#and eddie blushes a little and ducks his head and gets them moving again and says

[buckdiazlafd]

.

[hairmetal666]

"I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he declares to all and sundry (Steve and Robin) in Family Video.

Steve laughs, ducks his head, hair a bountiful cascade that doesn't move an inch. He's blushing but it's not, like, a reaction to the sentiment of marriage. Steve knows Eddie is just like that, flirtatious and over-the-top and incapable of not speaking his thoughts as soon as they enter his head.

Robin roles her eyes, goes back to flipping through her magazine, something about cinema, and Eddie swipes his just rented movies off the counter.

"You think I'm joking," he twists so he's facing them, walking backwards to the door. "But I swear it, oh, beloved purveyor of movies and deleter of late fees."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve's face is pinker than before and Eddie recognizes and immediately forces himself to forget how cute it is. "But get out of here before I change my mind."

And Eddie, he loves to push his luck and also has very little filter between his brain and his mouth, so he says, "aw, don't be that way, Stevie, you love me."

Robin looks up, then, mouth a pursed twist as she tries not to laugh. "Gross, Eddie." She throws a Sour Patch at him. "Keep all that mushy stuff to when you two are alone."

It's his turn to blush, fierce and raging, and Steve whirls, squeaking, to whack Robin with a Twizzler.

Eddie points at her. "Rude, Buckley. You know I love you too."

"Again, gross." She sticks out her tongue, tinged blue from the Sour Patch.

"We really need to work on your ability to accept affection," Steve tells her.

She scowls, kicks him, makes Eddie laugh.

"I think that's my cue to leave, children." He says. He, quite literally, bows out of the store, just missing the barrage of candy thrown his way.

---

Three Months Later

Eddie stumbles into the Harrington house, kicking his boots off by the door. Steve's in the kitchen, fussing around the stove. His hair's askew and he's--

"Harrington, are you wearing an apron?" He ignores the kick in his chest at the sight. "You'll make a sweet little housewife one day."

"Shut-up," Steve says without any heat. "Try this."

He brandishes a spoon filled with red sauce in Eddie's direction, and Eddie--heart always on his sleeve--eagerly leans in to taste. He closes his eyes, savors, and it's good, truly. Perfect fresh acidity with just a burst of sweetness.

"It's amazing, baby," he says without thinking. He opens his eyes right in time to see Steve turning back to the sauce, blush high on his cheekbones.

"Thanks. You're making me nervous though, hovering." Steve hip checks him. "Go sit somewhere."

And Eddie does, jumps onto the island--the Harrington's are the kind of people who have an island--and chatters to Steve about his day, about his new campaign, about the new song he's trying to learn.

All the while, he's watching Steve cook, in his apron, with such care and thoughtfulness, with true command. Maybe it's the domesticity of the scene, maybe his raging crush, but he has this flash of the two of them in the future. In their kitchen, Steve cooking dinner, and Eddie's arms are wrapped around his waist, he's pressing kisses to his temple, complimenting all his hard work and--

Steve feeds him a bite of the finished pasta, and it's so good that he groans, full-throated, unembarrassed, and says--he says, "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington."

He laughs, face pink, batting Eddie's shoulder. "Go sit down, man. It's time to eat."

---

Two Months After That

Eddie's working on a new campaign when the storm rolls in, wind rocking the trailer, thunder and lightning crackling in the sky. The power doesn't go out, but only just barely, the flickers making his heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with weather.

There's a knock on the trailer door, and he opens it to find Steve Harrington standing on the porch, hair plastered to his head, clothes soaked. Robin's bike is propped against one of the awning supports. Familiar panic snaps to life in his gut.

"God, Steve, are you okay? Did something happen? That's Robin's bike, where's the Beamer? Is it--is it Vecna? Is--" He's blabbering can't stop, so he shoves his palm against his lips.

"It's not--not Upside Down stuff." He runs a hand through his soggy hair. "Can I come in, man? I--I want to tell you something."

This snaps Eddie out of his panic, and he's moving aside, saying, "Oh my god, get in here, you're soaked. Let me get towels. Do you want a change of clothes, I can--"

Steve catches him by the elbow and he full stops at the look in those big hazel eyes, fearful and sad and he doesn't know what, but his anxiety amps back up.

"I was with Robin and we were--we were talking, you know? And I told her that I like somebody, like really like them, but it was unexpected and--and--it's a guy. He's a guy but I still like girls? Robin said--she said that I'm probably bisexual. That I like guys and girls and--and everyone, I think."

It sends shockwaves through him, and he hopes it doesn't show, doesn't think it shows, but he's having trouble processing. Steve is bi and he likes someone and--Eddie stuffs down the jealousy that claws at him, knows it's more important that he's here for his friend.

"Thank you for telling me, sweetheart." He reaches out, slow in case Steve doesn't want to be hugged, but he launches himself into Eddie's arms.

Eddie holds him tight, heedless of his wet clothes, can feel his shoulders shake, and it tears Eddie's heart in two. All he can do is hold Steve and offer comfort, jealousy be damned.

"You're so brave, honey," he says once the tears taper off.

Steve gives a wet chuckle, face still buried against Eddie's neck. "I don't know about that. I think I got snot in your hair."

"It'll wash out." He laughs. "Is now the time to welcome you to the family? Apparently, we're growing exponentially."

"Does the welcome include a cake or something? I could really use cake."

And God, Steve, is so fucking cute, so sweet, so--everything Eddie has always wanted, and he--it's an accident, or at least, thoughtless--he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. More than one.

Steve pulls back fast, and Eddie lets go immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I--that was stupid. You like someone already, and I--"

His words are cut off as Steve kisses him. Steve kisses him? His brain can't process, but he kisses back. Can't not, not with Steve. Like, he doesn't know anything, head empty, but his body is with the program.

They break apart, he's breathing hard. Steve is beautifully flushed, mouth red and swollen. "You like someone," is what Eddie says.

Steve laughs. "I like you, Munson. Fucking crazy about you."

He smiles, so big it hurts, so big it grows into a delight laugh. "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he says.

---

Six Years Later

They're in bed, Saturday morning, rain pattering softly on the window.

Steve places slow kisses against his naked tummy, makes him tremble, shiver with overstimulation.

"Baby," he whines. "Sweetheart."

Steve smiles up at him, something cold pressing against his ribs, then into his hand.

It's a ring, black metal, shiny and iridescent as he turns it in the light. "What--Steve?"

With one last kiss to his hip bone, Steve sits up, slips the ring onto Eddie's finger. "I'm going to marry you one day, Eddie Munson."

[hotluncheddie]

eddie, steve

.🥞✨

‘uh, the pancakes with bacon please, extra syrup? thanks.’

eddie knows that order. he makes it every saturday night, so late it’s almost morning.

but he’s never heard that voice before, never heard it so close, right by the pass window.

he swallows. turning from the sink in the back to face out into the diner, someone’s sat at the counter, right across from him.

the most beautiful boy eddie’s ever seen.

he’s looking right at eddie, cheeks slightly pink, fiddling with a still wrapped straw. he looks perfect and cozy and adorable, hair sleep rumpled and in a hoodie that swallows up his soft lines, making him look even softer.

‘coming right up.’ eddie rasps, his own cheeks colouring.

but the boy, he smiles. ducks his head, looks up at eddie through his lashes.

eddie’s a fucking goner.

-

steve can’t believe it. his eyes are even bigger this close up, big and brown and sparkling with life.

his hands are just as nice this close up too, delicate but capable as they move around where steve can see. he sticks his tongue out a little when he concentrates. it’s adorable.

he’s the prettiest guy steve’s ever seen.

he puts steves finished pancakes in the window with a little smile, rings the bell and seems to blush even harder. almost cringing at the sound. it’s makes steve laugh, he’s cute.

and they’re still the best pancakes the midwest has to offer, at denny’s, at 3am. even sober and nervous and exited like he is.

steve can’t help closing his eyes like always when he takes his first bite. always blown away by their sweet fluffy texture. and he makes his way through them a little quicker than normal, without robin to distract him.

they taste as good as normal but he’s right there. right there watching steve eat them. something about it makes him feel shy, barely daring to look up from his plate. but when he does the line cook has the softest smile on his face and steve relaxes, tucks his hand under his hoodie to rest on his stomach like normal. finished his pancakes.

when steve looks up again, the guy is staring at his empty plate, kind of stuck in space. but then he vanished for a moment and the door to the kitchen opens. and he’s coming over, picking up the syrupy plate and he has freckles, bats tattooed on his arm.

he’s so close. he’s so pretty this close.

the prettiest guy steve’s ever seen.

‘eddie?’ steve blurts, exited, finally able to read his name tag. his names eddie.

his name is eddie.

eddie’s cheeks get pink, the tips of his ears. he looks at steve with wide eyes ‘yeah?’ he asks, voice small and confused.

steve grins at him. ‘your names eddie.’ and he watched eddie’s smile bloom, he has dimples.

‘wha’ eddie clears his throat. ‘what’s yours?’ and steve feels his heart burst, feels like sunshine and crisp leaves.

‘steve.’ he says, a little breathless.

‘steve.’ eddie whispers.

‘when do you go on break?’ steve asks, heart beating in his throat.

eddie just shrugs, eyes still wide. ‘whenever. as long as there’s no customers in.’ and steve realises he’s the only one here. it makes him blush more, for some reason.

‘make us another batch?’ he asks, deciding to be brave, leaning over the counter, just to be a little closer. ‘we can share.’ and it’s so worth it. to see the smile grow on eddie’s face, watch him nod, watch a curl slip out of his bun. watch him work his magic through that little pass window. stealing glances at steve as he goes.

-

watching steve enjoy his food is even better close up. even better than eddie could’ve imagined.

they’re sitting in steve’s usual booth, eddie’s where robin normally sits, he finally has a name for the cool girl steve hangs out with. gets to hear a little about how they met, can tell he loves her, so much. it’s sweet, his eyes shining as he talks.

so is the way steve cuts the pancakes, sweet, pushing perfectly stacked mouthfuls towards eddie to have. pancake, bacon, pancake. all covered in syrup, sticky and delicious.

eddie never really even liked pancakes much, more of a waffle guy. but sitting here, watching steve eat them, laughing and smiling at things eddie says. jaw just a little soft, upper lip smattered with hair. watching steve sigh and stretch when they’re done. that hand coming to rest on his stomach again, the way it always does, every saturday night.

eddie knows he’ll always love pancakes.

-

‘how do you get them to be so good?’ steve asks, hand circling eddie’s wrist loosely, stopping him before he goes back to his job, an orders come in, he has to go. but steve needs to ask, wants to know. wants one more moment with him.

eddie smiles, takes steve’s hand and kisses the back of it. and it’s so out of place, at denny’s, at 4 am that steve giggles, almost manic. it’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to him.

‘they’re made with love sweetheart.’ eddie says, looking up at him from his bow, kissing his hand again before walking away. the napkin with steve’s number on tucked safely in his back pocket.

steve’s forearm scrawled in the black ink of eddie’s own.

steve goes home and falls straight to sleep. so late its almost morning, like every saturday night.

he dreams of brown eyes, and syrup.

<3

fin.

ty for reading! mwah!

@xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @spectrum-spectre @stevesbipanic @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @acedorerryn @scoops-aboy86

[chronicowboy]

"I guess it's just me that makes you nervous then," Tommy teases, gentle as anything, and suddenly everything inside Buck just settles.

This is flirting. This is something he knows how to do, man or not. Because he likes Tommy. Thinks, terrifyingly, that he might like Tommy more than he's ever liked anyone he's dated before. Which is a lot, probably, to think on a first date. But Tommy's looking at him with an endless patience and warmth that Buck feels in every inch of him. It's easy not to worry then.

"I don't know if nervous is the right word," Buck murmurs, heat rising in his cheeks.

"Oh, yeah?" Tommy quirks a smile at him, whole face lighting up with it like he's seen the tension melt out of Buck all at once.

"Mm." Buck nods, takes a sip of beer without looking away from Tommy's deep eyes. "Flustered, maybe." He ducks his head when Tommy's grin only grows brighter. "Giddy." He tangles their feet together under the table, the rest of the room fading away. "A little like a schoolkid with their first crush."

"Well, that explains all the pigtail pulling," Tommy retorts, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms over his chest. Buck lets himself look at the bulge of his biceps, big, bigger than Buck's even, mouth-watering apparently, lets himself appreciate them for a moment.

"You're not gonna let me live that down, are you?"

"Oh, come on, Evan." Tommy snorts. "Think I get to lord that over you for a little while. If not for myself, then on Eddie's behalf at least."

"A little while, huh?" Buck redirects them, something seizing in his chest at the mention of Eddie's name. He falls back into a familiar move, looks up at Tommy from under his eyelashes and watches the man smile like he just can't help it. "You thinking of keeping me around then? Even with all the..." He waves his hand at himself, a gesture to the embarrassing ally word vomit that he'd dropped on him just moments ago.

"This is new to you." Tommy shrugs. "Wasn't expecting you to be a real Casanova first time around."

"Casanova," Buck repeats gleefully, beaming when Tommy rolls his eyes and blushes just ever so slightly.

"Anyway, as I was saying," he emphasises. "First date was never going to be smooth sailing. Only fair I get to take you out again. Practice makes perfect and all."

"Sounds pretty perfect," Buck says. And what he doesn't say is: I don't think this is practice, I think this is the real thing.

[steddiealltheway]

(happy happy happy happy happy birth-dae to @strawberryspence ilysm my Wendy’s frosty and chicken tenders friend. I hope you enjoy 💛🍓)

Steve was having one of those days. Then again, he seemed to have a lot of those after two run-ins with an evil alternate dimension combined with the aftermath of his "bullshit" relationship with Nancy. Luckily his parents weren't home to add to the general mood of things, but that just left him with a too big, empty house.

As soon as he got inside, he turned around and went back to his car. He knew where to go.

The drive was on the longer side, but Steve didn't mind. He felt like he could finally breathe when he saw the Leaving Hawkins sign. A few miles later, he pulled into one of the spaces beside a small diner.

He walked in and waved to Linda who smiled sweetly at him. He remembered a few years ago when he had first met her after taking his dad's keys and driving far away from his parents. Linda had given him a free meal and lingered around, letting him rant and not judging him for the things he said about his asshole parents and friends. She had simply listened and told him that he reminded her of her son when he was younger.

When Steve eventually left, Linda had told him that he could stop by anytime, and she would likely be there. She also hinted that maybe he should take a bus next time because he looked a little too young to drive. Steve had blushed and ducked his head at the comment, but Linda had just laughed and told him things would get better.

And it seemed like every time Steve came back, things would eventually get better.

But he can't help but feel a little jilted when he notices that his corner booth which is always available is suddenly not. He can't see whoever is sitting there as they face away from the door. Their shoulder-length curly hair sticks out to him, but he wonders if that has to do with Nancy.

He knows he should just find another booth or table or even sit at the bar, but Steve can't help but wonder who is sitting at his table. So, he approaches them slowly, noticing how they're bent over some book or something scribbling away only with a pink-tinted milkshake on the table.

He clears his throat when he gets closer, and the person looks up with big, brown eyes curious at first before becoming closed off.

"Munson," Steve says, not sure what emotion he's feeling because he was the last person he imagined to be here.

"Harrington," Eddie replies, sounding a bit irritated.

Steve frowns. "Why are you sitting at my table?"

Eddie looks around before saying, "Funny, I didn't see a sign."

"You know what I mean."

Eddie closes the notebook in front of him before he leans back and crosses his arms. "Do I?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair and rests his hands on his hips. "I sit here every time I come here."

The corner of Eddie's mouth quirks up into a small smirk. "Thanks for explaining, but I'm not moving for you, Your Highness." He tilts his head down in a mock bow that irks Steve.

"Thankfully, you’re not sitting in my side of the booth," Steve says as he slides into the bench on the opposite side of Eddie.

Eddie looks at him blankly for a few seconds and takes a sip of his milkshake. He swallows and says, "Just don't dump this on me, okay?"

"Why would I do that?"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Why would King Steve humiliate The Freak? What a great question."

Steve frowns. "I haven't done anything to you before."

"And nothing is stopping you now."

Steve snorts. "It sounds like you almost want me to. Which I won't by the way. If that was seriously something you were worried about."

Eddie narrows his eyes at him as if expecting something as he clutches his notebook a little tighter.

Steve gestures toward it. "What that?"

Eddie frowns and looks down at the book. "You wouldn't care."

"Try me."

Once again, Eddie stares at him. This time Linda interrupts as she slides a burger with fries in front of Steve. "Everything okay here?"

Eddie and Steve both nod, but Linda raises her eyebrows at Steve as if saying behave.

Steve takes the message and kindly pushes the plate a little toward Eddie saying, "You can take a fry if you want."

Eddie stares at the plate and considers it.

"I promise in the time Linda brought it to me and I pushed it to you, I didn't poison it." Eddie still doesn't take a fry, so Steve reaches over, grabs one, and takes a bite. "See?"

Eddie looks at him and says, "Can never be too sure." But he takes a fry and dips it in his milkshake before taking a bite.

Steve's eyebrows furrow.

Eddie does the same thing with the other half of his fry and asks, "What?"

Steve grabs another fry. "What flavor milkshake is that?"

"Strawberry."

Steve frowns again as Eddie sighs. "I get a fry in a vanilla milkshake maybe, but strawberry?"

"Don't knock it before you try it," Eddie says pushing the glass toward him.

Steve stares at it tentatively.

"Unless you're afraid of double dipping after a freak."

With that comment, Steve looks Eddie in the eye, dips a fry into the shake, and bites into it. And it's not... unpleasant. He even takes the other half and tries more. "It's not bad. But I'm still confused about the choice of a strawberry milkshake."

It seems to be the wrong thing to say as Eddie retreats back into his shell a bit.

"I'm just more of a vanilla or chocolate guy," Steve tries to clear the air.

Eddie glances up and shrugs. "I used to get one here with my mom."

"Not anymore?" Steve can't help but ask.

"Considering that she's six feet under, no"

Steve's heart jumps at the response. He doesn't really know what to do other than reach over and rest a hand over where Eddie's rests. "I'm sorry."

Eddie glances down at their hands and shrugs. "Happened a long time ago. There's no need for all that."

Steve squeezes his hand one more time before pulling back. "Still sucks," he comments before biting into his burger.

"It is what it is." Eddie looks away and shakes his head before stating, "So, you've obviously been here often. When did that start?"

Steve finishes his bite and shrugs. "A few years ago. I tried to run - or rather drive - away from home. But I ended up here. I've been back whenever I need a break and to know that things will get better."

"How are things looking right now?"

"Better," Steve says with a small smile. He pushes his plate toward Eddie again. He takes the hint and grabs another fry.

"You know, chicken tenders taste pretty good with the milkshake too."

Steve laughs. "I'll have to take your word for it."

Eddie smiles, revealing his dimples, and Steve can't drag his eyes away.

Steve finishes his burger as Eddie makes a dent in his fries - not that he minds. The silence between them is nice, comfortable even. Steve's not sure the last time he's had a moment like this with someone.

Eddie glances up at him and hesitantly asks, "Did you really want to know what the notebook's for?"

Steve nods and leans across the table to get a better look as Eddie opens it up, explaining his D&D plans and showing off his drawings. As he flips the page and reveals a drawing of the Demogorgan, Steve slips out of the booth and sits next to Eddie, getting a closer look. "That's not what I expected it to look like."

Eddie looks at him. "You know what the Demogorgan is?"

"I kind of babysit these kids who play Dungeons and Dragons, so yeah. I know of it," Steve somewhat lies.

Eddie continues to stare at him in disbelief, and Steve finally realizes how close they are. He finds that he doesn't mind the small distance between them, and he especially doesn't mind the way Eddie's cheeks get a little pink before he turns away to flip through more pages.

And as much as Steve is impressed by all the effort and obvious talent that went into his notebook, he can't help but get a little distracted by Eddie himself.

He doesn't leave his side of the booth, opting to keep the close proximity, knees knocking into each other and fingers brushing as they reach for the plate of fries.

Steve doesn't want to leave his little booth, and he doesn't think he wants to come back later if Eddie won't be there.

But as it starts to get darker outside, Eddie glances at his watch and curses, "Shit, I need to get home before my uncle leaves for work."

"You can leave now, I'll pay for your shake."

Eddie looks at him, and sighs, "Thank you." He squeezes Steve's hand before they both scoot out of the booth.

They both have a moment where they linger and stare at each other, unsure of what happens next. They both know the dumb social hierarchy at their school and even with Steve's fallen status, Eddie's friends would never accept him. So maybe this is it.

"I'll see you around," Steve says, laying a hand on Eddie's arm and squeezing, lingering a little longer than he should.

"I'll see you around," Eddie echoes, hesitating for a moment before leaving.

Steve lets out a deep breath as he sees him walk out the door. Things will be better. They have to be.

-:-:-:-:-:-

This is definitely not the way Steve thought Eddie would be reintroduced into his life, and more than anything, he wishes Eddie wasn't involved in this. He just wants to go back to the sanctuary that is Linda's Diner. And he wants her to tell him that everything will be better.

Instead, he instructs Dustin to grab Eddie a strawberry milk from the store, and later grumbles without being able to explain why when Dustin comes back with a Yoohoo.

"Who the hell drinks strawberry milk? Chocolate milk is the obvious choice," Dustin defends.

Steve's heart tugs a little when he remembers having nearly an identical conversation.

-:-:-:-:-:-

(Ending 1)

Steve wipes at his tears as he drives away from Hawkins, getting stuck in the traffic almost immediately as everyone tries to get away from the cursed town.

He can’t do this right now. He doesn’t want to be given time to think about Eddie.

He pulls over to the shoulder and speeds along, ignoring all the car horns going off as he passes. He just needs to get to the diner.

A few miles later, he quickly turns into a space next to the small building and gets out quickly, rushing inside to his little sanctuary.

But as he stares at his table, he only gets memories of Eddie sitting across from him and next to him. And he feels like he can’t breathe here anymore.

But he still sits down in the booth, taking Eddie’s side instead, facing away from anyone who might enter.

He can’t be gone.

He sits in silence, staring at the place where Eddie’s notebook used to lay, where they shared a plate of fries, where Eddie’s strawberry milkshake used to sit.

A plate is slid in front of him, and Linda appears quietly at his side, knowing that he doesn’t want to talk about it. But when she slides a singular strawberry milkshake in front of him, he finally breaks down.

Maybe the town of Hawkins wasn’t just cursed. Maybe strawberry milkshakes were too.

-:-:-:-:-:-

(Ending 2. Aka an apology for ending 1)

Steve can’t sit still in the waiting room of the hospital. He has too much that was left unsaid. Too much at stake. But the doctors say it’s touch and go. And he has to wait.

Steve finally sees Eddie’s uncle, someone who was mentioned to him forever ago but has appeared sporadically in Steve’s thoughts. He wondered where Eddie’s dad was. Why he lived with his uncle. If his uncle was kind to him. If his uncle was on his dad’s or mom’s side. How he took the news when Eddie’s mom died. When he took Eddie in.

There were so many questions that were left unanswered because Steve was a coward. God, he wishes he would’ve seen that there were bigger, more important things than the school hierarchy. But even when he was fallen, there was a reputation he needed to somewhat uphold.

Steve doesn’t know how much longer he can take the waiting and thinking. He just needs a break from it all. He needs… Linda’s Diner.

He jostles Dustin awake and lets him know that he’ll be back in a while. Dustin just kind of gives him a look before shrugging and mumbling, “Okay.”

Robin grabs his hand, asking if he needs her to go with him. But he shakes his head and lets her know he’d rather her stay here and update him when he comes back.

He leaves the hospital quickly, racing to his car and speeding down the roads to the small dinner. He can’t help it. He needs to know that everything with get better as soon as he can.

When he gets there he takes a moment before going inside, looking away from his booth when all he can recall are the memories of Eddie. Instead, he heads to the bar and asks Linda for a strawberry milkshake to go.

After she puts in the order, she walks up to Steve and lays a hand over his. “Is he okay?” She asks gently.

Steve should’ve known that she’s seen the news, but he’s relieved to find that she knows Eddie isn’t guilty. That he would never be capable of the horrible things he’s been accused of.

“He’s touch and go right now,” Steve admits, trying not to let his bottom lip quiver too much.

Linda squeezes his hand and says, “It’ll all be better soon. I just know it.”

Steve smiles at her and whispers, “Thank you.”

Moments later, she hands him the milkshake, and Steve leaves soon after. He needs to get back as quickly as he can.

He drives faster than when he left, almost regretting his little pit stop when he feels like he needs to be there. He races up to the waiting room and finds that Dustin and Eddie’s uncle are gone. Steve’s stomach drops as he looks at Robin. “Is he?”

Robin hugs him with tears in her eyes and whispers, “He’s awake. And he’s okay. He’s going to be okay.”

Steve sighs in relief and feels a few tears spill out of his eyes. He ducks his head into Robin’s neck and tries to hide his reaction from anyone else.

“Steve.”

Steve takes a deep breath and looks toward the doorway where Dustin is standing. “He wants to see you.”

Steve smiles and squeezes Robin’s arm before practically dragging a confused Dustin down the hall while asking where his room is.

Dustin leads him to it and says, “I don’t understand why-”

“Later, okay?” Steve asks, cutting him off. “I promise. I’ll tell you later.”

Dustin nods and for once he lets Steve go easily. “Okay.”

Steve jostles his hair around before slowly going into the room. He nearly gasps at the sight of Eddie so pale and almost lifeless, but when he sees his chest move slowly up and down, he’s flooded with relief.

“Eddie…” Steve says, practically running up to the bed and placing a gentle hand over his.

Eddie weakly smiles at him before glancing down at his hand. “What’s that?” He asks quietly.

“A strawberry milkshake from Linda.”

Eddie smiles a little wider. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did. How could I forget?” Steve sets it down on a little table next to his bed and finally confesses, “Eddie, I wish things would’ve been different between us because out of all the things I got from Linda’s diner, you were the best. And I’m so glad you stole my booth because I needed you that day. And I need you now and-”

“Steve?” Eddie says softly.

“Yeah?”

Eddie’s eyes move toward the foot of his bed.

Steve glances over and jumps when he sees Eddie’s uncle watching him with a small smile. “Go ahead, I’m enjoying this.”

“Wayne,” Eddie tries to groan but it ends up coming out way too soft.

Steve just laughs and grabs Eddie’s hand. “What I’m trying to say is that after your name is cleared and you’ve healed and they determine that neither of us have demobat rabies, would you want to go on a date with me at Linda’s diner?”

Eddie smiles and squeezes his hand. “Absolutely.”

“Thank god,” Wayne mutters from his seat.

As Steve laughs and Eddie tries to glare at his uncle, he can’t help but believe that everything will truly get better.

[comfortingevanbuckley]

I'm Taken

8x03 Missing Scene | PG | 1k

ao3 link

What if Buck was flirted with when he returned the motorbike to the guy at the call?

Note: No infidelity here, just Buck being flirted with and turning into a cute, blushing mess.

As much as Buck loved the parts of his job that involved saving lives, there was only one part of it that he despised the most. That was the cleanup portion of it all. Yes, of course, there were other moving parts involved which meant he didn’t have to worry about it since that was the job of other transportation companies.

However, there was one job he had to do and Buck really wondered what he did to deserve this. He knew it couldn’t be punishment over the Gerrard situation. Chimney practically threw him a party! He had to hunt down the guy whose motorbike he borrowed. Yes, he borrowed it, even if he didn’t exactly request it so he could clear the highway for a freaking airplane.

“We won’t leave without you, Buck, and Brad did tell us that the crowd of people should still be back there.” Hen said as she finished loading another passenger into the ambulance.

Buck grabbed the helmet from the bike and set off to find the guy. Luckily it was pretty easy since he at least remembered the guy had a thick set of hair and was wearing a bike jacket. Now that Buck wasn’t running on adrenaline, he thought to himself, “Huh, he was kind of cute actually.”

It wasn’t brand new, anymore at least, for Buck to finally realize what it meant to think a guy was hot. His boyfriend still teased him about it, but all Buck could see was the sexy guy he got to come home to. Technically, he was only going over to Tommy’s to see him, but he barely spent any time at the loft anymore. It was a little embarrassing when Eddie came over for beers and Buck’s refrigerator was empty for the first time in what felt like years.

It didn’t take long for Buck to find the crowd of drivers, many who looked perturbed, but most of them in awe of the plane they could barely make out in the distance. The guy who owned the bike was right there and he hopped off, taking the helmet off in the process.

“Hey, man. Thanks again for letting me borrow this. It was a huge help.”

The guy took the helmet back and Buck noticed his eyes moving up and down his body. It made him blush as he realized what was going on. Oh.

“No problem, glad I could help LA’s finest. So is everyone on the plane okay?” He had a smirk on his face as he looked at Buck.

Buck glanced behind him, “Yeah, just some injuries, but overall, it’s better than the alternative.” He knew he shouldn’t say more, especially since the pilot of the plane was gone and he didn’t need to have her loved ones find out from a random person filming him. 

“That was pretty badass of you, even if you did take my bike.”

Buck laughed, scratching his chin with an embarrassed smile. “Hey, it was just to make sure no one was in the plane’s path.”

“Our hero.” The guy was still staring at Buck in a way that made his stomach flip and he had no idea what to think about.

Instead, he ducked his head and blushed, glancing up. “Uh, well, anyway, thanks again. Here’s your keys and hopefully they will have the road cleared up soon so you all can head home.”

“Hey, I didn’t catch your name. I should at least know the name of the guy who commandeered my bike.”

“Uh, Buck, the name’s Buck.” He held his hand out to shake the guy’s hand.

“Hey, Buck. I’m Sean.” It took a second for Buck to get his hand back since Sean seemed to determined to keep shaking it.

“Nice to meet you,” Buck nodded and turned to leave when Sean spoke up.

“Maybe we could meet up for coffee?”

At any other time, Buck would have taken up the guy on the offer. He was cute, he had to admit. But his heart was back in a little yellow house, waiting for him to come home. “I’m so sorry, I’m flattered, but I’m spoken for. I have a boyfriend.” The flutter in his stomach made him feel warm inside saying the word out loud.

Sean groaned, “All the gorgeous ones are taken.”

Buck let out a nervous laugh, “Thank you. Be safe tonight, okay?” He said this to the group, who were now smirking at him. 

He turned to head back to his team, just feeling his phone ring in his pocket. Looking down, he smiled to see Tommy’s name. “Hey baby,” he said as he answered the phone.

“Hey. I just turned on the news. Are you at that emergency right now?”

“Indeed I am. It was Athena’s flight actually.”

Tommy was quiet for a moment. “I turn off my phone for one day!”

Buck laughed, “You missed a lot.” He said as he began the long mile walk back towards the team. Maybe Eddie would take pity on him and grab an ambulance for him.

“I see first responders, but not you. Where are you?”

“Trekking back, actually. Had to go a mile down the freeway to track down the guy whose motorbike I borrowed to clear the highway.”

“You-I have got to hear this!”

“Are you sure? Cause as it turns out I am exactly his type and he flirted with me.” Buck didn’t want to hide that from Tommy. This relationship was important to him and while he knew he didn’t flirt back, he did not want Tommy to ever worry.

Tommy chuckled, “Baby, I have eyes, I understand why he would. But you know what the important thing is?”

“What’s that?” It melted Buck’s heart that he could easily tell Tommy someone flirted with him and he just brushed past it. 

“That you’re coming back to me.”

Buck smiled goofily, “I am all yours.” It was all he wanted actually. “Being with you is all I ever need.”

“And I hope you know I trust you, Evan.”

“I do,” Buck looked down at his feet, trying to stop blushing so that the team didn’t notice once he got back to them. “I can’t wait to see you. This has been a long shift.”

“I’ll be right here waiting.”

“Good.” They hadn’t reached the big I love you stage, but Buck was pretty sure that he felt it.

[runninriot]

another one for the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Day 12

prompt: only one bed | rated: t | word count: 998 | tags: sleepover, finding comfort, coming to conclusions, soft boys cuddling, open ending

🌙

Steve can’t sleep.

He’s been tossing and turning for god knows how long but nothing seems to work. The air in the room is stuffy, the light from the street lamp outside shines too bright through the open blinds, and the fucking noise...

    Ugh!

He hates himself for ending up here in the first place. Squished between the wall and Eddie fucking Munson who’s dead asleep on his back, happily snoring, legs and arms splayed out like he owns the fucking place.

Okay, maybe because he does. It's his bed after all.

They’ve been hanging out at the trailer – Eddie, Steve, Robin, and Vickie. And they really had a great time, that’s not the problem. The problem is, that Steve let himself be talked into having ‘just one beer’ and one turned into three which would’ve been fine, really. He could’ve sobered up enough to drive them home by the end of the night. But then Eddie had to bring out the good stuff and- Well.

Him and the girls decided to stay overnight. But unfortunately, Rob and Vic called dibs on the folding couch and while Steve would’ve been fine to sleep on the floor (‘Just hand me a blanket, I really don’t mind.’) Eddie insisted that his bed was big enough for two.

So, here he is now. Lying awake next to the loudest snorer in history, unable to get some much-needed sleep.

Steve turns again, facing Eddie now. He looks at the mess of tangled hair, the starfish-like display of limbs, the half-parted lips, and despite his annoyance he can’t bite back a quiet chuckle.

Eddie looks adorable.

I mean... like a dork!

The sound of his snoring has turned into a muffled sound, almost like he’s talking in his sleep but Steve can’t really make out the words. And then Eddie moves, turns to his side and-

    You have got to be kidding me!

One of Eddie's hands sneaks around his middle the same time he hooks one leg over Steve’s. Eddie shuffles closer, pressing his nose into coarse hair - inhaling deeply, sighing contently in his sleep.

Steve feels trapped, doesn’t know what to do. He can't just push Eddie away, doesn’t want to startle him awake by wiggling out of his grasp because Eddie looks so... comfortable. So cosy, all curled up against Steve’s body.

And it kinda feels nice because Eddie is warm and his skin is soft and the snoring has stopped, which is a big plus.

Surely, he’ll let go and turn back around if Steve just waits a little while. There’s no need to make a big deal out of it.

“Hmm, 's nice," Eddie mumbles.

Steve can feel his lips moving against his chest and it sends a hot blush to his face.

   “Eddie? You awake?” Steve tries but gets no verbal response from the other man. Eddie just tightens his grip, moves even closer to Steve.

The digits on the alarm clock tell him it’s 02:23. He should be asleep by now. He’s so tired, can barely keep his eyes open. Eddie’s skin is so soft and warm and Steve tries to keep his own body from sinking further into the embrace but it feels nice to be held like that. To feel someone else's skin on his own. It should be weird - because that someone is Eddie - but somehow, it's not.

The monotonous sound of Eddie’s now calm breathing works like magic, makes him drift deeper and deeper into a peaceful sleep.

☀️

   “Good morning, sunshine.”

Steve blinks and forces one eye open. He's greeted by a blinding smile that competes with the light of the sun shining through the window.

   “M’rning,” Steve mumbles sleepily in return.

He doesn’t want to get up, wants to sleep a little longer. He wants to stay hidden from the world just a couple more minutes.

Steve ducks his head back down, scoots closer, crawls back into the comfort of Eddie’s arms where it’s warm and safe and-

    Oh.

He freezes when he realises the position they're in – an arm wrapped around his shoulder, his own draped over Eddie's waist. Tangled legs. Steve’s face tucked into the space between Eddie’s shoulder and neck.

    Oh fuck.

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind though. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t push him away. Just lets Steve hold him and even starts drawing circles to the skin on his back.

It feels so fucking nice.

   “Hmmm.” Steve hums, nearly moans when he feels Eddie's nails scraping along his neck and into his hair line, sending a tingling sensation through his body.

   “You like that?” Steve feels Eddie’s hoarse, sleepy voice vibrating on his lips where they’re connected to his throat - feather light, barely touching.

  “Feels good,” Steve answers, lips grazing Eddie's skin almost like a tender kiss. Almost.

Beside him Eddie shivers, inhales shakily as he pulls Steve closer into his arms.

They stay like that for a while in comfortable silence, gentle hands stroking long lines up and down Steve's back in steady motion. They're holding each other closer than they should be allowed to. Because they’re friends and that’s not usually what friends do.

   “I could stay like this forever,” Eddie whispers and Steve secretly agrees. Thinks he could live in Eddie’s arms, wouldn’t mind if he held him like this, always.

But forever is a dream and always an illusion.

They both know the moment is over when they can hear the girls talking in the living room. They’ll have to let each other go and get up. Forget about this and pretend it never happened.

Steve peels himself off reluctantly, keeps one hand placed on Eddie’s side. He's not quite ready to leave.

Their eyes meet and there’s a sad smile on Eddie’s face. Steve wants to kiss it better, knows he can't.

He shouldn’t want this but Eddie is right there; hesitating, like he doesn't want to let go either and maybe...

"Stevie?"

Yeah, maybe.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞

36 for 🦮:

---

“I-I didn’t know you made these for us,” Buck says. “When do I get mine?”

Margaret and Phillip exchange an uncomfortable look. Neither of them says anything. The silence stretches a bit too long before Buck gets it.

There isn’t one for him. 

Why would they do this in front of him if there isn’t one for him?

“Hey, you're not even a grown up yet,” Chim tries to joke weakly. It’s the kind of joke he doesn’t make a lot anymore, since the accident. Turns out, there’s some residual guilt there for Chim, who was technically captain while Buck lost his leg. “They're probably still adding stuff to it.”

Buck starts to feel tight all over his body. His chest. His throat. The clenching grip of his hands. 

He feels Cranberry shift under the table. Before he can tell her it’s okay, he’s fine, she’s reacting. Her nose boops firmly into Buck’s outer thigh once, twice, and then after Buck doesn’t relax, and a third and fourth time. 

“Evan,” his mother says, irritated. “The dog is moving around down there. I thought you said it was trained?”

“Sh-she is,” Buck manages. 

Chim clues in to what’s going on. He flashes Buck a look of sympathy. 

“You can go into the bedroom,” he says quietly. “If you need a moment with her.”

Buck nods. He might just do that. 

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks, walking back into the room and setting the dessert and serving plates on the table. He rests a hand on Buck’s shoulder, clearly looking down at Cranberry, who has started to wiggle her whole head onto his lap. 

“Evan?” Margaret asks again. “What is the dog doing?”

“Mom, leave it be,” Maddie says. “Please.”

---

36 for 🪞:

---

Buck’s not sure if that’s true, but he’s kind of bummed he had to work instead of offering to be a classroom volunteer. 

“Have fun today, kiddo,” Buck says. 

“Thanks!” She says. 

“Wash your hands after touching any animals, okay?” He adds. “Some of them are sort of dirty.”

Eddie snorts. 

“What?” Buck asks him. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Eddie raises his hands in surrender. 

“I will,” Dove promises. “Can I go?”

“Yes,” Buck chuckles. “You can go. Bye, Dove.”

“Bye, Buck! Bye, Eddie!” 

Eddie twists around in the seat and smiles at her. “Bye, Duckling.”

Buck freezes. What now? Dove grins at him like this was a completely normal thing to say, then hops out of the car, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she goes. Buck waits before the door is shut before turning to Eddie.

“Duckling?” He asks. 

“Oh,” Eddie blushes. “Yeah, that sort of happened.”

“What sort of happened?” 

“Well,” Eddie shrugs sheepishly. “She’s just so cute and little, you know? She needed a term of endearment.”

She is so cute and little. She’s an objectively tiny child. Larger than a baby duck, though. 

[diazsdimples]

🧗‍♂️🧗‍♂️🧗‍♂️🧗‍♂️🧗‍♂️🧗‍♂️🧗‍♂️🧗‍♂️🧗‍♂️🧗‍♂️

(You can do it!!!! I believe in you so much more than Eddie believes in his climbing gear!)

I did it! 30 Eddietommy sentences for you, some of which you have definitely not read before for FIF or whatever it was sfdkjh

When Eddie stands up, Tommy extends his hand, his fingers splayed and waiting for Eddie’s to nestle between them. With an almost shy smile, Eddie takes Tommy’s hands, their fingers lacing together. Tommy gives him a brief squeeze and they set off across the beach. The sand is warm beneath Eddie’s feet, and with the combination of that and the salty tang on the ocean air, Eddie begins to feel himself relax. With each step towards the cliff, he feels his muscles relax, his shoulders come down from where they’ve been bunched up against his ears for weeks, his breathing coming easier. Every so often Tommy looks over at him with a soft smile on his face, and Eddie’s heart rate picks up, fluttering in his chest like he’s a teenager again. He is so fucking in love, it’s embarrassing really. They get to the point where they have to round an outcrop of craggy rocks in order to reach the climbing spot – a secluded beach named Pirate’s Cove. Tommy drops Eddie’s hand and the two begin to carefully pick their way across the rocks. They’re a little slimy, the drop in tide still recent enough that the rocks haven’t quite dried off, so Eddie takes great care in where he places his feet. Falling and injuring himself before he’s even reached the climbing spot would be embarrassing beyond words, and he has no doubt Tommy would razz him about it ‘till the end of his days. The large boulders give way to a selection of smaller rock pools, and Eddie crouches by one, pulling out his phone to take photos for Buck and Christopher. There’s a group of sea snails lazily trailing over the rocks, and a sea anemone sways lightly as the water swirls through the pool. Buck could sit at the edge of this pool for hours and watch as the sea life goes about their carefree business. His curiosity for the small and seemingly mundane has always been one of his most endearing traits, in Eddie’s opinion. “Got enough photos for our Marine Biologists?” Tommy asks as he stands up, tucking his phone back into his shorts. He takes Tommy’s outstretched hand and allows his boyfriend to tug him against his chest. “Yep,” he replies, popping the ‘p’. “Buck would hate to miss out.” Tommy chuckles and runs a hand through Eddie’s hair, tipping his head back a little. His other arm stays firmly secured around Eddie’s waist, large hands splaying against the small of his back. Tommy’s eyes flutter as he leans down and kisses Eddie, their lips moving together in tandem, deep and slick. “What was that for?” Eddie asks as Tommy pulls away. Tommy blushes, looking almost bashful, if that were possible for a man that was 6 foot many and pure confidence. “Nothing, I just –” he begins, before pausing, his throat working as he swallows. “You’re one of the most selfless and considerate people I know, is all.” The praise warms Eddie and he blushes, ducking his head. He doesn’t know why, but there’s almost a sense of disappointment at Tommy’s words. For a moment, it had seemed that Tommy might have been about to say that he loves – no, Eddie won’t let himself think about that. He shoves aside the bitter feeling and looks back up at Tommy, his hand coming up to cup his boyfriend’s face.

Also tagging @theotherbuckley @monsterrae1 and @bucksbignaturals who are also interested in this wip

[mugloversonly]

The Revenant of You

Summary: At Dustin and Eleven's wedding, Eddie and Steve reunite after 10 years.

This fully finished and will be released weekly. There are 5 total chapters. AO3 link at the bottom.

Chapter 1: Steve

Steve and Abby stood hand in hand outside the church. His little girl was so excited to see her uncle Dusty again and watch him marry Auntie El, but Steve wasn’t ready to see Eddie again. He couldn’t do this.

He scoffed at himself. It had been nearly ten years since they last saw each other on the night of their break up. At the time, Corroded Coffin was on their first album tour, Steve was with them, and he watched as Eddie’s dreams of being a Rock Star became a reality. He was so proud of him, but he was resentful too. Why should Eddie get everything he ever wanted when Steve didn’t? Never mind that Steve wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted; it was about the principle.

But more than that, Steve was scared. Terrified Eddie would realize he could do much better than Steve and he’d break his heart. So, he resolved to break Eddie’s first. He picked a fight out of nowhere, screamed about how he hated being on the road, he wanted kids, and Eddie would never be able to give him that.

What Steve hadn’t anticipated was the Munson resolve. Eddie offered to quit. He’d quit the band, settle down where ever Steve wanted, and they’d have some little nuggets: adopted or surrogate, it didn’t matter as long as they stayed together, stayed married. Said he loved Steve and his life with him was more important than his dreams.

Eddie was so genuine, Steve knew he would have quit then and there, but he couldn’t live with the guilt. So he told the biggest lie of his life, your love isn’t enough, you’ll always be too much.

Eddie’s biggest insecurity, Steve’s ticket out. Or so he thought; but, here he was ten years later, nursing the bruised ego from his second divorce, and the broken heart from his first husband.

He shook his head, ducked into the last row, and did his best to hide. Normally, he’d be in the front row but Eddie was the best man. Steve tried not to be bitter about it. He’d known Dustin the longest...but thanks to Abby’s mom, his relationships with his friends weren’t as strong as they used to be; he didn’t even remember the last time he spoke to Robin.

As the ceremony started, he forgot about his worries as he watched Dustin take his place at the front of the church. He looked so handsome in his all black suit, even if he had a goofy pink bow tie on. But as the procession made their way down the aisle, the pink made sense. All the bridesmaids were in soft pink dresses with black accents, all the groomsmen in black suits, with pink accents. Different than Dustin’s like they all were allowed to choose what the accent was.

The maid of honor was of course Max, she was arm in arm with Eddie. Steve tried to keep his eyes on Max, but they drifted. Just to see what his accent was he whispered to himself. Pink ribbons were braided into his long hair, little bows at the end. It kind of pissed Steve off that he didn’t look stupid with his hair like that; he looked really cute.

Even though Steve was the reason they weren’t together anymore, he still hated Eddie a little, he wanted him to be miserable like him. Which was so shitty of him but if there was one thing Steve was still trying to unlearn, it was his level of pettiness.

Even as everyone stood to see the bride, his gaze never left Eddie’s form. Abby yanked on his arm finally pulling him away and toward Eleven. Her dress was a blush princess gown, she carried black daisies, her only jewelry was her smile. Her arm was wrapped in Hopper’s as they moved, her eyes never looked away from Dustin and his never moved from her.

He teared up as Dustin wiped his face. He remembered that feeling. Seeing the love of your life walk to you, looking as beautiful as ever. His first wedding was full of that heart stopping, lung filling, joy. He couldn’t help but look at Eddie again, hoping their eyes would meet. But no, he watched El with a sad smile, a few stray tears sliding down his face. Steve selfishly hoped he was thinking the same thing.

The reception was...exactly what he would expect from Eleven. So many candles and colors. Flowers everywhere, but there were touches of Dustin too. D20 candle holders were the centerpieces and the food was Dustin’s favorite: grilled salmon with a honey glaze.

Steve tried to engage with the people at his assigned table, but he wasn’t very enthused. The only people from Hawkins who weren’t in the bridal party were the parents and siblings of the kids-now adults- of the party. Somehow, exchanging parenting tips with Karen Wheeler was not on his wedding agenda. By the time dinner ended, Steve was ready to drown himself in champagne.

Then the speeches started...and he willed lighting to strike him. Max’s speech was beautiful. Anecdotes about their childhood spent together, omitting the monster stuff but Steve knew the truth. “I hope you and Dustin live a long and happy life together Ellie. And remember, if he breaks your heart, I’ll break his bones.” The room laughed but those who knew her, knew Max would do it.

Eddie was up next, Steve slumped down more in his chair. “Dustin I hope you know how lucky you are” he began with a chuckle. “El is a great woman and don’t forget she has super powers.” Those in the know laughed as Eddie continued his speech. A few stories of how they met and Dustin’s more...creative experiments. He looked at the crowd and Steve knew the moment he saw him, his eyes widened before he schooled his expression.

“Seeing you at the alter tonight, promising to love each other until the end, I knew you meant it. Dustin, El, you two made me believe in love again. Seeing your relationship change from friendship to full blown love has been...amazing. The two of you have that old soul type of love.” He glanced at Steve again.

“Not to get too into it but I went through a divorce some years ago that made me bitter.” Eddie said, his eyes never leaving Steve. “I hated my ex, I hated love, I hated...myself.” Steve gasped. “But Dustin,” he turned to the groom. “You wouldn’t let me wallow. You practically dragged me by the ear out of my misery. You said ‘don’t let the heartbreak drag you down. Channel that shit!’” Dustin chuckled and smiled big.

“You played the most metal concert once, you can write the most metal album now” Dustin yelled, likely repeating what he’d said those years ago, causing the party to groan good-naturedly.

“You’re the reason for our third album, man.” Eddie’s band cheered from a table over, startling Steve. He hadn’t realized they were here. He saw Wayne sitting at their table and felt his heart twinge. He was older now, but he still looked good. Like he could kick Steve’s ass.

Eddie turned to El next. “El, you said to me, ‘boys lie. Men love their partners.’ Words of wisdom given to you by Max and Joyce, that you gave to me.” He grabbed his champagne flute and held it in toast. “Thanks to you two, I could forgive my ex, I could forgive myself, and I was able to get back out there and find love again.”

Steve heart dropped, though as he glanced at Abby, he supposed he shouldn’t be upset that Eddie moved on. Even if he felt the green monster peak out.

“Dustin, you’re one hell of a man! Thank you for letting me be a part of your wedding, and sharing in your joy. And though, she can’t be with us here today, I know that Lyla would stand with me and say Congrats you two! Long live the Hoppersons!” Eddie declared before he took a sip of his champagne. “Now, DJ? The first dance please.” He stepped off the dance floor to let the couple take their place before he reached for the flower girl being held in Nancy’s arms.

The little girl looked adorable in her pink dress. She had on a black ribbon like a belt and pink ribbon braided through her hair just like Eddie’s, when he spun her around Steve’s jaw dropped. She had Eddie’s big brown doe eyes. Steve stood shocked to his core as the two giggled together.

Eddie Munson, had a daughter.

Steve couldn’t believe it. He didn’t think Eddie actually wanted kids and the petty part of him wondered if he knocked a girl up on accident or had one to spite Steve. But just as quickly, he hated himself for thinking something so awful. Especially when Abby grasped his hand; sh e’d been an unplanned pregnancy. W hat was that phrase Robin used to use you shouldn’t throw stones if you live in a glass house.

He watched Hopper and Eleven take the floor, then Claudia and Dustin. The two parent dances brought tears to his eyes and a sadness to his heart, he and Eddie skipped them since Steve’s parents didn’t approve and with Wendy...they barely had a wedding, let alone a reception.

The DJ invited everyone to the dance floor and he took Abby to join in at her insistence. She pulled him into the crowd and wrapped herself around Dustin’s leg.

“Yay Uncle Dustin!” She shouted at him. Dustin lit up and lifted his niece into his arms, swung her around, before turning to pull Steve into a hug.

“Hey man! You made it!” He shouted over the music, Eleven pulling him into a hug next.

“Thank you for coming Steve and Abby.” El said in that quiet way of hers.

“Thanks for the invite! How have you been?” He asked. As the three danced, they caught up. Steve telling them about his divorce, Dustin telling him how he proposed.

A few songs in, the flower girl came up to Eleven and pulled on her sleeve. She turned to the girl and bent to her level. “Yes, Lily?” She asked. The little girl, Lily apparently, waved her hand down so she could whisper in Eleven’s ear. El stood and nodded, Steve watched as Lily hugged Dustin’s leg, before she scurried off back to Eddie. He lifted an eyebrow and Dustin chuckled.

“Dustin, it is time for cake.” She said to her new husband.

“Already?” Steve asked. They just ate dinner.

“Lily asked very nicely.” El said. Based on the way Dustin responded, it was obvious the two adored the little girl.

“Lilith, is our goddaughter.” Dustin said as way of explanation.

Steve was envious of the display. He wished Abby got that kind of reaction out of his friends, but since Wendy hated them all, it was hard to get together. He was envious of Dustin too, he knew Eddie’s daughter in a way Steve didn’t, and likely never would.

As the couple went to cut the cake, Steve took Abby to the little girl’s room. After she took care of her business, they exited the bathroom and bumped into Eddie and his daughter.

The two men stared at each other in silence for a minute, before the girls caught sight of each other. Lily hid behind her dad’s leg but peaked shyly at the other girl. Abby ran over and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Abigail, but you can call me Abby. I like your hair!” She said sweetly. Lily looked at Eddie uncertainly. He nodded encouragingly at her and she stepped out from behind him a tiny bit.

She tugged on her braid. “Tank you, my aunt Nancy did it. To match my dad’s”.

“That’s nice! My dad’s hair is too short to do much with it.” She said, in that kid like way that was obvious she was repeating something an adult said. Eddie huffed a laugh. “What’s your name?”

“Wily. Short for Wiwif.” She whispered. The gap from her missing two front teeth made her have a lisp. She looked at her dad again but stepped forward and stuck her little hand out for a shake. “My gwanpa Wayne says when you meet new people you shake deir hands.” Abby grabbed her hand and Lily moved their hands up and down.

“My grandpa’s dead.” Abby said proudly. “I’m eight by the way, how old are you?” Lily holds up four fingers but when Eddie cleared his throat she lifted her thumb. “Five? I remember being five. Wanna play?” She asked confidently with a questioning look at Steve.

“If, Eddie says it’s fine.” Steve said, saying Eddie’s name for the first time all night.

“Can I daddy?” Lily asked excitedly. Eddie looked at Steve, and dropped to a knee in front of Lily.

“All right my little demon. If you want you can. But!” he said to grab her attention again. “What are the rules?” Steve froze for a moment. He never thought Eddie would have rules for his kids.

“Make sure I can see you. If I can’t see you, yell weally loud or find an adult I know. If a stwanger asks me to go somewhewe, ask for the magic woud. If it’s wong, say no. If dey twy to gwab me, bite dem.” Lily replied dutifully.

“Two more” Eddie said encouragingly.

“No means no. Respec bounwies” She said resolutely.

“Alright, go you little gremlin.” Eddie said and laughed as the two girls skipped hand in hand to the dance floor.

The two men stood awkwardly for a moment, but Steve couldn’t let Eddie leave. He wanted to catch up even if it was only for a bit. “You named your daughter Lilith?” Steve asked with a teasing smile. Eddie smiled sheepishly.

“Her mom picked it actually.” He said quietly with a soft smile but a sadness in his eyes. “Lyla’s parents demanded a biblical name. I wanted to name her Jezebel but Lyla said she didn’t want to name her after a traitor.” He chuckled at the irony. “What about you? Why Abigail?” He asked.

“Her mom, Wendy, didn’t want to choose. I opened a book of baby girl names and picked one.” Steve answered with a shrug.

“Is Wendy here?” Eddie asked innocently; but, it made Steve get defensive.

“Nah, we got divorced.” He admitted.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He said. Steve wanted to ask if he meant it, but chose the safer option.

“I wouldn’t think Eddie ‘fuck the establishment’ Munson would have rules for his kid.” Steve chuckled, it was supposed to be a joke, but it came out accusatory. The tensing of Eddie’s shoulders. wilted Steve a bit.

“Yeah well, my dad wasn’t famous.” He said tightly as if that explained everything. And it did, Steve supposed.

“He kind of was though, wasn’t he?” Steve snorted meanly. Eddie scoffed and moved away.

“Her rules keep her safe. Unlike my father, and yours,” Eddie growled. “I actually care about my daughter, not that you’d know that.” He turned on his heel to go back to the ballroom, but Steve’s hand caught around his wrist.

“Sorry, that was shitty. I shouldn’t criticize how you parent.” Steve admitted.

“Why not? It’s not like you had faith in the type of parent I would be anyway, right?” Eddie asked bitterly.

“That’s not true! I knew you’d be a great parent!” Steve exclaimed. Eddie didn’t react beyond nodding in acknowledgment.

“Abby’s eight?” Eddie asked tilting his head toward the dance floor, clearly wanting to move away from this conversation.

“Yeah? So, what?” Steve asked brazenly. Eddie sighed, defeated.

“Nothing, Steve. Just trying to make conversation, excuse me.” He turned to walk back to the ballroom again.

“I didn’t cheat on you, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Steve called after him aggressively. Eddie stopped but kept his back to him.

“I wasn’t wondering anything, Harrington. I was just asking.” The use of his last name prickled his skin. He’d been Steve Munson until he married Wendy, reverting back to his original name. But he doubted Eddie knew that, so it felt like a low blow.

“You know what Munson?” Steve said angrily. He didn’t know why, but all his resentment toward Wendy, his regret for ending things with Eddie, and now his hurt feelings at being so easily dismissed, were culminating in a bad way. Eddie turned to face Steve. “You can act high and mighty all you want, but you’re here alone too aren’t you?”

“Yeah” Eddie said quietly, his jaw clenched, his eyes wet, and even after all these years Steve knew what he looked like before he cried. After all, it was the last face he ever saw Eddie make before today.

“So, who are you to judge me?” Steve asked but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Abby’s eight because the girl I went out with a few times after our divorce got pregnant. We got married before she started to show so no one would suspect a thing. She was unhappy, I was unhappy. We got divorced so we could be better parents. It is what it is.”

With a glance at Eddie’s left hand, he scoffed: a gold band sat there, nothing like the silver of his old one. It pissed Steve off, reminded him that he picked out the silver so the rings would blend in with his normal ones, even as Eddie insisted he wanted it to stand out. Undeniable proof that Lyla was better than him. “At least I don’t still wear my wedding ring!” He ranted hypocritically ignoring his old silver band from his marriage with Eddie that hung around his neck for the past ten years.

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just looked at Steve in that way that he used to, like he could see right through him. He knew why it hurt so much to see Eddie happy and with a kid. It was a future he could have had if he wasn’t so scared. He knew it was selfish but he wanted to make Eddie feel a fraction of the pain he did seeing his ex so happy.

“Why’s Lyla not here huh? Lyla get tired of you, too? Life of a musician’s wife too much for her?” Steve snarled. A single tear slid down Eddie’s face but he didn’t bother to wipe it away. Still, he said nothing. It pissed Steve off more. “Answer me! Why’d she leave you? Where is she?” He stepped into Eddie’s face, nose to nose, digging the knife in deep.

“She died.” Eddie said, never breaking eye contact with Steve as he cried silently. His eyes were far away, lost in memories and pain. Those two words took the wind out of Steve’s sails so fast he almost got whiplash. It was only then that he noticed a different wedding band hanging on the necklace with his pick. It was smaller, dainty; Lyla’s ring.

“Eddie…” he began shutting his eyes in regret but was interrupted.

“No, now it’s my turn.” He took a breath. “I honestly asked how old Abby was because I wanted to know. I wasn’t wondering if you cheated because frankly, it doesn’t matter if you did. I stopped worrying about why you threw me away a long time ago.” Steve flinched at the phrasing. “You broke up with me Steve, not the other way around. You filed for divorce. You ended it. You don’t get to be in my face screaming and accusing me of shit just because you’re pissed that I ended up in a happy marriage and you didn’t.” Eddie huffed, his eyes hardened into that look that convinced a whole town he was a murderer.

“And you definitely don’t get to come here and talk about shit you know nothing about. You never met Lyla but if you had, you wouldn’t have said a single thing you just did. We loved each other more than anything. We started trying for a kid because I wanted one. I offered to quit the band, she went to my manager herself, and convinced him to add a clause into the band contract that said we would only tour when the kids were out of school and that I would have a back up guitarist that traveled with us. So that if I ever had to dip out of a show for a kid, I could. She traveled with us, the band loved her, the crew loved her, I love her.” The use of the present tense hit him in the gut.

“She never complained about being on the road, in fact she said it was great for Lily to experience so much of the world. I promised her I would drop everything the second she asked me to, and she actually believed me when I said it.” The emphasis wasn’t lost on Steve. Eddie said the same thing to him, but he never trusted it.

“When I asked her to marry me, she laughed, and pulled out a ring she got to ask me to marry her. She loved me exactly how I am and I know we would have been together for the rest of our lives if it wasn’t for that asshole drunk driver.”

“I’m sorry Eddie. I shouldn’t have said any of that.” Steve said sufficiently chastised. Eddie scoffed.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have. I get that you’re angry. But don’t take your bullshit out on me, alright? You don’t get to be screaming in my face about my dead wife, because you’re mad you didn’t pull out in time. I was never too much for Lyla, I was enough for her. My love was enough for her! So keep her name out of your mouth.” Eddie growled before he wiped his face on his sleeve and walked away, never looking back.

Steve watched him go, full of even more anger at himself than the last time he saw that look on Eddie’s face: pure heartbreak. Because of Steve’s insecurities. Again.

See it on AO3 here if you liked this and you can, donate to my surgery fund here every little bit helps!

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (41)

part 41 of ?? | 936 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

It seems only right that Eddie makes it his mission to get Steve to believe him. Boost him up, drive home that this really was a great day, make sure he’s smiling for the rest of the night.

41.

Steve is smiling back at him, and Eddie almost can't take how good it feels. “You should play with us again sometime,” he adds, and watches as a blush slides over Steve’s cheeks in the relative darkness of the porch.

He’s not saying it for that reaction—although that’s pretty great, makes him feel a little giddy.

He’s saying it because Steve’s next move is to duck his head and rub at the back of his neck like he isn’t sure it’s the truth. WHat is it about those words that make them so hard to accept, huh?

“Nah. I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”

Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek , because fuck. That sounds like Steve did overhear Gareth and Frank mouthing off the other day. Which is so stupid, because they don’t even know Steve, they have no idea what they’re talking about and should not be considered credible sources. Stuck in high school—god, Margaret had nailed it, as usual. Jeff’s the only one who knows why Eddie is as good as dirt compared to Steve (even if Jeff himself keeps trying for some reason to insist that’s not true, the maniac).

It seems only right that Eddie makes it his mission to get Steve to believe him. Boost him up, drive home that this really was a great day, make sure he’s smiling for the rest of the night.

Eddie bumps the back of one hand, the one holding the last of the joint, against Steve’s arm. Offering. The last hit will be harsh as hell, but he doesn’t want to not offer. Steve jumps a little bit but moves to take it, and Eddie waits until their gazes cross paths to reply, “You’re not a problem, Stevie. Seriously.”

Steve starts coughing on his hit . . . and coughing, and coughing, Jesus H. Christ. Not the right time to pilot test a nickname, apparently—but Eddie hadn’t meant to, it had popped out. Felt like a Stevie moment.

Great job, Munson. 

Maybe someone ought to wire his jaw shut. He mourns his lack of impulse control—not that being high helps—while giving Steve a few thumps on the back. 

“Besides,” he says while Steve continues to hack up a lung, “Jeff and Gareth are the only ones still local, and Jeff’s cool. Gareth will warm up, especially if you keep feeding him. It’s fine.” He pauses, the thumping settling into his palm rubbing slow circles between Steve’s shoulder blades. “Trust me, if Margaret had a problem with you, you’d definitely know about it. And Frank’ll be over it by the next time he visits, as long as everybody else is on board. You’re a good dude now, Steve; people are capable of figuring that out.” And he means it. He means every word so fucking much. 

So much for killing that crush. Steve looks up at him with wide, reddened, watering eyes like he’s been given an unexpected gift and Eddie is more head over heels than he’s ever been for anyone in his whole life—and that includes Han Solo.

“Are we friends?” Steve blurts out, and, okay, maybe they both have an impulsivity problem. Or . . . well, they are both high. 

“Yeah,” Eddie confirms, no hesitation. “The Freak and the Hair, improbable friends after the apocalypse that wasn’t.”

Because they have the truce, and they’re basically coparenting (co-big-brothering?) Dustin, and Steve’s friends all like Eddie (even if Eddie can’t say the reverse of all his friends yet). Hell, they’ve even saved each other's lives. That means they actually are friends, right? That they’ve reached that point?

The smile Steve gives him is watery too, and he hasn’t moved away from Eddie’s hand on his back. (Both of these facts have Eddie’s heart in his throat.) “Okay. Cool.”

They go back inside. Wayne is out catching up with some buddies of his, so they have the house to themselves. 

“We still gotta eat dinner,” Steve points out after they crash onto the inside couch, all loose-limbed and closer than Eddie either realized or expected. “I could make, uh . . . that tuna casserole? With the crunched up potato chips?” 

Eddie blows out a deep breath through loose lips, his head lolling back against the top of the couch. This again. “You already cooked today, man. Let’s just order pizza, okay? My treat.”

“I . . . thought that’s why you shared the last of your weed with me?”

“Oh, that wasn’t the last of it.” Eddie smirks up at him from approximately shoulder height, and Steve. . . . God, Steve looks perfect. The hair, and the sparkle of mischief in his hazel eyes that part of Eddie wants to see if he can make ignite into something else. (Now is not the time for that thought.) “There’s more in my room somewhere, I just didn’t feel like getting up to find it.”

“Uh huh,” Steve says, sounding unimpressed. “How about you go get more of that, and I’ll take care of the pizza, call it even?”

Eddie’s grin widens, and he stands up—Steve watches like never seen anyone do it this way before. He goes legs first, then hips, then his spine and upper body following, all a beat behind the other like a Slinky rolling upright. 

Then he punctuates it with a little jump and a tada flourish. “You are so weird,” Steve says, but he’s grinning back as he says it. Which may not mean anything, but to Eddie, in that moment? It’s everything. He floats into his bedroom, not even bothered by how many places he has to look to track down the rest of his stash.

[demons2003]

Fruity Four (Part 2)

Description: Eddie and Robin play pranks on Steve and Nancy. 

Series

Something very known in their new home that anything could jump out at Nancy and Steve. Since moving in, Eddie and Robin’s friendship has grown and has taken a cheeky turn. They knew the feelings they had for their other room mates but still wouldn’t say anything to each other, afraid that they funny relationship would change. Now, they are trying to figure out the next prank they are pulling on their roommates.

“So, what’s gonna be next?” Robin asks Eddie as she leans over the table, looking over his Dnd notes for the next campaign he’s working on. “Well, I have to finish up with this campaign but nothing is planned for the night,” Eddie remarks as he looks back down at his notes, trying to work out what would be a good beast for the party to try and kill. “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it,” Robin wines and tries to push his papers away. Eddie laughs at her and piles all of his notes into a pile.

He stares up at her and gives her a confused look. “What are you talking about Birdy?” Eddie questions, tilting his head a little. Robin rolls her eyes at him and shakes her head. “What is the next prank we should pull you idiot!” She whisper shouts, knowing that Steve is only in the shower right now. Eddie shrugs and grins wide while asking her, “Well, you want something small or something big?” Robin smiles back and says, “We haven’t done anything big in a while.” Eddie’s grin gets impossibly wider. “Well, we could hide some of there stuff? Or I’ve been seeing these news articles about people hiding 100s of tiny things all over their apartments. Taken months to find them.” Eddie suggests, knowing that Robin loves nothing more then driving Steve a little crazy.

Robin jumps up and down, nodding her head up widely. “Yes!! Where can we get some???” She asks, still jumping up and down a little. “I saw a store somewhere down the road that had a few bags of some colourful ducks?” Eddie says, trying to work out which store it was that had them. Robin just starts jumping up and down more, squealing out a, “Yes!” over and over.

All of a sudden, Robin stops jumping and stares off into the hallway shocked. Eddie looks confused at her and asks, “What’s going on?” She just points over to the hall and covers her mouth with her hand, a grin spreading on her face. Eddie turns around to find Steve glaring at the two of them, and new bright blue hair, a colour he didn’t have before his shower. “We had one rule,” Steve growls at the two of them. If looks could kill, they’d be dead. Eddie grins and turns to Robin. “I also forgot to tell you that I put some blue hair dye in your shampoo and conditioner like you asked. I think we know who uses it.” Eddie grins over at Steve but he continues to glare at the two of them. “Robin,” Steve snarls, staring right at her.

Robin stops laughing and looks at Steve a little scared. “I forgot that we shared a shampoo and conditioner bottle! I really did want to find out who was stealing!” Robin defends. Before Steve can say anything more to her, Eddie buts in to say, “If it means anything, I think the colour makes you look hot.” Steve shuts his mouth and looks at Eddie surprised, not knowing what he can say to that. He blushes and walks away from the two of them, yelling back at them, “Stop with the pranks or I’ll kick you both out!” Eddie and Robin look at each other again and burst out laughing.

A Few Weeks Later

After Steve had the hair dye all come out, he listened to Robin and got it dyed professionally. He really did look good with the blue hair. But because Eddie knew that Steve was feeling better about the prank, he decided that it was time to start the one that him and Robin came up with the day Steve first dyed his hair. He’d dragged Robin to the store he found the ducks out and they spent a long time going through all the different ducks, trying to work out what they wanted to torture Nancy and Steve with. They bought a few of them. A bag of 40 colourful ducks, 40 Halloween ducks, 40 Christmas ducks, 40 valentine ducks and 40 ducks weird funny costumes.

Unfortunate for them, Nancy and Steve were home so they weren’t able to hide any of the ducks until the next day. So, Eddie left the bags in his van and the two spent the night with their roommates.

The next day, when Nancy is at work, Steve is at school and Eddie and Robin were meant to be in class, Eddie and Robin hide the ducks everywhere they could. About 100 ducks were separated into Steve and Nancy’s room. The rest were spread around the living room and kitchen. They even put some in the bathroom. When they were done, the quickly got themselves ready to get their own day ready, but they were excited to watch Steve and Nancy’s expressions when they find the first duck.

The End of the Day

“Really?” Steve yells from the kitchen. Eddie and Robin smile at each other as Steve walks into the room with the flour in his hand. “Why is there a duck in the flour?” He asks, looking between Eddie and Robin. They just smile at Steve and shrug. He groans and throws the duck at Eddie, bouncing it off his head. “Ow!” Eddie exclaims, rubbing his forehead and picking the duck up from the floor. “Your gonna end up with a bruise if Steve does that every time,” Robin laughs. Steve and Nancy look up scared at the two of them while Nancy asks, “How many ducks did you both hide??” Eddie and Robin just continue to smile at them, shrugging again and looking back down at whatever, they were doing. It’s going to be a long time until all those ducks are found. “We need to start getting them back,” Nancy whispers to Steve as she walks past him, trying not to get the attention of Eddie and Robin.

Steve smiles and follows behind her, getting away from the to idiots on the couch. “And how are we going to do that?” Steve asks her, starting to continue making the cookies he was making before the ducks. “Well, what’s the best prank that we could do to get them to stop doing them to us?” Nancy questions, sitting down next to him on the bench. “I don’t know Nanc, maybe we should just leave them be. It could get worse if we try to retaliate,” Steve tries to reason but Nancy’s smirk says otherwise. “You have a duck in your cookie batter,” She points out causing Steve to look down, indeed finding another duck in his batter. He groans and picks the duck out of the batter. He walks out of the kitchen to throw it at Eddie before walking back into the kitchen grinning at Nancy. “What have you go in mind?”

A Few Days Later

It took Steve and Nancy some time to come up with a prank. And they definitely came up with a prank. They new that it was silly but definitely one that would annoy the other two. Something that they didn’t know as that Nancy and Steve had been moving around one of the dolls that Robin had collected as a child as well as a few of Eddies guitar picks around the apartment. When no one was supposed to be in the apartment, Steve or Nancy would go back and moving the things around. Robin and Eddie had been questioning Nancy and Steve about it for days but neither of them were admitting it, which only caused the other two to get more confused about the situation.

“Maybe we have a ghost,” Steve smiles as he flips through one of his books he’s reading for school at the moment. Eddie looks up scared while Robin just laughs. “Yeah right, ghosts aren’t even real,” Robins says, trying to calm down a little. Steve shrugs and looks up to her. “I don’t know. If none of us is moving your stuff around maybe they do,’ Steve explains to her. “Or maybe you both are just crazy,” Nancy butts in, walking into the living room and plopping down on Steve’s lap.

“Would you two no be gross in front of us,” Eddie snaps a little, feeling a little sick at the display. “Nancy looks over proudly while Steve looks confused. “What do you mean? Nancy and you sit like this all the time?” Steve asks him, trying to work out Eddie reaction. “Don’t question it Steve, sometimes Eddie’s just weird where I sit,” Nancy says and gets off Steve’s lap, moving over to Eddies instead. “What the hell?” Steve says, even more confused. “Don’t worry about it, now why would I ghost only be moving our stuff around?” Robin continues to question, trying to wrap her head around the situation.

Steve puts his book down on the table and looks at Robin. “Well, maybe it doesn’t like you recking the house with your pranks,” Steve supplies. “Or maybe you and Nancy are just done with our pranks?” Eddie asks, seeming to be the first of the two to really try to get a confession, Nancy starts to nod her head. “Yeah we are, so why don’t you stop or we’ll start to hid your things,” Nancy tells them, getting off of Eddie and sitting on the arm of Steve’s chair.

“What the hell?” Steve asks, looking at Nancy confused as to why she spilled the beans so quickly. She smiles at him and says, “I’ve had enough of skipping my classes. I really need to get back,” She explains which gets a laugh out of Eddie and Robin. “You know you just started a war right?” Eddie tells them, giving them his biggest and goofiest smile. Steve blushes a little but turns to Nancy with a frown. “I told you that would happen,” Steve says, leaning back against his chair. Nancy shrugs as they both look over at their two idiots huddled in close and whispering about something. “But at least we can keep them out of trouble,” Nancy says as they both watch Eddie and Robin jump up from the crouch and run back to Robins room to plan more pranks to do on Steve and Nancy.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Reflections

Chapter Four

Master List / Real People Master List / Reflections Master List

Pairing: Mia MacAlsdair x Au Tom Hiddleston

Warnings: second hand embarrassment, Mia's a badass, confrontations, 18+ Minors do not interact

A/N: I apologize in advance should my Scottish/English interpretations be incorrect. I am Canadian playing in a world of my own making. Do not @ me.

**I do not tag. **To be notified of updates and new works, subscribe to me or the story on AO3 for email notification, or follow the library blog @tilltheendwilliwrite-library  with notifications turned on so you’re not missing out. An account is required to access my work on AO3. For more information on how to get your FREE AO3 account, see this post.

~

A month passed swiftly, and Mia settled into her new life with a gracious heart. She knew just how wrong everything could have gone and how blessed she was that it hadn't. The reality was, her blessing was so great, it was almost too good to be true, and for the first week at Ashwood Farm - the name of her grandparents' home - she woke every morning, opened her eyes to the wood and dab ceiling, and sighed in relief because it wasn't a dream.

Once, a very long time ago, the farm ran sheep, but in the last few generations, the MacAlasdairs had moved into acquiring business holdings instead. Still, there were a few horses, a flock of ducks and geese, and a coup of chickens along with Jasper and Eddie - the pair of farm dogs, a golden retriever and a border collie. They were very friendly, and every day, when Mia walked the border fence of stone, they went along with her. 

The dogs belonged to Henry, who looked after the animals and grounds. According to Cora, he was in his early forties and a confirmed bachelor. A little gruff around the edges, he wore his beard scruffy and a knit cap pulled low, taming his head of copper curls. He had the physique of a man used to hard labour, and if Mia hadn't recently come out of a disaster of a relationship, his deep voice and fit body might have given her pause, but as it was, she felt little in the way of attraction though the man was good looking. Hazel eyes watched her whenever Mia crouched to pet the dogs or stopped to stroke the horses' soft noses. 

He'd introduced himself that first day with almost an annoyed growl, stared hard at the bruises around her eye, then turned on his heel with a command to follow him when Mia asked about her grandfather's woodworking shop. 

She expected him to lead her to a quaint little shed, not a miniature stone cabin with big, bright windows. It had a great pot belly stove in the corner, long work benches, shelves, and miles of storage. Though it was currently covered in dust and wood chips, half the cottage seemed dedicated to a lounge area where her grandfather likely sat to read, drink, or spend time with friends in his 'mancave.'

The idea of it made her giggle, and Henry cast her a curious glance, before telling her he could assist in cleaning out the space if she wanted to take it over. 

Mia thanked him but ultimately declined. Her grandad's half-finished pieces would remain, though she would put them up on display, and until she knew what to do with them, his tools and extra pieces of wood could be packed up and placed in a corner out of the way. 

Within a few days, she had her studio set up between her grandfather's work benches and his sitting room. The long tables would give her a drying area, while the space in the middle had the best light.

Once she was all set and working again, Cora visited under the pretense of bringing her tea - they both knew she was snooping - but Mia didn't mind. But when Cora gasped and gushed over Mia's paintings, exclaiming at what she was seeing, Mia blushed. 

She knew they were good, having sold many at craft fairs and gained a few commissions from people she met, but the validation was nice. 

Mia painted portraits on mirrors sourced from auctions, thrift stores, yard sales, pretty much anywhere she could buy a decent piece of glass or a pretty frame. She called them Reflections for the care that went into the work, and it was a multi-step process to create. 

First, the outline of the portrait was marked, and the underside of the picture was painted. For commissions, she liked to talk with the person about their goals, hobbies, great loves, and the things that filled their soul. Those things were painted on the mirror, but backward, like window painters who created the outline first so the image could be properly seen from the outside. 

One had to peek behind the paint to see the inner reflection. 

Then, on a second piece of glass, cut to fit the mirror perfectly, she painted the portrait of the individual. She kept them as photo-realistic as possible but did so with bright colours. A portrait could be blue and pink and yellow, orange or green; it really depended on how she felt at the time of the painting or the requests made by the customer.

Then, the pieces were sandwiched together, creating a double effect. One had to look closely to see the inner understanding of a person's soul in the reflection. 

It had taken years for Mia to perfect her craft, and she still had to make sure she sourced the correct kind of mirror to give her the depth she needed. She would need to find new suppliers now that she was in Scotland, but there was an auto shop in town that did windshield repair, and upon finding out who she was, the owner appeared happy to deal with her. 

Now, a month in, she knew quite a few villagers by name thanks to the shopping trips with Cora, who gleefully introduced her around. 

It seemed Cora made bread, pies, and other amazing pastries for the farmers market that took place monthly. Much of the fruit and veg came from the gardens and orchards around the house. When Cora asked if she would still be alright with that, offering the same deal - fifteen percent of her earnings for using the kitchen and harvesting Mia's land - Mia agreed but knocked the price down to ten percent. Cora argued that fifteen was perfectly fair and refused to pay a penny less. Sighing, Mia relented but asked if Cora would mind her tagging along to the market. 

This was when Cora somehow convinced Mia to open a booth with her artwork beside Cora's. 

And thus, on a blustery May day, Mia - the proud owner of a new pop-up awning - was finishing setting up beside Cora.

They left up two walls on each tent to keep out the wind but kept the ones at the front and between their booths open, just in case Cora got busy and needed a second set of hands. 

Mia displayed what she could do around her booth, on tables and hanging from quickly sourced Amazon finds. Some paintings were full-sized in gilt frames, propped on easels, or hanging from hastily erected wire. Smaller paintings, those the size of regular printer paper, sat in cardboard boxes like old records waiting to be flipped through. And still more, pendants Mia painted with hyper-realistic flowers under glass hung from little stands.   

Henry hadn't seemed too keen on helping, but Cora browbeat him into packing the truck and getting them to the town square in Kelso early in the morning. 

It had been a long time since Mia exhibited, and though she was excited, she was also nervous. Most people now knew she was a MacAlasdair. Would they think she was cheeky for attempting to sell her art at a decent price when she didn't need the money?

Her fears were unwarranted when people began to trickle by. Soon, Cora was doing a hopping business, and Mia was busy talking about what she did and why. 

Throughout the morning, she found three people interested in commissions and eagerly handed out hastily made-up business cards. 

She just finished up with a woman wondering if she could do something similar to commemorate the loss of her husband's best sheepdog - to which Mia gave an enthusiastic yes, she would love to paint a dog - when Cora called her name. 

Friendly smile plastered on, she turned to find a stunning brunette, two young boys - their faces sticky from something sweet and chocolatey - and a tall, strapping man. 

"Mia, ye've not met the Hiddlestons of Highpark Castle. This is Emma Bruce, her lads Keegan and Calvin, and Kristopher Hiddleston."

She crossed to stand behind Cora's baked goods covered table and held out her hand to the woman. "It's a pleasure. I see your home every day on my walk."

Emma grinned, her blue eyes bright and sparkling. "I've heard so much about you already! The whole village is buzzing regarding our new Canadian transplant. How are you adjusting?"

Mia laughed and shook the firm grip, smiling at the boys. "Just fine for the most part. There's been a bit of culture shock and a steep learning curve, but I'm figuring it out." She leaned closer and stage whispered, "But if you happen to have a Scot's saying dictionary, I would like to borrow it."

"Ock! Yer fine. Ye always blink like an owl when ye dinnae ken something," Cora huffed. 

Emma laughed and winked. "Try being married to one. The brogue gets thick, and even I struggle."

"I did wonder," Mia chuckled, her accent very posh English. 

"That's what happens when a Scottish keep ends up in the hands of an English Lord," the man laughed, holding out his hand. "It's a pleasure, Mia. Please, call me Kip. Everyone does. And I must say, I adore what you're doing here." 

Hand firmly caught in his, Mia allowed him to tug her back into her booth, where he oozed charm and cooed over her work. 

"I would love to have one of these for my fiancée. She would adore it!" he proclaimed, causing Mia to frown. 

"Fiancée?" she murmured, glancing at Emma.

Kip snickered. "She's my sister."

"Oh!" Mia blushed. Emma said she was married to a Scot, and Kip was the upper crust side of an English accent, but she and Kip looked nothing alike beyond the bright blue of their eyes. 

Emma was short with a petite, curvy frame and dark hair. Kip was tall and fit, more like a runner than a lumberjack. His sandy blond hair had a touch of copper, but not enough to call it strawberry, just enough to make it shine with red lights, even with the grey and cloudy sky hiding the sun.

"Don't trouble yourself, love," he winked, his smile flashing straight white teeth. 

"Ignore him, Mia," Emma quipped. "He's just annoyed you're not fawning all over him."

Mia frowned. "Why would I?"

"Ugh! I'm destroyed. My heart will never be the same," the man pouted as Emma's boys laughed. 

They looked about seven and ten and immediately made fun of their uncle. 

"Looks like your fame hasn't spread to Canada, Uncle Kip!" Keegan snickered. 

"Yeah, guess you have to try harder," Calvin giggled. 

Kip huffed and playfully locked both boys in headlocks. "Bah! Perhaps Mia doesn't like movies, television, or theatre?" 

"I like movies," Mia muttered, still perplexed. "I also like TV."

The boys burst out laughing. "See! Not that famous!"

Kip pouted. "Mia, darling, come on! Throw a man a bone. The Essex Serpent? Crimson Peak? Kong: Skull Island? For pity's sake, woman! Thor Ragnarok?"

"Ragnarok?" Mia tilted her head. "You were in Ragnarok?"

Kip raised his hands, triumphant. "Yes! I played Loki."

She blinked, arched a brow, and scowled. "Oh, you're that guy."

"I beg your pardon?"

Mia sighed and thrust a hand through her hair, muttering, "Odin's one eye," before forcing a smile. "Look, no offence, but I prefer the other guy."

Emma squeaked and slapped a hand over her mouth, but her eyes danced with utter delight. 

"Other guy?" Kip asked, crossing his arms. 

"Yes, the one in the first two Thor movies and Avengers. I'm not great with actor names, which is probably why I didn't recognize yours, but I never understood why they replaced the other guy. He made an incredible Loki. I was impressed." As was the God he portrayed, though her Loki was still annoyed about the hair. "I thought he put real passion into the role and gave him such depth of emotion. Nothing was more powerful than when he confronted Odin about being a Frost Giant. The utter hurt and betrayal gave me goosebumps. And in Avengers, when he was fighting Thor on the tower, and that single tear trickled down his cheek at sentiment." Mia shook her head. "Magic."

Kip stared, mouth agape, while Emma beamed, and the boys giggled like they had a secret. 

"What? I know I can get a little passionate-"

"Tom!" Emma squealed. "It was Tom! Our brother Tom played Loki in the first three movies."

Heat burned through Mia's face. Talk about fawning like an idiot. And to his family, no less. 

"Gods, I'm so embarrassed," she groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead. 

"No, no, darling," Kip chuckled. "I agree. Tom was a better Loki than me. Would that he could have continued excelling as an actor."

"Unfortunately, our parents passed away unexpectedly," Emma murmured sadly. "The estate and responsibilities fell on Tom as the heir. He gave it all up to come home and take over as Lord of Highpark."

"And allowed me to rise under my own star," Kip smiled gently. "Had he stayed in the industry, I know many of the roles I've won would never have come my way. He put me forth to replace him in many of the parts earmarked for him, and when Ragnarok came up, it was because of our near-identical looks and voice that I was granted that opportunity as well. I owe my brother quite a lot," he murmured, staring at her curiously. 

Suspicion caused Mia to squint at him. "What?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing. Nothing. Now, back to my commission." 

He began talking about his fiancée, going on about how they just had a baby and how she was an actress rising on the Hollywood stage. He spoke about how they met doing Broadway and thought she would adore Mia's work. 

With her birthday coming soon, he wanted to surprise her with something unique and special, and Mia's art was right up that alley. 

Mia nodded along, making notes on her phone as they went, jotting down everything from the size he desired to her favourite colours to little tidbits Kip doled out about how great of a mom she was and how happy they were together. 

The love fest gave Mia a pang in her chest, but she didn't let her smile waver.

Mia handed him a business card and asked him to email her so she could send him her contract and questionnaire. She informed him her commissions were first come, first served, and if he didn't want to wait for his painting to act soon as she already had a few interested parties.

Kip snorted, pulled out his phone, and shot off an email as she stood watching, amused.

Mia's phone pinged. She pulled it from her pocket, read the subject line, and burst out laughing. "Do me first? You're lucky I enjoy a quirky sense of humour."

"I thought you might," Kip snickered, tucking her business card away with his phone before the boys tugged at his hands. "Speak soon, Mia!" 

She chuckled along with Cora and Emma as the obviously bored children dragged him away. 

"It was a pleasure, Mia. Come by the house one day. We'll have tea. I'd love to get to know you better," Emma smiled. "Any time, any day. I'm usually free."

"I'd like that," Mia agreed. "I'll let you know when Kip's portrait is finished. We can kill two birds."

"Lovely," Emma nodded, giving a little wave as she headed off. "I should rescue Kip before the boys convince him more ice cream before lunch is a good idea."

"Bye!" Mia waved, watching them go. 

"So…"

She turned to face a smirking Cora and arched a brow. "What?"

"Familiar with our Tom, are ye?"

Mia's face burned, and she hurriedly turned away. "Stuff it, old woman."

Cora cackled and went to speak with a customer.

~

In a lull around mid-afternoon, Mia escaped her booth to walk around. Cora assured her she would hand out cards to anyone interested, and said she'd heard Mia's spiel enough times to give the speech herself if necessary but would call her to come back if someone wanted to speak with her. 

Mia walked the market with genuine interest, happily stopping to sample what she could where she could or stop and talk to the fibre artists, potters, and wood carvers when they weren't busy with other customers. 

She wound up the proud new owner of three gorgeous wool sweaters, a cute purple toque - though she confused the poor woman when she called the knit cap that - and matching mittens. She bought a pair of heavy mugs in a black glaze speckled with white and shot through with smears of colour. They looked like galaxies on clay, and she had to own them. And when she stopped at the wood carvers tent, a bowl of ebony wood with a high polish caught her eye, as did a matching carved raven. 

Mia headed back to her booth with her treasures in tow and belly full of samples. 

Cora chuckled when she saw her. "I told ye to take a few bags."

"I did!" Mia laughed, tucking her finds under a table out of the way. "I ran out of room. There are just so many talented artisans here. Between the food, the drink, and the art, this could be a dangerous place to come to more than once a month."

Cora chuckled, but her laughter died on a gruff, "Canna help ye?"

Mia rose and turned to see a man in his mid-thirties, with brown hair and eyes, his long black coat twisting around his legs in the wind. He was staring at her, his face a mask of unreadable granite. 

Something about him gave Mia the willies. 

"Ye want something, Benedict Campell?" Cora snapped. 

The man cast her a disdain-filled glance before returning his focus to Mia. 

"I came to meet our new resident," the man said, his accent thick.

"Nice to meet you," Mia nodded, even as Cora snorted. 

A squint came to his eyes as he studied her before he stepped into Mia's booth. "Yer younger than I thought."

Mia frowned. "Thank you?"

"Braw, too." He took another step toward her. 

Mia pressed backward. The man sent chills up her spine. 

The quorking of a raven gave her courage, and she straightened her spine. She'd worked in customer service and dealt with worse creeps before. "Is there something you want, sir?"

He arched a brow, amusement curling his lips into a cruel smile. "I was hoping ye would sell Ashwood Farm to me."

Mia crossed her arms and lifted her chin. "Nope."

The other brow joined the first in his hairline. "Surely yer not staying in Kelso?"

"I am, I can, and I will."

"Ye've had yer answer, Campbell. Aff wit ye!" Cora demanded, stepping between them, her brogue thickening.

He sneered at Cora before glaring at Mia. "Think about it. I'll give ye a great price."

Mia snorted. "Gods, no. Please leave."

"Yer makin'-" 

Mia stepped around Cora and into the man so aggressively he stepped back in surprise, and she walked him backwards out of her booth. 

"My sign is No. My number is No. My answer is No. You need to let it go! Bye-bye now!" Yes, she did just quote a Megan Trainer song. No, she didn't regret it. 

Mia wiggled her fingers, cocked her head, and sashayed back into the tent. 

"This isn't over."

"Yep. It is. There's nothing that will make me sell the last link I have to my heritage and family, so please, kindly fuck off," Mia smiled sweetly. "Attempt to harass me in any way, and I'll set my lawyers on your mangy ass."

Campbell scowled and stalked off.

"Ock, now ye've done it," Cora snickered. 

"Done what?" Mia asked.

"That's Benedict Campbell. He's a high-mucky muck property developer. He's been after Ashwood Farm for years, but yer grandad always told him to feck off, too. So good on ye, but ye may want to give Fergus a call and let him know Campbell's up to his shenanigans again. Fergus had to cease and desist his arse once already."

"I'll do that," Mia murmured, glaring after the asshole. 

"Just ken, his da is Kelso's mayor."

Mia sighed and rolled her eyes. "Joy."

"Not to worry. You own the building the mayor's office resides in."

The utter glee Cora took in that fact made Mia laugh. "Well, eviction is always an option."

Cora snickered before eyeing Mia appreciatively. 

"What?"

"Ye stood up to him."

Mia shrugged. "Of course. He's just a bully and a chauvinistic pig."

Cora frowned and waved a hand in the direction of Mia's face. "I thought…"

"Oh. Yeah, no. That was a one-off, and after I picked myself off the floor, I threatened Colt with a lamp. I'm not a pushover, but five years of nitpicking beat me down. He was subtle and slow about it. It took taking the hit to wake me up. But no, I spent a lot of years in foster care. You toughen up quick."

"Mia," Cora murmured, pity crawling across her face.

She turned to fuss with the display she knocked over when Campbell caused her to retreat into the table. "It's not like I was abused, but you learn fast to be independent, and yeah, you figure out how to take a punch and throw one."

"Lord, love a duck," Cora muttered before grabbing Mia and yanking her down for a hug. "Well, no more. Ye've family in me now. Me and Henry. We'll look after ye."

"Thank you," Mia sighed. She didn't mean to upset Cora, but sometimes her filter… didn't. "I want you to know I'm really happy here, more so than I thought I would be. And I've met so many people. It's like I finally found… home."

"That's 'cause ye have, lass," Cora murmured. "Ye truly have."

Mia pulled back, her smile damp but still bright. "So… there's a booth at the end where the Anderson kids have a box full of kittens…."

Cora snickered and shook her head. "If yer getting one, get two. They can have a playmate. We'll train 'em to stay off my countertops, but they'll be good to keep down the mice."

"We have mice!" Mia hissed.

"In a house that auld? Of course, we've mice! But a couple wee kitties, and they'll solve the issue right quick."

Mia shuddered. "Yeah, okay, yeah. I'm getting two."

Cora chuckled. "Text Henry to come get ye. Ye can head to the store and get what's needed afore they close."

"I've always wanted a cat," Mia grinned and hugged Cora again. "Thank you, Cora!"

"Bah!" She flapped her hands, her cheeks red. "Tis yer house."

"But you live there, too, so if you didn't want them, I wouldn't get them."

Cora eyed her, bemused and shook her head. "Yer a good lass, a little strange but sweet. Now, gaun. Aff wit ye. There's a good dent in yer work, and mine, so packing up will be quick when yer back."

Mia giggled, nodded, and hurried off, pulling out her phone as she rushed to see if the kittens she fell in love with were still available.

~

As Mia settled down for bed that night, it was with a pair of furry bed warmers. The grey kitten with the black tiger stripes she called Tyr, and the white with the cinnamon mask, ears, tail tip, and toes she named Idunn.

They were wonderfully sweet, loving, and adorably affectionate. It surprised her how affectionate when they followed her around the house rather than running off to explore. 

There was no fear in the pair. She expected them to be skittish and hide under the furniture, but they didn't. They pounced along behind her, chasing her heels as she set up a litter box near the back entrance and a second in her bathroom. She wanted to keep the scamps with her at night for a while, just until they were comfortable, but she didn't need any accidents. 

Crawling into bed, she smiled when they scrambled up the bedding, jumped across the comforter, and climbed into her lap, where they snuggled together and began to purr. 

Mia smiled and stroked their soft fur as she looked around her room. 

Candles glowed on Loki's altar next to his new raven statue, a fire crackled in the fireplace, and fresh flowers bloomed on the mantle in a polished crystal vase. 

Beyond the windows, the night closed in around the farm. It was still overcast, so she couldn't see the stars, but there was hardly any light pollution on the farm. One day, she knew she would look up and see the glory of the cosmos again.

The night sky in Canada could be so majestic, but it was hard to see from the city. Out here, on Ashwood Farm, she imagined it would be spectacular. 

The presence beside her drew her from her musings. 

"Thank you."

For?

Mia looked up, but there was no one there. Not physically at least. 

She smiled and held out her hand. The warmth of someone grasping her fingers filled her with peace, comfort and joy.  

"Everything. I know you had a hand in all this."

If I did, you deserve it. The hardships of the past have not soured your spirit. You make me proud, girl.

Mia blushed and pulled her hand away. "Thank you, Loki."

If you really want to thank me, you will read the good parts out loud.

Mia laughed at his teasing. "You're terrible."

You love it.

Yeah, she did.

Next Chapter

[corrodedhawkins]

The Hideout: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Based off of this post from @mantorokk-writes I hope you like it, babe

Content warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) language, inexperienced Eddie, eventual slightly cocky Eddie, underage drinking, oral (m! and f! receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, teasing, multiple orgasms, praise, spit, creampie.

May 1984

This is the last place you thought you’d be tonight, in Eddie Munson’s bedroom after the graduation party where he should have been celebrating. Instead, you found him nursing a beer outside, still reeling from the news that he wasn’t graduating after all.

You’d had a crush on Eddie all year, too nervous to do much more than smile at him as you passed each other in the hallway. Feeling bold thanks to the two beers you’ve downed, you decided to sit yourself beside him on the steps of the back porch and actually talk to him.

Which is how you ended up on your back in his bed, hands tangled in his hair as he grinds down onto your thigh.

Eddie’s fingers snake up your spine, hovering for a moment over the clasp of your bra as he kisses you soft and slow. He pinches and pulls at it, but doesn’t get close to unhooking it.

“Eddie?”, you ask from underneath him, detaching your mouth from his.

“Y—yeah?”, he replies shakily.

You look up at him curiously, “need help?”

He laughs breathlessly against your shoulder, “please.”

Sitting up slightly to get your hands behind your back, you expertly unclasp your bra to be discarded on the floor.

You can’t help but giggle as you watch Eddie’s eyes widen as they settle on your tits for the first time.

“Fuckin’ perfect”, he breaths, bending down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, the other cupped in his hand as he squeezes a little too hard.

“Shit. Sorry, sorry”, he mumbles against your skin when you hiss, loosening his grip.

His mouth returns to your nipple, licking and sucking like he’s trying to make up for hurting you. “S’okay”, you sigh, head falling back into the pillows.

Eddie gives your chest ample attention before kissing down your stomach, stopping at the band of your panties. “Can I?”

“Yeah”, you return his soft smile, laughing when he grabs the material with his teeth, pulling them down before using his hands to get them off your legs.

Sitting back on his calves, his eyes roam over your exposed skin, blush evident on his cheeks.

“Have you—have you ever done this before?”, you ask hesitantly, lifting yourself onto your elbows to look at him when he doesn’t make a move.

“Uh. Well, yes, technically”, he fiddles with the rings on his fingers, spinning the skull back and forth. “It was in the bathroom after a Corroded Coffin show with some random chick? I lasted all of ten seconds.” His cheeks heat further, head ducking down in embarrassment.

Thankfully, Eddie lasts a good five minutes this time, which he’s secretly very proud of. He even makes you cum before he did, fumbling to thumb at your clit until you’re clenching around him right before he finishes.

With one last sweet kiss, you get dressed and drive home, rushing to make the strict curfew your parents had set for you. That summer had been a whirlwind for you, packing and preparing for college as you worked a summer job, too busy to make time to see Eddie again. By mid-August you were gone without so much as a goodbye.

October 1988

“We have work in the morning”, you grumble as your best friend Sophia shuffles you into the club, The Hideout sign glowing above the door.

“I know, I know”, she takes a seat at the bar, gesturing to the bartender that you’re ready to order. “But you need to get out more, live a little. Listen to some good music, maybe meet a guy.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, taking a swig of the beer the bartender sets down in front of you. “I think I’m on a hiatus from men right now”, you mumble. Your last few relationships had been pretty disastrous.

It’s hard to have much hope for a future relationship now that you’ve moved back to Hawkins after college graduation. Unless something has changed drastically in the last four years, this town had very slim pickings. Poor Soph had no idea what she was getting herself into, moving here with you after you’d landed a job at the same company.

“Give it up for Corroded Coffin!”, you spin around on the bar stool and stare at the stage, mouth agape as you watch the band take their places.

Eddie fucking Munson saunters out onto the stage, his brown waves illuminated by the bright lights behind him. He looks good. Really, really good.

“Oh my god, Soph”, you grab her arm, shaking her as you stare at the stage.

“What?” She looks between you and the stage, “what am I missing?”

You pull her close to talk into her ear over the opening notes of their first song. “The lead singer!”

“I know, he’s hot!”, she laughs, letting out a whoop when he grabs the mic and starts to sing.

“No! I mean. Yes, he is but—I know him.”

“Carnally?”, her eyebrows raise.

“Oh fuck off”, you laugh. “Yes.”

“When?”

“The night of my high school graduation. Never saw him again.” Your head bops to the beat, eyes never leaving Eddie.

“And? How was he?” She leans in closer, waiting to hear all the details.

“It was…we were teenagers! It was sloppy and awkward but good. He was good.” You watch him playing to the crowd, winking at a girl right in front before making his way to the other side of the stage, playing his guitar back to back with his band mate.

You feel an elbow jab your rib, turning your head to find her grinning wickedly. “I bet he’s even better now.”

Sophia grabs your hand as their set ends, and you down the last of your drink before you’re dragged right up to the stage. Eddie’s back is to the room, carefully packing his guitar away in its case.

“Eddie Munson?”, Sophia taps him on the shoulder.

“As I live and breathe.”

She grins like an idiot when he turns around and stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. “I believe you know my friend.”

“Hi”, you mumble, cheeks growing hot under his gaze. You could kill her.

Eddie licks his lips, eyes flicking over you quickly. “Hi. Yeah, I remember. Y—you look great”, he breathes. You could kiss her.

Before you can reply, Soph puts her hand on the small of your back, urging you closer to Eddie. “Well, you kids have fun.” She shoots you a wink over her shoulder, making her way back to the bar to order another drink.

“Smooth.”, he deadpans, turning back to his guitar case to close it. “So, how long are you in town for?”

“Oh I’m not visiting. I just moved back, actually.” You fiddle with a loose thread on the cuff of your jacket, watching him put down the case and turn back towards you.

“Oh yeah? Had to come see me as soon as you got settled?” He smirks down at you, eyes playful.

Flustered, you shake your head and try to explain yourself. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you tonight.”

“I’m glad you did.” His brown eyes bore into yours, almost daring you to take the bait.

“Oh, is that so?”, you tease.

“Mhmm”, he hums, crowding into your space. “I’d love to catch up with you.”

You grab his hand, twirling one of his rings around his finger. “I’m sure you would. Still got that shitbox van?”

“Have fun be safe!”, Sophia calls as she watches you leave hand in hand with Eddie.

“I gotta give it to her, she’s a great wingman”, Eddie laughs as you both step out into the chilly October air. “We’ll have to send her a fruit basket.”

You find the van parked a few spots away from the entrance, the passenger side door held open for you as he bows, “M’lady.”

“Why thank you, kind sir”, you curtesy ridiculously before hopping up into the van.

The short drive to the quarry is fairly quiet, tension crackling between you silently, Eddie’s hand resting on your thigh the whole way. His thumb moves back and forth over your leg teasingly, squeezing every so often, the touch making your pussy throb.

You’re thrown from your thoughts when the van stops, Eddie shifting it into park before killing the engine. He’s on you in an instant, his big, ring-clad hand cupping your jaw to pull you in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

He keeps it slow at first, letting you feel each careful slide of his lips against yours, leaving you feeling breathless and needy. When he slides his tongue over the seam of your lips, a desperate moan escapes before you can stop it.

Your first instinct is to pull back, to hide your face until your cheeks stop burning, but he doesn’t let you. Before you can move, he growls against your lips, pulling you impossibly closer by the back of your neck until your chests are pressed tightly together.

Eddie’s lips on yours are insistent, claiming in a way you’ve never felt before. The way he dominates the kiss, tilting your head exactly the way he wants, so sure and confident, is really doing something for you.

“Back. In back”, you pant against his cheek, moaning when he squeezes your ass through your jeans.

He nods curtly, drivers side door flung open, hurrying around the front of the van. Yanking your door open, he pulls you out of your seat, spinning you to press you up against the side of the van.

Your legs are kicked open, his strong thigh slotting itself between yours. Eddie grabs your hips to help you grind down onto him, groaning when he feels the heat radiating off your core.

“Christ, baby”, he winds his hands into your hair, moving your head to the side to kiss and bite the delicate skin.

He feels the vibration of your impatient grumble against his lips, chuckling softly when you insist back of the van, now before you push him off of you, determined to get him horizontal.

The heavy back doors of the van slam behind him, and he’s quick to plaster himself against you, biting at your bottom lip as he lays you down, settling over top of you. He takes advantage of the way you gasp at the bite to your lip, plundering your now open mouth with his tongue.

One hand trails down to your chest, groping you over your shirt until he can feel your nipples harden, pinching them through the fabric. Gasping raggedly against his mouth, you snake your hands underneath his t-shirt, raking your nails up and down his bare sides.

He shivers, plucking his shirt up and over his head to give you better access. Slipping his hand up under your shirt, he rucks it up to sit right under the band of your bra. Kissing from the button on your jeans up to where your shirt lays bunched against your ribs, he looks up and holds your gaze, teeth grazing along the sensitive skin.

You do the work for him, slipping your shirt over your head before laying back down, pulling him to settle back on top of you. Eddie’s hand grips your side, slowly traveling up your spine until he feels the clasp of your bra.

Biting back a laugh, you rest your forehead against his shoulder, “need some help?”

He huffs against your ear, expertly unclasping your bra before pulling the straps down your arms. “I think I finally got the hang of it, but thanks.”

Head dipping down to nuzzle into your chest, he murmurs hushed praises against your skin. “Fuck—your tits are just as perfect as I remembered”, his mouth latches onto your hardened nipple, tongue laving over the bud as you grab onto his hair to hold him close against your chest.

After a few moments you get impatient, gently guiding his head away from your chest down to where you need him most. He goes willingly, suddenly desperate to taste you.

“Didn’t even get my mouth on you last time. Such a fuckin’ idiot”, he says against the skin just above the band of your jeans, almost talking to himself. “Get these off.”

You shed your jeans, tossing them to the other side of the van, yelping when Eddie grabs your thighs and spreads them, holding them in place.

He leans in, nosing at the growing wet patch on your panties. “This all for me, sweetheart?”, he asks. “You want my mouth? Hm?”

“Yeah, please”, you breathe, hips bucking up as you feel his hot breath fan over you through the thin material.

His fingers wrap around the band of your panties to pull them off, this time without using his teeth. He spreads your folds with his thumbs, making you gasp as he spits directly into your clit before diving in to lick a hot, wet stripe over you.

Taking his time, he re-learns what you like, moving on when he sucks at your lips and doesn’t get much of a reaction. Instead, he tries sucking sloppy kisses into the side of your clit, getting the reaction he’d hoped for when he feels you grind down onto his mouth, his name on your lips.

Eddie taps two fingers against your bottom lip, humming against your clit in approval when you open your mouth and greedily suck them in, tongue laving over the digits to get them wet.

He lets you play with them for a moment before snatching them back, rubbing them over your soaked hole before slipping one into you slowly.

“Oh fuck”, you gasp as he fucks his thick finger into you, adding a second once he feels your muscles relax. His two fingers twist into you, crooking upwards exactly the way you like.

“Yeah?”, he asks, mouth lifting from your clit when your back arches, mewling as his fingertips rub incessantly over your g-spot. “Right there?”

This is so different than the last time, Eddie murmuring a quiet yeah? when you’d moaned his name, in awe that he could elicit that kind of reaction from you.

This time, his yeah? is confident, almost condescending because he knows exactly what he’s doing and he’s being a smug bastard about it.

“Mhmm”, you hum, gripping his forearm, nails biting into the skin as you grind yourself down onto his fingers. “Please don’t stop.”

His mouth finds your clit again, sucking and swirling his tongue over the swollen bud until you’re panting, lip bitten between your teeth. “Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”, he asks against your inner thigh, fingers never stopping their assault.

“Yes”, you whimper, legs starting to shake, release hitting so fast you’re almost shocked when you feel yourself clamp down around his fingers, hole spasming as you cum hard.

“There you go”, he murmurs, licking lightly over your clit to work you through your orgasm until you’re batting at his head to get him to stop.

Your hands are on his shoulders, hauling him up to kiss him rough and dirty, tasting yourself on his tongue. “So fucking good”, you pant against his lips as you cup the bulge in his jeans, earning a gasp from Eddie as he grinds into your palm.

In what seems like just seconds, Eddie gets his boxers and jeans off, switching positions with you so he’s the one on his back. Leaning in, your mouth hovers just over his cock for a moment, biting back a smirk when you feel it kick, the head briefly bumping against your bottom lip.

His hands card through your hair, gathering the strands to hold at the back of your head, making sure he has an unobstructed view.

Tongue darting out to swirl messily over the head to get him worked up, you stay there a moment before finally wrapping your lips around him. It earns you a ragged gasp, Eddie’s head snapping back against the floor of the van as you take him deeper into your mouth.

Your hand wraps around the shaft right under where your lips are stretched around him , following in your mouth’s wake as you bob up and down his cock. The head nudges the back of your throat and he chokes out a groan, long and loud as his hands tighten in your hair.

“Okay, okay”, he pants, pulling you up to reclaim your lips.

“How do you want me?”, you ask, expecting him to usher you into his lap so that you can ride him.

“On your back”, he replies instead, grabbing your discarded clothes to use as a makeshift pillow for your head. “For old time’s sake.”

Settling back against the pile of clothes, you spread your legs for Eddie to settle between. Canting your hips up, you hike your legs up around his waist, desperate to feel him inside of you.

Eddie’s hand wraps around the base of his cock, running the head between your folds to gather your slick. He presses into you slowly, eyes flicking up to watch your face as the head breaches you.

Head already thrown back in pleasure, the slow, steady slide of him against your walls is almost overwhelming you. He pauses, mistaking the furrow of your brow for pain.

“No, no m’okay”, you pant. “Please keep going.”

Leaning down, he tucks himself into the crook of your neck as he bottoms out, smearing messy kisses against the underside of your jaw. He pauses for just a moment before pulling halfway out slowly before rocking back into you.

He sets a languid pace, letting you feel every inch of him as he takes you apart slowly. Soon you’re panting his name against his mouth, arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Eddie tilts your hips up, grabbing the backs of your thighs to press them into your chest. The new position allows him to sink even deeper, hitting your g-spot so precisely you nearly wail, earning a smug smirk from him.

“Is that good?”, he teases, hips snapping into you faster, the sound of your skin slapping together filing the van.

A nod is all you can reply, the words getting lost in your throat as you whimper and whine. You’re getting close again, the hot coil of pleasure in your belly beginning to unravel.

He feels it, the way you start to clench and shake, lashes damp as your orgasm overtakes you. Growling, his thrusts turn frantic, his cock dragging over your walls only prolonging your orgasm.

“Where—fuck—where do you want it?”, he asks frantically, suddenly closer than he realized.

“In me. Wanna feel you cum in me”, you pant.

That’s all he needs to near before his hips stutter, thrusting all the way into you before cumming with a loud groan against your neck.

You lay panting, hand running through his curls as you catch your breath.

“I don’t remember you being so damn cocky last time”, you chide.

A breathless laugh rumbles through his chest as he pulls back from your neck to look at you. “I’ve learned a few things over the last few years, sweetheart. I think I deserve to be a little confident after that performance.”

You don’t disagree.

[bewilderedbunny]

More line cook Eddie thoughts 🥞

(Thank you all for the love on part 1 💖 It means the world to me that people enjoyed it.)

This flirty fluff is just over 700 words, fem!reader although you could switch it from "his girl" to "his boy" or "his person" if you'd like!

Credit to @delishlydelightfuldividers for the divider (I needed some way to break up my erratic thoughts and I chose this honey one to match the breakfast theme)

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

"Hey Eddie, can I please get a side of extra crispy bacon for this table?"

He frowns at you and looks around the kitchen dramatically, "Who's Eddie?" It takes you a second before you realize his game and reply, "Chef, can I please get a side of extra crispy bacon for this table?" A big toothy grin stretches across his face "Sweetheart, I'd give you the whole pig if you asked." As ridiculous as his joke is, it manages to give you butterflies.

Once the bacon is ready, you go to grab the plate from him and graze his hand with yours. You jump a bit at the sensation and he blushes and murmurs "You'd think I'd be used to touching hot stuff by now, wouldn't you?" he's such a dork.

One evening when it's especially slow, you're vacuuming the carpet. It's already spotless but you're just trying to find anything to keep yourself busy. Eddie is sitting on one of the stools, mindlessly twiddling with a toothpick. Once you make your way to where he's seated, he kicks out his foot in front of the vacuum. You look up at him, he's still focused on his toothpick and doesn't acknowledge your presence. You move out of the way and he does it again, still not acknowledging you as he tries desperately to hide his growing smirk. You turn off the vacuum.

"Do you need somethin', chef?"

He blushes the tiniest bit, still not looking at you.

"Nope, all good here sweetheart." He walks off to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a piece of toast.

You ignore him and continue working with your head down. You notice a line of crumbs in front of where you know you just barely vacuumed. When you look up, Eddie has his back to you as he makes a trail of breadcrumbs for you to vacuum.

You turn off the vacuum and ask him, "What are you doing?! Can't you see I'm trying to clean?"

"Honey I'm helping you! You were just vacuuming air." He still isn't looking at you. The fact that he's bothering you so much while simultaneously ignoring you is driving you crazy.

You roll your eyes and turn the vacuum back on. Once you do, he says something too quiet for you to hear since his back is still turned.

You turn off the appliance.

"What?" You ask

"Hmm? Don't know what you're talking about."

You turn the vacuum back on and he does it again.

"Eddie! Quit messing with me."

He finally turns to face you and crowds you. He's closer to you than he's ever been before and you're suddenly unable to make eye contact with him.

"I haven't even begun to mess with you, sugar."

One morning you are folding napkins and arranging silverware while sitting at the counter. Eddie sees you as he's walking by the kitchen window and smiles, he's over the moon that he gets to work with his girl today.

You glance up at him and give a smile and a wave. He gives you a little wave back and ducks out of view. He starts walking back and forth by the window, looking at you from the corner of his eye. When you finally look up, he starts doing that thing people do when they pretend they are going downstairs. You laugh at his silliness and he looks over at you. "Oh, I'm heading downstairs for a bit. You handle the fort while I'm gone, yeah?" You shake your head at him, covering your mouth to try and dampen your laughter. He comes back into view.

"Hey now, don't go hiding your giggles. Why else do you think I go around making an ass of myself if I didn't want to hear them?"

I mentioned to @greenishghostey in the reblogs for the last post that I love idea of you forgetting your lunch one day and Eddie grabs your order pad and pen and says, "Hi! I'm Eddie, I'll be your server today. Can I get you started with any drinks or appetizers? If you're ready to order, the chef recommends the hotcake special." he adds a silly little fancy accent to "hotcake special" because he is ridiculous.

Thank you for reading! 💕

[ghosttotheparty]

love me softly p8

tags from @variousothershit on part seven bc it made me laugh out loud (i think eddie would allow it bc he’s in love)

They dance until the song ends, and the next one begins, swaying with their arms around each other, their hands linked. Steve makes Eddie twirl, and Eddie blushes, his cheeks flushing with heat when he stumbles and Steve giggles.

The next song ends.

Another begins.

There’s noise out in the hall, loud voices singing and laughing, and they keep dancing, hidden away in the dim light of the bedroom.

“We’re so bad at this,” Eddie says, laughing when Steve ducks his head to twirl, their fingers tangled. Steve laughs again, pulling him close, his arm over Eddie’s shoulder.

“We’re doing great,” he says easily.

Their eyes meet. Steve’s are shining in the light, and Eddie falters, gazing at him. He’s so pretty. Eddie wants to say it out loud.

Steve’s lips part like he’s going to say something, and Eddie realises they’ve both fallen still, just standing with their arms around each other, with their fingers still tangled. But before Steve can speak, the door bangs, and they jump apart.

“Someone’s getting laid,” a voice says outside, laughing, and Eddie’s face floods with heat as he glances at Steve, his heart pounding. “There’s probably a room upstairs, come on.”

There’s a moment of silence between them before Steve clears his throat awkwardly, rubbing his cheek.

“Uhm.”

His cheeks are pink, and even in Eddie’s nervousness he feels a rush of something. Not quite satisfaction, but close.

“I should probably…” Steve says, hesitating, gesturing vaguely to the door.

“Yeah,” Eddie says nodding. “Uhm.”

Someone’s getting laid.

His face flushes with heat again, and he moves past Steve to where the tin lunchbox is sitting.

“Here.” He rifles through it, finding a small baggie of weeds and he turns, tossing it to Steve catches it, perplexed. “We can say we were dealing.”

“Oh.” Steve looks at it, his cheeks still pink. “How much?”

Eddie suppresses a smile.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Steve stares at him, his eyes wide and shining, and Eddie tilts his head fondly, shutting the lunchbox.

“…Okay.”

Eddie smiles at him, watching him fidget with it for a moment before he picks up the lunchbox and heads to the door.

“I’ll see you ‘round, Steve.”

“Wait—“

Steve moves forward, catching Eddie’s wrist before he can reach the lock, and Eddie’s eyes widen at the sudden close proximity, glances over Steve’s face.

“Uhm,” Steve hesitates, holding Eddie’s wrist gently. “Do you— Do you wanna, uhm… Come over this weekend?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“You’re inviting me to your palace?” he teases.

Steve scoffs.

“Yeah,” he says. “I like hanging out with you.”

Eddie’s chest hurts. He exhales, and Steve’s fingers are suddenly hot against his skin.

“Okay,” he breathes.

“Saturday?” Steve asks.

“Uh, yeah.” Eddie blinks. “Uh, my— my uncle works nights, and we were gonna have dinner before he leaves. Is it cool if I come over after that?”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly, smiling. “‘S cool.”

“Okay.”

They stare for a moment longer before Steve seems to remember that he’s holding Eddie’s wrist, and he lets go, glancing at their hands.

“I’ll see you then?” Steve asks, and Eddie nods, melting a little bit. He wants to lean in and kiss him.

But he doesn’t.

On Saturday Eddie is riddled with anxiety, pacing and fidgeting as he cleans the trailer. He changes his clothes three times, finally settling on a pair of ripped jeans and an old KILL ‘EM ALL t-shirt, with a few silver chain necklaces and his rings. He ties his hair back after getting annoyed with it brushing and tickling his neck and face.

“The fuck’s goin’ on with you, Eds?” Wayne asks while Eddie is making dinner.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re fidgeting like a sinner in church, boy. What’s going on?”

“Uh.” Eddie sighs, scooping food onto a plate from the pan, his cheeks flushing. “Nothing, really.”

“Mhmm,” Wayne hums dryly, obviously not believing him.

Eddie sits at the table with him, a leg drawn up onto his chair, and he pokes at his food for a moment. Wayne is looking at him as he eats, waiting patiently.

“I’m going to a friend’s place tonight.”

“Gareth?”

“No,” Eddie says, his cheeks flushing, looking up at him across the table. “Uh, his name’s Steve.”

“Steve,” Wayne repeats. “He from school?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

Eddie looks away, back at his food. His cheeks flush again.

“He’s real sweet.”

He takes a bite of his food, glancing up at Wayne, who’s staring at him knowingly.

“That right?” Wayne says gently.

“Mhmm.”

“How’d you meet?”

“Uh, guess we never really met,” Eddie says with his mouth full. “Like, formally.” He pauses to swallow. “But we had detention together a while back and kinda… hung out.”

“Is he nice?”

Eddie suppresses a smile.

“Yeah, he’s real nice. Leaves little drawings in my locker ‘nd shit. It’s cute.”

“You got yourself an artist?”

“He’s not—“ Eddie hesitates, his cheeks hot again. “He’s not mine.”

“You got yourself an artist.”

“Whatever, Wayne.”

Wayne pecks his forehead before he leaves as Eddie is washing up, tells him to have fun and be safe. Eddie just blushes again.

The drive to Steve’s is longer than Eddie remembers. The lights are on when he gets there, over the front door and upstairs, and Eddie hesitates, taking a sharp breath and exhaling slowly before he rings the doorbell.

It takes a few seconds before Steve opens it, looking soft and lovely in a red sweater and a smile, and Eddie melts.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Steve beckons him inside with a head tilt, and Eddie enters, his eyes widening as he looks around.

“Your majesty,” Eddie teases, his hands shoved in the pockets of his unzipped hoodie. Steve scoffs, closing the door.

It’s big inside. The ceilings are a mile away, and there are stairs leading up to it, abstract, expensive-looking paintings lining the wall. Eddie turns in a circle as he follows Steve to the living room, spinning to look around. He catches a glimpse into the kitchen. It’s bright.

“Holy shit?” Eddie says, laughing when he looks around the living room. There’s a conversation pit. Eddie’s never seen one before. “You ever fall in?” he asks, gesturing toward it with a jerk of his chin.

“Oh, yeah. Probably got a fuckin’ head injury when I was little.”

Eddie laughs, scrunching his nose, and Steve smiles at him.

He waits while Eddie looks around, carefully stepping around the pit so he doesn’t fall in. There’s more art on the walls, simple framed abstracts in red and yellow and blue. Eddie’s smile falters, and he searches around, eyeing the mantle under the television, the bookshelf. There aren’t any kinds of family photos anywhere.

“Is it… weird if I say it doesn’t look like anyone lives here?” Eddie asks, finding Steve leaning against a wall.

Steve shrugs, his hands tucked behind his back.

“‘S just me, so… You’re not really too far off.”

Eddie blinks.

“Your parents don’t live here?”

Steve sighs, shrugging again.

“They’re in and out. Usually on business trips or, like, vacation.”

“They don’t take you on vacation?” Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow. Steve just shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t go even if they offered.”

“Jesus.”

“They, uh, started leaving me home when I was a kid,” Steve says. “As soon as I was old enough to use the stove myself.”

Eddie stares at him, his heart splitting a little bit.

“That fucking sucks.”

Steve shrugs.

“Sometimes I forget I even have parents.”

“That’s sad, Steve.”

Steve shrugs again.

“When you were a kid,” Eddie says, complaining, looking around again, imagining a tiny Steve in the conversation out. Drawing with broken crayons. “Do they even know you?”

“Nah,” Steve says softly. “I got secrets.”

Eddie looks at him. There’s an almost mischievous glint in his eye.

“Consider my interest piqued,” Eddie says, and Steve grins before he beckons with a head tilt.

“C’mon.”

Eddie follows him, pausing to kick his shoes off at the door when he notices Steve’s just in mismatched socks, holding onto the railing as they go up the wood stairs. It’s dimmer upstairs as Eddie follows him down the hall.

“Uh.” Steve turns before he opens the door, pointing at Eddie so his finger touches his chest. Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. “Before we go in, you’re not allowed to judge me for the wallpaper.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he smiles hesitantly.

“…Okay?”

“My mom picked it when I was, like, nine, and I’m not allowed to change it.”

“Not judging,” Eddie sweats, holding his hands up in surrender before Steve sighs and opens the door. “Oh my god.”

“What did I say?” Steve says accusingly, but he’s laughing, watching Eddie look around at the horrific plaid walls.

“Not judging, not judging,” Eddie defends himself, hands still raised. “Well, that’s not true, I’m judging your mother.”

“That’s allowed.”

“Okay, good.” He finishes looking around, grinning. There are clothes on the floor and on the desk chair, and books and papers scattered across the desk, and the blankets on his bed are tossed aside messily. “So these secrets I’ve heard about…”

Steve grins, sitting on the edge of his bed. Eddie’s chest tightens. He wants to kiss him.

“Look in the closet.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, moving over the closet, and he opens it slowly, suspiciously, listening to Steve giggle behind him.

When it’s open, his eyes scan over the hanging clothing before they find the bottom of the closet, cluttered with canvases and a shoebox of paint tubes, and a guitar.

Eddie’s eyes widen, and he looks over his shoulder at Steve, who’s watching him shyly, almost nervously.

“Can I?” Eddie asks, reaching down to a canvas, and Steve nods.

“Go ahead.”

Eddie plops onto the ground, eliciting a soft giggle from Steve, and pulls the canvases out of the closet, looking at them, wide-eyed.

Most of them are abstract, but not in the way the paintings in the stairway and the living room are. They’re expressive, loud and passionate and so full of Steve that Eddie forgets the breathe. He looks through them slowly, gazing at every detail, every brushstroke and smudge and speck of paint, setting them aside carefully, gently.

“That one’s you,” Steve says abruptly when Eddie looks at one, and Eddie looks up at him. “It’s, uhm.”

“Explain?” Eddie questions, looking back at the painting. It’s full of dark blues and blacks and soft smudges of white and yellow and red, intense and heavy but somehow calm. At first glance, Eddie thinks it’s the sea.

“I was…” Steve’s cheeks flush red, and he scratches the back of his neck. “I was thinking about you. When I made it. Is that— That’s weird, I— I’m sorry, it’s—“

“It’s not weird, Stevie,” Eddie says gently, his chest aching. “It’s fucking beautiful.”

“Okay,” Steve says softly.

Eddie gazes at the painting for a little while longer, wondering when Steve did it, how long it’s been sitting in the dark of his closet.

“What are you gonna do with them all?” he asks, setting it aside carefully to look at the next.

“Don’t know,” Steve says. “Probably just keep them all there until I move out and get my own place.”

“You should cover every single wall with them,” Eddie says. “When you get a place.”

“You think?”

“Fuck yeah.”

He puts the paintings back as carefully as he can when he finishes looking through them.

“You play guitar?”

“Little bit.”

Eddie grins and picks up the guitar carefully, crawling over to hand it to Steve, who grimaces and takes it.

“Play me something,” Eddie demand, smiling up at him as he sits cross-legged on the floor again, his back to the closet. Steve sighs heavily, sliding his fingers down the frets, and Eddie watches eagerly as he starts to play.

“The Cure?” Eddie asks when Steve stops, grimacing again as he falters.

“Uh, yeah.”

Eddie nods approvingly.

“Is that allowed?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, ‘course. You can like what you like. Metal’s not for everyone.”

“Even if it’s Toto?”

Eddie shrugs, and Steve laughs, raising that eyebrows.

“You liked that song at the party, though.”

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

“It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you…”

“Okay, it wasn’t horrible,” Eddie says, cheeks flushing. Steve cackles almost evilly, looking up at the ceiling and Eddie falls in love a little more. He’d listen to Toto every day if he got to see Steve’s eyes sparkle like this.

“Alright, come on,” Steve says lightly, standing and kicking Eddie gently as Eddie looks up at him from the floor. He puts the guitar back in the closet, but forgets to shut the door.

Steve is different when he’s not at school. Eddie noticed it the first night they spent together, sitting by the quarry in the van, how light he seems when he isn’t surrounded by his douchey friends, how he sits differently, how he breathes differently.

When they sit in the conversation pit to watch a movie, Steve sits with his legs pulled up onto the sofa the same way Eddie does. He has an absent sort of smile gracing his lips, looking vaguely content in a way Eddie’s never seen him before.

Eddie looks away, pressing his lips together and letting his head fall back against the sofa, looking briefly at the ceiling. He’s so fucking beautiful.

They’re both quiet while they watch the movie, and Eddie is barely paying attention, instead focusing on the sound of Steve breathing, and the small distance between them. (Steve moved closer a little while ago, shifted slightly as he set his chin on his knee. Eddie wanted to scream.)

His cheeks flush with warmth when the characters in the movie lock eyes. A boy and a girl, staring intently at each other, the lighting dim and warm. He glances away from the screen at Steve, whose eyes are trained on the movie.

The air feels tight. Like Eddie could cut through it.

The characters kiss after a moment, slowly and gently and lovingly. Eddie’s chest hurts.

“Sometimes I—“ Steve’s voice says quietly, roughly. “I think that isn’t for me.”

Eddie looks at him, eyes wide.

“Kissing?” he says lightly, making Steve scoff. Girls?

“No, just… Romance. I guess.”

Eddie blinks, looking back at the screen. They’re still kissing, arms around each other, the boy’s fingers in her hair.

“Why?” he asks.

Steve sighs and shrugs.

“Nobody’s worked out,” he says. “Feels like they’re all… looking for something I’m not.”

Eddie swallows, biting his lip and picking at the hole in his jeans.

“Maybe you’re… not looking in the right place,” he says softly.

He keeps looking at the screen, watching the boy lift the girl onto a table without pulling away. The girl is smiling.

Steve is quiet for a few seconds before Eddie feels the sofa shift, and Steve’s hand gently touches Eddie’s chin, pulling to make Eddie face him, and before Eddie can even realise how close he is, he’s kissing him.

Eddie gasps, pushing forward to kiss him back briefly before Steve pulls away, holding Eddie’s chin gently. His eyes are wide, reflecting the movie and the soft golden light of the lamp across the room, and Eddie stares at him.

“Woah.”

Steve blinks, his eyes flicking back and forth between Eddie’s.

“Did I misread that?” Steve asks anxiously. His hand is shaking.

“No,” Eddie says sharply, dropping his legs and shifting to face him. “No, no, you— I just— I just wasn’t expecting that, but I—”

“Was it okay?” Steve asks in a small voice. He looks like he might cry.

“Jesus, Steve,” Eddie breathes, reaching up to touch his face, pressing his palm to his soft cheek. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, I…” He shakes his head. He looks at Steve’s lips. He can still feel them on his own.

“Really?”

Steve’s eyes are glistening, and his voice breaks, and Eddie doesn’t want him to cry. He reaches up with his other hand, cradling Steve’s face tenderly, and he nods.

“I have such a fucking crush on you. Christ.”

Steve laughs weakly, hunching his shoulders, and Eddie leans in to kiss him again, squeezing his eyes shut as their mouths crash together, tilting his head and gasping when they part.

“Eddie,” Steve says breathlessly, his eyes still closed, holding Eddie’s face.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers, pushing Steve’s hair back, tracing a line down his neck lightly. “You okay?”

“I’m so okay,” Steve says softly. “I’ve never been this okay.”

Eddie grins at him, leaning in and kissing him softly.

“Can I…” Steve starts, pausing to bite his lip, his cheeks pink.

“What?” Eddie prompts softly, nudging their noses together.

“Can I sit on your lap?”

“Jesus. Yes, come here.”

He pulls at Steve’s hips, and Steve beams, sitting up and swinging a leg over Eddie’s lap so he’s straddling him. Eddie’s heart is pounding in his chest.

“Never thought I’d make it to Heaven,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist, and Steve shakes his head, rolling his eyes.

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Can you blame me?” Eddie asks, sliding a hand over Steve’s back. “Got the prettiest boy in Indiana on my lap.”

Steve’s smile falters. He’s tracing lines over Eddie’s jawline, down his neck.

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks softly, shyly.

Eddie exhales. Gazes up at him. He vaguely hears the movie in the background, but he’s too focussed on the way the soft lighting in the room is making Steve’s stray hair shine like spun gold, on the way his eyes are shining like they’re glass, like he’s a painting that belongs in a museum.

“I think you’re fucking stunning, Stevie,” he says softly. Steve’s cheeks flush pink.

Steve pulls him into a kiss by tugging on his necklaces. Eddie is glad he wore them.

part nine

read the whole thing on ao3

taglist: @dazedandinked @vecnuthy @mareydi @thekingandthejester @michael-the-angelo @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @confusionocturne @three-possums-playing-human @narcissist-era @snailcosworld @axltheedaddy @thing-a-ling