#it's all planned out and can i just say. can i just say that eddie has no inner monologue because he says everything on his mind always | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sebastienlelivre · 2 days ago

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if we make it through december (we'll be fine)

bucktommy | fix-it | 3k words | rated G (ao3 link in the source)

Buck was exhausted, 48 hours covering Christmas Eve and Christmas Day because everyone deserved to have time to spend with their families, and sure, the Buckley-Han-Wilson Christmas Extravaganza had probably been the best party ever, the person Buck had wanted, had planned on spending Christmas with had decided Buck wasn't worth it. But now he was left with four days off after a rough shift and unused, sad-looking Christmas decorations dotting the loft. He dumped his duffle bag at the door and tugged one strand of garland down that he didn't even have the energy to bundle up to be packed away as he dropped it on the island.

Buck pressed his hands against the edges of the island, head bowed, letting the exhaustion seep into him. He could fall asleep standing up, he was that tired, but a knock on the door made him lift his head. His eyes were narrowed in confusion when he went to answer it, Hen and Chim and Bobby were on shift, Eddie was, as far as Buck knew, settling in quite happily in El Paso. There was no one else....

"Oh," he breathed as he looked through the peephole and took an involuntary step back at the sight of Tommy on the other side of the door.

Buck hesitated, just for a moment, before he reached out and opened the door just as Tommy seemed to be stepping away, his expression sad, scared, and just as tired as Buck felt.

"Ev-...Buck," Tommy said, turning, his hands gripping a small, brightly wrapped present.

Buck blinked, frowning, and he greeted in return, "Thomas." Tommy's eyes narrowed at that before shaking his head slightly.

"I. Um. I was working yesterday, but...," Tommy said as he pressed the present in his hands closer to Buck. He exhaled, his shoulders deflating a bit more. He seemed smaller to Buck, his shoulders curved in like it was intentional, and Buck looked down at the present. He shook his head, looking back up at Tommy. "I bought it before...before," and there was a hesitation there, like Tommy couldn't bring himself to actually say what happened.

"Before you blew up our relationship?" Buck supplied, his eyebrows lifting slightly like he was actually helping.

"Yeah, yes," Tommy said, rubbing the back of his neck as he practically breathed the words. He pushed the present at Buck again, but Buck didn't take it. Instead he reached out, his hand grabbing Tommy's wrist and tugging him forward almost through the doorway. Tommy was off balance, and he stumbled, but his hand came up to grip Buck's other arm to steady himself. Once Buck was sure he wasn't going to fall, he pulled Tommy the rest of the way into the apartment, shutting the door behind them both. He took the present from Tommy's hand and set it on the island next to the discarded garland. "Bu-...."

"I'm going to bed," Buck said, cutting off that stupid name from Tommy's mouth, the sound of it still made his skin crawl, and he moved toward the stairs up to his bedroom. "Sleep on the couch, I've got an inflatable mattress in the closet if that would be more comfortable."

"Buck," Tommy protested.

He turned to face him, shaking his head. "When you stop calling me that I'll listen to what you have to say," he explained, "But I've been awake for two days straight, and, I think, you have too?" Buck looked at Tommy until he nodded slightly in agreement. "You are going to be here when I wake up, and we are going to talk."

Tommy exhaled, looking around for a moment before he shook his head. "We'd both be more comfortable if I leave. I'll...I'll come back and we can talk all you want."

"No," Buck said, his voice firm, as moved away from the stairs and toward the coat closet. He pulled out the pillow and the blanket from where they had shoved them after Billy Boils, and he pushed them into Tommy's arms. "If you leave," Buck took a breath that shook before he continued, lifting his chin and trying to steady himself, "Then that's it." He met Tommy's eyes evenly. "If you leave, then don't come back, I won't answer the door." He nodded slightly before turning and trudging up the stairs.

Buck focused on stripping down, on grabbing his own sleeping clothes, and trying not to listen for movement downstairs. He pulled the blankets on his bed back and slid inside, curling on his side with his back to the stairs.

He fell asleep, comforted by the fact that he hadn't heard the door.

The loft was completely silent when Buck woke up. He checked his phone and saw it was just before noon. Barely six hours of sleep, and it wasn't nearly enough. He held his breath, listening closely, and very, very faintly, he heard movement in the lower level. Buck let out that breath, laughing a little, mostly out of relief. He had worried...worried that his ultimatum had been too much, that once again Tommy had decided that he wasn't worth the trouble. He rolled out of bed, heading to the bathroom to pee and wash up before grabbing a hoodie to stave off the cold of the loft. He made his way to the stairs, and sat down half way down as he watched Tommy moving silently through the kitchen.

He was dressed in just his undershirt and his underwear, having stripped off his henley and jeans to sleep, and Buck watched him move around the loft as he felt a happy warmth settle in his belly. He had missed this, missed waking up to this, and the fact that it wasn't his hit him suddenly, his heart clenching and tears stinging at his eyes. He shook his head and pushed himself to his feet moving down to sit at the island.

"You don't have to cook," Buck said finally as he watched Tommy stir the pot.

Buck watched Tommy take a deep breath, not turning around as he said, "What else was I supposed to do? I thought about taking down the decorations, but that's...."

"Not your place," Buck finished, and Tommy turned slightly before nodding just a little. "Probably couldn't do it quietly anyway." Tommy shook his head as he turned and poured Buck a cup of coffee, and he watched in silence as Tommy prepared the coffee exactly how Buck liked it, and the domesticity of that made his heart hurt even more. He placed the cup of coffee in front of Buck just as Buck got to his feet and went back upstairs without a word. Tommy called out his name as a question, the name that set Buck's teeth on edge, but Buck ignored him as he dug around in his dresser for the gift he had bought just after Halloween when he thought things were great, when he thought things were going so well, and he carried it downstairs.

It was unwrapped, still in the white box it had been packed in when he bought it, and he set it down on the island next to the present Tommy had bought. Buck shrugged slightly when Tommy turned and looked down at it in confusion, "You weren't the only one who shops early."

"Evan," Tommy said, the word coming out in a breath.

"So you do remember," Buck replied, and Tommy exhaled at him, shaking his head and turning back to the food. Buck stayed silent, watching the movement of Tommy's muscles as he worked, and finally he broke the silence with, "You didn't give me a chance."

"Buck."

"Thomas." Tommy took a deep breath, turning the stove off as he turned around, leaning back against the counter. "You left, and you didn't give me a chance to respond. I mean, I-I should have followed you. I should have argued. Right then I should have...I should have done something."

"I. I don't know that it would have mattered," Tommy said. His hands were pressed hard against the counter, the knuckles turning white, and Buck wondered if he was having the same difficulty staying away, but that was a pipe dream almost certainly.

"Because you hate me now," Buck said, and he tried to make it seem like a joke, like it was self-deprecating, like it wasn't serious, but that was the truth of the weight that had settled on Buck since Tommy had left. Buck had done something, and now Tommy wanted nothing to do with him.

"I don't hate you, Buck." See? He couldn't even say Buck's name right.

"Thomas," Buck interrupted, and Tommy exhaled at him.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"It's your name, isn't it? Since we're not using nicknames anymore."

Tommy took a deep breath, looking up at Buck and then looking away, shaking his head. "'Buck' is your nickname."

"Yes," Buck said, pointing his finger at Tommy for emphasis. "And you're not supposed to call me that."

"Evan," and once again Tommy breathed his name, and yes, it sounded like Buck was annoying him, but it also sounded fond, and for a moment, Buck just let that warmth, that fondness, settle into him.

"There you go," Buck said, stepping around the island to lean back against it, not quite right in front of Tommy but close.

They stood there in silence for a long moment, and Buck didn't mean to, but his breathing matched Tommy's for several seconds before Tommy finally took a breath to speak. "Your apartment isn't big enough for two, Evan." Buck looked around in confusion, shaking his head, but Tommy held up a hand to cut off any protests. "My place isn't any better, you have an entire life here, I have an entire life there, it wouldn't fit."

"We could have talked it out! We could have discussed what we need two of, what we don't, we could have talked about getting a different place, we could have talked," Buck argued, taking a step forward before forcing himself back to press his back against the island. "But you didn't give me the chance."

"I couldn't." Tommy's smile was sad when he lifted his head to look at Buck.

"I always do this. I-I'm too much, I do too much, I go too fast, except...." Buck took a deep, but shaky breath, before he continued, "I don't actually, I've never been this all in." He moved closer to Tommy and didn't back away this time. "But you...I love you so much that I want everything."

"Evan," Tommy said, but Buck shook his head.

"I want to live with you, I want to get married to you, a-and have kids," Buck waved his hand, laughing as he shook his head, "Adopt kids, but I want a family with you. And I've never...." Buck smiled, breathlessly as he trailed off, "I've never wanted that with anyone. Until you. Not even Abby, just you."

"That's the problem, Evan."

"It's not a problem, Tommy, it's really not."

Tommy rubbed a hand over his face. "It will be." He nodded slightly before he looked down. They fell silent again, Tommy's words hanging between them. "You thanked me for gay marriage, Evan." Tommy shook his head again, looking up at Buck. "I asked Abby to marry me the year that was legalized, I was still too terrified to be myself, and you...." Tommy swallowed deeply, and he offered a very small smile that didn't entirely reach his eyes, "And that moment, you stopped looking at me like I was your boyfriend. You thanked me for legalizing our ability to get married, and you were looking at me like I-I was some kind of gay Yoda."

Buck blinked at him. "I don't know what that means." Tommy looked at him in confusion, and Buck snorted. "Star Wars, right? I fell asleep during the first one so Chim didn't bother with the rest," he explained with a shrug, and then he waved the words away with a hand. "That wasn't...." He looked up at Tommy, and he actually took a step forward and didn't immediately step back. "I was trying to point out that maybe it was too fast, but I wasn't....I was trying to make sure you didn't feel pressured."

"You never pressured me, Evan," Tommy said, finally taking his hands off the counter and stepping forward as well. "But I could see everything very clearly. We would settle in together, and that would be the catch. You would be settling. You would eventually want something else, someone better, and that would break me." Buck opened his mouth to protest. "It would, Evan. I was already in love with you, and the longer it went, the deeper I would fall, and...." Tommy trailed off with a laugh that sounded bitter. "I'm barely making it now."

"You love me too?" That wasn't the important part, and Buck knew that, and the breath Tommy took in response was the only answer he needed. "Do you know what I want? What I really want?" Tommy creased his forehead in confusion, but he nodded in encouragement for Buck to continue. "I want people to stop making decisions for me." He stepped closer to Tommy. "You decide I don't know what I want, Eddie and Hen, even Bobby, they all decide I can't text you, and my own sister says I just need to meet someone special to get my mind off you, but I've already met someone special, someone I want." He looked at Tommy, tilting his head slightly. "It's not settling, not for me."

"Evan."

"I've dated a lot of women, Tommy, and yeah, you're my first boyfriend, but I don't need to date anyone else to know what I feel, what I need, what I want. And that's you, and yeah, maybe in two years or ten, we break up, but I could die on our next call, or your helicopter could crash, or the entire state falls into the ocean and we never get to say goodbye," Buck offered a small smile when he said that, "But I meant what I said. It's better to be together than to ever be apart." Tommy took a step toward Buck again, and Buck moved to meet him, reaching out to take his wrist. "There's always going to be a chance for heartbreak, Tommy, I can't promise otherwise, but it's worth it isn't it? This?" He gestured between the two of them. "Us, we're worth it, yeah?"

Tommy turned his wrist, sliding his hand through Buck's grip until he was clutching his fingers gently. "Evan, there's still....I'm not a good person."

Buck shook his head. "I know how it was before, how you were before with Gerrard, you've become a better person." He used Tommy's hold on his hand to pull Tommy closer to him, close enough he could feel the body heat of him. "We've all got work to do on ourselves."

Tommy turned his head slightly so that his nose nuzzled against Buck's temple. "Are you suggesting couples therapy, Evan?" Buck couldn't really tell if he was joking or not, but he shrugged anyway.

"Maybe," Buck said, lifting his head to nuzzle against Tommy's chin. "Maybe we need to start over." Tommy pulled back to blink at him, and Buck smirked a little. "Hi, I'm Evan Buckley, I've only recently figured out I'm bisexual, and you're really hot," he said, laughter in his voice, and Tommy rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "I still owe you a beer."

That got a laugh out of Tommy finally. "We're not going to Miceli's again."

"I've got pretty good Lakers tickets though, if you're interested, it's on New Year's Eve, so you may already have plans," Buck offered, angling his mouth up to press a kiss to Tommy's jaw.

Tommy took a breath, turning to study Buck for a moment. "No, there's no plans," and Buck smiled at that. "That can't be our first date, though, that's too big."

"You're already cooking for me," Buck offered, and he laughed when Tommy gave him a look. "Dinner, then, tonight. Not Miceli's, there's a new sushi place that opened not far from the station, I've been wanting to try it."

Tommy chewed on his lower lip for a moment before nodding. "Okay. We'll start over." He tugged on Buck's head, moving him just a few inches closer. "We'll go slower this time. We'll actually talk about everything we should have talked about before. We'll even go to therapy, or I will and you can come too if the doctor calls for it?" Tommy lifted his eyebrows in a question, and Buck nodded. "Okay, then," and that got him a bright, happy smile, and Tommy's breath caught at the sight.

"I love you. I should have said that before I asked you to move in, I know, and I'm going to say it as often as I can. I'm saying it now before we go on our first date again so you know that I am in this," Buck said, stepping as close to Tommy as he could, his body pressed against Tommy's. "I will not run, and this time...this time I will chase you if you run."

Tommy looked at him then, just breathing as he reached up and traced a finger over Buck's birthmark and down his cheek, before he nodded. "I will hold you to that," he said as he leaned in and pressed his lips to Buck's, sealing the conversation with a kiss. Buck pressed closer, letting out his breath against Tommy's mouth as he did. He moved back from Tommy then, keeping hold of his hand as he pulled him toward the stairs. "Evan," Tommy protested.

"We both need more sleep," Buck replied. Tommy tried to stay still, but Buck was determined and he tugged Tommy close again. "Just sleep, we'll both keep our clothes on, I swear it."

Tommy huffed a laugh and allowed himself to be pulled forward.

#911 #bucktommy #911 fic #bucktommy fic #my fic!

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thisapplepielife · 3 days ago

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Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

You'll Poke Your Eye Out

Prompt Day 25: Christmas | Word Count: 541 | Rating: T | CW: Lingering Upside Down Trauma, Language | Tags: Future Fic, Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Established Relationship, Christmas at Wayne's, Eating Nuts (Not Like That), Hurt/Comfort

Steve sits on the couch at Wayne's, a large stainless steel bowl in his lap, the nut cracker tool in one hand and metal pick in the other.

Eddie walks by behind the couch, brand new Polaroid camera hanging around his neck. It's been a full morning of Eddie taking pictures of anything and everything, laying the instant pictures out across every flat surface.

"You'll poke your eye out," Eddie says flippantly as he keeps moving.

Well, that's not the plan, but if he does, maybe it'll have been worth it.

Because nothing, nothing, says it is Christmas like the big bowl of partially cracked open pecans on Wayne's coffee table. Steve had never had anything like it in his house while growing up. A big bowl of in-shell nuts, just sitting in the living room? His mother would have never allowed such a thing. The mess that could have even potentially been created would have given her hives.

Steve doesn't know where Wayne gets the nuts, or why they are such an integral part of the Munson family tradition, but he's grown to anticipate them every year.

The first time he'd seen the metal tools, they seemed kind of like medieval torture devices. Eddie had to show him how to use them: Putting the pecan between the metal claws, squeezing until the shell breaks. Then using the pick to dig out the meat. Eat. Rinse, repeat.

Sometimes it's walnuts, but it's usually pecans.

It gives him something to do with his hands, and he prefers that most of the time. He can't just sit still. Idle hands, and all that. Keeping his mind busy, even in this mundane way, is the best thing he's found to keep everything running smoothly. Steve knows Eddie bounced back from his tangle with the Upside Down almost totally unscathed.

Steve didn't.

That's not true. Not totally.

He thought he was fine. The first year, even the second, he'd had no problems at all. But in time it snuck up on him, and knocked him to his knees. Eddie picked him back up, and he's been picking him up ever since.

The physical scars he can deal with just fine, but the mental scars that were hidden away where he couldn't even tend to them fucking suck, and he prefers to keep busy.

So, today, he cracks nuts.

When Eddie finally sits down next to him, Steve starts cracking them for him. One after another, handing over the small slivers of nuts, and occasionally entire halves in perfect condition. He'll be better at it by New Year's. The rust will be shaken off, and he'll be able to crack more without breaking them into small pieces. It just takes time to acclimate, he knows that and accepts it.

It is what it is. Nothing is perfect, definitely not him, and he doesn't expect to be. Not anymore.

At the end of the night, he picks his empty shells out of the bowl, and tosses them in the trash. Eddie runs the Dustbuster around the couch, and it's like Steve never made a mess at all.

Tomorrow, Wayne will have refilled the bowl and Steve will start the process all over again, Eddie at his side.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

Notes: I feel like I often explore Eddie struggling after the events of S4, but what if Steve felt it more? What if Eddie bounced back like a cat using one of his nine lives?

#steddieholidaydrabbles #prompt: christmas #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fan fic #steddie fic #wayne munson #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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cakesunflower · 1 day ago

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lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 18

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

A/N: not gonna lie, i wrote & rewrote this chapter a bunch of times and i'm STILL not sure if i fuck with it completely. hopefully it doesn't suck too bad asjkdrnfjk happy reading (maybe)!!!!

For a couple of long seconds, Isla hears nothing but an insistent ringing in her ears. Every other thought eddies out of her head, the only thing running through her mind being oh, no and how the hell did they find out? Oh so slowly, panic begins to bloom in the middle of her chest and gradually spreads out as her gaze flickers between all of her friends, their hardened expressions suddenly making painful, horrible sense.

How did they find out? How did they find out?

Oh, God. She waited too long, didn’t she? Isla should have told them the truth when she had the chance, because no matter how they found out, she can’t deny it. Denying it now means she can never confess the truth without hurting them more, and her brain searches for the words she can’t find. The cardboard straps of the bag in her hand burns on her fingers, heart pounding like a drum.

“Um, how—” Her throat is hoarse, tight. “Where did—”

“Sarah got a picture,” Cleo says, her tone measured as brown eyes meet Isla’s green. “Of you and Rafe. Kissing. Courtesy of Topper.”

Isla’s heart falls to the pit of her stomach, eyes falling shut in a tense combination of disbelief and defeat. Fucking Topper. Anger brews, but it’s overpowered by the nerves that tighten every part of her. She and Rafe hadn’t been careful. Topper must have seen them in the hallway or something after they ran into him. Her heart is racing even as she wishes for it to calm down—as she wishes for Rafe to be here with her.

Oh, this isn’t how she wanted them to find out. God, when she finally felt like she was ready to tell them the truth, Topper fucking Thorton beats her to it and does it in the most uncouth and fucked up way. Maybe their reactions wouldn’t have been positive ones if Isla was the one to tell them, but at least they would have heard it from her and not from someone who is always looking for ways to hurt them in some way. The desire to punch Topper returns tenfold.

“Look,” Isla starts carefully, eyes opening as she looks at them all. “I was—I was going to tell you about us—”

“Us?” Kie repeats, eyes widening under furrowed eyebrows as she gapes at her. Kie’s arms are crossed, the tension rolling off of her in waves, making Isla’s throat work. “You guys are an us? Are you guys in a relationship?” Isla presses her lips together, and it’s an answer enough. Kie’s shoulders rise and fall, her expression akin to horror. “What the fuck, Isla?”

Suddenly, it was like everything Isla had practiced saying to her friends, all of her reasoning and explanation, vanished. She’s caught so off guard that she can’t remember anything that she planned on telling them, and is instead scrambling to find the right words to make this better, somehow. Even when a voice in the back of her head tells her no soothing word of any kind can soften this blow that has rocked all of her friends.

“It was—it sort of just happened,” she says desperately, forcing the words through her tightened throat as she rests the bag of books and flowers down by her feet. Some of them gape at her, some don’t even look at her. Isla’s palms grow clammy. “We kind of kept running into each other and, I don’t know, one thing led to another and—and—” She exhales roughly, her voice a little meek as she says, “He’s really not as bad as you think.”

“Are you kidding me?” Pope snaps, sitting up straight as he narrows his eyes. JJ tenses up. “Are you forgetting the amount of fights we’ve gotten into with him over the years? I’m pretty sure we all know exactly the kind of person he is.”

Isla tries not to flinch at Pope’s harsh tone and harsher words against her boyfriend. “But you guys haven’t noticed that he hasn’t started anything with you for a while now?” Isla tries helplessly, gaze flickering over them. John B’s jaw clenches as he looks away. “I mean, I know you’ve gotten into it with Topper and Kelce, but Rafe hasn’t gotten into it with you, right?”

She knows she’s right, but none of them agree with her. Kie scoffs, shaking her head as the incredulity remains on her face. “I cannot believe you’re defending him right now. He’s an asshole, Isla!”

“Stop calling him that,” Isla snaps before she can help it, but she doesn’t regret defending him, even when Kie pulls back slightly, blinking in surprise. Isla meets her gaze steadily, chest tightening at the betrayal that flashes across her sister’s face. Swallowing, Isla looks at the girl sitting on the couch. “Sarah, come on. He’s your brother.” Sarah’s gaze flickers, meeting Isla’s, and Isla sees the conflict waging war in her friend’s eyes. “I-I know you’ve seen the change in him, too. He’s different now. He’s different with me—”

“How long?” Isla cuts off at the sound of JJ speaking for the first time, her shoulders tensing as she turns her head to the right to look at him. He turns his own head, ever so slightly, to meet her gaze, and Isla’s heart stops. JJ’s blue eyes have never looked so icy. “How long have you two been together?”

Isla’s heart thunders. Her body feels the weight of everyone’s gazes. She looks to the floor ahead of her, her voice a whisper as she answers, “Two months.”

Someone sucks in a sharp breath in the deathly still silence following Isla’s revelation. She lifts her gaze, forcing herself to look at her friends because she isn’t ashamed of her relationship, even if she is worried about their reactions. John B lets out a rough breath, a sardonic chuckle as he drolls, “Wow.”

Isla takes in a breath. “Look, I’m sorry that you guys found out this way—”

“But you’re not sorry about dating Rafe Cameron?” JJ spits out, turning to finally look at her fully, his expression a combination of disbelief, anger, and the same betrayal mirrored on Kie’s face.

Isla steels herself. “No, I’m not. Come on, guys,” she tries, shaking her head. “You know me. You know I’d never be with someone I genuinely thought wasn’t a good person. But I’ve gotten to know him. I know the kind of guy he is—”

“Oh, barf,” Kie cuts her off with a roll of her eyes, and Isla’s teeth press together tightly. “Are you serious?” She leans forward, arms still crossed and gaze locked with Isla’s. “He’s obviously playing you.”

Isla’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Playing me for what?” she asks. “What the hell does he get out of pretending to be a good person just to date me?”

“Not to date you—he just wants to fuck you,” JJ says tightly, his crude words damn near making Isla flinch as she looks at him in hurt. Cleo purses her lips, but Isla doesn’t miss the disapproving look she throws towards JJ, who promptly ignores her as his narrow eyed gaze remains on Isla. “Maybe he’s just getting some kind of twisted revenge, I don’t know, for Sarah becoming one of us. Maybe—” He takes a step towards Isla, eyes hard and unforgiving. “He’s trying to prove once a Kook, always a Kook.”

The tightness in Isla’s chest intensifies to the point of pain, lips parting slightly as she gapes at JJ, a slight crease in her forehead as his words land like a slap. An angry JJ always knows the right words to say that cause the maximum damage, and making Isla feel like an outsider in her own friend group is a sure fire way of making her feel small. Pressure begins to build behind Isla’s eyes, but she forces the tears back, not letting them gather as she lifts her chin in defiance.

“We all welcomed Sarah with open arms when she and John B started dating,” Isla points out, voice surprisingly steady. She doesn’t want to bring Sarah into this, but she needs to point out their hypocrisy.

“Sarah isn’t Rafe,” John B answers tightly. Next to him, Sarah twists her lips to the side, that confliction still evident in her expression as she looks between Isla and the others. “She’s never thrown a punch at any of us.”

Exasperation and desperation form an ugly combination inside of Isla. “It’s not like you guys are innocent, either!” she exclaims, gesturing to all of the guys. “You guys have started plenty of fights with them for no reason.”

Kie scoffs, leaning back against the wall. “Nice,” she mutters, and Isla’s heart aches fiercely because, God, she had so desperately hoped her sister would be on her side, at least. But she won’t find an ally in Kie, and that fucking hurts.

“What do you want from us, Isla?” Pope asks, frowning up at her. “What’d you expect was going to happen after we found out? Whether we heard it from you or from anyone else?”

“I—” Isla falters breathlessly as she looks at each of their faces. Various degrees of anger, hurt, and disbelief still stare back at her. She knew this wouldn’t be easy, but the tightness in her chest is still uncomfortable. Her voice shakes despite her best efforts as she answers, “I expected you guys to trust me.”

Only Sarah’s expression softens, and maybe Cleo’s, upon hearing Isla’s words. Not the guys’. Not her own sister’s.

“Trust you?” Kie asks, that disbelieving edge creeping back into her voice. “You’ve been secretly dating Rafe behind our backs for months. You can’t talk about trust when you’re the one who broke ours.”

Isla presses her lips together. Despite her pain, she knows Kie has a point. “I was going to tell you when the time was right,” she informs them. “I just—I wasn’t ready for this before. I knew you’d all react this way so I kept putting it off.”

“You knew we’d react this way because you know how fucked this is,” JJ counters. His eyes narrow in contempt, one corner of his mouth peeling back in a sneer. “Out of all the people on this damn island, you chose him? The Goddamn prince of the Kooks?” he scoffs with a shake of his head.

Isla’s throat works, her jaw clenching. “He’s good to me,” she says quietly but firmly.

Pope shakes his head, staring at Isla as if she’s lost her mind. “He’s going to screw you over.”

No, he won’t, she wants to argue. But her gaze sweeps over them all one more time, and Isla knows that she hasn’t gotten through to them. Still, she wants to try. She owes it to Rafe and to their relationship. “He cares about me. He looked out for me before we even got together. He—he helped me when my car broke down. And when the cops showed up at the Boneyard party. And Kie, he—” She looks at her sister, whose eyes have sharpened. “He stepped in at the last party, remember? With Topper. He stopped things from escalating even more. Guys, he’s not as bad as you think, okay? A person can change.”

“You’re delusional,” JJ says sharply, and Isla tries not to flinch.

Sarah sits up, frowning slightly at the blonde. “JJ—”

“No,” he cuts her off, facing Isla with a tightened jaw, arms crossed. His cheeks are flushed slightly, angrily. JJ’s gaze is hard, unrelenting, as he says to Isla, “You need to decide; him or us.”

Isla stills—the whole room stills—as she stares at JJ with widening eyes and parted lips. It feels as though no air is going into her lungs as she chokes, “What?”

“It’s pretty fucking simple,” JJ snaps, Isla’s heart picking up its pace too quickly as she gapes at him. He cannot be serious. This can’t be happening. “You’re either with us or with him. But you can’t have both.” He gestures to Sarah. “She doesn’t have a choice because he’s her brother. But you started dating him—” He practically spits those words out, like they’re poison in his mouth. “Knowing the kind of asshole he is.”

“He’s not an asshole!” Isla argues tightly. “Can we just—please—” She helplessly looks at the others, and Isla knows that she hurt them with this, but pain lances through her at the realization that none of them are outright coming to her defense. It’s gotten so out of hand, so fast, and the panic and dread war inside of her. “You guys know me,” she tries again desperately. “I wouldn’t be with him if I thought he was a bad person. Why can’t we just leave the past in the past?”

“You can’t expect us to suddenly be all buddy-buddy with Rafe,” Kie says, frowning. “He’s never given us a reason to—”

“I’m giving you a reason! Right now!” Isla cuts her off, hand pressing to her chest and feeling her heart thunder against her palm. Her skin is warm from anxiety, cheeks probably flushed from the heat that spreads through her. “He’s been nothing but sweet and kind to me. I’m your sister—your best friend,” she adds, looking at each of them. “My word should be enough.”

JJ shrugs. “I don’t really trust liars.”

Isla’s jaw clenches, throat tight. “JJ,” Sarah chastises, her throat working as she looks around the room. “Look, come on, guys. This is getting a little crazy. I mean, Rafe isn’t some—some monster—”

“Of course you’d defend him; he’s your brother,” Pope scoffs with a roll of his eyes. “But he’s never given any of us a reason to think differently of him,” he adds. His gaze meets Isla’s sharply. “And I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can take your word for it.”

A rough breath escapes Isla, defeat creeping through her like an unwanted shiver. Her word isn’t enough? She knew. . . She knew they would react badly, but this? The pressure returns in her eyes and she drops her gaze to the ground, blinking quickly. Her chest is so tight, it makes it difficult to breathe as the hurt burns through her. To know her friends don’t trust her, that they aren’t willing to hear her out and see things from her perspective. . . Her throat dries, unable to swallow the massive lump formed in the middle of it.

She never thought she would feel like such an outsider amongst her friends. Isla knows she’s always had one foot in each life, Pogue and Kook, sometimes more so than Sarah. It had never been a point of contention before. But this has blown up far more than she thought it would. Maybe she was naive in thinking that they could talk and work things out—

No, no, she wasn’t naive. She had trusted in her friends, in the relationship she had with them all. She had thought that their friendship would be important enough for them to want to see and hear her side of things, to accept her relationship that she already had been hesitant in getting into because of her friends’ reactions. But Rafe. . . He makes her happy. So genuinely happy, in a way she’s never experienced before with anyone else. How can she let that go? How can she let any of them go? Is it selfish of her to want both? She didn’t think so at first, but now. . .

“Him or us, Isla,” JJ’s hard voice breaks through her thoughts, forcing Isla to look up at him. His gaze is still sharp but, God, she sees the subtle hope that swims in those blue eyes. Hope that she picks them over Rafe. It tightens her throat even more.

She gives one slow shake of her head, her voice quiet but defiant as she answers, “I’m not choosing.”

JJ’s jaw works, his chin lifting. Disappointment flashes across his eyes, mixed with surprise, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. He wants her to choose them, but Isla can’t do that, not if it means not having Rafe. In the same way, she can’t just choose Rafe but also lose her friends. She wants both—why can’t she have both? Why does she have to choose? What kind of sick ultimatum is this?

Shrugging, JJ says, “You saying that is an answer enough. Don’t come crying back to us when he fucks you over.”

Silence descends and Isla wonders if they can hear her heart pounding in her chest. Her eyes burn, throat locked, and she’s suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to flee. They won’t listen to her—not like this, not when the truth is a fresh wound. “Okay,” she whispers, clearing her throat after as she steps back towards the door. “Obviously, this has gotten a little out of hand.” An understatement. “We can talk again once we’ve all calmed down.”

JJ and Pope scoff at that and Isla tries not to flinch as her gaze meets Kie’s. Her sister stares at her for a brief moment before turning her head, effectively looking away, and Isla swallows as she opens the door. “Okay,” she mutters again before walking down the steps and away from the house.

Every step she takes away from the Chateau feels heavy, part of Isla wanting to go back and continue the conversation until they’re all on the same page. But hurt blooms through her chest, spreading everywhere else as her nose stings and vision blurs from the onslaught of tears. They way they all talked to her—the tones of their voices and the looks on their faces—was awful. Sure, she and her friends have gotten into arguments in the past, but never like this. They never belittled her before. Never made her feel so small. Her best friends, her own sister, were downright mean, and a breath shudders out of Isla as she quickly wipes away a tear that rolls down her cheek.

“Isla!” She freezes upon Sarah’s voice before turning around, watching as the blonde jogs up to her. Isla sees the paper bag in her hand and bites the inside of her cheek. “You forgot this,” Sarah says, coming to a stop in front of her and holding the bag out.

Isla meets her gaze, sees the way Sarah’s expression softens because no doubt she takes notice of Isla’s red rimmed, glassy eyes. Sarah’s lips turn downwards as Isla takes the bag from her, sniffling because she can’t help it. “Did um—did Rafe buy you the flowers?” Sarah asks haltingly.

Biting her bottom lip, Isla nods. “Yeah, he did,” she answers, unable to help the way the corner of her mouth kicks up slightly.

Some of the unbearable tightness in her chest loosens, just a fraction, when Sarah mirrors the subtle smile. It disappears, though, and her expression falls, a little pleading. “Just give them some time, okay? They’re pretty raw right now. I-I’m sure they’ll come around?”

“You think?” Isla asks. She aims to sound hopeful, but it comes out unconvinced. “Will you?”

Sarah is silent for a beat. “I think what JJ said is unfair. And I think I owe it to you and my brother to not jump to conclusions.” Her hand reaches out, and Isla’s throat works when Sarah takes her hand, squeezing it reassuringly as her soft brown eyes meet Isla’s green. “I’ll talk to them. It’ll be okay, Isla. Just—just give them some time.”

Isla nods a couple of times, appreciative. At least someone is on her side. “What happened in there was fucked up,” she mutters, lips turned downwards. She’s still angry, but right now, she feels more tired than anything else. A little too defeated to focus on the anger.

“It was,” Sarah agrees with a frown. “It went too far. I’ll talk to them.”

“Thanks,” Isla says, squeezing Sarah’s hand.

“Are you—how are you getting home?” Sarah asks.

Isla shrugs. “I’m gonna walk up to the park, I guess. Clear my head a little before heading home.”

Sarah nods, though her forehead creases in worry. Isla is mildly surprised when she pulls her in for a hug, but Isla welcomes it, eyes squeezing shut to keep back the new burn of tears. “I love you. It’ll be okay.”

“I love you, too,” Isla responds, her voice only slightly shaky as she returns the hug and hopes that Sarah is right.

*****

The chain of the swing creaks slowly as Isla sways back and forth gently, her feet scraping against the dirt with every movement. Around her, kids run around and play. In the distance, a group of guys play basketball at the fenced-in court. It’s late afternoon, so the sunlight isn’t so bright, more clouds in view, but Isla’s gaze remains on the ground ahead of her.

You’re either with us or with him. But you can’t have both.

Was she naive to think that she hadn’t expected the ultimatum? Or was it just faith in her friendship with all of them that had her believing that they would be able to talk it out and they would see where she was coming from? Not accept her relationship right away, but it wouldn’t have gone so horribly the way it did.

Now, away from them, Isla no longer holds back the tears that burn her eyes. They roll freely down her cheeks, a breath shuddering out of her as she swipes a hand under her sniffling nose. Her stomach is in knots, tight and painful, as she squeezes her eyes closed to shut out the conversation replaying in her head.

Her sister, her friends—these people she loves and has spent so much of her life with—called her untrustworthy, had practically insinuated that she was crazy for dating Rafe. Her head is at war, knowing where they are coming from, but also hating how everything went down. Isla could barely stick around to continue the conversation, feeling their words beat her into defeat until she has to retreat to collect her thoughts and wits before even thinking about broaching the subject with them again.

And. . . What? If she doesn’t break up with Rafe, will her friends stop talking to her? Has she really committed that big of a fuck up in their eyes? Why can’t they just see it from her eyes? Listen to her? Doesn’t she deserve that much? One relationship is going to be the cause of destroying a handful of friendships?

“Isla.”

A breath catches in her throat at the sound of Rafe’s voice, lifting her head and blinking away her tear blurred vision to see him standing before her. His expression is tight with concern, forehead creased and blue eyes flickering to look at every inch of her as he lowers himself on his knees, his hands on her legs.

“Baby, what happened?” he asks, squeezing her knees as he looks up at her so earnestly.

But Isla stares at him in mild disbelief, drinking in the sight of him as she asks, “How’d you know I was here?”

He rarely, if ever, comes onto this side of the island. He’s only ever been here for the parties at the Boneyard, or when he’s secretly given her rides to John B’s. “Sarah texted me,” he answers, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “She—She told me you told them and it didn’t go well.”

A sad scoff escapes her, sniffling after as she says, “I think that’s an understatement.”

Rafe’s jaw works and she can tell, easily, that he’s pissed off. But he pushes it aside, his voice softening as he takes her hands. “Come on. Let’s sit,” he says, standing up and pulling her off the swing. One hand remains holding hers, while the other grabs the bag of books and flowers, and Isla lets him lead her away from the swingset and to a spot in the park that doesn’t have too many people around.

He sits down at the base of a tree, giving her hand a gentle tug to get her to join him. She settles down numbly, sniffling as she mutters, “God,” quietly under her breath as she wipes away the errant tears from her cheeks.

The trunk of the tree is wide enough for them to sit side by side, his arm pressed to hers as he grits, “I should’ve been there.”

Isla shakes her head. “It might have just made things worse,” she says sadly.

Rafe loosens a rough breath. “How’d they find out? I didn’t ask Sarah.”

Exhaling slowly through her nose, Isla turns to look at him, her expression tightening. “Topper,” she says, making Rafe rear back. “Apparently he caught us at the hotel. Sent a picture of us to them, and God—” Isla leans her head back, looking up at the deep green leaves of the tree. “This was not how I wanted them to find out. He fucking made things worse than they could’ve been.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Rafe mutters, running his fingers through his head as he shakes his head, no doubt wondering about Topper’s Goddamn audacity. “So what—what did your friends say?” he asks carefully, looking at her with his forehead creasing in worry.

Isla’s throat dries as she thinks of their words again, her muscles tightening with the hurt that is still present—and probably will be for a while. She brings her knees up, arms wrapping around her legs after fixing the skirt of her dress. “They. . . They were pissed,” she starts, exhaling slowly as she stares ahead at a group of kids in the distance climbing around on the play set. “They feel like I-I betrayed them, and JJ, he—”

She cuts herself off, lips pursing to keep her lower lip from trembling. Rafe’s hand comes to rest on her back, his touch warm and comforting as he rubs her back reassuringly. It’s much needed, his hand on her, knowing that he’s right there next to her, right where she needs him. “What’d he say, baby?” Rafe asks gently, even as she hears the edge creep into his voice.

Isla swallows the lump in her throat, nose stinging and tears gathering as she blinks them away rapidly. “He wanted me to choose. Between you and them.”

“He—” Rafe exhales sharply and from her peripheral vision, she sees him shaking his head incredulously. “He gave you an ultimatum? That’s—are you kidding me?”

“I wish I was,” Isla murmurs desolately, eyes falling shut briefly. Some tears escape, but she wipes them away as the hurt remains frozen in the center of her chest, uncomfortable and tight. There are some other things JJ said, too, but she doesn’t want to tell Rafe, knowing it will only piss him off more. Or, worse, make him want to confront her friends.

He just wants to fuck you.

You’re delusional.

I don’t really trust liars.

Each word was a slap, still stinging right in her heart. Isla wipes her cheeks again, an elbow resting on her knee and leaning her cheek against her palm. “I told him I wasn’t choosing,” she continues, shrugging one shoulder. “I don’t want to—I can’t,” she shakes her head before turning it to look at Rafe. He’s looking at her with such concern, touched with helplessness and anger, and Isla’s lips tremble as more tears gather. The emotions of the fight fly to the surface, and in Rafe’s presence, she doesn’t try to push them back.

“I knew they wouldn’t be happy, but it just—it got so fucked, so fast,” she breathes out, her words trembling. “They wouldn’t even hear me out. Whatever I said just—it didn’t seem to matter and—and they’re my best friends. And they just. . . Didn’t want to listen. Even Kie—” Isla inhales deeply, trying to steady her breathing, but now that she’s given permission for the tears to come, they won’t stop. Rafe’s hand slides up, cupping the back of her neck comfortingly. “Kie wasn’t even on my side. But Sarah was.” Rafe takes in a breath at that, looking both surprised and relieved, especially when Isla gives a hint of a smile at that. It was probably the only silver lining in all of that shit show. “She said she’d talk to them and I appreciate it but they were—”

She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head as their words echo in her mind. For a moment, she wonders if she’s being too sensitive, if she should have just expected all of this. Isla is at war with herself, fighting between logic and shattered hope and expectations. “They were what, baby?” Rafe quietly asks, his voice so soft it’s painful.

“They were just mean,” she says with a breathless, hollow laugh. And maybe that’s a childish thing to say, but it feels too accurate at this moment. Her friends can be crude and brash, but never mean. No matter what kind of fights and arguments they’ve had in the past, they never made her feel like this. Her friends have never made her feel so alone. “If I stayed, it just would’ve escalated even more and I just—” She shakes her head with a deep breath. “I had to get out of there.”

Rafe squeezes the back of her neck gently, reassuringly. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, frowning as he shakes his head. “Do you—I can talk to them—”

“No,” she cuts him off, straightening. When Rafe purses his lips, unhappy, Isla sighs. “I appreciate it, I really do,” she assures him, sniffling as she puts a hand on his thigh. “But if they’re not going to listen to me, what makes you think they’ll hear you out?” she asks with a sad, knowing smile. “It’s just better to let them be for—”

For how long? Days? Weeks? Is this something they can get over quickly, or will it take time? Isla figures it’s the latter, but the amount of time it’ll take is a mystery. All she can do is hope that they all can come out the other side of this intact.

Rafe lets out a breath, nodding. “What do you need from me?” he asks gently, almost a plea that tightens her chest. There’s an intensity in his eyes and a crease in his forehead that tells her he’s desperate to help, not knowing how, but wanting to nonetheless.

Isla presses her lips together, the corners lifting into a solemn but appreciative smile. “Just need you,” she tells him honestly, watching as his expression softens upon hearing her words before he shifts, winding an arm around her waist, the other going under her knees.

She lets out a breath as he shifts her so she’s sitting sideways on his lap, resting her head against his shoulder as he leans back against the tree and holds her to him, his hand resting on her thigh, fingers against her skin. Isla swipes the back of her hand under her chin when she feels a tear rivulet, throat working. “God, I probably look like a mess,” she mutters, fingers then swiping across her cheeks as she looks up; she definitely has mascara running down her face.

Rafe tilts his head as he moves his hands to cup her face, turning her head to face him. He looks down at her, something flickering across his blue eyes as he no doubt takes in her tear streaked face, his own thumbs swiping along her cheeks. “A beautiful mess,” he corrects, grinning, and Isla knows he both means it and is trying to lighten her mood.

It works, a huff of a laugh escaping her as she rolls her eyes. Shoulders slumping, she says, “I guess we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

Her tone takes a hopeful lilt as Rafe’s hands lower to rest on the sides of her neck. The late afternoon sun peeks through the leaves, bathing him and a spot of sunlight hits his eyes just right, making his blue eyes glimmer prettily. “You sure you wanna be seen with me?” Rafe smirks teasingly, arching one eyebrow. “I have a bit of a reputation.”

Isla breathes out another laugh, arms sliding around his neck and holding him close, her chest pressing to his. She pushes closer to him, the tip of her nose bumping against his as her gaze drops to his lips briefly. “I don’t scare easily,” she murmurs as they share the same breath.

Rafe’s eyes meet hers, flickering down to her lips before lifting again to lock gazes once more. Isla’s heart stutters as he leans closer and captures her lips with his, feeling a new kind of freedom as she earnestly kisses him back without worry of anyone spotting them—or, more accurately, caring if they do. She sighs into the kiss, muscles finally relaxing in relief at the closeness. Rafe’s hold on her is gentle, his fingers threading into her hair as her lips open under his, his tongue sliding in to dance with hers as he angles her head.

When they pull away moments later, Isla settles back against him, head against his shoulder and forehead tucked along his jaw. “I’m sorry about your friends,” he murmurs.

The remorse evident in his tone makes her heart clench. She knows Rafe isn’t crazy about her friends, but he wants to make the effort because he knows how much they mean to her. Isla had been hoping her friends would show the same thoughtfulness. It’s a lot to wrap their heads around, sure, but the conversation didn’t have to take the kind of turn that it did. And even if they did come around, would Isla be able to forgive them for their words?

She sighs. One problem at a time. “You don’t need to apologize,” she tells him truthfully.

Rafe huffs out a breath. “What I need to do is give Topper a piece of my fucking mind,” he mutters, an edge creeping into his voice. When Isla glances at him, she sees the muscle in his sharp jaw working while feeling him tense against her.

“He’s not worth it,” Isla mumbles, even if she doesn’t entirely agree. She just doesn’t want Rafe getting into a fight, though she has no doubt Rafe can easily take Topper.

“It’s ultimately his fault you were crying, so I’m gonna disagree with you on that,” Rafe says, his arms around her tightening a fraction, like he wants to protect her from her own tears.

Isla lets out a gentle laugh. “Gonna defend my honor, Rafe Cameron?”

He turns his head enough to press his lips to her forehead, Isla’s eyes fluttering shut at the gentle contact. “Damn straight; day and night.”

He holds her close, and she believes him.

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earthlyangelbby · 16 hours ago

Text

Truth or Dare

Part 1

4.7k words

CW: lots of flirting/tension, college!Eddie, roomate!Eddie, kissing, fingering, orgasming, premature orgasm, tickling

Summary: After being treated to pizza, wine coolers, and The Princess Bride by Eddie as an attempt to cheer you up after your breakup. You boldly ask to play truth or dare. Silly dares turn into more intense encounters as Eddie and you explore what all the tension is about.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his signature grin flickering to life at your mischievous tone. “This is your night, sweetheart. What rules are we playing with?”

You tilted your head, a spark of confidence lighting up your expression. “Truth or dare. But—” you paused, smirking, “Nothing illegal, and we each get one skip.”

Eddie leaned back against the headboard, taking a swig of his wine cooler like he was settling in for the main event. “Alright, but don’t blame me when you regret making this deal.”

You rolled your eyes, already feeling lighter from the night’s laughter. “You’re stalling. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he answered immediately, the challenge clear in his tone.

You leaned forward, considering him for a moment. “Okay, I dare you to... do your best impression of Westley’s ‘As You Wish’ without sounding like an idiot.”

Eddie sat up dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “I've so got this.” He cleared his throat, adopting an exaggerated posh accent. “As... you... wish,” he said, drawing out each word like he was auditioning for a soap opera.

You burst out laughing, clutching your sides. “Oh my God, that was terrible! Westley would be horrified.”

Eddie grinned, unbothered. “You didn’t say it had to be good. Alright, your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said, settling back into your pillow.

He tapped his chin, clearly debating. “Alright. Be honest when was the exact moment you realized you were too good for Brian?”

Your smile faded briefly, but it wasn’t pain that lingered—it was relief. “Probably when he started canceling plans to meet halfway without a real excuse,” you admitted. “I think I was just holding on to the idea of what we used to be, not what we were.”

Eddie nodded, his gaze steady. “Good answer. And hey, for what it’s worth, he was never on your level anyway.”

“Flattery won’t save you from my next dare,” you shot back, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he said without hesitation.

You grinned. “I dare you to serenade me with the cheesiest love song you can think of. Right now.”

Eddie groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“You asked for this!” you teased, pulling a pillow into your lap.

After a moment of thought, Eddie sat up, cleared his throat, and launched into an off-key rendition of I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic flourishes. His voice cracked on the high notes, and you were doubled over laughing before he even hit the chorus.

“You’re insane,” you managed between giggles.

“And yet,” he said, flopping back onto the bed, “you’re loving every second of it.”

“Fine, maybe I am,” you admitted, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “Okay, your turn.”

“Truth or dare?” he asked, smirking.

“Dare,” you challenged, sitting up straighter.

“Alright, this one is a challenge. Time for the happy dance!” He bolts up.

“You’re so on!” You both get up and do the silliest dances you can think of. Sticking your tongues out, twisting your hips, and doing peace signs, you dance until you both get a little tired. Eddie grabs you, pulling you close and into a sway-like dance. He’s panting from laughing and dancing. “You so win princess buttercup.” He says with a wink and a grin.

“Oh, dread pirate Roberts, thank you for saving me from being so sad with your excellent dance skills!” you snort a real genuine laugh, throwing your head back. He spins you around and bows. He had a way of making everything fun. Both of you make your way back to your bed. You smile, sighing out a breath. “Arg, truth or dare, dread pirate?”

Eddie balances himself on his hands and shakes his hair back before looking at you. “Let’s do a truth this time, buttercup.”

“Have you ever been in love before?” you looked at him so intently searching for the feeling on his face.

Eddie looked off to the side blinking a few times before meeting your gaze. “Yeah. Or at least I think I was. There was a girl who I had an amazing summer with, but she wasn’t from Hawkings, and she went back home. She wanted me to follow her, but I couldn't because too much shit was going on and I didn’t have the money, so we fought over the phone, and that was that.” Eddie sat up crisscrossed in front of you.

Your expression softened, and you touched his hands. “I had no idea, Eddie. I’m so sorry.”

A smile tugged the corner of his lips and he turned his hand over to cup yours. “Sweetheart, that happened years ago. I don't dwell on it anymore. Now truth or dare?”

Your thumb rubbed against his hand absently. “I think I’ll go dare this time Eddie.”

“I dare you to tell me something that you have never told anyone else before.”

Your cheeks tingle in embarrassment. “Okay, but you have to close your eyes, and I’ll whisper it to you.”

A wide grin formed on his face and his eyes lit up. “Oh sweetheart this must be good. I’ll close my eyes I promise.” his eyes squeezed shut.

You shuffled on your knees, leaned over to his ear, and whispered, “While I was at summer camp when I was 15, I wrote these ridiculous, sexy love confessions to my counselor and left them in his bunk secretly. I know they were found because word spreads fast at summer camp. The girl counselors swore it was this one girl counselor and then she was fired because it was so inappropriate. I was so mortified that all the counselors and the camp owner read it. I couldn’t admit to it and you’re the only person besides me that knows the truth.” You leaned back sitting in front of him.

Eddie's mouth is hung open, and their eyes are wide, “Oh my god, your horniness got someone fired. Sweetheart that’s crazy! I have to know what it said.”

“No way Eddie! I can’t say that right now!” you pushed at him. “Now your turn. Truth or dare Munson?”

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in close to your face. “Dare me.”

You smirked, feeling bold. “Alright, Eddie. I dare you to put on my red shorts and walk out wearing just that. They’re in the top right of my closet.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, then narrowed with playful defiance. “Your shorts? The ones that are basically a crime against fabric?”

“That’s the dare. Take it or skip it. You get one skip.” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“As you wish sweetheart,” he said, sauntering toward your closet, “you have no idea what you just started.” he huffed.

He disappeared behind the door, and you could hear the rustling of fabric, followed by a few exaggerated grunts and muttered curses. “These are tiny! I feel like I’m in a speedo!” he yelled.

Eddie emerged from the closet wearing your red running shorts, and the sight nearly knocked you off the bed. You'd seen him shirtless but now you're really looking. His body is covered in tattoos. The shorts were comically tight, the hem barely reaching the tops of his thighs, and the bold color made the entire situation even more absurd. He strutted out like he was on a catwalk, hands on his hips and a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

“Is it all you ever imagined?” " he quipped, twirling for effect.

Your eyes go immediately to his bulge, clutching a pillow to your chest as you try to seem like you aren't staring. You attempt to cover your intrigue with a giggle. “Wow. I mean, Oh my God, Eddie. You look like a camp counselor!” you teased.

“Yeah I heard you like those.” he teased back.

Your heart was pounding a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “I was just saying since those are mine from camp. I was a counselor for a couple of summers.” You stammered around it but seeing him like this made you flustered.

But you can’t help it; you eye him up and down, covering the bottom half of your face with your pillow. That would make him not notice you noticing him right?

Eddie smirked, clearly loving the attention. “Alright, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s your turn.” His grin turned wicked. “I dare you to put on that red lace lingerie in your closet and keep it on for the game.”

Instantly your smile faded, replaced by a stunned look. “What? No way.”

“Fair’s fair, sweetheart. I mean you can always pass,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “You dared me into these bad boys,” he gestured at the shorts, “and I’m keeping them on. So you have to do the same.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, standing and grabbing the hanger from the closet. “You better not laugh.”

“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up three fingers. But the mischievous glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.

A few minutes later, you stepped out in the red lace lingerie, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself. The set was elegant but undeniably sexy, with all delicate straps and sheer panels. It hugged you in your hips and under your bust. You felt completely exposed but were determined not to let Eddie see you squirm.

His reaction was immediate. The smug grin on his face faded, replaced by wide eyes and a rare moment of silence. He blinked, his gaze flickering between your face and the lingerie. “Woah,” he finally muttered, his voice lower than before. “You look… a-amazing.”

Your cheeks burned, but you rolled your eyes to hide your nerves. “You’re just saying that because you dared me, Eds.”

“No, not even close,” he said, his grin slowly returning. “But I think I won.”

You sat back down on the bed, crossing your legs and pretending like this was totally normal. “Alright, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Eddie said immediately, still grinning.

You tilted your head, thinking. “I dare you to go outside and do a lap around the house in those shorts.”

He laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “Nice try, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Pass.”

“Coward,” you teased.

“Call it what you want,” he said with a shrug. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said, keeping your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

He tapped his chin, clearly savoring the moment. “Why’d you agree to wear that? Was it just to win the dare, or… something else?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. The room felt warmer all of a sudden, the air heavier. “Maybe… a little bit of both,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

His grin softened into something warmer, his eyes lingering on yours. “Fair enough.”

Wanting the air to find its way back into your lungs, you inhale and sigh out, “Uh alright….truth or dare”? Your voice is higher than you meant.

Eddie pursed his lips and looked around making it seem like he really thought about it.

“Give me a dare.”

“mmmh- uhh, okay I dare you to go through the process of kissing me without act-”

He interrupts with a big grin, “I got ya, sweetheart.”

Eddie slowly leaned in cupping your face and pushing your hair behind your ear, his gaze never leaving yours, his lips just inches from yours. You could feel the heat from his breath hitting your lips. Which made them feel tingly.

The room seemed to hold its breath as you felt the heat between you intensify, the playful atmosphere shifting into something else entirely. The way his presence made your heart race a little faster, the moment stretched in anticipation.

“Just so you know, I'm a real good kisser,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips brushed so lightly against yours, just a ghost of a touch. It was enough to send a shiver down your spine, and suddenly, all the teasing felt real, too real.

For a moment, time seemed to stop. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you couldn’t decide whether to pull away or lean in closer. His eyes were soft now, and there was something in them, a quiet sincerity mixed with that signature teasing streak, but it was enough to make your pulse spike.

You both stayed there, close enough to feel the heat, but just out of reach. "Eddie..." you whispered, your voice shaking just a little.

He smiled, a little too knowingly, and pulled back and kissed your forehead, his gaze soft but still playful. "Your turn, sweetheart," he said, voice almost too smooth, leaving you breathless and your heart still pounding in your chest.

The air between you was different now, charged with a deeper tension. “Dare!” it came out fast. Your heart beats out of your chest.

Eddie clapped his hands together with a devilish grin, his laughter filling the room. "Here's the dare," he said, his voice low and teasing. "Let me trace my fingers wherever I want, and you have to stay still. I'll stop the moment you say you can't handle it anymore. Sound fair?"

Your eyebrows shot up, heat rushing to your cheeks. "W-wherever you want?" you stammered, your voice faltering under the weight of his gaze. “That's... a bit much, don't you think?"

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. "Only if you overthink it," he said with a wink. "What's the matter? Scared you can't handle a little tickling?"

You huffed out a breath, pushing down the nervous flutter in your chest. Feeling emboldened, you crossed your arms. "I'm not scared of being tickled, Eddie. Do your worst."

His grin widened, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. He leaned forward, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with the gentlest touch.

"Good," he murmured. "Just lay back for me. Close your eyes and trust me."

You lay back hesitantly, but his steady presence made you feel safer than you'd expected. When his fingers glide lightly over your collarbones, an involuntary shiver rippled through you. The sensation was electric, subtle, and far more intense than you'd

anticipated.

"Reacting already?” Eddie said, his voice low and amused.

You twitched slightly, unable to suppress your body's reaction, but you bit back a reply. His fingers moved deliberately, trailing up the sides of your neck and across your shoulders. The touch was maddeningly light, and every nerve seemed to awaken under his hands.

"You're holding up better than I thought," he mused, his tone a mixture of teasing and admiration. "But how much more can you take this? Getting to be too much, sweetheart?"

You scoffed, tilting your chin defiantly. "I can handle it," you said, though your voice betrayed the slightest tremor. His grin turned almost predatory as his fingers drifted down your arms, tracing the delicate lines of your wrist and elbow. The strokes were slow and deliberate, lulling and igniting you at the same time. When your eyes fluttered open, you caught him watching you, his expression softer but still filled with an intense focus. "Most people would've given up by now,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I think you actually like it."

Your throat tightened, and you

swallowed hard, your words catching in your throat. "You're not... done yet, are you?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he shifted closer, lying on his side as his hand rested lightly on your ribs. "Not if you don't want me to be," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

The words left your lips before you could stop them. "I don't want you to stop," you admitted, your gaze locking with his. "I dare you to keep going."

"As you wish sweetheart," Eddie murmured, his grin deepening. His fingers continued their exploration, tracing down your ribs to your stomach. The touches were light, deliberate, and agonizingly slow, stopping just above the waistband of your panties before gliding back up. A soft moan escaped you, unbidden, and your body reacted instinctively, your breath hitching as your nipples hardened against the fabric of your bra. "I knew you liked it," he teased, his voice laced with triumph.

His fingers traveled lower, ghosting along the curve of your hips, down your thighs, and slowly inwards. The teasing lightness of his touch made your body jerk involuntarily, the tension building with every motion. His fingers brushed faintly over your mound, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips, and he stilled for a moment, his gaze meeting yours again.

"I don't want to rush this," he said, his voice husky and filled with want. "I'm going to kiss you now. Is that okay?"

Your heart raced as you nodded, your voice coming out in a desperate whisper. "Please."

He leaned in, studying your face as if committing every detail to memory. His hand cupped your jaw, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin as he closed the gap between you. Eddie’s lips brushed against yours, his kiss soft but deliberate, testing your response. His hand moved slowly, tracing the curve of your waist, and the sensation sent a shiver through you. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours as his dark eyes searched your face.

He is a good kisser.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice steady but hinting with something vulnerable, like he needed to hear your answer.

You nodded, your breath catching as his thumb brushed a slow circle against your hip. “I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice wavered slightly. “Better than fine.”

His grin returned, small but genuine, and his hand resumed its gentle exploration

His lips met yours in a kiss that was wild and unrestrained, a sharp contrast to the gentleness of his touch earlier. The taste of him-faintly sweet from the wine coolers with a lingering hint of smoke-flooded your senses. His tongue brushed against yours, and you welcomed it, your breaths mingling as the kiss deepened. His other hand continued its slow exploration, tracing along the seam of your panties and then up your abdomen, skimming the edge of your bra. You break the kiss for a moment, voice sultry "Are you trying to drive me crazy?" you tease, your eyes dancing with mischief. He smirks, the corner of his mouth curving upward, his breath warm against your skin.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he replies, that same playful glint in his eyes. You can feel the heat radiating between you, igniting a fire that is impossible to ignore.

He leans in again, capturing your lips with his, the kiss pulling you deeper into the moment. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling as you pull him closer, wanting to lose yourself in him entirely.

Slowly, he pulls back, his gaze searching yours, a mix of desire and tenderness shining through. "Tell me what you want," he murmurs, his voice low and inviting. You can feel your heart racing, anticipation and excitement swirling within you as you consider how to respond.

“I want you Eddie,” you whisper. His eyes widen slightly at your boldness and he grins down at you.

He laughs not at you directly but at how suddenly shy you have gotten. “I want you too. I really do. Just tell me if you want to stop at any point. Alright, sweetheart?”

You nod up at him looking into his eyes. “Mmhmm.” Your heart raced. His words, “I want to feel everything, Eddie.” You brushed your fingers against his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingertips. “I want to feel you.”

Eddie‘s expression shifted, the teasing glint in his 5 fingers are now more firm, rubbing circles at your opening through the fabric. “Tell me what you want or I’ll stop,” he murmured

“Take them off. I wanna feel you!” you cried out. He grabbed the hem on each side and pulled them off of you much less gently than with your bra. Returning his fingers to your slit and finding your sensitive clit. With his other hand working at your opening. He pushed two fingers into you. It felt so good to finally have his hands on you like this. He worked his fingers nice and slow while his other hand focused on your clit. Your body reacted with little jerks.

“Like that? Is that what you wanted? Is that what you like?” he grunted out.

You breathed out little whimpers and moans, trying to find words to say back to him, and finally, you stuttered out. “Yes! Just like that” you arched and tightened.

“God you're so tight around my fingers”

He curled his fingers inside you and found the spot. He pressed into it and rubbed circles on your clit. The static inside you was growing even more. “I like the way your body jerks under my touch.” Eddie leaned down in between your legs and started licking swipes on your clit. His fingers pumped into you slow and deep. The static is all-consuming in your body. You can feel it even down in your toes.

“You’re so good” is all you can say.

Eddie's pace quickened at your words, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm with the static building in you. He looked up for a moment, locking eyes with you as if he wanted to drink in every detail of your pleasure. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, the vibration sending another shiver down your spine. “Let it go.”

Your body was already responding, the pressure coiling tighter within you as you held onto the sheets. “Let it happen,” he encouraged, his eyes dark and full of desire as he worked you through your climax. You cried out, the sound of your voice mixing with his groans of appreciation as your body seized and tightened around his fingers. Stars exploded behind your eyelids, and the world around you melted away.

As Eddie continued to work his fingers inside you, the warmth and wetness enveloped him. It sparked something deep within him it was a mix of desire and pleasure that was almost overwhelming. Your body responded to his every movement, tightening around his fingers as the waves of your high pulsed, and it ignited a fire inside him that he hadn’t anticipated. “Eddie! Feels so good Eddieee. You're so good! Please don’t stop” you begged.

“Oh, God,” he breathed, his voice strained with effort. “You’re so—so tight.” The way you surrendered to pleasure was intoxicating, and the sight of your bliss brought him dangerously close to the edge of his control.

When your body began to tremble and your breath hitched, Eddie felt the pressure coiling within him, nearly overwhelming as your walls clenched around his fingers. “Please. Please, don’t stop,” you gasped, driving him wild with need.

“I won't,” he gasped out, his heart racing. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your skin, savoring every second of this moment as his fingers continued finally finding the perfect rhythm. But the combination of your moans and the way you tightened around him was becoming too much.

“I’m cumming! Oh god! Eddie I’m-“ you broke off into moans grinding back down onto his fingers, he felt it…the wave of pleasure crashing over you, and in the tide of your release, he lost control too.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie gasped, his own body responding involuntarily. A pulse of heat shot through him, and he felt himself teetering dangerously close to the edge. He was still seated between your legs, his fingers buried deep inside you, and the sensations were so intense that he couldn’t hold back. Without warning, he found himself succumbing as waves of pleasure washed over him too.

His fingers stilled inside you, but the sensation of your body still clenching around him sent shockwaves of pleasure cascading through him. “Oh, damn it!” he exclaimed, the pleasure mingling with surprise as he felt himself spill over, his body trembling from the intensity of it all.

You opened your eyes wide, your high fading momentarily as Eddie’s reaction hit you. “Eddie?!”

He cursed under his breath, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering bliss. “I—I didn’t mean to! You just felt so good, and…”

“Did seeing me really make you?” You cut him off, intrigued.

He met your eyes with a soft smile, “Honestly? Yeah,” Eddie said, voice low and sincere. “Seeing you like that, feeling you, hearing you… it was something else.”

“I- just haven't ever really felt like I was sexy like that. Like the type of sexy to make a guy cum without touching him. That’s like reserved for ultra ethereal beauties.” Your cheeks burned.

Eddie leans in slightly, “Well, maybe I think you’re an ultra ethereal beauty.”

You chuckled, the warmth of his compliment mixing with your lingering embarrassment. “I honestly didn't expect any of this but I'm glad it happened”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Believe me, I definitely didn’t expect this to happen. I mean, I’ve been trying not to trip over my words around you for months, and here I am, making a spectacle of myself.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his candidness. “At least I wasn’t the only one surprised then. It’s kind of funny, honestly. We’ve been roommates for a year, and I didn’t think we’d ever cross this line.”

He leaned back, slightly bashful, and you could see that familiar pink hue still lingering on his cheeks. “Yeah, but seriously, that was… wow. I didn’t know just looking at you could do that. There’s definitely something about you.”

With a teasing roll of your eyes, you nudged him playfully. “Well, I guess all those times I walked around in my pajamas and you casually told me I looked nice. I guess that wasn’t just roommate kindness, huh?”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, you caught me. I might have had more than a few moments where I thought, ‘Wow, my roommate is hot.’ But I didn’t want to make things weird. I mean you had a boyfriend.”

Your heart fluttered at his admission. “Wait, so you actually think I’m cute?”

“Cute? You’re more than cute. You’re absolutely captivating,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “And honestly, after tonight, I kind of want to see where this goes beyond just being roommates.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you sensed the tension between you shifting into something softer yet full of potential. “You really mean that?”

“Yeah, I do,” he confessed, his gaze steady on yours. “I’d love to take you out on a proper date. We can still have all the fun we just had, trust me I had lots of fun. I learned a lot about you. But I wanna know more.”

You felt a rush of warmth inside, excitement bubbling as you processed his offer. “That sounds… amazing. I’d really like that.”

Eddie smiled back, relief evident on his face. “Good. Because I’m still kind of embarrassed about everything, but I’m really happy it happened.”

“Same,” you admitted, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I didn’t think I could feel that way, let alone with you, of all people.”

“Yeah? It feels kind of unreal, doesn’t it?” He laughed softly, the tension easing as you both began to gather your clothes. “But I’m glad it happened. Just… wow.”

As you both started to clean up, playful banter filled the air between you, your laughter echoing around the room while you both recounted some of the sillier dares and the ones that shook you to your cores. Once you finished freshening up and were back in cozy pajamas.

Eddie grabbed at your hand pulling you into his room and you followed without question. “Since we kinda messed up all of your sheets, do you wanna sleep in my room with me? We can plan that date out before we fall asleep,” Eddie looked down at you sweetly.

Your heart felt fuzzy. “I'd love too Eddie”

You both slipped under the blankets. Eddie laid on his back and lifted his arm up inviting you to cuddle. You shuffled over to him and laid your head on his chest. As he ran his fingers through your hair he whispered

“I thought about our date and I want to take you to the Planetarium?” His heart beating out of his chest.

“That sounds perfect Eddie” you could hear his heart steady. “Goodnight”

“Goodnight buttercup,” Eddie murmured.

Tag list: @avalon-wolf

#dividers by adornedwithlight #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #Earthlyangelbby writes

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ch1zzie · 7 months ago

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Forgot to post this here butttt

Working on a welcome home animation and mighttttt take me a while

#the idea is just wally getting the barnaby plush and thats kinda it #i did plan this before when i ordered the wally plush (sep 8 2023) but didnt have the motivation and stuff for it #its inspired by the image of wally peaking out of homes side window with the text below “there he is!” not sure if its wally saying it #either wally noticed someone or someone noticed him but anyway #i saw that image and was thinking to make an animation of it instead of the “there he is!” text its going to say “he's here.”#i also realized i might need to voice that only line or even make sounds for the background😭#i already was close to finishing background 2 (where eddie will be seen walking to wallys house) but my tablet died #grrrrrr #also unrelated but i wrote in my book todayyy (i never write at all) but hey its kinda fun to write my ideas huahahahaah #i plan on doing some research on welcome home and write it down (maybe even some theories hmm??) also doing research on the characters #just to try to get to know them more (cuz i have been crazy for them for AGES and still feel like i haven't done enough)#oh yeah CALL ME CRAZYYY butttt since the irl world sucks i plan on making little writings like im IN welcome home just because idk #more explaining and better ones on my tiktok vid description (user in my bio)#also i feel like things might be getting better for me cuz wowie i never thought id be animating again #but now all this motivation...so many ideas appearing...need to focus on one at a time...darn #HEY! 12 days till a break from the evil cell of educational purposes??? (school) FINALLY PURE HEAVEN I CAN BE FREE WITHOUT SUFFERING #welcome home #partycoffin #wally darling #welcome home arg #welcome home fanart #welcome home wally #7 backgrounds left to do...then ill have to animate...oh evilllll so evillll

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queerdiazs · 1 year ago

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wip wednesday ♥️

happy wednesday friends <3 i was tagged by @wikiangela, @exhuastedpigeon, and @rogerzsteven to share something so thank u all mwah

this is from eddie vs the hoa because he and buck made a pallet of blanket in the living room floor to sleep on and i think it was cute so please enjoy 🫶🏼

“I know,” Buck says, a little drowsy. And he does know—Eddie’s told him everything. There’s no secrets between them. “It’s big enough for you and Chris to grow in.” “I think it could be a forever home.” It’s a whisper because anything louder might disrupt the moment. “Mine and my son’s and yours, too.” Buck blinks, slow and sleepy. He’s less than five minutes from falling asleep; he worked so hard today. He deserves to rest. “Mine?” he repeats, voice pitched high like he doesn’t quite believe it. Eddie’ll make him. “Yours.” He reaches out, picks at a dark eyelash resting on Buck’s cheek, and holds the tip of his finger near Buck’s mouth. “Make a wish.” Buck’s eyes cross, twin blobs of blue in the flickering light of the laptop screen, and he puckers his lips to blow a bit of cool air. The eyelash drifts off somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder, but he doesn’t care to know because the color of Buck’s eyes is the same shade of blue the sky was the night he stayed up with his abuelo. “What’d you wish for?” Buck chuckles. “If I tell you, it won’t come true.” Eddie hums. “I’ll make it come true,” he swears, and he thinks Buck’s cheeks tint red, but it might just be from the light of the laptop screen.

no pressure tagging @honestlydarkprincess, @giddyupbuck, @eowon, @eddiediaztho, @wildlife4life, @watchyourbuck, @thewolvesof1998, @alyxmastershipper, @jeeyuns, @fortheloveofbuddie, @hippolotamus, @ladydorian05, @callmenewbie, @nmcggg, and anybody else who wants to share something!

#if anybody's wondering we're over 15k in and no eddie's not anywhere close to realizing he is in fact head over ass in love with buck #it's all planned out and can i just say. can i just say that eddie has no inner monologue because he says everything on his mind always #and yeah yeah whatever buck's being a doll and mowing his yard before he gets ANOTHER ticket but does he have to do it shirtless #does he have to draw a whole crowd of people that eddie has to chase off because what the fuck #eddie's got groceries in the backseat he can't be arguing with his neighbors ogling buck #because if his ice cream melts he's going to throw a big fucking fit #he's waited mONTHS for the store to get lavender honey back in stock goddammit and if his nosy neighbors don't let him enjoy it #he'll have a fit #and it's all buck's fault really like why is he mowing SHIRTLESS #buck don't you know that's going to irritate your skin #BUCK DON'T YOU KNOW YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO SHOWER BEFORE YOU GO HOME #might as well not go home at that point #that's what your room is for buck just stay the night #matter of fact just stay forever #platonically tho #anyway #tag games

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littlegreen · 3 months ago

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buck coming out to eddie scene is crazy work actually. eddie comes over like buck i need to stay here in your zero bedroom apartment with no couch for the next couple of days so i can Not have sex with my girlfriend. and buck says. eddie this all seems very unfortunate for you. for unrelated reasons i have to tell you now that i’m bisexual. and eddie’s like. wow that is so awesome for you buck. this changes nothing, you’ll always be my bestfriendcoworker. i need you to know this. and buck says wow. eddie i’m so relieved to hear that. even though he, in truth, is not relieved to hear this at all. and then eddie makes it worse and is like buck you should call that guy. i really want you to do that. even though he, in truth, did not want buck to do that at all. and buck, who was actually not planning to call that guy, is trapped now because eddie told him to do something and he’s under a magic spell that makes him do whatever eddie says. and eddie, who came to bucks apartment to do emotional infidelity in the first place, is also trapped. because well. he can’t just break up with his girlfriend now. that would look Insane.

#stvc:#911 abc #buddie #q #1k

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cheer-nympho · 1 month ago

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Imagine Eddie and Chrissy accidentally running into each other while spying on scoops,

Eddie sat on a bench behind a shrubbery looking through but he spots Chrissy doing the same across the court- they stare at each other for what feels like the longest few seconds of all time, shocked and baffled, before Eddie ducks and stealth runs to her bench,

Just sitting next to her and loudly whispering “What are you doing?!”

“What am I doing? What are you doing!”

“Well, I was just..-“ They hear a giggle from scoops and both duck under the plant and look through the gaps again. Immediately they turn back on each other with their fingers raised “You’re spying!” They both whisper at the same time before looking around to check no one heard,

Eddie puts his arm around her to duck her down away from the stores view and from anyone looking over- because their duo is bound to turn heads even without the whole hiding in foliage thing.

“Okay okay, we’re both spying on scoops. Now I’m sure neither of us are here for the overpriced sundaes, so what are you looking at PomPom?”

“PomPom?”

“Codename, keep up.”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me.”

“Well I’ll tell you if you tell me…”

“Well I’ll…Eddie this is silly!”

“Okay fine! So we’re both spying on scoops. Neither of us are here with our friends…we’re being secretive instead of just going in…we’re both 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 why we’re here. Chrissy, U think we’re here for similar reasons, I think there’s a reason we don’t wanna tell each other.”

“But what if- What if it not the same reason? What if you…freak out or get spooked?”

“How about this, if I promise not to be annoyed by what you say- you promise the same back?” She looks around the food court a few times before looking back at him determined and nodding.

“Okay, 3, 2, 1”

Then at the same time…

“I was spying on Robin!” / “I was checking out Steve!”

Followed by

“The hair Harrington?!” / “From band?!”

Chrissy levels him with an unimpressed look, to which Eddie sheepishly removes his arm from hers. “Okay fair, mine is weirder.”

Cut to Eddie having a clever (read: incredibly dumb) plan of going in together so they can talk to Robin and Steve without ‘arousing suspicion’ Chrissy finds herself full of new confidence so doesn’t feel like pointing out that it was more subtle if they just went in alone.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #buckingham #fic prompt #fic #mini fic #my writing #lgbt #theyre both stupid and i love them #What could have been

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withthewerewolves · 10 days ago

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My personal favorite buddie proposal idea is that Eddie sidles into a storage closet at the station one day while Buck is doing inventory and asks "hey can I talk to you as my best friend instead of as the love of my life?"

And once Buck is done having heart palpitations (love of his life! best friend!) he's like "yeah of course" and even sets aside his clipboard so he can give Eddie his full attention

And Eddie gives him a shy/smug little look because he knows what he's doing and says "so I've decided to propose to my boyfriend-" he gives Buck a second to start thinking in full sentences again (boyfriend! that's me! propose! marriage! forever! choosing me forever!) before finishing "-and I was hoping that, as my best friend, you'd come ring shopping with me"

And Buck manages to say "yeah - I'd - I'd love to" and he means the ring shopping but he also kind of means the proposal and they both know it and they spend the rest of the shift barely meeting each other's eyes and then looking away to smile and giggle like teenagers

And they do go ring shopping and they pick out something Buck really likes while pretending very seriously that Buck and Eddie's future fiancé are not the same person

But THEN, before Eddie has a chance to actually propose (he has PLANS), Buck gets him alone at the station and is all "hey, so, can I ask something as your best friend instead of as the love of your life?"

And Eddie is like this sounds familiar but he's also having heart palpitations because he's just as gone on Buck as Buck is on him, so he says "yes of course"

And Buck is like "I think my boyfriend is going to propose, and when I say yes I want to have a ring for him-" he gives Eddie a second to be able to form thoughts beyond he's going to say yes!!!! even though he KNEW he was going to say yes, before continuing "-so I was hoping my best friend would help me pick one out"

And Eddie feels a little drunk (is this what Buck felt when he did this to him?) but he says "I'd love to, yeah" and they spend the rest of the shift not getting farther than a foot away from each other and smiling down at whatever they're pretending to be working on

So they go ring shopping again. They get the same salesperson, and pretend very seriously that this is a return favor for Buck helping Eddie last week, and that they're definitely marrying different people, they're just here as each other's best friend

And Buck carries the ring they picked out for Eddie around in his pocket until Eddie proposes because he wants to be ready, and it takes a couple weeks for Eddie to get it all set up and they both feel electrified the whole time

I don't know how Eddie eventually proposes, but Buck loves it and cries and says yes and gives Eddie his ring, and all their friends are very happy for them while also thinking how insufferable they are

And then they live happily ever after

#911 #buddie #my thoughts

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lovebugism · 2 months ago

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Kissing eddie just as you’re both about to get out of the car and now he’s got a problem cause he’s hard, and all your friends are waiting for you and you’re both a little late and Eddie we really gotta hurry up! what’s the issue? and the poor boy is bright red to his neck over how gone he is on you

ty for requesting :D ps: i'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure over this prompt –– when eddie's about to leave for a show, you make sure he knows exactly what he's missing out on (established relationship, st4 canon divergence, allusions to smut 18+ | 1k)

“How do I look?” Eddie wonders aloud as you trail down the creaking porch steps behind him. He plants his feet on the gravel driveway and spins on the heel of his sneaker to face you –– already bare-faced and clad in your pretty PJs for the night, a striking contrast to the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin standing before you.

You pause on the second-to-last step and reach for his face. Eddie leans instinctively into your warm touch as you swipe your thumbs under his eyes, gently smudging his dark liner a bit more.

“Like a rockstar,” you answer with a proud smile.

Eddie scrunches his nose sheepishly in response, ‘cause he has nowhere to hide with you cradling his blushing face like this. He’s still not immune to the way you look at him, even after all this time. “You’re just sayin’ that,” he mumbles, kicking a lone rock with the toe of his show.

You hum in agreement as your hands fall from his face. “Yeah. ‘Cause it’s true.”

“To you, maybe,” Eddie scoffs, trying hard to ignore the pang of anxiety in his chest. “No one else seems to think so.”

He never used to be nervous performing before Vecna tried to kill him. It was the world that was scared of Eddie Munson, not the other way around –– until it nearly ended, anyway. Now, just leaving the house is enough to induce a panic attack. A part of him is always distantly fearful that a stranger’s face will turn out to be the dark wizard’s, back to life and hiding in plain sight again.

“Hey,” you scold, only partially playful. “I think the crowd of five drunks who watch you perform every Tuesday would agree with me.”

Despite the ice-cold apprehension making his limbs feel numb, Eddie manages a breathy chuckle. “You’re right. We could bomb, and they’d still act like we were playing Madison Square Garden or something.”

You soften then, as though sensing his worry. “You’re not gonna bomb, Eds. You guys are gonna do great. Just like always.”

“Sure you can’t come?” Eddie wonders quietly, blinking up at you with a pair of chocolate button eyes that are hard to say no to.

“You know I can’t… I have an early morning tomorrow,” you coo sympathetically, fighting back a smile when the boy’s rosy bottom lip juts in a pout. “But I’ll be right here when you get back, okay? And I’ll make sure to heat up dinner when you’re on your way. So you have something to soak up the alcohol and adrenaline with.”

You tilt your cheek to your shoulder, squinting suspiciously when Eddie’s frown curls into a cheeky grin. He reaches for you with a pair of ringed hangs and squeezes at your clothed hips. “Just like a good little housewife, huh?” he croons mischievously.

You roll your eyes at him ‘cause you’re not a housewife by any means.

You live in a trailer with his uncle, for one. And you work five days a week, for another. Besides, you’re not even his wife, which you think is usually the first step. (You have no idea Eddie’s already picked a ring out for you. Or that he plans on keeping that a secret until he plays enough shows to afford a house).

You decide to humor him, anyway.

“Sure,” you monotone with a slow nod.

Eddie’s grin widens.

“C’mon on, Munson! We’re gonna be late!” Jeff lisps from the passenger side window of the van. The rusted tin can is parked a ways down the drive, packed to the brim with all their band equipment like a perfect game of Tetris.

You lean forward to press a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“Wear that dress I like when I get back?” Eddie murmurs lowly.

You hum with your lips pursed to the side of your mouth, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm… I was kinda thinkin’ about wearing nothing, actually,” you answer, shrugging innocently. “You know, for easy access and whatnot.”

Eddie warms all over. His wild head starts to swim at the visual –– one he’s seen a hundred times before that he’s not quiet sure he’ll ever get over. “Have mercy…” the boy mumbles under his breath.

“Just try not to think about it too much while you’re gone…” you lilt knowingly, smoothing both your hands up and over the lapels of his leather jacket. “All alone… Naked in our bed… Trying to get myself off while I wait for you…”

Eddie stares at you with heavy, lidded eyes. He can’t take the chocolates of them off your lips as they curl into a mischievous, tightlipped smile. “How ‘bout I just stay home?” he offers lowly.

A resounding honk blares from the van in a wordless answer.

Gareth leans out the driver’s side window, face screwed and sandy curls wild. “C’mon, Eddie!” the boy yells like an impatient younger brother. “Put your dick in your pants already so we can go!”

Eddie’s head swivels back to face you again, chest deflating with a grieving sigh.

“You have to go,” you tell him, soft and sympathetic, as you press another kiss to his pout. “Have fun, honey,” you croon and step back from him –– knowing exactly what you’re doing as you trek back up the wobbly wooden porch steps.

Before you shut the front door behind you, you flash the boy a curt wave and a pretty smile. It takes a world of strength to keep from following behind you.

In a perfect world, Eddie would already have the door bolted shut with you pressed against it by now. He’d have your oversized shirt balled up at your ribs and your shorts pulled down to your ankles and his mouth licking over your pretty cotton panties.

He shakes his head in a physical attempt to remove the sinful thoughts from his brain as he stalks back to the van. He keeps his head bowed as he goes, trying to hide his reddened cheeks behind his wild curls. Gareth watches from the window as Eddie tugs at the crotch of his jeans, trying to un-strangle his hard cock like a teenager.

The boy leans between the front seats as Eddie climbs into the driver’s side, slamming the screeching door shut behind him. “You’re pathetic,” Gareth teases through a fit of boyish laughter.

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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sp0o0kylights · 3 months ago

Text

“Dustin isn’t coming.”

“What?” Eddie says, all frantic and jovial movements freezing instantly.

His eyes narrow on Lucas--the bearer of bad news. “Why?”

“Family emergency.”

Mike makes a face. “I saw his mom yesterday and she was fine, so is this a…?”

He makes a gesture that is entirely incomprehensible to anyone who isn’t Sinclair and his terrifying girlfriend.

(At least, Eddie thinks Max is Lucas’s girlfriend this week. It got a little hard to keep up after the third break-up-make-up marathon, and he frankly, stopped bothering to try.

It helped that she barely spoke--The only time notable being when Eddie had mockingly asked Sinclair if he needed a cheerleader when she’d first sat in, upon which she’d asked Eddie if he needed new kneecaps with a look in her eye that said she was serious.)

Wheeler Jr.’s gesture however, made her put her book down.

“You think he’s having migraines again?” She not so much asked as demanded, which had Mike shrugging.

“Dunno." Lucas says. "Dustin didn’t say.”

“Gotta be, if he called Dustin.” Mike mutters, Lucas shuffling his papers about as he begins to set up for Hellfire. He was the last in the room, practically late, which Eddie had planned on harassing him for had he not announced Henderson’s absence.

(Fucking freshmen. They just weren’t terrified of Eddie like they used to be.)

“Robin must be sick or something, otherwise he’d call her.” Lucas finishes as he finally sits down.

“Didn’t the Marching Band go on some trip?” Mike turns to address the rest of the table, and gets nods from Jeff and Gareth both.

“Yeah they’re marching in some parade in Indianapolis.” Jeff confirms.

“So his last resort was Dustin?” Max is getting that tone in her voice, the one that makes everyone at Hellfire very uncomfortable. “Typical.”

She pushes away from the table, making a show of gathering up her things before rising easily to her feet.

Eddie trades looks with the elder Hellfire members as she makes her exit--the kind that says they’re all going to be talking about this later.

They knew their freshmen had some weird obsession with the former King, of course, but Mayfield too?

What the hell was up with that guy?

At least Eddie thinks, right before things are once again shot to shit, they can go back to playing the game.

He can make it work this early into things, and if Henderson isn't’ a fan of what he’s about to do to the kid’s character in his absence, well.

Maybe he shouldn’t be fucking absent then.

“So what, Max, you're gonna go over there and make it worse?” Mike snorts.

Fatal mistake.

Eddie almost strangles him for it, if only because it prolongs this entire unnecessary conversation.

Max performs a military perfect heel turn, coming straight back for Wheeler Jr., which makes him right about fall out of his seat in panic.

“What was that, Wheeler?”

“I’m just saying--!”

“We don’t know Steve’s having migraines.” Lucas reiterates, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s something else.”

“Does Steve get migraines a lot?” Grant asks, because despite all appearances he’s a terrible gossip and gets sucked in far too easily.

Eddie throws a pencil at him for it.

“Hel-looo, we have a game!?” He thunders, but unfortunately for him, precious Stevie-Weavies headache now has everyone’s attention.

“Yeah, though he’s really good at pretending he doesn’t.” Lucas answers with a put upon sigh.

“There’s a whole pattern--he ignores it until it gets super bad, then he has to call Robin or Dustin to come get him when he inevitably gets stranded at work or the like, grocery store.”

“Well who else do you think he’d call?” Mike scoffs again. He does a lot of that, when discussing Harrington. “It’s not like his parents are--Ow, Max!”

“Close your mouth before I close it for you.” She hisses and Mike, shockingly, does just that.

To Eddie, she says;

“Your ass isn’t any better, or did you forget I live across from you?”

Eddie--who had an insult primed and ready--promptly shuts his mouth.

(Fucking! Asshole! Freshmen!)

“Maybe I should go too.” Lucas says, hedging a look between his girlfriend and his DM.

“No.” She snaps, pointing a finger at him.

“If you go, then this idiot,” she flicks her finger to Mike, “will go and then we really will make it worse. Stay here before your bichon frise has a fit about all his sheep abandoning him.”

Then she’s turning on her heel again, storming out.

“What the hell’s a bichon frisé?” Gareth asks in the aftermath, frowning.

“It’s a type of ahhhh--” Jeff clearly thinks better of the explanation, eyes sliding to Eddie.

Who’s scowling.

“I know what a bichon frisé is, Jeff.” He snaps.

“I don’t.” Grant loudly complains.

Jeff attempts to both calm Eddie and explain while Mike and Lucas spend far too many minutes looking after Max.

“Enough!” Eddie howls, temper finally getting the best of him. “Are we playing or do you also need to go sit by the King’s bedside?”

“Thank you,” Mike says, like he wasn’t a third of the entire problem. “Let’s play!”

They make it about ten entire minutes before getting knocked off track again.

In fairness, not that Eddie would ever admit it--the second meltdown is his own fault.

xXx

Hellfire is Eddie’s domain.

It’s one of the few places where he could relax without getting harassed or hounded, and having his freshmen--his!--abandon him for King Fucking Steve had set him off.

So he’d made a few comments about it.

Maybe introduced an NPC who sounded suspiciously similar to Harrington, only to instantly kill him off.

Made another couple of nasty comments.

Who cares? It worked him through his snit rather nicely, and his boys all knew to leave him be.

Except, apparently, for Lucas.

“Dude, would you lay off?” The kid finally snaps, pencil slamming down on the table.

Which is the most backbone-like thing anyone has ever heard Sinclair say, and he gets far more whistles for it than he should.

Eddie pins him in place with a glare.

“What was that Sinclair?” He snarls, voice as menacing as he can make it.

(It’s pretty terrifying, he’s practiced quite a bit with it.)

Sinclair flinches, but doesn’t back down.

“I said lay off. Steve has migraines because of--” He stops, before seeming to come to a decision. “Because of me. He took a hit for me, and I owe him a life debt for it.”

To Eddie, he says; “You get what those are, right?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t just for you--”

“That time with Billy was!” Lucas is quick to snarl. “But you know what Mike, you’re right. It wasn’t just for me. He T-boned a car for all of us!”

Sinclaire is on his feet now, which is the unfortunate moment that Eddie realizes he has once again lost control of the room.

A situation he firmly blames on Steve Harrington, because he’s petty.

“Or did you forget that part? That’s you, me, Will, Nancy and Jonathan right there! Nevermind the tunnel. Or the junkyard!

“We had the junkyard handled--”

Lucas scoffs.

“We absolutely did not.”

“I don’t get why you’re all making such a big deal out of this. He’s the fighter. That’s what he does. That’s why we brought him to the tunnel.”

“You recall what happened at Starcourt, right?” Lucas challenges, furious. “You did see him after, right?”

This, finally, seems to shut Mike up.

“Shouldn’t you be mad at him for that?” He says after a moment, and the rest of Hellfire has completely put aside all actual gaming to watch this play out with a morbid sort of fascination.

Eddie allows it, only because he’s trying to breathe the way Wayne taught him to before he loses it entirely and throws both of the idiot kids out of the drama room.

“He pulled your sister into it.”

“Have you met Erica!? You can’t pull her into shit!” Lucas spits furiously. “That wasn’t D&D, Mike. It was the Upsi--real life.”

Lucas is quick to correct himself, even in the heat of the moment--as all the kids are, like the entire school hasn’t clocked that they have some weird ass secret they’re terrible at hiding.

“And if we’re playing those games, then who pulled him into the tunnels? Who made him come to the junkyard?”

“Dustin.” Mike says snidely.

“You don’t get to blame Dustin when Steve was the only person around.”

“There were people around! They just weren’t people who--weren’t--who couldn’t--”

“Finish that sentence.” Lucas demands

“Be trusted.” Mike spits out, like it hurts him.

“Exactly.”

“El went through way more than Steve ever has! El--”

“El was using her po--doing mage things! And also, she shouldn’t have had to go through all this shit either! We can’t rely on her to save the day every single time, Mike--and look at how hurt she gets!”

“She--”

“She hides it from you, you know. How bad she hurts. Cause she wants to put your feelings first.”

“I--”

“Will does too.” Is Lucas’s parting shot. His backpack is in his hands in a blink, papers and character figure shoved wildly into it, before he’s storming out the door in a poor mimicry of Mayfield.

“Harrington T-Boned a car?” Grant says, in the resounding silence.

“That BMW of his hasn’t had a scratch on it--” Jeff says, with an inquisitive tilt to his head.

“He didn’t use the Beamer.” Mike interrupts, angry and sulking. “Are we playing or not?”

“I’m gonna say not, given we are down two players.’ Eddie tells him through clenched teeth.

“I’m going to be so mad if Steve doesn’t have a migraine.” Mike grumbles, as he begins packing up his stuff.

The rest of Hellfire follow his lead, after one look at Eddie’s face convince the lot of them that it’s best to flee now, before Eddie unleashes all his pent up rage.

“Not as mad as I’ll be, Wheeler.” Eddie promises darkly.

And it is a promise--because now, he’s going to follow all his stupid (sans Mike, who isn’t in his good graces either but at least stayed) freshmen--and go visit one fallen King.

If Harrington doesn’t have a headache now, he will when Eddie’s done with him.

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dreamsteddie · 2 months ago

Text

Wowza. Part one blew up way more than I thought it would so here! Part two! I do have more thoughts about this so there might be a couple more parts to come. We'll see ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

------

Eddie takes half a second to consider just not answering. Maybe throwing his phone away and never going back to the restaurant they went to last night so he never has to confront whatever it is that's about to happen. Maybe even fleeing the country and living alone on a sheep farm with no friends and go relationships ever again so something like this never happens again.

But then he thinks of Steve. Kind, funny Steve with the bright eyes and soft skin who looked at Eddie like he could fall in love with him and he knows that whatever comes next, Steve deserves for Eddie to see it through with him.

New Message: Steve H.

Hey

Just that one word sends Eddie's heart into his throat. He can see that Steve is still typing, those little ellipses of doom popping on and off the screen. Realistically, Steve probably doesn't know what happened, right? Eddie's pretty sure Steve wasn't in on it and it's been less than an hour since Eddie himself found out, so probably not.

Steve H: Gareth called me

Fuck.

Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.

If Eddie's heart was in his throat at the first text, the second one has it dropping through his body and out of his goddamned ass. It's not that he doesn't want Steve to know. He was always planning to tell him, he was just hoping he could be the one to do it. Gareth being a little shit and calling Steve first was not part of the plan.

Steve H: He told be about the prank. I'm sorry if I wasn't what you expected and you were just being nice. We can pretend it never happened. No hard feelings.

Eddie slams his head into his pillow. This is such a cluster fuck he can hardly bring himself to look at the text but he needs to come up with some kind of response, like, yesterday if he wants any chance of keeping the man of his dreams from running for the hills because apparently, Eddie's friends are trying to destroy his life. He takes a deep breath and starts typing.

Eddie: Hey, I'm so sorry about that. I just found out about what they did an hour ago at practice. I didn't think they would just call you out of the blue like that, I was just about to text you.

Not completely true, but Eddie was going to text him about it, just after screaming into his pillow and making a couple Vudu dolls first.

Eddie: For what it's worth I really do like you and I would love to still take you out on that second date, but I understand if my friends scared you off and you want nothing to do with me. I know it's fucked up.

It takes a minute for Steve to respond, the typing bubbles ebbing and flowing as Steve types and retypes whatever it is he wants to say. Eddie is about ready to call it a wash and start googling sheep farms for sale in Ireland when a new text comes in, dispelling all thoughts of learning to sheer wool.

Steve H: Are you sure?

And fuck if that doesn't hurt his heart. Eddie has spent all of two and a half hours with Steve, he's a virtual stranger, but Eddie can swear he can feel all of Steve's secondhand insecurity through that one lonely sentence. Before he even registers what he's asking, he send a quick reply.

Eddie: Can I Facetime you?

Before Eddie can try to rethink his decision, his screen lights up with a notification. Steve is calling him.

Eddie scrambles to answer, fumbling his phone a little in his haste and almost missing the call completely. He manages to get it on the last ring, breathing heavily in a way he knows can't be flattering.

All thoughts about his lack of dexterity fly out the window when he looks into his screen. On their date, Steve was perfectly put together. Hair meticulously done, clothes freshly pressed, and a light sheen of lipgloss accentuating the perfect curve of his mouth. While Steve is still beautiful through the lens of his camera, it's clear that he's been crying. His eyes are red and a little puffy, hair out of order in a way Eddie thinks is probably unusual for him, and Eddie can see that he's wearing a well-loved beige hoodie.

"Hi," Steve says, waving a shy hand almost the same way he had last night.

"Hey sweetheart," Eddie says, keeping his voice low and gentle, desperate to soothe Steve however he can through the distance of their phones.

For a minute they just look at each other, neither one knowing what to say in a situation like this. Eddie sees Steve gearing up to say something, but he cuts in before he starts. There's something he needs to say while Steve can see him face to face.

"I'm really sorry about what happened!" He says, much lounder than he intended. "My friends were being dicks. I haven't dated in a while and instead of being normal fucking people they set up this whole stupid prank but I swear I wasn't in on it!"

Something about what he says draws a small smile from the corner of Steve's mouth, so Eddie keeps talking. "Besides, if they wanted to prank me they should have picked someone that isn't a literal fucking model in disguise. There wasn't a chance in hell I wasn't going to beg you for that second date."

At that, Steve gives a little chuckle and it lifts Eddie's heart from where it'd fallen onto the floor and puts in back in his chest 10 times lighter than before.

"Jesus, are you always such a flirt Munson?" he says.

"Only when the boys are especially pretty," Eddie responds.

Steve gives another little laugh at that before sobering up. He gives Eddie a long look through the phone, and Eddie lets him.

"Are you sure you don't want to just call it quits here man? Gareth was pretty adamant that I'm not the kind of guy you usually go for. I don't want you to feel like you have to humor me out of kindness." There's a forced flippancy to Steve's words that Eddie knows well from his own Munson Coping Strategies Handbook. Steve is trying to give him an out, but Eddie can tell that he doesn't want to.

For the first time since this all started, Eddie is well and truly mad. Gareth and Jeff had absolutely no business poking around in his love life in the first place, but now they've reached out to the guy Eddie already told them he liked to what? Tell him never mind actually, we don't think you're the right guy for our friend even though he told us very explicitly how into you he is.

Eddie lets all the frustration, anger, and tenuous hope building up in his chest fuel his reply. This one has to count, he can feel it. It's a charisma saving throw with the whole campaign on the line. He can't miss this one.

"Honestly Steve, if you asked me two days ago what I was looking for in a partner, I probably would have said I wanted to date another alternative metalhead or punk who likes playing DnD and getting high on the weekend." Eddie can see Steve's shoulders slump as his eyes dart away, but he pushes on, determined to make his point.

"But, I haven't had as good a time as we had last night in a really long time." Steve looks back up, eyes alight with the same tentative hope Eddie himself is channeling. "I think you're funny and interesting, and you have the absolute worst takes on ice cream flavors, and you're hot as hell. Like, seriously the hottest guy I've ever seen in real life."

Steve smiles, the edges of his eyes crinkling.

Critical success.

"So, about that second date."

-------

Tag List

@wheneverfeasible @the-dark-hearts @sofadofax @wrenisfangirling @whatfinestandsfor @lilpomelito @raisedbylibrarians @ollyxar @mugloversonly @xxbottlecapx @hezaaxdexangelous @kimsnooks @that-one-gay-crow

#steddie #fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #corroded coffin #This is kind of my first time writing real dialogue #so lmk if it sounds weird #if I do another part #it will probably be about steddie getting closer #while Eddie avoids his friends #and they both grapple with what it would mean to reconcile with them #dreamer speaks

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hairmetal666 · 7 months ago

Text

They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.

Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.

The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.

To Metallica.

And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.

"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.

Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."

"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.

"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"

He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.

"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.

"Well, Dio's pretty okay."

This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.

---

Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.

"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.

Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"

He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.

"You want chips?" He asks.

"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.

"What?"

"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."

And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.

"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"

Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--

"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."

"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."

He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.

---

"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.

"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.

"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.

"Wha--huh?" He blinks.

"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."

"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.

Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.

"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.

"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.

Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.

---

Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.

He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.

Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.

A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.

---

It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.

There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."

He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"

Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"

Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."

"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"

"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."

"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."

Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."

"Of course. It's just--this is just you."

He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."

"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.

He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.

The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"

"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."

He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."

"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.

He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."

"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.

He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.

It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.

"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.

"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"

Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."

"Yeah?"

"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."

"Well, stick around for a while."

Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #fluff #friends to lovers #domestic fluff #getting together #feelings confession #pre-relationship domesticity #post-canon #love builds in the quiet moments #bed sharing #clothes sharing #songwriter eddie munson #steve and wayne are besties #steve and wayne use baseball lingo

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chelseeebe · 7 months ago

Text

truth or dare

18+. mdni. smuuuut. yeah man it’s really just smut. eddie munson x female reader.

a/n: not sure if i really like this but i wanted to post something while i work on this other long ass thing that may never see the light of day el oh el a continuation to gimme a hand and bump n’ grind or can absolutely be read on it’s own!

steve and robin had made the right call, leaving a few hours ago before the storm really hit.

eddie’d stupidly offered another joint, not wanting to let you go so soon. optimistic that maybe something would happen after those two had cleared off.

you’d been darting around it all evening, watching the movie with your hand under the blanket, stroking his thigh. inadvertently, or perhaps purposefully, making his cock shift with every length of your hand.

you peer out of the window, clicking your tongue against the back of your teeth, “i don’t think i can drive,” turning back to face him, “it’s really comin’ down out there,” a hint of satisfaction in your voice.

“i’m sure wayne won’t mind if you crash here,” shrugging softly.

you used to stay around a lot when you were slightly younger, back when touch was innocent and there weren’t all these complicated layers to your relationship.

“can you handle that?”

his eyes roll back, “shut up,” sitting back in his spot on the couch. anticipating spending the night here rather than in his bed, desperate to prove that he could handle it.

“whatcha wanna do?” you sing, pursing your lips.

“i dunno,” he shrugs, “we could watch another movie?” knowing that ultimately, another movie would lead to you touching his thigh until he came or something.

“that’s boring,” scowling at his suggestion, “i mean.. we are stuck in here,” biting on your bottom lip, “let’s play a game,” you propose, cocking your head, “truth or dare.”

eddie groans, an unwilling participant in your silly little games.

“come on,” offering zero incentive for him to play, “it’ll be fun,” taking another swig of the surely luke-warm beer. “truth or dare?”

there is not a single bone in his body that wants to play with you. no doubt you’d have him confessing to something embarrassing or doing something dangerous or stupid.

“dare,” he says flatly, hoping you’ll dare him to jump out of the window or something.

“i dare you..” you ponder for only a second, “to take your shirt off.”

“wh-,” he starts, mouth falling open, “well i dare you to take your shirt off.”

“it’s not my turn, idiot,” pursing your lips, “off.. now.”

pouting your lips, watching carefully as he lifts his shirt off, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“alright,” honing in on this stupid game, “truth or dare?”

“dare.”

eddie’s eyes light up, “take your shirt off,” immediately getting his own back.

“you’re supposed to say i dare you before your dare,” tutting at his impatience, though you do as he says.

lifting your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy bra you had most definitely chosen on purpose. maybe this was your plan all along, waiting to get him alone to inflict your cruel wrath upon him.

he ogles just enough to not have you mention anything, diverting his attention back to whatever drivel was on the tv. desperate to just get over this dancing around each other and get to the inevitable.

“truth or dare?” you ask again, poking his leg with your foot.

“do we have to play?” eddie whines.

“yes.”

“okay truth,” he spits, leaning back against the cushions.

“why didn’t it work out with you and chrissy?”

he groans again, already sick of this, “we wanted different things,” different things being you, he means.

“like what? i thought you were testing the waters or whatever?” mocking him with his own words.

“you. you jerked me off and ruined my life forever, is that what you wanted me to say?”

you ponder in silence for a moment before that god awful smirk creeps onto your face, “actually yes, that’s exactly what i wanted you to say,” crossing your legs, all self-righteous and smug.

it’s not like you didn’t already know this, it was fairly obviously to anyone with eyes and two brain cells to rub together.

“your turn,” smiling pointedly at you, “truth or dare?”

you hum, contemplating your options, whatever you picked, he was surely going to make it worth his while.

“dare.”

“alright,” eddie sits up straight, poking his tongue into his cheek, “i dare you to run around outside in your underwear,” if you wanted to play stupid games, you could win stupid prizes too.

your smile grows, taking over your entire face, “fine,” standing from your spot on the floor, shimmying out of your jeans right in front of him.

he jumps up, rushing to the door as you bound outside, filling the silent trailer park with your squeals and squeaks.

eddie watches in quiet amazement, more focused on the way your tits move with every bound, your lacy panties framing your jiggling ass perfectly. he’s close to drooling, turning into a slobbering mess at the sight of you literally frolicking in your panties. he was a pathetic man, and he knew it.

you turn, running full speed back into the door, teeth chattering and your hands trembling from the cold. barrelling straight past him, back into the warmth, lashes coated in tiny, intricate snowflakes.

“fuck!” you screech, “you asshole,” picking up his discarded shirt to slip on instead of your own. he wishes you hadn’t. seeing you half naked in his shirt was far worse than seeing you actually naked.

eddie snickers, closing the door all the while trying to keep his composure.

a smirk erupts onto your face, something ticking away in your brain before you stomp over, grabbing his cheeks with your ice cold hands, grinning with pure self satisfaction.

he hollers, grabbing your wrists in defence. it becomes a flailing sort of dance, with you trying to keep your cold hands on his face and him fighting to get you away. a mixture of expletives fill the trailer, screeching over one another as you move around the room.

you trip over one of the discarded bottles on the floor, sending you flying back onto the couch, still breathlessly cursing him out.

eddie takes the only logical step, pouncing on top of your flailing body, bounding your arms together at the wrist, heaving for breath.

he freezes, the realisation that for once he had all the power dawning upon him, unequipped for the sudden change in dynamic.

he can feel you, underneath him, pressed into the couch by his body, sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna do something or what?” you snark, no longer trying to wriggle free, accepting and even pleased in your defeat.

“yeah,” he adds meekly, despite not making an attempt to actually do something.

your brows thread together, knee sliding up the side of his body, spreading your legs further as his cock perks up in response.

holy fucking shit.

this was it.

or it could be it if he can gather his raucous thoughts enough to make a move.

eddie’s had sex before, multiple times in fact. he doesn’t understand why his hands aren’t doing the thing they should be, why he’s frozen in place, waiting for something to happen.

“we don’t have to, you know?”

fuck. he was going to fuck this up through sheer stupidity.

so instead of letting his brain worm his way out of what would probably be the best moment of his life, he thinks with his dick.

pressing his lips to yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. letting your hands free from his restraint, allowing you to weave your fingers through his hair just like he’d thought so much about.

his hands crawling underneath his shirt, touching your skin for what felt like the first time ever, gliding over your waist, appreciating the soft feel of your skin, lingering for too long.

he doesn’t want to take it off, how many times could he say he’d have sex with you with his shirt on?

you’d already stripped him out of his clothes, leaving nothing to the imagination as his hips grind down against yours, breathing shakily into your mouth.

your lips latch onto his, tongue sliding into his open mouth while your fingers pull gently at his curls.

even when eddie thinks he’s fully in control, you still take charge. rutting your hips upwards, separated by the thin layer of lace and his boxers that most definitely had a hole in them.

there’s a fifty percent chance that he’ll cum right away, already incredibly hard, teetering on the edge.

it’s genuinely incomprehensible that after months and months of longing and edging, this was finally happening. too caught up with trying to keep to your pace to really think about the implications on your relationship too much.

he hopes that this won’t change anything, at least not negatively anyway.

your hand slides down the tiny space left in between your bodies, toying with the waistband of his boxers before slipping in. unable to contain his groan from slipping out and into your mouth.

tugging the fabric down just enough to let his cock out, giving him no time to recover before your fist wraps around the base of his cock, pumping your fingers around the sensitive skin.

“fuck,” he breathes, bottom lip still latched onto yours. no hand had ever come close to yours, filling his thoughts since you’d touched him for the first time.

wayne’s ratty old couch wasn’t exactly the romantic location he’d envisioned this happening in, but beggars can’t be choosers and eddie certainly wasn’t going to complain.

he’s so dumbfounded that any of this is even happening, clumsily fumbling with the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down haphazardly, with no care or grace.

his previous displays of desperation made sure you didn’t care about his composure, or else you wouldn’t be here.

your lips collide, all teeth and tongues and spit. eddie too focused on the feel of your hand around his cock to care.

he can feel your body shift from underneath, manoeuvring his cock to your soaked entrance, letting out the most ungodly noise as the tip glistens with your slick.

pressing your sweaty forehead against his, begging for his full attention, “look at me,” you insist, running your fingers around his cock, withholding him from full satisfaction.

he does as you ask, finding your wild-eyed gaze, holding it just long enough to slide into your slick cunt, grunting into the hot air that hung around the room.

“fuck,” you bite, weaving your fingers through his hair, tightening your things around his waist.

it’s dizzying. feeling you envelope around him just as he’d imagined countless times before. you’re so warm and so wet, so so wet. eddie can’t help but wonder if this is how you’d felt when you were grinding against him.

nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the fuzzy haze that’d encapsulate his brain, thoughts only of you and your body and your pussy.

his balls slap against your ass, slow and steady, hoping not to bust five seconds in. keeping his eyes on yours, encapsulated by the way they flit between his eyes and his lips.

heaven wouldn’t be too far off this, he thinks.

his rhythm is neither here nor there but he was trying, filling you to the hilt and then pulling back out again.

every soft, melodic gasp and cry you made was echoing through his brain, spurring him on to make them louder.

purely intoxicated with your pussy, gasping for more as he slams against your hips.

this wasn’t going to last long but he sure as shit was going to make it worthwhile.

you writhe underneath his body, fingernails grazing against his scalp, gentle and yet demanding.

“sh-shit eds,” you pant, jaw slack with your tongue practically lolling out of your head.

just hearing you moan his name has detrimental effects on his brain chemistry. his eyelids struggle, fluttering open just enough to meet your glossy eyes, pupils blown out and crazy. this was going to wreck him for the rest of his life, cursed forever by the image of you and your parted lips. the way you wail his name becoming a tune he’d revisit constantly.

he’d love to capture it, one day, if you’d let him.

no one would ever come close to you, your cunt and your god forsaken sighs. eddie promises to himself that if there’s a next time, he’s not leaving until you cum. unsure if he’d be able to control himself but more than willing to take that risk.

his thrusts become sporadic, losing his grip on reality as he teeters closer and closer to the edge. you can see it too, tugging gently on his hair to bring him back to this reality.

pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth, too high off of your own pleasure to aim for accuracy.

eddie’s not sure if he prefers your goading or this softer touch, honestly neither were helping him not to bust his load right now.

“yeah?” you breathe, in response to his hoarse grunts, succumbing to the tightening pressure in his stomach, “you gonna cum?” sighing against his mouth.

he doesn’t want to, not really. hoping this’d last forever and ever because god knows if you’d ever let him touch you again.

hoping desperately to have not wasted his one and only time buried inside of you by cumming in five minutes flat.

but he is going to cum, in fact, he’s dangerously close to doing so immediately. the way you squeeze and tighten around him only accelerating the inevitable, his toes curling and mouth running dry.

he was seeing stars, dancing around the inside of his eyelids. woozy on adrenaline as he pathetically ruts his hips into yours for a final few lousy strokes.

“oh fuck,” eddie rushes, “no- fuck i’m cumming,” his cock slides out, thick ropes of his release covering not only your inner thighs but the couch too. collapsing atop of your perfect body, pinning you to the cushions as he attempts to gain some sort of semblance of control.

his face finds your chest, heaving for breath between your tits, his shirt pulled up just enough for your bra to peep underneath the hem.

“jesus christ,” words vibrating against your skin, almost purring at your fingers combing through his hair.

nothing he could ever dream would match up to that. the neurons in his brain had been frazzled, never to work or compute the way they should, ever again.

he places a measly kiss to your chest, looking up at you through his lashes, an insignificant gesture of appreciation that he felt he owed.

“you good?” you ask, lips twitching into a smile, unsure if you’re mocking him or genuinely concerned. either or would be fine.

“not really,” still floating up above the clouds.

“shut up,” definitely mocking, pulling tufts of his hair back to have him meet your eye fully, “you liked that?”

he nods enthusiastically, pining after your approval like the lovesick little loser he truly was. incredibly, you hadn’t run off into the storm, so maybe you had too.

“good,” abruptly letting go of his hair, his head falling back onto your chest, “get off me, i need a shower,” attempting to peel him off of your body.

eddie knows, or at least hopes, that your snippy, sarcastic comments were made out of love. you showed affection by being a bitch and he showed his by being a stumbling, pathetic loser.

if that was all he had to endure to get anywhere near your pussy again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. each and every time.

wayne’s knuckles wrap against his bedroom door, waking eddie from the already broken sleep he was suffering with, far too excitable to settle down properly. instead he’d spent his hours between drifting in and out of sleep and watching your dreamy face, trying to match his breaths to yours.

he slides out of bed, careful not to wake you, treading carefully to avoid the mountains of crap strewn across the floor.

“what the hell?” wayne whispers angrily, gesturing back to the living room he had neglected to clean. too caught up in you being in his shower and in his bed with his shirt on to care about empty beer bottles and discarded clothes.

“sorry,” eddie squirms, knowing he couldn’t exactly worm his way out of this one. “we had a few beers.. you know,” shrugging coyly. his uncle wasn’t stupid, he definitely did know.

wayne’s eyes narrow, flitting behind eddie to you, sleeping soundly in his bed. thankfully covered by the blanket as you slept in just his shirt.

“what happened there?” raising his brow at his inconspicuous nephew.

he shrugs, and then he grins. that great big toothy grin that wayne couldn’t mistake.

wayne shakes his head, tutting to himself as he backs away from the door, “clean that shit up before i wake up,” before disappearing into his own room.

eddie smiles to himself, sliding back into bed when you stir, humming softly, displeased to have been woken up so early.

“is he mad?” you mumble, muffled by the pillow.

“no.. no, not really,” eddie hushes, turning on his side to face you.

you’re still dozing, not bothering to open your eyes though he didn’t mind, you were peaceful this way, far calmer than your usual self.

“good,” settling into the pillow before slinging your leg over his thigh, pulling yourself closer, “he loves me too much to do anything anyway,” nestling your body into his side.

if the world ended tomorrow, eddie would die a happy man.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson being pathetic #eddie munson x reader

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kimoralov3 · 4 months ago

Text

daylight

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

description: steve has had a lot of trouble in his love life. but he's also one of the biggest idiots known to man because the girl of his dreams is standing right in front of him

warnings: swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, everyone is a lil mean to steve, mentions of stancy (not like that), like i said steve is an idiot, slight angst, fluff

word count: 3059

a/n: tagging @arkofblake because this technically was smth that she requested before i changed it. also shout out to her mom for the knowledge about phones from the 80s lol

“Steve, you can’t keep staring at her like some sort of lost puppy.” Robin says as she helps Steve put some beer and sodas in the cooler.

“What are you talking about?” He asks as he turns back to the fridge.

“Oh please, you’ve been staring at Nancy and Jonathan ever since they got here.” Robin comments as she opens the bag of ice and clumsily dumps it into the small cooler.

“Have not.” Steve mutters as he shuts the fridge door. Robin gives him a look, the look she seems to be giving him a lot these days. “Okay, fine. I have been staring at them, but not for the reason you’re thinking.”

“Oh really? What other reason is there for you to be staring at your ex and her new boyfriend?” She says suspiciously.

Steve pauses, trying to find the words to express the tangled mess that is his love life. He eventually gives up, shaking his head as he grabs the cooler off the counter and walks outside to the pool. “I can’t explain it.”

“Oh come on, you gotta give me something.” Robin pleads, giving Steve her best puppy dog eyes.

Steve glances over at his best friend before quickly looking away. “Those don’t work on me.” He says definitely, but quickly gives in when he spares another glance at Robin. “Seeing them together just makes me think about all the things I don’t have.”

“Wow, that’s really sad.” Robin says solemnly as she holds the back door open for Steve. “You sure you don’t still have feelings for Nancy?” She adds after another moment of silence.

“Absolutely positive, Robin. That ship sailed a long time ago.” He explains as he sets the cooler by the pool.

And he wasn’t lying. Steve really was over Nancy. Sure, there had been a time when he thought the two of them would evolve into something more, but that was ages ago.

But now Steve was alone for the first time in years, and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He’d been on dates, but they’d turned more into a chore than something he was actually enjoying. They all left him feeling like a piece of him was missing, a piece of himself that he just knew was important.

“Steve?” A voice called, pulling him from his well of self despair.

“Yeah?” He says as he turns around, nearly falling over when he notices who’s in front of him.

“Can you move over so I can grab a soda?” Y/N asks politely as she gestures to the cooler behind Steve.

“Oh shit, yeah, of course.” Steve stutters as he moves out of the way, nearly falling into the pool. Y/N gives him an awkward smile as she grabs a soda before walking back over to sit with Jonathan and Nancy.

“What was all of that about?” Dustin asks as he appears beside Steve, munching on some Goldfish.

“Jesus kid, you need to wear a bell or something!” Steve exclaims as he presses a hand to his fast beating heart.

“Or maybe you just need to be more observant.” Dustin says mockingly as he flicks a Goldfish at Steve’s face, causing the older male to swat at him.

“Will you two quit it!” Robin says as she separates the two of them. Dustin flips Steve off before going to go sit back with the party and Suzie.

“I swear that kid has no manners.” Steve mutters to himself as Robin walks away to go sit with Eddie and Chrissy. Steve is so busy mentally planning out his revenge against Henderson that he doesn’t notice a certain someone staring at him like he’s hung the moon and the stars.

—

“Robin, you seriously need glasses or something. How could you put Ferris Bueller and Top Gun in the same section?” Steve complains as he removes the tapes from the shelf.

“Oh quit being a baby and move them, I’m busy here.” Robin calls from the back. Steve rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he moves to the back of the store to grab his cart.

“I’ll be with you in a minute!” He says when the front door rings. He sets the missorted tapes on a random shelf as he walks back up to the front counter.

“Welcome to Family Video, how can I help y— Y/N?” Steve asks, shocked to see her here.

“Oh, hey Steve. I forgot you worked here.” She says with a laugh as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. Effortlessly, and beautifully to him, if anyone cared enough to ask what he thought. Which was a rarity.

Steve gives her a small smile, silently cursing himself for not taking his normal amount of care when he was getting ready this morning.

Robin really needs to learn some patience.

“Yeah, have been for a while.” He says as he rubs the nape of his neck. “So, what can I help you with today?”

“Well, my parents are out of town so it’s just me at home. Figured I’d get some movies to keep myself occupied for a while they’re gone.” She explains as she looks around the store before her eyes land on Steve once again, causing a shiver to run down his spine. “Got any recommendations for me?”

“Of course, walk with me.” He says, shooting her his signature smile as he walks over to the staff picks shelf.

“Is that Labyrinth?” Y/N asks with a chuckle as she picks it up and inspects the back.

Steve groans, rolling his eyes as he sees the movie. “Fucking Eddie. He must’ve snuck it onto the shelf when he was here earlier.”

“Well, he has good taste. Think I’ll be taking this one with me.” She says as she waves the box. Steve can’t explain it, but he feels a small tightness in his chest.

“To each their own, I guess.” He says with a shrug, trying to ignore this strange feeling. “Anyways, I would definitely recommend these if you’re looking for a more calm night in.”

Steve hands over The Goonies, The Muppets Take Manhattan, and Back to the Future, waiting patiently for a reaction.

“Oh my god, is this a Muppets movie?” She asks with a laugh, inspecting the box. “My little cousin loves this movie.”

“Hm, I don’t know how I should feel about that. Are you calling my cinematic taste childish?” Steve asks with a chuckle as he leans against the shelf.

“I would definitely call it that.” Robin says, wheeling a cart as she walks past the two of them. Steve glares at her while Y/N snorts, hiding her smile behind her hand.

“I wasn’t going to say that it was childish. I was going to say that it’s…interesting.” She explains, her voice pitching up on the last word.

Steve scoffs at that, shaking his head. “Sure, we’ll go with that.” He says jokingly. “So, will this be all for you?”

“Uh, yeah. This should be good enough for the weekend.” She says as the two of them walk back to the front counter.

“Glad to be of service.” Steve says as he takes a small bow, cursing himself for how stupid he probably looks.

“You know, you’re really funny.” Y/N says as Steve rings up the movies. Steve smiles softly, more affected by her words than he would like to admit.

“Could you tell Robin that? She says I have the humor of an old man.” He jokes as he puts the tapes into a bag. Y/N snorts again, this time a little louder.

“See what I mean? Very funny, Harrington. Very funny.” She says as he hands her the bag. There’s a brief moment of silence before Y/N speaks up again. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow? You know, watch a movie with me or something?” She asks nervously.

Steve’s mouth hangs open a little, blinking slowly. There was no way he heard that correctly. “You want me to come over?”

“Yeah. Only if you want to, of course.” She clarifies quickly.

“Of course I wanna come. I’ll even bring some snacks.” He says as he leans his arms on the counter.

Y/N smiles at that, nodding her head. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She says, giving Steve one final wave before leaving.

“Man, you are such a doofus.” Robin says as she comes up behind him.

“Can you not?” Steve says as he turns around to face her. Robin smirks, winking at him before walking away.

—

“You did what?” Eddie asks with a laugh as he stops strumming on his guitar.

“Don’t laugh at me, I need your help here!” Steve says as he throws his soda can at Eddie.

“Hey, careful! This is my most prized possession.” Eddie says as he throws the can back at Steve, missing him entirely. “Now, tell me exactly what happened.”

“Y/N invited me over, and I went because of course I would, you know? And everything was going really well, at least to me.” Steve explains as he leans back against Eddie’s dresser.

“Okay, doesn’t sound too bad so far. What happened after that?” Eddie says as he turns the knobs on his guitar.

“Then I thanked her for inviting me and left.” Steve says simply. Eddie abruptly stops what he’s doing, setting his guitar down on his bed.

“You did what now?” Eddie exclaims as he stands from the bed, causing Steve to look up at him.

“Left. Why, what’s wrong?” He asked, very confused by Eddie’s sudden outburst.

“You’re a fucking idiot, that’s what’s wrong.” Eddie says as he grabs Steve’s arm and hauls him into the living room. “Stand right there.”

Steve grumbles something under his breath as he rubs his arm where Eddie had grabbed it. “Since when are you strong?”

“Amps are heavy as shit man. Now shush.” He says as he dials a number on the phone. Steve mutters something about Eddie being rude as he watches him press the phone to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” Steve asks, only to be shushed by Eddie. Steve rolls his eyes, watching as Eddie waits for the person on the other end to pick up.

“Hey Y/N! Do you have a moment to talk?” Eddie says when the person on the other end picks up. Steve automatically stands up straighter, listening closely to try and hear what Y/N was saying.

“— Not in the mood—” Is the only thing that Steve can make out from here, causing him to frown. Was Y/N really that upset with him that she didn’t want to talk to anyone?

“Just humor me, please? What exactly happened yesterday with Harrington?” Eddie asks as Steve gets closer to the phone.

“I did what you and Robin told me to and asked Steve out, and absolutely nothing happened. I even tried scooting closer to him to see if he would catch the hint, but he didn’t! And then when it was time for him to leave, I went to kiss his cheek and he hugged me, Eddie. He hugged me!” Y/N rants from the other end of the line. “So either everyone is bullshitting me and Steve Harrington actually isn’t into me, or he’s the most oblivious man on the face of the planet.”

Eddie gives Steve a knowing look as he says his goodbyes before hanging up the phone. “See? Idiot.”

Steve bangs his head against the wall as Eddie pats him pitifully on the shoulder. “So you mean to tell me that yesterday was supposed to be a date?” He finally says when he’s done with his attempt to knock some sense into himself.

“It was a date. Could you honestly not tell?” Eddie asks as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“No! I just thought that she was trying to be nice!” Steve says as he slides down the wall.

“Man, can’t believe this. Former king of Hawkins High is sitting on the floor of my trailer, having a crisis because he blew a date with a pretty girl.” Eddie says as he shakes his head. Steve doesn’t even bother responding, sitting there with his head in his hands. “So, are you going to try and fix it or not?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks as he finally looks up.

“God, since when did I become the smart one here?” Eddie asks in mock disappointment. “You need to go back over to Y/N’s and make everything right.”

“How am I supposed to do that? I think you of all people should know that I’m not good with this stuff.” Steve said as he stood up. Eddie groans, rubbing his hands over his face.

“My god, Harrington. You’re hopeless.” He says. “Here, I’ll tell you exactly what to do.”

Under any other circumstance, those words would’ve sent fear straight into Steve’s heart. Especially coming from someone like Eddie. But he was desperate, and desperate people don’t always make the smartest decisions.

—

Steve stands outside of Y/N’s door, her favorite flowers in hand. He stands there for a moment, mentally going over everything that Eddie told him to say. He takes a deep breath before giving up and knocking on the door.

It’s silent for a moment before Steve hears the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. The door opens up to reveal Y/N standing there, arms over her chest.

“What do you want, Harrington?” She asks coldly. Steve gulps at that, rocking back and forth on his feet a little. Guess I deserve that a little.

“I just came here to apologize. For yesterday.” He says as he holds out the bouquet of flowers. Y/N hesitates before taking the flowers from him, smelling them quickly.

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” She asks after a moment.

“For being an idiot. If I had known that you wanted yesterday to be a date, I would’ve handled things a lot differently.” Steve explains as he nervously shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Different? Different how?” She asks as she leans against the doorframe. Steve pauses, trying to think of the best way to say what he wanted to say.

“Can I come in? I think it would be better.” He asks as he scratches his head. Y/N gives him a suspicious look before stepping aside and gesturing to the living room. Steve mutters a small thank you as the two of them walk into the living room and sit on the couch.

“So, what exactly is it that you would’ve done differently?” She asks as she sets the flowers on the coffee table.

“For starters, I wouldn’t have let our first date just be us watching a Muppets movie on your couch.” Steve says in a joking tone, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. “If I had known, I would have taken you out to dinner. Hell, if you really wanted I would’ve taken you to go see one but god I would not have gone to go see a freaking kids movie.”

“Why, what’s wrong with kids' movies?” Y/N asks teasingly, causing Steve to laugh for the first time since he got there.

“I guess you’re right.” Steve says as he turns to face Y/N. “Can we get a do over date? I promise that this time I won’t act like a complete idiot.” He says sincerely. Y/N seems to mull it over for a moment before looking up at Steve.

“Promise?” She asks softly, as if she was still hurt and embarrassed from what happened the night before.

“Swear on my life. And you know if I break it, I’ll have Nancy, Robin, and Eddie on my ass about it.” He adds jokingly, but it isn’t really a joke. He had seen first hand how scary Nancy could be when she was upset, and he did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Again.

“Fine. But I’ll need you to ask me properly.” She says after a longer moment of consideration, sitting up straight against the back of the couch.

“Fine by me.” Steve says as he stands up, pulling Y/N with him. They give each other small smiles before Steve clears his throat dramatically. “Y/N, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now. Longer than I would personally like to admit. So, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

Y/N stands with their hand on their chin, looking off into space as she pretends to think long and hard about Steve’s offer. Steve starts to get nervous that she might actually reject him when she leans up, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “Of course I’ll go out with you, Steve.”

Steve feels the heat rush to his cheek at Y/N’s actions, looking down at them with the biggest grin in the world. “You know, technically we’ve already had our first date. So it wouldn’t be completely insane of me to kiss you, would it?” He asks as he steps closer to her.

Y/N lets out a chuckle before responding, her hands behind her back. “No, no. I don’t think it would be completely insane, as you put it.”

That’s all the permission Steve needs before he pulls Y/N closer by her hips, their lips slotting together perfectly. He feels more than hears her sigh into the kiss as she raises her arms to wrap them around his neck.

When they both pull away for air, Steve swears he can see all the stars in her eyes. “That was…”

“Wow, how many girls can say that they took Steve Harrington’s breath away after a single kiss?” She asks teasingly, although it was easy to tell by the heat of her cheeks that she was just as — if not more — affected by the kiss as Steve was.

Steve rolls his eyes, which was seeming to become a common practice for him these days. “Way to ruin the moment.”

Y/N shrugs, giving Steve one of her award winning smiles. At least they were in his mind. “What can I say, it’s one of my many special talents.”

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