. somethings happened. y/n is okay but athena just thinks she shouldn’t be alone” nothing more was needed to be said buck sprung up from his seat. he knew you were working a new case having just past the detectives exam he knew this was so important to you. he thanked bobby and rushed down to the locker room grabbing his bag not even bothering to change. he just wanted to get home and make sure you were okay.

the whole drive back to your shared apartment, so many different possibilities were going through his head. he was trying his best to stay positive thanking god he wasn’t currently driving to the hospital. he wasted no time rushing into your apartment building.

once he reached the door he scrambled through the pile of keys he always had with him to find the right one and opening the door, he dropped his bag at the door and rushed up the stairs.

“y/n? athena called bobby he let me come home. what’s happened are you okay?” he rushed up the stairs seeing you wrapped up in the covers, he got closer to the bed seeing you curled into a ball.

“babe what’s wrong?” he asked sitting on the bed next to you rubbing your back. you turned to face him, he looked down at you and his heart dropped at the sight. your eyes rimmed red, and puffy from crying.

“my mom, she’s got cancer again.. it’s more agressive this time.” buck sighed, glancing down at you seeing the pain in your eyes hurt him. he felt his heart swell, you’d told him about the struggles this out on your family when you were a teen, and how it affected your dad’s alcoholism. he knew this was a lot, and was going to bring up some awful memories.

“is there anything i can do” he asked unsure of what to do to make you feel better, buck was your protector. always making sure you were safe, making sure you’d eaten and that you were okay. if you were out drinking he wouldn’t leave your side even going to the extent of walking you to and from the bathroom. but this, this was something he couldn’t protect you from.

“just hold me please” your voice weaker and softer then he was used to, he moved to lay next to you pulling you into his chest. the warmth the radiated of him already making you feel a little better. he had that ability, the ability to cheer you up, make you feel safe.

buck held you against him as you laid one of your legs over him and your head comfortably laying on his chest listening to the calming sound of his heartbeat. he placed a hand on your thigh and his other hand wrapped around your back holding you while trying to calm you by gently rubbing your back. you inhaled his scent one you were used to when he was on shift, the mix of his cologne a little bit of smoke and sweat but you didn’t care you were just so thankful he was there.

he wasn’t used to seeing you like this, obviously he tried his best to deal with it. but you were so strong and independent always brushing of his concern. this one time you didnt it worried him even more. he wanted to shelter you from the pain currently racing through you but he could do nothing more then to just be there for you.

you laid consumed by your thoughts in silence trying to keep your composure as you laid with your amazing boyfriend. you didn’t want to put too much pressure on him to make you feel better. you didn’t want to scare him away. but you couldn’t hold it back any longer and a few stray tears fell from your eyes. you tried hiding the few tears but buck noticed the change in your breathing a the few quiet sniffles.

“oh baby come here” he whispered his voice soothing as he pulled you up so your head was now tucked into his neck and he could wrap both his arms around you, you felt so safe in his arms. the tears fell faster and a few broken sobs fell from your lips as he whispered sweet words into your ear while rubbing your back and holding you close.

“ shes beaten this once she can do this again okay? i’m here for you, i’m not going anywhere” he whispered, his soft tone only making more sobs exit your lips, oh how you loved this man. he was one of the best guys you’d ever met in your life. so funny, protective, and even immature but that made him perfect.

you laid in the safe warm arms of your boyfriend for what felt like hours with tears falling from your eyes, until your eyes became heavy and sleep starting taking over. you tried to fight it not wanting to fall asleep yet especially while you’re pretty much laying on top of your boyfriend all of your body weight on him. but he could care less.

when you finally fell asleep buck didn’t dare move, he wouldn’t risk waking you up he just laid there arms still wrapped around you thinking of ways he could make you feel better when you woke up.

[navnae]

Ok I was listening to Need To Know by doja cat and I had this concept for the lyrics “I don't play with my pen, I mean what I write”, this is what I imagined:

Eddie is always accepting of opinions that concerned his music and his writing. He was always looking forward to ways that would make him improve. For awhile Eddie asked the party about what they thought of a few songs he’s written and the feedback came back positive, he was especially shocked when Steve chimed in with a ‘I like it’ just by reading Eddie’s lyrics. From then on Steve’s opinion really mattered to Eddie since it wasn’t really his type of music but he still found himself enjoying it.

This time Eddie made a big jump with his writing and he wrote a song that was kind of intimate while slightly being intimate. It wasn’t about anyone in particular it was just something his brain came up with. That didn’t mean there wasn’t in truth in his writing though, no matter who ended up with he was going to make sure that he gave them the world. He hoped that message would be received by Steve when he would stop by the trailer.

Later on in the day Steve came over and they hung out like usual. Talking about all the things that’s happened in Hawkins for the past few weeks eventually they lost track of time. Eddie didn’t realize how much time had past until he glanced towards the window and he saw that it was pitch black. That reminded him the whole point of Steve stopping by was to get his input on the new lyrics he’s written.

“Oh! I completely forgot that I was supposed to show you some new lyrics I wrote, wanna see?” Eddie asked as he sat up on the couch.

“Sure.” Steve responded. Eddie smiled before he got up and walked into his room. After a few minutes of rummaging through his stuff that was inside his drawers he finally found the piece of paper that had his writing on it and of course it had all kinds of folds in it because it was impossible for Eddie to keep things organized. He mentally scolded himself then quickly went back into the living room where Steve sat patiently on the couch.

“Okay before you critique anything be mindful that this is the first time I’ve written something like this and it’s pretty different from what you’ve read in the past. So don’t be too harsh about it.” Eddie warned. He knew Steve wasn’t going to be shitty about his writing even if he did believe that it sucked but just in case Eddie needed to put that out there.

“Munson you’re an amazing writer man. I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to change that.” Steve waved the sheet of paper in his hand as he laughed lightly. Eddie laughed alongside him and he felt a little bit relieved to hear that Steve thought that highly of his writing. He’ll never know that Eddie genuinely appreciated his opinions on a lot of things because it was rare for Steve to speak his mind let alone being brutally honest too.

Eddie watched Steve scan over the sheet and at first he felt proud because the smile on Steve’s face got wider. Until halfway through reading he smoke faded and nothing but shock was on his face. Eddie was ready to hear what he needed to work on and how he probably shouldn’t write anything like that again. Steve took his time reading every single word thinking that he was reading it wrong but he wasn’t, everything on the paper he read correctly. He couldn’t believe that Eddie wrote something so beautiful yet so erotic at the same time. Steve tried not get flustered from what was being said the further down he went on the paper. Eddie noticed that every second Steve’s face started to get red and he could’ve sworn that he heard a faint gasp come from him then again Eddie was problem imagining things. When Steve finished reading the paper his mind was thinking thoughts that he never would’ve imagined he would half and all of them consisted of Eddie. Steve’s had his fair share of listening to songs that were about the devils tango and they never made him feel the way Eddie’s lyrics made him feel, it felt like Eddie was talking to him. Eddie assumed that Steve didn’t like it because he sat there quietly with his face getting redder every minute.

“Is it that bad?” Eddie asked. He jumped when Steve turned to face him in a quick manner almost breaking his neck in the process

“No no not in the slightest. I think I might love this actually.” Steve admitted his cheeks were a light pink shade the more he thought about what he just read. Eddie definitely was taken aback by Steve’s honesty.

“Really? You don’t think it’s too much or anything.” Eddie still couldn’t believe that Steve said he ‘loved’ this new piece when in reality Eddie was in the verge of throwing it out all together.

“It’s perfect. I’m just a little shocked by how detailed and passionate it is. If you don’t mind me asking is this about someone that you’re interested in?” Steve let the words come out of his mouth without even thinking about how invasive he was being. He didn’t know why he cared if Eddie was talking about someone specifically. Steve covered his face with his hands feeling all his embarrassment rushing through him. “I’m sorry it’s none of my businesses, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s alright Harrington I don’t mind. To be completely honest with you it’s not about anyone. I simply made it up.” Eddie shrugged. It became second nature to him to create a storyline that wasn’t necessarily true but it got the job done to express how he feels. Steve nodded his head as he took in that information. A part of him was kind of glad that Eddie wasn’t talking about anybody making him feel at ease.

“To say that you didn’t write this with anyone in mind is already impressive and the fact that you made it sound hot too is just…” Steve trailed off. Eddie perked up on the couch now he was really intrigued by what Steve thought about his lyrics and if he was holding back something he wasn’t telling him.

“Hold on. You thought it was hot?” Eddie asked. Steve blushed instantly and started rubbing the back of his neck. Eddie hid his smirk underneath his hand as he raised his hand over his mouth. Steve couldn’t keep his composure for long before he became a blushing mess.

“I mean yeah but not in a weird way. The way you set the scene was very intimate and when I visualized it in my head the image ended up being…hot.” Steve mumbled. Eddie leaned back on the couch and licked his lips before smiling. Steve blinked rapidly at the sight of Eddie slightly opening his legs as he relaxed into the couch. He avoided looking at Eddie and his eyes landed on his lap. “B-but I mean you said it was made up so all of that was just talk, nothing to take to seriously.”

“For some people maybe but even though I made it up that doesn’t there isn’t any truth in it.” Eddie made sure to lower his voice a little as he spoke and that got an amazing reaction out of Steve.

“What do you mean?” Steve managed to say without stuttering. Whatever Eddie was implying made his entire body burn up.

“What I mean is I don’t lie about the things I write, Harrington.” Eddie put emphasis on Steve’s name. Steve shivered at the way his name rolled off of Eddie’s tongue. If this conversation continued anymore Steve was going to question himself the whole night.

“O-of course. I wasn’t saying you were I was just -“

“Jesus man I’m just fucking with you.” Eddie started laughing at the look on Steve’s face that was in complete shock. Steve relaxed a little and he started to laugh too. For a split second Steve kind of wanted Eddie to go into detail about which part of his writing was he telling the truth because some of it wouldn’t even be allowed on the radio.

“Well,” Eddie started. “Kinda.”

He left the conversation at that and they sat in silence. Steve’s heart started beating out of his chest as Eddie’s words replayed in his head and still didn’t know what any of it meant. Eddie on the other hand thought about what other ideas could he put into his lyrics to make Steve get this flustered.

[dadsbongos]

chapter 3 - hungry howie's big date

2.6K words

warnings - mmm? daddy issues, i think that's it

prev. chapter / masterlist / next chapter

It’s during third-period chemistry with his favorite lab partner, Chrissy Cunningham, that Eddie is interrupted from work he was actually looking forward to. By Michael Wheeler of all people.

“Journalism Pass!” Mike holds up the back of his sister’s badge to Mrs. Clink and she bats her hand dismissively.

Chrissy tightens the scratched plastic goggles around her head while Eddie leans his hip against their work table, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, “Yes, Wheeler?”

“There’s a showing of Rocky Horror that I wanna take Jane to this weekend.”

Eddie snorts, peeking over his shoulder at Chrissy, pressing the palm of her hand into her glossed lips to keep back her giggles, “That’s an R-rated movie, wonderboy.”

“Yeah,” Mike rolls his eyes, “and I still can’t date my girlfriend unless you’re dating her sister. So we both have good points.”

Brows shooting to her hairline, Chrissy “woah”s at the little guy’s audacity.

Eddie gestures flippantly to the lanky mess in front of him, “Right? Worse than Henderson, I tell you.”

She wide-eyed nods in agreement.

Returning to his cash cow, Eddie tilts his head - eyes narrowed, “So what? You wanna double-date at Rocky Horror?”

“No, obviously not,” looking through his peripherals, Mike notices Mrs. Clink staring at them a little too hard and turns so his and Eddie’s backs are facing the woman, “I just need you two to be out on a date so I can take out Jane. I also need you to get us into the movie and then leave. Or sit in a different row.”

So demanding, so unfavorable.

Eddie sticks out a hand, palm up, “Fifty. Now.”

Through a positively murderous stare, Mike asks, “What makes you think I have fifty bucks on me right now?”

A long huff passes through Eddie’s nose, “You’re a spoiled, conniving, upper-class nerd and you’re one of my best friends,” he curls his fingers into a fist twice before shoving his flat palm closer to Mike, “Now cough it.”

Similarly sighing, Mike bends down at the knee and yanks out a folded stack of crinkly ten-dollar bills from his sock.

Snatching up the money, Eddie pats Mike’s head as one would a dog, “Now if you wanna complete your Munson-ification process, stop carrying fat wads on your person,” he slaps the pad of tens against the bridge of Mike’s nose, “Everyone knows you’re rich, Wheeler - don’t flaunt it.”

Before Mike gets the chance to properly defend himself, Eddie tucks the money into the snug waistband of his boxers and shoos him away.

“I’ll figure out something for my beloved shrew, but right now Cunningham and I need to light scraps of metal on fire for an hour,” Eddie nudges Mike back by the shoulder and returns to the girl’s side.

She’s tugging on her rubber gloves while Eddie puts on his own pair of safety goggles.

“You know anything interesting going on this weekend?”

Blinking, Chrissy hums before the blankness brightens, “I think there’s an H&M sale in Indianapolis featuring some Laura Ashley stuff. She might like that.”

“Something easier on my fifty-buck budget, please?” he watches her light the Bunsen burner.

Shaking her head, Chrissy pouts, “Sorry, Eddie.”

“No worries,” he stares up at the water-stained ceiling, “I’ll just have to get my own idea.”

And getting Eddie to have his own idea is like asking a teen movie to not rip off the movies before it.

Eddie’s van sputters up to the Hopper cabin precisely two minutes after he said it would. Black backdrop and twinkling stars watch you shoo Eleven off and they awkwardly pull their collars and glance away when your father sternly calls your name before you can follow.

“You’ve had a bad attitude lately,” his hands are on his hips and he’s barely gotten out of his uniform, “I know you’re growing up and need your space, but if you’re gonna go out with this guy then I need to know who the man is.”

And flashing, headache-inducing red lights blare in the back of your mind at the idea of him meeting Eddie. So you resort to manipulation, “He’s a friend of Mike’s - isn’t that enough?”

“No,” he removes the Sheriff’s hat he’s always claimed squeezes too tight and runs a hand through his hair, “I barely like Mike. You expect me to like a senior he’s friends with that I’ve never even met?”

Glancing back, you can barely make out the pinched brows and overly invested lean of Eddie Munson’s concern through his tinted windows.

“Eddie Munson,” you’re too tired to fight and your eldest daughter intuition tells you Jim’s pager is about to go off soon anyways, “that’s the friend.”

“No!” he puts both hands up, evidently distressed, and you find joy in the way his gray hairs must be growing in, “No way.”

“Yes way,” you shrug and waltz towards the van, waving off your father, “I like him so play nice!” and you aren’t totally sure if you’re really saying that to piss him off or if it’s true. Jim opens his mouth to retort, so you lug the passenger side door open and shout before he can, “Can’t hear you over the pager that’s about to go off in two seconds!”

And before you’ve even got the van door closed, his pager does - in fact - go off.

Eddie wants to ask, and you see that, so you just nudge him with your elbow and he pulls out of the dirt driveway quickly.

“Intense fight there,” Eddie hisses through his teeth, “Honestly, I was about to put earmuffs on the kids - it was scary.”

It’s his way of prodding. Avoiding rejection by pretending it could be a joke and then still getting hurt if you turn him down.

“He’s just been up my ass ‘cuz I’m not going to college.”

Eleven comes forward, face puffing up between yours and Eddie’s seats, “You’re not going to college?!”

You shove her back by the shoulder, sick to the stomach at the idea of explaining your life plan (or lack thereof) to your little sister, “What’s the plan for tonight, Munster?”

“For them,” he braces, arms stiff and eyes nervously flickering between you and the rearview mirror, “an R-rated movie. For us? Leaving before the movie to go somewhere totally romantic.”

Avoiding rejection by pretending it could be a joke - his true specialty.

“Sounds spectacular,” you muse, and his arms loosen from their ramrod-straight position.

Totally romantic ends up being at Lover’s Lake next to his van. A threadbare, plaid blanket with a mysterious black stain in the upper right corner is laid over surrounding grass and rocks with a Hungry Howie’s Taxi yellow pizza box in the middle. You suspect the pizza is room temperature by now, but Eddie is nervously picking at his shoelace as he waits for you to sit down, so you choose to not say anything.

As soon as you sit beside him, Eddie shoots up onto his feet, hands bracing you for patience, “I almost forgot!”

Eddie slams open the back doors and disappears inside, you hear a clunk and curse before he tramples back out, uneven-footed and stumbling. A boombox in both hands, he sets it down and presses play.

The borderline waxing poetic opening guitar to Cinderella’s ‘Nobody’s Fool’ crackles over the speakers and Eddie hurriedly turns it down to a gentler hum.

“As long as you don’t listen to the lyrics, it’s kind of romantic,” Eddie pops open the Hungry Howie’s box and grease stains dot the top, “You probably don’t know, but most metal ballads- “ he gestures to the boombox leaking out Tom Keifer with raised brows, “even hair metal ballads - are not super romantic.”

“I can pretend,” you lean over his outstretched leg and brush against his leather-clad side to grab one of Howie’s infamously thick slices, “This is already the most well-thought-out date I’ve been on.”

And you haven’t been on many dates. Eddie knows that, too, but he decides to keep his big trap shut.

The pizza is room temperature by now, but Eddie so nervously tucks an arm into the swirling pit of his stomach and you decide to keep your own trap shut. Eddie can’t say why he’s so nervous - it shouldn’t matter whether or not you actually like him. It really, really shouldn’t, but he can’t help but hope you do.

“Uhm, so,” his eyes look nice under the shiny little pinprick stars, and you chastise yourself for focusing on that when he’s trying to talk to you, “I’m more than happy to listen if you wanna bitch about your problems with the old man. Not that you would be, you know, bitching bitching, just complaining. Yeah, complain. ‘Cuz you’re not a bitch, you know that- “

“Thanks, Eddie,” you cut him off, a hand on his shoulder. You finish off the slice of pizza in your other hand and shrug, “I mean, bitching doesn’t sound too bad if you actually mean it.”

“‘Course I do,” he turns to face you completely, the gentle swoosh of the lake water under moonlight easily forgotten in favor of you, “Trust me, sweetheart, if anyone gets parental problems, it’s me.”

“Well,” you normally have trouble talking about things like this, but something about Eddie makes you feel open. Like a social worker’s dream, he is the softest couch and sweetest candy bowl, “He’s always busy with work - way too busy for me and Jane. And when he is home, it’s about me not going to college and Jane’s stupid high school romance and my attitude as if he’s not the dickhead that causes it all in the first place…” you sigh, a physical weight off your chest, “Only good thing to come of his bullshit lately is that I get to paint in my ex-mom’s storage unit downtown.”

“Ex-mom is an interesting term.”

“Diane wanted to adopt me as a last-ditch attempt to save the family after their birth daughter died,” the years of this exact thought process echoing around your head prevent you from shutting up, “And then she decided she wanted nothing to do with either of us and just,” you make a ‘scatter-off’ motion with your hands, “Left behind divorce papers and then Jim was a wild alcoholic and wilder smoker until Jane came along and then… suddenly he wants to be better.”

The clarity hits you like a stack of bricks, that you spilled your guts embarrassingly fast and that mortification makes you look over to Eddie, who stares back with wide eyes.

“Anyways…”

“No, just- “ he grins and you can’t help but grin back, “I’ve never had someone actually trust me to just let go like that,”

“I’m glad to be the first.”

If Eddie truly had no inhibitions, he would’ve said he wants you to be his last.

And he doesn’t know where that comes from.

“What do you paint about?” so he leans back on his elbow and breaks the thick air. Shatters it completely like it was nothing to begin with.

You cringe preemptively, “My feelings.”

“Oh, a poetic type,” he punches your shoulder softly, “It’s cool, I write songs about that. All the mucky shit.”

You turn onto your stomach, propping your head up on your elbows and ignoring the soft ache it initially stirs in your chest, “Will you ever show me one of your songs?”

“Only if you show me your art.”

“You’re moving a bit fast.”

“Nah, that’s only - like - first base.”

You two linger there. Soft eyes and pouty lips and pizza cooling under the night sky. He hums, entirely to himself, and you lean forward to nudge his arm.

“What’s going on in your pretty head, Munster?”

“Honestly,” he’s quiet. So much quieter than he normally is, and that’s as scary as realizing his rejection hurt your feelings, “I’m just thinking about how you’re not nearly as mean as everyone says.”

“Yeah,” you turn onto your back, eyes up at the stars instead of Eddie’s kind face, “people usually assume you’re a bitch when you’re not smiling at them 24/7.”

He doesn’t respond, and that would be terrifying if he wasn’t motioning for you to continue.

“I mean, I’m not surprised,” so continue, you do, “People usually just expect women to smile and nod to whatever they say as if there’s no thoughts or feelings to each person,” at his persistent silence, you inhale sharply, “First base was actually my feminist rant all along.”

You look back over to Eddie and he’s smiling so big and wide, all for you - at the fear of misspeaking, he intentionally makes himself BooBoo the Fool, “I love Debbie Harry.”

“Oh my God!” you swat his shoulder and he falls onto his own back.

“I’m kidding,” his head swivels to lock eyes with you, sweet bambi eyes nothing except sincere, “but feminism is metal. Equality for all, I fuck with that.”

“I’m glad,” a sudden memory makes you giggle, and at Eddie’s curious stare you expand, “I actually dumped Jason Carver in freshman year because he said women should obey their husbands.”

He gags histrionically, “I’d never say that.”

“I figure.”

You’ve heard from older women the dangers of getting wine drunk with no men to kiss - being that sauced with that intense a romantic urge could kill someone, you’ve heard. And it’s strange - how just being around Eddie can drive you as mad as the stories you’ve heard.

You turn again, onto your side now, “Are you drunk?”

He looks at you like you’re nuts and you’re almost embarrassed at the fact that Eddie can actually drive you so crazy, “No.”

“I’m not drunk either.”

It takes him a painfully visible minute until finally, the lightbulb above his wild hair dings alight and Eddie excitedly matches your position. He tenderly puts a hand on your cheek, calluses purely lovely on your skin as he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

The ache in your chest that you imagine is what the prolonged poison of having no man to kiss when wine drunk hits, you nod, bizarrely giggly, “It’d feel like a personal attack if you didn’t.”

Maybe you were scared for nothing. Eddie seems like a sweet guy with sweet intentions and sweet words. His kiss is sweet, too. It tastes like the tomato sauce of Hungry Howie’s pizza and the weed he smokes and no sinister third thing lingers.

Eddie, however, feels sick. He needs to talk to Mike and he knows Wayne would punch any other guy straight in the head for doing what he’s done to you. He likes you. He likes your bitterness and your anger and the way you roll your eyes at his antics and he wants to soften your edges and he wants to be your one moment of sunshine. He can’t do that if he’s taking money to date you, so he needs to talk to Mike.

But for now, he likes kissing you on his old blanket with the coffee stain he can never get out and cold Hungry Howie’s pizza an arm’s length away.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Eddie has never doubted himself to the point of getting a hideous stomach ache, not even when he had to perform with Corroded Coffin in middle school, “I think I’m falling in love with her, Wheeler.”

“That’s perfect!” Mike, on the other hand, is purely ecstatic, teeth on display as he smiles, “Just keep taking her out, but without me paying you - Jane and I can keep seeing each other and you two are happy. Done deal, Munson,” and this excitement gives him the courage to smack Eddie on the arm, “Just be cool about it.”

“So just don’t tell her?”

“Exactly.”

His stomach twists tighter at that idea, but he swallows it down and pretends to be a little bigger than he is.

“Fine,” finally, he sighs it out, “We don’t talk about it.”

“We don’t talk about it.”

~~ how we rockin? good? good?

going outta state for like 3 days and remembered i should probably update this while i have it

[warrenwrites]

Want a Bite?

Want a Bite? Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Completely self indulgent fic based on my desire to bite Eddie’s Perfect waist

Thank you so much for proof reading @sugars-fluffy-escapes :D

Word count: 2K

The two of you were unwinding at the end of the long week, finally sitting down after a seven-day work streak. While you flipped through the various takeout menus on the coffee table, Eddie was rummaging through the top cupboards, too thirsty to wait for whatever you were about to order to be ready.

He’d caught your eye, as he usually did, when he raised his arms above his head to get the two of you glasses. The position gave you an unobstructed view of the very body that made your brain switch off its common sense. God, you loved his perfect waist and pillowy chest. How does someone even have an attractive back? It was a cosmic blessing and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Not that you tried, by that point you had completely ignored the menu in your hand and were now just admiring how he looked in his fitted, black, Osbourne T-shirt, eyebrow raised as you shamelessly checked him out.

Turning around, he busted you in the act and forced himself to restrain a smile into a smirk. “Can I help you, Pervert?” He joked, eyes challenging yours, and loosing as your admiration was stronger than steel.

You licked your bottom lip, mouth hanging open for a moment while you thought of the right words to perfectly articulate the thoughts running ramped, acting absolutely feral, in your mind. “I want to bite your waist.”

Eddie shook his head and laughed, taken back in disbelief. “What did you just say?"

"Biteable." You said, emphasizing the word like it wasn't being used in the most bizarre context. "You have a biteable waist."

Eddie was almost speechless, "You're gonna have to give me more than that, Pretty." His face was scrunched in confusion but the cheesy smile was still plastered to his face

"Eddie Munson.” You put down the menu and leant forward, hands holding up your body weight as you leant across the couch, towards his direction. “I am obsessed with you; you have a perfect body-"

"Stahp!" He insisted, scrunching his face as he rapidly turned his body around, uncrossing his arms to finish pouring your drinks.

"-and I want to sink my teeth into your waist, respectfully.”

Eddie was visibly embarrassed by your burst of affection. His eyeline was focused only on the ground in a half-ass attempt to hide in his hair. He was far too distracted to wipe the smile off his face so when he took his seat next to you, you could see the laugh lines dented aggressively in his face.

He put the drinks down and snatched the menu off of the coffee table. “I’ll handle this! You don’t seem to be getting anywhere and I'm starving.”

You grabbed his bicep to pull yourself closer to him. “Me too,” you teased raising your eyebrows, trying to catch his eyeline the way he does to you.

Still bashful, Eddie grumbled, jostling his shoulders to jokingly shove you off but immediately put his hand over yours to keep you there, not like you made any motion to move in the first place. “You just want me for my body.”

Leaning closer into his ear, you spoke with a smile, “don’t you dare blame me.”

You swear you could feel his face steaming as he twitched his head away from you and moved to wrap one arm around your waist and the other around your legs to toss you back onto the couch. 

You screamed in shock, laughing as he stood up, marching over to the phone that was mounted on the wall. “You’re a freak, beautiful.” He cursed, dialing the number to your most local pizza place.

 Adrenaline coursed through your veins, fueled by his flustered responses, so you stood and made your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling him jolt in what you assumed to be surprise since his free hand shot down to grab yours.

Swaying slightly, you let him order in peace, pressing your cheek into his back and planting a soft kiss on the back of his shoulder as he hung up. “I’m sorry you’re too shy to take my compliments, Baby.”

Grumbling, he grabs your hands in both of his and spins himself around, pinning your hands to his chest as he walked you back towards the couch. “You. Are a fiend. Do you know that? A vixen.”

“I said what I said.” He narrowed his eyes and spun the two off you around to switch positions. You shrieked as he pulled you into his chest and fell back onto the couch.

You maneuvered yourselves around so you were resting face down on his chest. Eddie was slightly propped up on the arm rest, right leg bent, resting against the back of the couch with his foot resting flat on the chair. His other leg was slightly hanging off the chair, giving you room to lay on top of him while he encaged you in his arms.

After a calm moment the two of you nearly drifted off in comfort so Eddie grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and dropped it over the two of you, resting his arms over the top of it, hugging you closer into his chest.

You smiled at the gesture, “awwww,” you coo’d, nuzzling further into his chest. “You’re so cute.

Eddie huffed through his nose, “I was cold,” he defended. “I don’t care about you,” he joked.

“How dare you,” you feigned anger. hand gripping his shirt, fingers brushing against his sides. It was so slow and meticulous that he couldn’t help but twitch his whole body, only barely catching his laughter in his throat.

Your eyebrow raised and he felt your cheeks move as you smiled wickedly against his chest before lifting your head to stare him down. “Eddie.”

“Uh-uh!” he protests, squirming in his trapped position, halting abruptly when you slipped your hands up his shirt and scratched at his sides with far more torturous intention this time.

You had expected him to flinch a little again, maybe grab your hands but as it turns out, your boyfriend was ticklish. And as an added bonus, his hands were blocked above the blanket and his vicious girlfriend, so instead he burst into a flurry of giggles and hugged you tight to his chest as some sort of a brace from the sensation.

He could barely speak. “WAIT! NoohohohoOOHOHOHO STA HA HA HA HAAAAP!”

“Now how could you keep something like this from me?” You teased, switching your method from scratching to scribbling around his torso. “This is too sweet!” You were over the moon, watching him giggle and toss his head back and forth in a pathetic attempt to fight off the sensation.

“IHIHIHI CAHAHAHAN’T PLEHEHEHEASEESE!” He begged.

“What do you mean you can’t? The only thing you have to do right now is laugh,” his giggles had inspired something cruel in you. “And you’re doing that perfectly.”

“Ihihihih’m gohohohnna gehet you bahahahaaack, I swehehehear.” You could feel him tossing and turning, not wanting to pull his elbows away from his torso but wanting desperately to grab at any part of your body in revenge but not quite being able to reach at his angle.

“Awwww, are you trapped, are you trapped?” you prodded, switching between fast and slow-paced scribbles. 

He tossed his head back and he swayed you back and forth on the couch, trying to bring his knees to his stomach before they were blocked by your body. “VIXEN! I wahahahs rihihihihihiiiight!”

You took mercy on him, bringing your hands to a halt as you laughed sweetly at the sight in front of you. You almost felt bad, he looked so cute with his puffed, red cheeks, messy hair and heaving, bubbling chest as the residual giggles fell out of his mouth. You just wanted to-

Goddammit.

“I have to do it.”

“Dohoho whahahat?” He asked, not nearly as scared as he should have been.

Shuffling yourself down, you pulled the blanket over your head and lifted his shirt to get clear access to his torso. You used your other hand to brace yourself on by his hip and dropped your head down to lightly bite down on the fleshy part of his waist.

Eddie absolutely screamed for mercy, barely audible words poured out of his mouth, drowned in the screamed and giggles commanded by the sensations “AHHHAHAHAHAHAA BAHAHAAAB- AH FUCK!”

You were only lightly nibbling at his side in little nips but it was enough to send him completely mental and he grabbed your shoulders to tirelessly pull you off. With one last bout of mischief, you wiggled your fingers at the hip you were using to brace yourself. “I was riiiight,” you teased before submitting him to a hellish combination of bites and scribbles, it was officially too much for Eddie as he let out a loud, belly scream, flinching and folding his body so aggressively that the two of you fell off the couch.

You landed with an “oomph” onto the floor, blanket entangled between you and Eddie who now lay giggling on top of you. “Yohou ohokay?” you asked, rubbing your hand up his back to before finding residence in his hair.

He let out a soft, sulky moan through his giggles and refused to lift his head from your chest. “Yohohou’re cruhuhel.”

You hummed happily, extremely proud of yourself and tugged his hair to get him to lift his head to face you. “I’m almost sorry.”

“Was it ahall you hoped for and mohore?” He laughed, raising his head to look at you through shaggy hair.

“Not even close,” you smiled. “I think I need to keep going,” you shrugged, devious smile planted on your face. You were of course kidding but Eddie didn’t pick up on that at all.

You’d never seen someone move so fast. Eddie shot up, threw the blanket over your head, holding it tightly for a second while you fought it and by the time you were free, he was half way across the room, putting his hand out in a taming motion. “Nononohoho, don’t you dare, uh-uh, I swear I will reign hellfire on you for your treacherous and deviant ways.”

Tossing your head back in laughter you stood, draping the blanket back over the couch and reaching for something on the coffee table. Eddie kept his position and you mocked it back, slowly approaching him with your hands held in a ‘truce’ motion. 

When you arrived to stand in front of him you opened your palm, revealing his keys dangling from your hand. “Easy, Munson. You deserve a break,” you laughed. “Common, the food will be ready soon. I’ll drive.”

As you turned to the door you felt him snatch the keys out of your hands. “You absolutely will not,” he insisted, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go, Shotgun. Man, I'm starving, can’t imagine why though.”

“ihi’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” you giggled in response, “you just go such a nice shade of red.” You planted a kiss on his cheek and accidentally tightened your arm around his side causing him to flinch.

“AYE-”

“Sorry! Sorry! Accident. Not my fault you’re so sensitive.” As you walked out the door you moved out from under his arm, stopping as Eddie opened the car door for you to climb in.

“Watch it, Beautiful. You keep talking and i’m biting every inch of your body, ‘til you’re screaming the roof down.” Before you could even make a comment about him having given a perfect demonstration, he began to move away from the door, so you called back quickly.

“Oh Eddie?”

He leant forward, awaiting what he assumed was going to be a kiss. “Yes, Sweetness?”

“You have a great waist,” you smiled, watching the red return to his cheeks.

Biting back a smile, he made a motion as if he was about to jokingly slam the door but ultimately decided against it. “You’re lucky I’m so into you.” He spoke before gently shutting your door, hopping around in a run to the driver’s seat all the while internally plotting his revenge and trying to shake his head loose of the image of you giggling and shrieking underneath him.