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#it's appreciate mike hour
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Mike Campbell & The Dirty Knobs | State of Mind ft. Margo Price & Stan Lynch
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ivyzombehhh · 2 years
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i wanted to draw this post lolol
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cazzyf1 · 2 months
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That time I went to an exhibition on Peter Collins
During the summer of last year, I was just starting my research into Mike Hawthorn for my dissertation and, by a stroke of luck, found out that where my family was going on holiday, there was a temporary Peter Collins exhibit. I wish I could go back in time and take hundreds of more photos because there was so much information about Peter, including all his wife Louise's letters. Unfortunately, the exhibit closed a few months back, and I'm unsure where everything is now. But enjoy this video and the photos I saved from when I visited.
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grinchwrapsupreme · 6 months
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I think what might have been better (for me) would be if they hadn't skipped ahead quite so far in the last scene and instead Alison and Mike were returning only a few years later with Mia. Still the "usual room" and still all the old decor kept around the building, but Alison walks into the room holding Mia's hand and "introduces" her to the ghosts, the idea being that she's old enough now even if she can't see them to know they're there, to know that Alison not only gives the ghosts that allowance in her life on her own terms but also perhaps that she can tell Mia stories about the funny dead people who became her family
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dukeofspiders · 2 years
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STRANGER THINGS: Mike + Will but there's no dialogue
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thepringlesofblood · 1 year
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out of context spoilers for neverafter ep 11
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With all the new users may I reccomend a very cool blog (I am not biased in any way to it /lie). It is @mcytcrafts and reblogs craft fanart! There is also a backlog of cool crafts as well, the community is so talented and the stuff people make is amazing!
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vampiresbloodx · 8 months
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Hi sorry for asking but I read your request thingy and I'm curious if you could do a vanessa(fnaf movie) x female reader smut maybe dubcon or noncon idk but I would appreciate it or even just smut .
thank you for reading this even if u don't write it -▫️
a/n: hhhhhsvshshshsh yes. Wait I also just realized yall signed off with emojis let me know if you want me to tag your asks as that or smth.
Trigger warnings: smut, legal age gap (reader is 20 and Vanessa is 29/early 30s), reader is Mike's little sister, vaginal fingering, dubcon, stalking.
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Vanessa told herself to stay away.
You were Mike's little sister, in college from the information she managed to get from the small talk she had with Mike. And you were off limits.
But she couldn't stop thinking about you.
Running her hands all over your body, making you moan and whimper, she'd make you see stars if she wanted to.
But she wasn't allowed anywhere near you.
She couldn't even breath around you without having Mike scold her.
She understands why he's so protective over his two sisters, after all, he did loose his brother when he was 12. That would have definitely been traumatic. And she knows he wouldn't want to let that happen again.
But still.
He was annoying, she couldn't ask you how your day was without feeling Mike's gaze on the back of her head, he knew she was gay, that was no secret she kept, she was open and proud, and made it clear she didn't like men.
It just wasn't fair, she just wanted to talk to you, make you smile and laugh, make sure you're safe, she cares about you too, even abby, she liked all of you three being around the restaurant working late hours. You bad joined your brother in sharing some night shifts together as you had told her you wanted to save up and one day get out of this boring town, she was supportive of that, since she knew how you felt.
She also knows all of your schedules including when your brother is off for the night.
Luckily he had abby to look after since he knew you can take care of yourself.
She watched you say your goodbyes to your siblings as you hugged them and they saw you off in Mike's car, you blasted your music, Fleetwood mac as she smiled, imagining her sitting next to you in the car as she listens to you sing along.
She followed you all the way to the pizzaria, you grabbed your energy drink, a book, your walkman, and you were off to work.
She'd usually visit you when you worked alone, since that was the only time she could see you without him around.
Vanessa got out of her car, shutting the door behind her as she walked inside the pizzeria.
She saw you sitting in the security room, looking at the monitors as she smiled, leaning against the entrance.
"Hey."
You jumped, startled. Letting out a gasp as you looked around only to see a familiar blonde.
"Shit, you scared me!" You said.
"Sorry" Vanessa chuckled, looking amused by your reaction. "I just wanted to check up on you."
"I'm doing okay, it's not that bad" you said, Vanessa stepped into the office, shutting the door behind her as you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
"What are you?-"
You were cut off from your words as you felt her grab you by the arms, pushing you up against the wall as she pressed her lips to yours, knocking the air out of you.
"Just shut up" She mumbled, you froze, unsure of what to do. Sure, you felt attraction towards her, but your brother said to stay away from her, you didn't understand why since she was always kind towards you and your sister and even him. You wanted to get to know her better, maybe even become friends. "Stop talking."
You felt her hands roam your body, touching you as you felt your cheeks heat up, you wasn't sure if you should scream or try to push her off because you didn't even feel that uncomfortable.
She was pretty after all.
You were a sucker for pretty blondes.
Ans she happend to be one.
You just kept your mouth shut, letting her touch you as you could hear her breathing turn ragged.
"God that annoying brother of yours" She muttered, moving her hands to get rid of your belt on your jeans. "So fucking nosy, always around you. I just wanted to talk to you. See you."
You gasped, feeling her cold fingers rub against your clit, you bit back a moan, as you gripped onto her.
"I know you like me to" She moaned, feeling how wet you are, "always looking at me when you think I'm not watching. I'm always watching."
You bucked your hips onto her hand, chasing your high as you were desperate.
Vanessa grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to stare at her.
"Now I've got you all to myself" She smiled.
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sadesluvr · 7 months
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Doctor's Orders - S. Raglan x Reader x M. Schmidt
You and Mike are having intimacy issues, and Dr Raglan is the best couples therapist in town.
A/N: Pure filth and nothing more. This might be the dirtiest fic I've ever made...Minors DNI
Word count: 2.4K
Tags: Threesomes / Cuckolding / Dom + Sub dynamics / Age gaps – Steve is in his 50’s, Reader and Mike are in their mid 20s / Hints of manipulation / Abuse of power / Oral sex, fem and male receiving / Breeding / Humiliation / Overstimulation / Sex rivalry / Unprotected sex  / Dirty talk
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Dr Raglan was a renowned couples therapist in your town, which was why you were so eager to see him with your boyfriend Mike. Even though you’d been together for a while, when it came to sex you’d found that he had trouble staying ‘up’, and even reaching orgasm. He insisted it wasn’t you, but the egotistical part of you worried that you weren’t enough.
Still, you would’ve never guessed that, upon hearing your issues, the doctor would’ve been gracious to extend the session by another hour, free of charge. It slightly worried you that your issues were apparently that bad, but you took it anyway.
“I like you two,” Steve said. “A lot, actually. I’m very happy to help you out,”
He wasn’t lying. He’d been lusting over you for the whole session, his cock growing hard at how desperate you were to get through to Mike, even willing to do the work on your part. You were such a sweet, attentive little girlfriend, and yet Mike seemed like a total loser. Utterly powerless.
The pair of you were still sitting down as he got up, walking around to stand behind you and place his large hands on your shoulders. He smirked as Mike looked at him, ready to argue, whilst you seemed uncomfortable.
“I’m going to use Y/N here as an example,” he said, instructing you to stand up. He didn’t even bother to ask for your permission - you were nothing but a toy. A toy and a tool to be fucked. It was going to help your issues, after all. 
You stood up, and he cupped a finger under your chin so that you looked into his eyes, his gaze intense and unwavering.
“Strip,” he said, and your eyes grew wide.
“Y/N, don’t  —“ Mike interjected, sticking out a hand defensively, but Steve stopped him.
“That’s your problem, Mike. Stop trying to be the hero,” he said forcefully. You hesitated before squeezing Michael’s hand and beginning to undress. You loved Mike more than anything, and wanted to move towards the next stage of your relationship. 
Mr Raglan knew best.
As you undressed, you noticed a visible bulge in Steve’s pants, and Mike, though quiet, seemed to be developing one too, but hid it with his hands. Their eyes were filled with lust, and Dr Raglan seemed to hum with approval as he took in your semi-nude body as you assumed your position on top of his desk.
You were undressed all for him; naive and exposed to what was about to come. 
He was ready to fucking consume you.
But he had to be professional.
“You see, your intimacy problem has nothing to do with her, and everything with you,” he said, pointing at Mike. “She’s such a cute little thing with a body just begging bred. Any man would be lucky to have her…And yet you can’t appreciate something good. Why is that?”
Steve smirked as he saw your legs twitch at the mention of breeding, and he looked between the pair of you knowingly. Mike seemed unresponsive, whilst you were like a deer in headlights.
“You’re building it up too much. You keep thinking things are going to be mind-blowing, and that you’re going to be the best she’s ever had, but in actuality it’ll probably be average. You need to learn to live with being disempowered,”
You glanced over worriedly at Mike. Perhaps the loss of his brother was the root of the deeper issue?
“Has he touched you here?” Steve said, his large hands reaching to massage your breasts. His hands were cold whilst your chest was warm, causing your nipples to harden against his touch. The older man chuckled, rolling the bud against his fingers before he tugged them, showing them off to your boyfriend. He’d barely done anything, and you were responding to him so well.
“Y-Yes…” 
“Do you usually get turned on so quickly?”
“I’m not—“ you protested, trying to ignore the growing heat between your thighs. “—It’s just because your hands are cold,”
“Sure. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said mockingly. “How about you have your boyfriend come warm you up?”
You looked over pleadingly at Michael and he obliged, getting up to place his hand on your other breast, but not without giving Dr Raglan a side eye, to which the older man brushed off. You stared up at them with glassy eyes as they fondled your breasts, with Mike’s touch more gentle compared to Steve’s pawing. You weren’t oblivious to Raglan’s now hardened bulge either, as he pressed his groin into the bare skin of your knee, teasing you with what was to come.
“Doesn’t look like you’re doing a good job there, Mike,” he said matter of factly. “Unsurprising, considering everything I know about you. Let me show you how to take care of business,” 
His bigger frame pushed Mike to the side, and you could see him clench his fists in frustration. Steve stared down at you hungrily, one of his hands sliding past your breast to grab the base of your neck; squeezing it ever so slightly as his other hand made its way to your panties. He spread your legs so that you were on display, his thick fingers rubbing against your slit through the material. 
“I bet I can make her cum just from my hands…” he said, staring down at Mike who remained in his seat. As much as he hated watching a perverted older man like Raglan touch you, part of him was actually enjoying it. He knew you were hot, and to see someone making you feel as sexy and liberated as you deserved made him feel good in turn. Perhaps the Doctor was right - he needed to be comfortable feeling powerless.
“You said you’ve tried oral sex, correct?” Steve said, clearing his throat. You looked up at him and nodded shyly, and he tutted.
“I want you to say it,” he insisted, briefly removing his hands from your panties. “Tell me what you do to him,”
“Um —“ you said, flustered from the sudden loss of pressure. “I touch him through his pants first. He’s usually hard then, so I take it out — I don’t suck him off immediately, I like to keep it going with my hands…” 
Steve began to unbuckle his belt before pulling down his zipper and taking out his cock through the hole, beginning to stroke it lazily as you droned on about trying to please your boyfriend. He was aching to see you in all the degrading positions you’d put yourself in for Mike’s benefit (to no success), even more so at the prospect of being in front of him. 
“Show me,” Steve groaned, positioning his cock towards your face. “Give me everything you’ve been craving,”
You abided by his words and stroked him, moaning as he resumed his motions on top of your panties. He was bigger than Mike, and you could feel him throb in your hands with every tug, desperate to penetrate your lips. You remained like this for a moment before the older man pushed your panties to the side, the cool hair sending shivers down your hot cunt. Steve greedily pushed two of his lithe fingers inside of you, grunting at the sensation as he felt the insides of your thigh on his arms, grazing his hairs ever so slightly.
“She’s fucking dripping,” he laughed, staring Mike in the eye. “She feels so good down here. I wonder how her mouth feels —“ he stated, and angled your head around his cock. You took it in your mouth instinctively, eyes widening in shock as he hit the back of your throat unexpectedly. Steve was almost completely feral; wasting no time in thrusting deeper into your mouth whilst his fingers explored your fold, making sure to rub your clit.
“—Like heaven,” he purred, and it was as if something deeper had arisen within him. “Don’t be shy Mike. You should get in on this,” he teased, giving the younger man all but two seconds before focusing back onto you. You were mewling and writhing under his power, and if he were a teenager he probably would’ve cum right there and then. Luckily for him, he was a man now.
Mike obeyed, and quietly made his way between your legs, watching in awe at the way your juices coated the man’s fingers. It looked heavenly; and it killed him to think he was missing out. All he ever wanted to do was please you.
He unzipped his trousers, freeing his cock so that he could touch himself. He inched towards your spread pussy, one hand on his cock and the other keeping your panties out of the way and practically dived in, eagerly lapping at your folds, causing Steve to hum in amusement.
The sensation was painfully overwhelming, with Steve’s fingers now rubbing at your hood, and Mike’s lips licking and sucking on your insides. It was beyond pornographic, and you wondered whether this was genuinely helpful or just a self-serving ruse. 
“Ugh,” you moaned, and pushed Mike’s head deeper into you, prompting yet another reaction from Steve.
“Seems like he can do something well, hm? I suppose this is the part where everything goes to shit?”
“For your information, I never said I couldn’t make her cum,” Mike snapped, staring daggers into Steve as he momentarily drew himself away from your cunt. 
“I’ll admit –” he began, stopping to groan as he began thrusting faster into your mouth, your cheeks hollowing around his cock and nose repeatedly making contact with his pants, “--That’s impressive, but it’s child’s play. You’re a child, Mike. She needs a real man…” 
Even though it was wrong, your pussy twitched around Mike as the pair bickered; using your body like a ragdoll. You weren’t a person to them, but a vessel, and it was sparking something within Mike that you hadn’t seen, licking along your folds and up towards your clit, flicking his tongue upon the nub as two fingers pumped into you. All he’d needed was a bit of ‘friendly’ competition.
“Mike —” you whimpered against Steve’s cock. “I’m gonna —”
“Get off her, Mike,” Steve commanded, and the younger man obeyed, his frustration growing deeper. The Dr drew himself from your face, leaving a trail of spit against your swollen lips.
“That’s not how this is going to go –” he stated, guiding your body so that you were spread flat on top of his desk, your legs dangling off of the sides. Steve towered above you, and even though Mike was in the room you felt like a shrew underneath his predatory gaze, waiting to be devoured. You stared up at him with wide eyes, and you almost came as he smiled down at you, a large, calloused hand rubbing along the sides of your body, spreading your cunt effortlessly with two fingers and admiring the mess you’d made.
“--I’m gonna fuck her, and you’re gonna watch. Got it?” he said forcefully, staring Mike down. “Don’t try to save her, Mike. She doesn’t need saving. Let it go,”
Mike nodded, and Steve barely gave you any time to react before he thrust into you, practically gasping at the hot, wet sensation against his aching cock. His grip on your legs were firm, slinging them around his waist so that he had full control over you, relishing in the sight of your breasts moving with every motion, and your mouth agape as he filled you up. Mike was stroking himself, his face flushed as he watched you intently, completely inebriated on oxytocin. There were no sympathetic smiles or gentle hugs when he couldn’t ‘perform’, but a different person entirely - the sex goddess you deserved to be. It was dirty, and so very wrong, but he was enjoying every moment.
Steve’s thrusts were getting faster now, to the point that you could feel his thighs slap against your own, much more his heavy balls against your aching pussy, causing the desk to creak. His eyes darkened as one hand made its way to your throat, squeezing ever so slightly as his cock seemed to hit at you from every angle.
“You like this, hmm?” he cooed, a large smirk wiped across his face. “Getting fucked by an older man whilst your mess of a boyfriend watches? He can’t make you moan like I do, huh?” 
You could barely answer, but managed to shake your head.
“Hm, you’re pretty fucked up, aren’t you? I think you and I should have a little private session n’ work some of those issues through…”
You moaned louder, and Steve let out a gleeful cackle before looking over at Mike, who was in a daze. 
“I consider myself a fair guy. Get over here,” he gestured to him, and once he was there you took Mike’s cock in your mouth, helping him finish what had been started. He threw his head back as you eagerly licked and sucked on his tip, using your hands to stroke his base and steady him in your mouth. 
You’d reached complete overstimulation; and you could feel a familiar heat pooling in your stomach, your body instinctively beginning to grind itself on Steve’s cock. Mike drew himself deeper into your mouth, briefly making you choke at his desperate motions, and Steve placed his hands onto your hips, holding you down and beginning to fuck you mercilessly.
“Touch her,” he ordered, and Mike began rubbing your pussy in circles, adding to the unfathomable feeling. “Feel how much she’s trembling because of me. She’s such a slut, you know that? You might own her heart, but I own her pussy – Fuck – She’s perfect...”
The sound of his throaty voice made you unravel, and you threw your head back as you came, desperately pulling Mike into a kiss as you did. It was euphoric, made all the more otherworldly when Steve said a certain few words:
“I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fill this pretty pussy up real good, like a real man does. Didn’t you see the way she begged and moaned for me? Our pretty little fucktoy —”
He came with a loud groan and his glasses almost slid off of his face as he lurched forward whilst his fingers left marks on your skin as he held you down to pump his hot, heavy seed into your aching hole. You were both sweaty, and you felt your eyes flutter shut from the exhaustion. As Steve rode off his high he drew his hips back, watching his seed slowly drip out of you and onto his desk. 
Smirking, he caught his breath before walking over to assume Mike’s position at your mouth, looking down at him expectedly.
“It’s your turn. I hope you don’t mind the mess I’ve made,”
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@dij-ology
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bangarangdarling · 1 year
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blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so
Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.
Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.
Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.
Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 
Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 
Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.
Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 
Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 
It was the proverbial straw. 
“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”
Nothing. 
“HEY!”
He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 
Silence rang for a beat.
Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 
The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 
Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 
Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 
It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.
But, see. That just gave him an idea. 
Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 
“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 
He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 
“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 
“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”
It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 
“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”
“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 
Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.
“Yeah?” 
“Can you come here?” 
The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.
“You tired?”
“Uh, no. I’m fine--”
“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 
There was a countdown, three, two, one...
A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 
“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”
“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 
Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 
“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 
Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.
“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.
God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 
Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 
Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 
“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 
“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”
“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 
“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 
“You guys, let’s just go already,” 
“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 
The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 
It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.
What can he say? He’s a weak man. 
“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 
“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 
A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 
The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 
The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 
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pyro-chaos · 8 months
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Mike Schmidt x Reader
Pt. 1: And They Were Roommates…
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Summary: Prologue. How it all started.
Or, Mike and you develop the foundation for a relationship.
Tropes: Fluff, angst if you squint,
And they were roommates…
Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.
A/N: I’m actually super proud of this one haha, feedback is never required but appreciated anyway!!! Thank you!! Enjoy your read
-———-———
Mike knows you, but not well.
You live in a nicer house than his. Abby likes how your TV has more than just the news channels.
Max stopped answering Mike’s calls, and his aunt wasn’t around anymore.
You’ve babysat Abby before, but only briefly. Times that Mike needed to go to a job interview or pick up an extra shift and he couldn't find anyone else. Planned situations.
You were a last resort. He didn’t mean to overbook himself, but he did, and now he’s desperately hoping you won’t turn down a few extra dollars.
You answer Mike’s frantic knocks with wide eyes. You still have your work uniform on, and Mike has to actively suppress his wince.
“I’m so sorry,” he feels Abby squeeze his hand, “I didn’t know who else would be available.”
Mike doesn’t even try to suppress his relieved sigh when you wave him off and usher Abby inside. You - albeit awkwardly - invite him in, but he’s already running late.
You ask when he’ll be back for Abby, but he doesn’t know, so he says, tonight, I’ll call you and speed-walks to his car; tail tucked so far between his legs that he almost feels like crying.
When he returns to your home, he thanks you with a check and assurances that it’s just a one-time thing, and he couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be willing, but you just smile and offer him some dinner leftovers.
Then, a man walks in with a paper plate wrapped in saran wrap, and Mike feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand. You introduce the man as your boyfriend, Mike shakes his hand, but he’s practically choking on the air of judgment surrounding Oliver.
So that’s how you can afford a place like this.
Abby sleeps on the drive home, and Mike thinks about you.
Mike met you at work; maiding for a cleaning company for rich snobs. He…didn’t mind the days he worked with you. The manager often paired the two of you together for large estate-wide projects.
You never complained when he needed to bring Abby to work. If anything, you seemed like you had more fun on days he brought his little sister.
You asked Abby questions about her interests and even shared some of your own. Mike even once caught you packing extra frosted Animal Crackers from the lobby.
Sometimes, Abby would drag Mike into games of three-person hide-and-seek. Most often, he got stuck seeking. You laughed a lot on those days.
You even defended Mike when the manager wrote him up for not controlling his child.
He remembers apologizing with coffee for getting you written up. He also remembers you assuring him that, “the client needs to calm the fuck down. It’s not like we knocked over an Urn.”
He remembers how you made him chuckle.
The manager doesn’t pair the two of you up anymore. Mike would have to ask his co-workers to change shifts with him if he wanted to see you more often, but asking sounds awkward.
You corner him in the office during shift change the night after you babysit Abby. You ask if he wants to go meet for coffee during the break hour, your treat.
He wants to say he’s busy. The words rest on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t know why you want to do him another favor. You're making him feel jumbled and awkward.
But then you mention the food, and I’ll meet you in the lobby if you want to carpool, just slips out of his mouth.
A big part of Mike thinks he offered to drive because he feels guilty for interrupting your evening. He doesn’t want to spend time with you, he only wants to pacify you enough to leave him alone.
The smaller part feels curious -for lack of a better term- why are you being nice? What’s wrong with you?
Mike drags his feet to meet you at the office. He hates that he’s about to give up his break for the Hi! How-are-you’s and the I’m-doing-well’s of small talk. He hates that he’s spending his energy on something so unnecessary. Plus, it’s not like he’s ever been friends with you.
He hopes that he hasn’t given you the idea that he cares more than he does.
The café is nice. It has hanging vines over the counters and windowsills. It smells like espresso and fresh soil. There’s an old-looking bookshelf right by a sunny window. It feels homey.
You buy Mike's food, and he tries to downplay how happy he gets when he has enough leftovers for another meal. The two of you talk. You ask if he has a consistent babysitter, and he dodges the question. You tell him your ‘free nights’ in case he hasn’t found a babysitter by the time he needs one, because, apparently, you have a lot of fun with Abby.
Mike feels the defensiveness creep up into his neck. The urge to bare his teeth and roll his eyes crawls into the forefront of his mind. He can take care of Abby just fine. He’s beginning to think that you think they’re a charity case. They don’t need you.
You must notice Mike tense because you change the subject. You tell him about how vinegar helps when cleaning smoke-stained walls, and the work-drama surrounding your shared boss.
His shoulders unwind, and he even adds a few jokes about bad clients. His input seems to sweeten the interaction like the honey in the tea he’s drinking.
He has fun.
He calls you the next time he needs a babysitter.
A few months go by. You, Abby, and Mike settle into a schedule. He learns that your boyfriend shares a car with you. Mike and Oliver don’t talk much, but when they do, they’re cordial.
Abby’s never complained about Oliver, but Mike can feel the simmering judgment, and wonders if Oliver has ever said anything to you about them.
Mike can’t pay you all the time. In fact, he can’t pay you most of the time, but you don’t seem to care. He wants to ask why.
You have a day job separate from the nights at the cleaning company - just like him - and the generosity you have with your time makes him feel itchy; like he owes you something, but you never bring anything up.
Anyway, he’s stuck with you. Who else would he leave Abby with on weekends and three nights a week?
You’re different today. Your eyes look glossy, and when Mike asks how it went with Abby, you just say it went well.
He doesn’t ask, but he wants to.
Friday night, you call and cancel babysitting Abby.
Your voice sounds small, and he hears you sniff a few times.
He doesn’t think your emotions are his business, but it feels like it’s the right time to ask anyway.
So, Mike asks, “Everything alright?”
You answer without a beat, “Yeah, just caught a bug from work, I’ll just need a day.”
Mike doesn’t know how he feels about the words I’ll just need a day. It feels like you’re justifying yourself. It feels like words a coworker would say to another coworker.
“I’m sorry,” you finish. It’s so soft and genuine that it makes Mike’s breath hitch.
“No,” he blurts, “No need to be sorry. I hope you feel better soon,” and he genuinely does.
Mike can’t afford to skip today's shift. He’s already received too many late notices from his landlord. One more and he’ll be evicted.
He’ll probably have to work through lunch this week if he wants to make ends meet.
He doesn’t know what to do.
So, Mike does the only thing he can think of. Mike carefully instructs Abby to never touch the stove, never to go near the thermostat, don’t answer the door unless she hears their secret knock, don’t answer the phone, and to keep the blinds and curtains closed.
Abby Pinky promises to do all of those things. Mike believes her, but writes a list and tapes it to the fridge just in case she forgets.
Abby asks why she’s not going to your house while Mike prepares a quick breakfast. He tells her you’re sick as he inhales his portion.
“Does she need medicine?” Abby asks.
“I don’t know,” he puts his dishes in the sink, “she said she’d be better by tomorrow.”
“Does she have medicine?”
“Probably, she’s a grown-up.”
“Does she have chicken soup?”
Mike doesn’t know how he’s supposed to know that, but Abby sounds genuinely worried about whether or not you have chicken soup. So, he stops what he’s doing and puts all of his attention on his sister.
“She’s gonna be okay Abby, she’s just not feeling her best. You’ll see her tomorrow.”
His sister looks at the table. Her little eyebrows furrow as she plays with her food. Mike feels… a twist of ugly things in his gut. He doesn’t like that he can’t protect Abby. He doesn’t like that he’s leaving her home alone.
That night, Mike brings her ice cream and lets her stay up past her bedtime.
Tomorrow comes too soon.
Mike tries to keep his nose out of your business, but the packing boxes littering your home stare into his soul. Your car is gone, too.
You welcome Abby, and you smile at Mike, but your eyes seem vacant. You don’t look like you’ve been sick, but your eyes are puffy.
At this point, Mike knows something’s going on.
He wants to give you something, but what could he offer? He’s not sure how close the two of you are. He’s not sure what you want from him.
In reality, paying you would be the best thing he could do for you, but he can't do that. So, he keeps his head down and asks if you need anything.
You get solemn after Mike’s offer; like you have bad news that you've been waiting to spring on him.
Mike clenches his teeth. He's expecting you to tell him you're done; he hasn't paid you, and you're starting to get annoyed.
"Actually, I have a huge favor to ask"
That's not what Mike's expecting, but he can't say no without sounding like an asshole. So he says, "Sure, what's up?"
You lick your lips again, “You can totally say no. It’s kind of a lot, and I know you’re already busy, but Abby goes to school around the same time I go to work, and I’d pay you for gas money” You're fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, "Would you be willing to give me a ride to work this week?"
Mike doesn’t even hesitate, "What time do you need to be picked up?"
You bring Mike a muffin. You nurse a coffee.
You seem quieter in the mornings, but Mike is just quiet. So, interactions only occur when you need to give him directions.
It’s not necessarily awkward, but Mike still feels tense and icky at the beginning.
Picking you up in the afternoons feels better on Mike’s psyche. You talk more, and he knows where the cleaning company is, so he doesn’t have to ask where to go.
Sometimes Mike brings you left-over meals from his day job. Sometimes you bring him and Abby a packed lunch.
Abby’s enrolled in an after school program until 6pm the two nights you don’t have her. Mike has those nights off, but he still picks you up and drops you off before getting his sister.
A few weeks go by.
You settle into a new schedule. You still don’t have a car. Mike never reminds you that you offered gas money.
“Thank you” you unbuckle your seatbelt.
Mike parks the car in your driveway, “It’s no problem”
It’s the least he can do, really. But he doesn’t want to tell you that he feels like he owes you.
You haven’t left yet, and Mike’s starting to feel confused.
You sigh before looking at him, “I might be getting a roommate soon”
The words sound casual, but you’re pursing your lips and fidgeting with your sleeves. Mike doesn’t understand why.
“Sorry, it’s just, I figured you should know.” You lick your lips, “I can’t afford this place without a roommate, and I don’t feel comfortable letting Abby around someone I don’t know”
He’s grateful for that, honestly. But something in his gut still drops. He has no idea what he’s going to do without your help.
“When?” he croaks. He clears his throat, “uh when do you think you’ll have one by?”
He doesn’t have to go get Abby for another half-hour.
You shrug, rubbing a hand on your hairline, “hopefully within the next few weeks.”
He nods, he’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure if there’s anything to say.
Then you gasp so loud that Mike literally feels his heart bang against his lungs. Your eyes go bright and you look into Mike’s eyes with an excitement that makes him feel slightly overwhelmed.
“You wanna move in with me?!”
Mike spends the rest of the half-hour in your kitchen, brainstorming how the three of you can move Abby’s bed with Mike’s tiny car. Without paying for a moving truck.
He has fun.
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murdrdocs · 8 months
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i feel like mike is ALWAYS so grumpy,
him with his obnoxious sister and girlfriend is just so canon to me sigh
oh he absolutely is (also i blacked out and wrote 600 words of pure delusion ??? im so sorry i rlly have a problem omg)
first off, sleeping sans pills is a little hard for him for the first month or so. it’s hard for him to fall asleep and stay asleep, so he spends a chunk of the night just laying and staring at the ceiling where his nebraska poster used to be, waiting for sleep to find him instead of searching for it. when he actually gets up in the morning, his body just feels like he’d gotten hit by a bus, evidence of his restless night showing up all over the place.
and abby, as kind as she is, just doesn’t know when to shut up. mikes pouring them both a bowl of cereal and abby just continues talking about any and every single thing under the sun, completely oblivious to the agony her older brother is in. mike tries to be patient, he hums between his yawns as he fills her bowl with milk, he blinks lazily at her as she keeps talking. but at a certain point enough is enough and the cereal is a little stale and mike was really looking forward to a nice bowl of cereal to give him energy for the day but everything is shit right now so he ends up politely (at least as best as he can) asking abby to stop talking.
he thinks that by the time you’re supposed to come over later in the afternoon, he’ll feel better. he doesn’t have work until a few hours after breakfast, and he uses the time to take a shitty nap on the couch. a nap that’s disrupted by the doorbell ringing entirely too loud, followed by abby’s excited screech which alerts him of your arrival. he’s happy to see you, but he’s tired as shit and now he has to go work a dead end job and he can barely manage to paint an appreciative smile on his face when you walk him to his car and promise that you and abby will have fun.
by the time he gets back after work, the sun has set and it’s a few hours past traditional dinner time. the lights in the house are still on and when he enters he hears a movie playing. he’s so tired he only wants to take a shower and sleep but he knows you’ll refuse to let him do just that until he’s eaten, which ends up with all three of you at the table, you and abby having dessert while mike slowly makes his way through dinner.
he’s nodding off the entire time, and he’s sure he would’ve knocked out face first in his slice of pizza if you and abby weren’t talking his head off. you bounce off of each other like you’re playing an exciting match of ping pong, mikes head going back and forth as he attempts to follow a conversation with no real connections.
and to make matters worse, you’re both on mikes case, too, cracking jokes and being far too concerned and it’s too much for his tired head and his grumpiness just multiplies tenfold until he takes a final bite out of his pizza and storms down the hall to take a shower.
(of course, you find him when he’s slipping a shirt over his head after his shower in his room, hair dripping onto the cotton and flinging onto the carpet when he turns to look at you. he apologizes, tells you about how sleepy he’s been, and kisses you good night. but he’s still a Grumpy Guy, despite the chronic exhaustion)
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 8 months
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lover, you should've come over - m. schmidt
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a/n: you guys should have seen this one coming! as always i appreciate any likes and reblogs and hope you enjoy :) warnings: suggestive themes, big angst, lots of talk about tattoos and pain and needles, mike having horrible anxiety and commitment issues, reader is mostly gender neutral except for one thing ! tattoo aftercare, hurt/comfort, kissing word count: 3.6k summary: you get a tattoo, and it terrifies mike. mostly because he realizes how much you love him. pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader now playing: lover, you should've come over - jeff buckley "my body turns and yearns/for a sleep that won't ever come/it's never over/my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder."
Penny has done almost all of your tattoos, save for the stick and poke star you gave yourself while you were way too high to be handling that sort of equipment, and a few flash designs you’ve gotten for holidays. And usually, you keep it simple and easy, pitching a design idea and getting a finished stencil a few hours later.
But this time, you go into the shop a few months before you plan to get the tattoo and describe to her what you want. She’s shocked that you want a half sleeve—It’s a big step, she tells you, and it’ll mean sitting for a few hours while she does her work. It’ll be painful, and the design will take a few weeks to get made, because she wants to give you the best possible design.
She does good work. When you visit again in about three weeks, you put down a deposit and make an official date to get it done. October 9th.
You go home that night to your small, but warm home to find your boyfriend trying to make chicken parm. His goal all year has been to learn how to cook, not just to make things out of a box. You know a bit better how to cook, but you let him improve his skills, always providing helpful, gentle critiques.
Abby is worse at being gentle.
She’s brutal with her brother’s cooking, and even though Mike loves your gentle words, he appreciates Abby’s feedback, and just wants her to eat a full plate of food before bed each night.
Tonight, his food smells good. You mentioned about a month ago how you missed your mom’s chicken parm, and since then, he’s been reading and researching different recipes at work. Ever since he quit working at Freddy’s, he’s put down the book of dreams and has picked up cookbooks, working his way up slowly.
You tell him he’ll be making Thanksgiving Dinner in no time. You kiss his jaw when you say that, and later, he returns the favor by placing a kiss to your shoulder.
You go to him, standing in the kitchen, as he squints at the recipe book in front of him. He wears washed blue jeans, an old Foo Fighters tee shirt and a pair of blue fuzzy socks. A towel hangs over his shoulder as he mutters to himself, as he gets ready to put some garlic bread in the oven.
You’re still in your work clothes, though, it’s not as if you’re wearing anything fancy. Just a different pair of jeans, and a tee shirt with your shop’s logo on it. Your hair is messy, and you smell vaguely of dirt. The smell has become comforting to him in his time knowing you.
You step closer to him, a hand resting gently on his shoulder. He relaxes at your touch.
“Hey, Mike.” You say softly, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“Hey, how was your day?”
“Not too bad. The food smells pretty good.”
“You think so?” His voice is hopeful, especially since he’s trying to live up to your memories of the dish as a kid. It’s his way of thanking you for being so good to him while he’s gotten his shit together.
“Mhm. I’m gonna go wash up and have Abby help me set the table.” You tell him. You kiss his jaw quickly before heading off to the bathroom to scrub the dirt from beneath your fingernails. You wash your face and arms too and begin to realize how domestic this all is.
You never saw yourself having kids, and never thought of yourself dating someone who did.
And you still never think about having kids, but you did find yourself treating Abby as if she is your own. This has nothing to do with how much you adore her brother. Abby is just easy to love. You wonder if anyone’s ever told her that.
When your work boots find themselves at the end of your bed, you change into a muscle tee. You’re awfully fond of them. You find a pair of Mike’s fuzzy socks and slip them on too. You take a moment to stare at your shoulder in the mirror, imagining how it’ll look when ink covers it. Most of your tattoos are on your legs, and for a long time, this arm has been bare of any ink. You’ve been saving it for this project for years.
You go to Abby’s room and knock gently before entering. You find her painting at this aisle you got for her birthday. She’s been working on this painting for a few days now, and it’s turning out quite nice.
“Hey, Abs.” You say softly, and she puts her paintbrush down to give you this big, toothy grin. “Go wash up and help me set the table?” You ask.
“Sure.” She hums and starts to skip along to the bathroom, but you stop her at the door.
“And remember, even if Mike’s food is bad, what do we say?”
“Mm, this food is so good and not horrible at all!”
“Abby.”
She sighs.
“This is unlike anything you’ve made before, and I appreciate the effort?”
“That’s it.” You let her go wash up, and then go to set the table.
When Mike eventually serves dinner, you’re starved. You don’t care if it’s bad, or if it’s burnt, you know you’ll like it because you weren’t able to take a lunch break that day. But it genuinely looks good.
He cuts up Abby’s food and puts the plate in front of her before sitting down and looking to you two for a reaction. You take a bite, and you have to pause.
Did Mike really cook something not just edible, but… good?
Not fine, not decent, really good.
“Mike, this is—”
“Amazing!” Abby gasps, going in for another bite. His cheeks flush.
“You guys don’t have to pretend, it’s alright—”
“No, Mike, we’re not pretending, it’s really good!” You defend, going in for a second bite yourself. “Try it!”
He does, and he even looks shocked at the quality of the food he’s produced. And it sets the mood for the whole dinner, until you eventually blurt out,
“I booked a tattoo appointment for next week.”
“What are you getting?” Mike can’t ever admit this to you, but he adores your tattoos. He thinks the placement of them are all wonderful, even if they’re smaller. He likes to kiss them, to trace his fingers over them, to just admire them in the summer.
“It’s a surprise.” You tell him. Owning your own shop and being your own boss has its perks. You have no worries about people judging you for your half sleeve, deciding that you can just ban them from your shop.
Your conversation drifts off and you focus on other things. When you’re done, you and Mike begin to clean up with him, letting some of the pan soak in the sink. You sit on the counter, drying some of the plates as Mike rinses.
“Thank you for dinner.” You tell him.
“I’m glad you liked it.” Comfortable silence fills the room. “You’re really not gonna tell me what you’re getting?”
“I told you, it’s a surprise.” You smile softly. He dries his hand and steps between your legs. His hands land on either side of you, caging you in.
“Tease.” He mumbled, leaning forward, and kissing your shoulder. A hand goes to his hair, your fingers tangling in his locks.
“I’m not teasing, I’m just being a little secretive.” You tell him, playing with his hair. You’re a fan of the scruff he’s been growing out lately.
“Isn’t it gonna hurt?”
“Yeah, but I’ll take breaks and remember to eat.” You tell him. “This isn’t my first tattoo, Mike.”
“I know, baby.” He says softly, “I just get worried—”
“You get worried about me? And yet, when I’m worried about you, you ignore me but—” He cuts you off with a kiss, and your hands land on his jaw, the scruff tickling your face.
• • •
The ink swirls around your shoulder, a moth wrapping around your shoulder and reaching to the top of your arm. Vines wrap around the moth, as flowers bloom in different places. Your birth flower is one of them, as well as your mother’s. You also place Abby and Mike’s around the moth, maybe protecting it. Thorns poke out of some of the vines, and the ink covers your shoulder, and down to just above your elbow.
You got it done on a Saturday afternoon, leaving late enough so Mike could sleep in without having to deal with Abby, but being able to give them some time to relax together.
It takes a few hours, and by the end of it, you’re exhausted. As with all your other tattoos, you’re sore, but this is a new type of sore. You ache for Mike’s hands on you, to hold you and kiss your shoulders, even though he can’t kiss your left shoulder for a few days.
The second skin will remain on your arm for a day or two, and then you’ll have to go through the process of moisturizing your tattoo.
You have Penny take lots of photos of it before you head home, Mike and Abby both waiting in anticipation for you to come home and show them your new ink. You’re excited to show them, since there’s a connection to them in the art. 
When you open the door, Abby runs to you and immediately starts to look for the ink in question. She gasps when she sees it, all wrapped up on your arm.
“It’s a moth,” You tell her, “With my favorite plants.” You crouch down to point out different plans in the works. “These are my mom’s birth flowers, they’re carnations.” You tell her, “Do you know what these are?” You point to another flower.
Abby shakes her head, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the fresh, raw flesh of the person she considers to be her caregiver.
“They’re lily of the valley flowers. They’re your birth flower.” You reach out and tuck hair behind her ear. Then, you point to the third flower. “And these? They’re honey suckles. They’re Mike’s birth flower.”
Mike watches your interaction, listening to your explanation of the tattoo. Suddenly, this anxiety pools in his chest. You’ve been living together for a few months, but somehow a symbol of him and Abby being engraved on your skin makes things all too real.
He could cry.
“Did you get the flowers because you’re a flower person?” You grin, knowing she doesn’t remember the title of your job.
“Botanist, you mean? Sort of, but you two mean a lot to me, and I wanted to tribute something to you guys.” You confess.
She grins and turns to look at Mike.
“I wanna be a tattoo artist when I’m older.” Mike is pale with anxiety.
He wants to tell you it looks good, that it’s brilliantly done, but he doesn’t find it in himself. He wants to run, to abandon this relationship at the door, to never speak to you again to avoid the fact that he wants you desperately and thinks he might marry you one day.
He walks off to the bathroom, and he’s unsure if it’s to throw up or to cry.
You’re disappointed, because you wanted him to like it desperately, since this tattoo is now on you forever, and you wanted it to be a tribute to him. It almost hurts you that he doesn’t love it. Or at least pretend to. Instead, his disdain is visible on his face, and you do your best to turn your attention back to Abby.
“Wanna help me make dinner?” You smile softly, and she nods.
“Did your tattoo hurt?” She acts gently.
“Yeah, but with a good artist it goes quickly, and they don’t aim to torture you.” You explain, as you begin to make mac and cheese.
As she sets the table, you turn back to her and ask, “Can you go get Mike for dinner?” She nods and skips along to your bedroom, where Mike sits on the bed, frustrated with himself.
“Mike?” She asks gently. “We’re making mac and cheese.”
“I’m not hungry.” He says softly, and Abby can just tell something isn’t right.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t feel well..”
“Oh…” she suspects this is a lie.
“I’m sorry. Tell them I said sorry.” Tears prick Mike’s eyes. He’s unsure why he’s like this, and why he can’t just admire your tattoo and love you and tell you how much you mean to him. But he can’t. He gets the words out. He wants to love you so badly but something in him demands to not let him be happy.
He lays on the bed and tries to stay quiet as he cries.
• • •
Hours later, you sit at the table anxiously, your hands tapping on the wood, a cold bowl of Mac and Cheese on the table. You decide to get up to clean up dinner, and just as you do, soft steps creep out of the bedroom and into the kitchen area.
Mike stands and stares at the cold dinner that he feels bad for rejecting. He should just tell you what’s bothering him. Instead, his gaze turns and looks at you, doing the dishes.
“You didn’t have to make dinner.”
“You didn’t seem well, and Abby needed to eat.”
This comment sparks a much larger fire in Mike, and he isn’t sure why he’s angered by how much you care about his sister, his world.
“You aren’t her mom, you don’t have any reason to make her dinner or put her to bed—”
“Yeah, Mike, well, You’re not really her dad.” You glare. “I’ve taken care of her for months, fed her, made sure she’s taken care of, I’ve picked her up from school, and now suddenly, you’ve decided I have no right to just care about her? Fuck you, if you don’t love me anymore, then don’t take it out on your sister, talk to me like a god damn grown up and stop acting like a child.” You spit, angrily turning back around to keep doing your dishes so that Mike doesn’t see your red face or your tears.
With your back turned, he can see the moth on your shoulder blade, and he aches to trace the lines of your tattoos, kissing the skin around it. But cotton fills his mouth every time he tries to sew the gap between you two.
And your words strike him. He knows why you might think he doesn’t love you anymore, but he does. He loves you deeply and finds himself enamored with you, and yet he can’t even compliment this tattoo that you have obviously put a ton of time, effort and money into.
“I’m sorry—” You start, but he cuts you off.
“I think we should give each other some space.” The words hit you like a ton of brick, and you’re ready to get on your hands and knees and beg him, beg him to not leave, beg him to forgive you (for what, you don’t know), beg him to touch you, beg him to want you.
“What..?”
“I just think I need some space.” He said softly, leaning against the kitchen doorway. You want to ask if he’s hungry, to kiss away all the sadness in the worry lines of his face.
You nod, bite your tongue. He wants to hold you and tell you he doesn’t mean it.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.” You mumble, sighing softly. You also plan to leave early before Mike gets up.
Mike steps towards you, maybe to apologize. You step past him to go get pajamas from your dresser, not letting him grasp onto you. You don’t want him to apologize now. You want him to sit in his regret and you want to sit in your anger.
As you attempt to fall asleep that night, you pray Abby didn’t hear your conversation with him.
Both of you try to drift to sleep and salt streams from your eyes and into your ears.
• • •
A few days pass. Your tattoo starts to heal, and you take the second skin off your shoulder and arm and begin the process of aftercare.
You and Mike exchanged a total of about thirty words over the next few days. Abby noticed your angst towards each other and tried to get the two of you to make up. She figured that Mike was being an idiot, and just needed to apologize.
She was right, but he didn’t want to admit that to his kid sister.
It’s hell. You have to pretend that you don’t want to beg for his forgiveness, but you know that neither of you are blameless. Your pride tells you not to be the first one to cave. His anxiety tells him that you hate him.
When he gets home one afternoon from work, you’re napping in bed. He knows the couch isn’t that comfortable and he’s sure you’re home because you’d mentioned to Abby that you weren’t feeling well. You probably didn’t expect to still be asleep when he got home.
But you’re wearing one of his shirts. He kisses your head and leaves a glass of water and cold medicine on the nightstand, before going to make himself busy somewhere else, as if not to disrupt your rest.
He takes one last glance at you before he leaves.
One night, he comes home from work late. You take it as an opportunity to take a hot shower after putting Abby to bed and taking a few minutes to sit in the bedroom that you missed while sleeping on the couch.
Besides, your bones ached from that uncomfortable couch while you were spoiled, used to Mike’s warm bed.
You barely hear the front door open as you continue your nightly routine. You need to apply lotion to your tattoo, to keep it moisturized as it heals. But you find yourself struggling to reach your shoulder.
Mike watches you from the doorway of the bedroom, biting his lip. The bags around his eyes have grown darker since your fight.
He takes off his boots first, and then strips his top down to an undershirt, then takes off his jeans. If you weren’t so busy, you’d acknowledge how handsome he looked in just his boxers and a gray tee shirt.
The bed dips behind you, as he sits behind you. You stop what you’re doing.
“Give me the lotion.” He says softly, and with a sigh of defeat, maybe even a bit of relief, you hand him the lotion. He squirts some lotion on his hands, then begins to rub it into your skin. You shudder at the contact, and he feels tears in his eyes again. He missed you. “I’m sorry I didn’t say I liked your tattoo. I love it.”
“I’m sorry I said you didn’t love me, and I’m sorry I said you weren’t Abby’s dad.”
“But I’m not—”
“But you are her parent.”
“So are you.”
A silence fills the room.
“What happened on Saturday?”
“I got anxious when I saw Abby and I’s birth flowers on you. Like how much I loved you was just engraved in your skin, and I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t mean to push you away, I was just terrified. Terrified that you’re going to leave. Terrified that I won’t be able to protect you.” His voice cracks at the end, and he leans his head against your shoulder that isn’t inked.
Your head turns to kiss his head.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know..” he says softly, but a part of him doesn’t believe it. You and Abby, you’re the only ones who have stayed, the only ones he’s been able to save. He doesn’t know who he is without the two of you. “I’m sorry, I was such a dick.”
“Yeah, but so was I.” You tell him.
“I love your tattoo. I love all of your tattoos. All of them. I love kissing them. I’m desperate for this one to heal so I can kiss this shoulder again.”
“Thank you for helping me with it. It itches like a son of a bitch.” You tell him, a weak smile on your face. Tears stain your shirt.
“Can we go back to normal now? I’ve missed you.”
“I miss you so much.” You turn and wrap your arms around him, the warmth radiating from his body as he holds you close. You wonder if either of you will ever be able to let yourselves be loved.
You hope to let each other try.
You kiss him, salty tears mixing, as you hold him close. He’s careful of your tattoo, not wanting to scratch or hurt you. He’s gentle in a way that betrays him. He desires you in this way that transcends want or need, something that is vital, as if it were breathing.
Yet his hands remain respectful. Gentle. You’re the one that adjusts your position to be over him, as you gently push him back against the bed, kissing him deeper.
He decides he will marry you someday. That maybe the idea of being with you for the rest of his life isn’t scary.
Not when you kiss him like that.
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begginmonty · 8 months
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just. burnt out mike coming home after so many weeks of working nonstop not having time for himself and breaking down :((
hMMM poor baby
mike isn't someone to make much of an entrance when he comes home from work. usually you and abby are at the table either eating dinner or helping her with homework, or just colouring and mike comes in and always gives you a kiss and an abby a little hug or something.
this time is different. he's back on 10 hour dayshifts. you're sat on the floor in front of the sofa with abby colouring, with a cartoon in the background and mike comes home from work. you go to speak up but watch as he just puts his jacket on the table and walks to the bedroom, shutting the door. you and abby look at each other, "grumpy" she mumbles before going back to her drawing. "i'll go see with mr grumpy pants, i'll be back in a sec" you both share a giggle at your nickname before you get up and walk to the bedroom.
opening the bedroom door you find mike just sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, and you can see his body trembling a little. "baby?" your voice is gentle to his ears and you sit cautiously next to him. "whats wrong?"
"im so tired" is all he says and he lets out a sigh, wiping his face with his hand. he's crying. you've only ever seen him tear up not cry. you know he's tired and he's been working non-stop. he's not an angry-shouting man but he stands up and lets out an angry sigh, walking to his chest of drawers and taking his sweatshirt off, and he's angry and you can see tears. he pauses and puts his hand out on the drawers in front of him and he just cries.
you're very quick to swoop in behind him, and wrap your arms around him from behind, placing your head on his back and holding him. standing there for a few good minutes whilst he just lets the frustrations out in hot tears. time passes and he's stopped crying and you press a kiss to the back of his neck. "i love you, please dont forget that, i know i havent been showing you much-"
"please, its okay mike i promise. i love you" he always wants you to know he loves you and appreciates you, even in his darkest moments.
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intheupside · 3 months
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Sidney Crosby was his usual humble, appreciative self on Thursday morning after being informed that he was the Penguins' nominee for the Bill Masterton Memorial Trophy, awarded annually to the player who best exemplifies the qualities of perseverance, sportsmanship, and dedication to hockey.
No, he's not overcoming a terrible injury or health issue, and he didn't have to battle adversity off the ice. But with the work he puts into his game, there's nobody else that best exemplifies a dedication to hockey. With his role as a leader on the team, an ambassador to the game and just an overall great human, nobody else best exemplifies sportsmanship. And with him having the season he's having at age 36 -- 39 goals and 45 assists in 76 games, on a mission to drag the Penguins into a postseason spot at any cost, he's a model of perseverance in his own way.
While Crosby may not quite agree with his own nomination -- the second nomination of his career, after he was a finalist in 2013 after his bounce back from concussions -- his teammates sure think he's deserving.
"It's everything he stands for," Rickard Rakell said. "It's about the leadership on and off the ice, the time he puts into getting to the top of his game. It's obviously well-deserved."
"It's the way he carries himself," added Marcus Pettersson. "He represents the game, in a way. He doesn't only represent us, for a long time he's been the face of hockey, too. The passion that he brings, and the love for the game that he brings, he's a very, very well-deserving nominee."
As far as sportsmanship, Crosby is a model of that both on and off the ice. Off the ice, he's an ambassador to the game. He never turns down media, and is almost always available to speak in the locker room after games and practices. He's generous with his time, as exemplified in a story Brian Boyle recently shared of Crosby spending nearly an hour playing bubble hockey with Boyle's young son Declan after a game when Boyle's family was in town during the 2021-22 season, and taking the time to FaceTime with Boyle's kids when they were back home in the Boston area. He's accessible to fans, with Mike Sullivan noting that he's never seen Crosby turn down a kid seeking an autograph or looking to meet him.
"Some of the small gestures for me are the ones that mean most," Sullivan said. "Not everybody gets a chance to see that side of Sid."
Crosby is just a giver too, whether it be for teammates or complete strangers. I've seen him before in front of me on the drive into PPG Paints Arena for game nights, and he's cut across lanes approaching an intersection to get next to the median to give money to a homeless person. One of my favorite stories about Crosby came courtesy of Joseph Blandisi, who recalled what Crosby did for Adam Johnson after Johnson's NHL debut in Nashville in 2019.
"I remember that the day after (Johnson's) first NHL game," Blandisi told me after Johnson's death in October. "Crosby had his tailor in the dressing room and got Johnny a suit from his tailor as a congratulations for his first NHL game. That's a story I always tell when people ask me how it was playing with Sid, I always tell the story that he bought Johnny a suit after his first game. That always stuck with me."
Crosby reflected on Letang's win last season on Thursday, after he succeeded him as the Penguins' nominee.
"Given the fact that he had gone through (the stroke) once before, and then having to go through it again and seeing over the years how hard he's worked and what he's gone through to still be playing to a level that he is, it's really impressive," Crosby said. "It was much more deserving, probably, than my nomination."
sid for masterton 🥹
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corroded-hellfire · 2 years
Text
Where the Heart Is - Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Nancy invites you home to Hawkins for Thanksgiving break after you’ve become best friends at Emerson College. When you spend a “friends-giving” at Steve’s house with all of Nancy’s friends, you make a special connection with a certain metal head.
Note: Huge thanks to @gathered-moss and @munsonquinns for their help when I got stuck!
Warnings: language, mentions of not the best family life, mentions of sex, i think that’s it?
Words: 13.8K
[Part 2 | Where The Heart Is masterlist]
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“I really appreciate this, Nancy. Your family really didn’t have to do this.”
“Will you stop?” Nancy huffs a laugh.
The airport is crowded. Grandparents flying across the country to see their children and grandchildren, lifelong best friends getting to see each other for the first time in years, and kids like you and Nancy, flying back from college for Thanksgiving break.
The Wheelers were kind enough to invite you to their home for the holiday. Karen had heard about you for months now, Nancy having told her all about the best friend she’s made away at Emerson. When she’d heard that you didn’t have family to spend the break with, she didn’t hesitate to invite you to Hawkins.
Nancy had bumped into you in the laundry room on the third floor of the dorm building you both lived in. You had bonded over how you both disliked your roommates as you separated your warm from your cold clothes. You’ve been close friends ever since. A long hall separated your room from Nancy’s, but you’d often use the other’s space to get away from your respective roommates. Nancy’s roommate was a total slob, while yours was just an all-around inconsiderate person to occupy the same space with.
“I can’t wait for you to meet Steve,” Nancy says as you take the escalator down to the baggage claim level.
“He’s seemed great every time I’ve talked to him,” you say.
“You mean when you’ve stolen the phone out of my hand so you guys can talk about me?” she asks with a smirk.
“Well, you wouldn’t give it to me willingly! But I like him. And I know from the pictures in your room how cute he is.”
Nancy adjusts the duffle bag on her shoulder as you both step off the escalator. You follow her in, what you assume, is the right direction since you’d never been to Indiana before, let alone the Indianapolis airport. A pretty blonde woman smiles in your direction and waves her hands.
“Oh, there’s my mom,” Nancy says. She closes the distance, and her mom pulls her into a tight hug. 
“I’ve missed you!” her mother says. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home. Mrs. Wheeler turns to you and gives you a warm smile. “Hi, dear! I’ve heard so much about you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Wheeler,” you say as you shake the hand she’s extended to you. “Thank you so much for letting me join your family for Thanksgiving.”
“Please, call me Karen,” she says. “And it’s no trouble at all. We’re glad to have you.”
Luckily, both yours and Nancy’s bags come out quickly on the baggage conveyor belt, and you’re able to get back to the car and on the road for the hour or so journey up to Hawkins. Nancy and her mom chat animatedly in the front seats, bringing you into the conversation every now and then. But you don’t mind just listening to them talk about people and places that you don’t know. Seeing a mother and a daughter get along as well as they do gives you a melancholy feeling. You’re glad Nancy has such a great relationship with her mom, but it makes your heart sink a little that you don’t have that.
“So, who all is going to your thankful friend thing?” Karen asks.
“Friends-giving, Mom,” Nancy says. “It’s all of us.”
“I’m supposed to know who that includes?” Karen says.
“Mike and that gang. Dustin, Will, Lucas, Max, El. Then, Eddie, Robin, and Jonathan,” Nancy says.
“Jonathan?” you can tell by the tone of voice that her mom is surprised that Nancy’s ex is going to an event at her current boyfriend’s house. 
“Yeah, well, it would’ve been weird not to invite him,” Nancy says. “He’s back from college too, and Will and El are coming, so we weren’t going to leave their older brother out.” 
“That was nice of you guys,” Karen says. Though the comment sounds sincere, you can tell Karen wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or not. 
“It’s fine, Mom,” Nancy says, picking up on the same edge in her voice that you did. 
“Okay, okay,” Karen acquiesces. “Now, Steve is having dinner with us tonight, right?”
“Yes. He and I gotta show the out-of-towner around town this afternoon,” she says, looking over her shoulder at you with a smirk. “Then he’s coming back for dinner.”
“Have you talked to Steve before?” Karen asks, looking at you in the rear-view mirror. 
“I have,” you tell her. “He seems great.”
“He is,” Karen agrees as she pulls the car into the driveway of a pretty suburban two story.
You look out the window in awe at the size of the house compared to the small apartment back in New Hampshire that would be called your “home.” Following the Wheeler women out of the car, you pull your suitcase out of the trunk. There’s a high-pitched squeal that comes from behind you and you turn to see a small blonde girl running across the street and flinging herself into Nancy’s arms.
“Holly!” Nancy hugs her little sister so tightly she lifts her off the ground. The girl giggles and squeezes Nancy around the neck until she sets her down. 
“I’m so happy you’re here!” Holly says. Nancy presses a kiss to the top of her head and tugs on one of her two pigtails. 
“Me too,” she tells her. “This is my friend from school I was telling you about. Can you say hi?”
“It’s nice to meet you, Holly,” you tell her.
She smiles shyly at you and hides half of her face behind her big sister’s arm.
“Hi,” she says in her meek voice. 
“You can go back over and play with Dana,” Nancy tells her. Holly nods before she runs back across the street. 
Nancy grabs her suitcase and Karen leads the two of you into the house. 
“Where’s Mike?”
“Oh, the boys are having some dragon dungeon thing today at Lucas’s,” Karen says. 
“Of course they are,” Nancy says. “What a perfectly good waste of a day off school. Come on, my room is upstairs.”
You both lug your suitcases up to the second floor and into Nancy’s room. As you slip your backpack off your back, you take in the dainty atmosphere the bedroom gives off. The light furniture and collages that adorn the walls make the room feel cozy and safe, a place to escape the world at the end of the day. The Tom Cruise poster makes you chuckle and the lemon fresh scent in the space is calm and inviting.
“Just dump it anywhere,” Nancy says, gesturing to your suitcase.
She sets hers down near the foot of her bed and you lay yours in the corner of the room, careful to make sure it isn’t in the way. There are pictures tacked to the wall above your suitcase and your eyes search the photos, smiling at the fun it seems Nancy is having in them. Some show a young Nancy with missing teeth, standing next to other small girls, all draped in costume jewelry. There are some of Nancy older, with a redhead with thick glasses.
“That’s Barb,” Nancy says from behind you. There’s a catch in her voice, like she’s trying to compose herself. “She was my best friend. She, um, died when we were sophomores.”
“Oh, Nancy.” You turn to face her, your own face in a frown. “I’m so sorry.”
She gives you a sad smile and nods her head. 
“That one is Robin right there,” she says, pointing to another picture of two girls in dark green graduation gowns. Their arms are slung around each other and Nancy’s smile is infectious in the shot. The other girl has short dirty blonde hair with blunt bangs, white teeth on full display as she grins at the camera. “You’ll meet her on Friday.”
“It’s really cool that you’ve got such a large group of friends to get together with,” you say. “I can probably think of two people total from high school that I’d visit if I went home.”
“Yeah,” Nancy says with a sigh. “There were a few really rough years here in Hawkins. We all went through a lot together, which I guess brings people together.”
“The earthquake, right?” you ask, turning from the pictures to look back at Nancy. “And before that, there was that fire?”
Nancy nods and walks back towards her bed. “Yep. A lot happened in this little town.”
“Where’s my beautiful girlfriend?”
At the sound of the voice in the hall, Nancy’s mood makes a one-eighty, and her face lights up in delight. A tall, athletic boy swoops in the door and pulls Nancy into his arms. She laughs as he picks her up and spins her around.
“God, I missed you,” he says. He sets her down and cups her face in his large hands, bending down to press his lips to her. She kisses him back for a few moments before she pulls back, remembering you’re in the room as well. Steve follows her gaze to you and smiles in greeting. His smile alone would’ve told you why all the girls at their high school fell for him.
“I’m really hoping you’re Steve,” you say.
“The one and only,” Nancy says.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to make out in front of you,” Steve says. “It’s nice to actually meet you in person.
“No, don’t mind me. I’m third wheeling here. Make out to your heart’s content.” Nancy rolls her eyes playfully at you. You step forward, unsure if you should shake Steve’s hand or if that’s too formal. “Nice to see you too, Steve. Nancy was right. You’re even better looking in person.”
Steve smirks as Nancy blushes. Steve saves you from not being sure how to greet him by wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you to his side.
“I knew I liked you,” he says.
“Why do I feel like introducing you two was a huge mistake?” Nancy says, her head dropping forward in a dramatic fashion.
“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet. Wait until she meets the rest of the gang. You know how many stories we have to swap?” Steve asks her.
“Please no,” Nancy pleads.
“As someone who was invited into your house as a guest, I feel like it’s only polite to take your side,” you say, and Nancy gives you a cautiously optimistic look. “But, as a guest in Steve’s house on Friday, wouldn’t it be polite to then take his side?”
“I’m going back to Boston,” Nancy says as she stalks out of the room.
You and Steve laugh as you watch her leave. He removes his arm from around you and goes to follow her out the door but turns to you right before he crosses the threshold.
“Are there any guys I should be worried about up there?” He asks the question as if he’s kidding, but you can tell there’s a bit of true worry under his casual tone.
“Are you kidding?” you respond. “She talks about you to anyone who will listen. For hours on end.”
The smile that lights up Steve’s face is priceless, and you wish Nancy could have seen how full of love and admiration his expression was.
“We better follow her before she really does head back to Boston,” Steve says.
Nancy made it seem like your tour of Hawkins would be the most boring thing you’ve ever done. On the contrary, you found the small town quaint and quiet. It was a nice change from bustling Boston or your sketchy downtown living in your town in New Hampshire. The leaves were in crisp autumn colors, some trees shedding their coats for the impending winter. The streets were mostly empty, but every now and then there was someone bundled up in a coat and scarf walking down the sidewalk.
Steve drove you past places central to his and Nancy’s growing up there. The high school and middle school right across from it, the now-closed-for-the-season community pool, even a large white clinical looking building that made Steve and Nancy share a disconcerting knowing look. You couldn’t imagine what the gates and barbed wire fences were needed for in a town like this.
You’d already heard all about Mike from your month’s long friendship with Nancy, but from the way Steve talked about another younger boy, Dustin, you thought that he was Steve’s brother until Nancy told you otherwise. The adoring way they both spoke of him made you look forward to meeting him, though. Steve warned you that Robin could ramble on, but you assured him that you could keep up with the best of the ramblers. Eddie, who Steve begrudgingly called one of his best friends, came up in passing, as did a girl named Max. The way both Steve and Nancy talked about their friends filled you with a longing for something you never knew you wanted. You hadn’t been worried about meeting Nancy’s friends before, but now hearing how close they all were and what a tight knit group they formed, you were a little worried that you wouldn’t be accepted into their circle. You told Nancy as much that night as the two of you were getting ready for bed.
“Trust me, you really don’t have to worry,” Nancy assures you. “The hardest one to win over will probably be Max, but she’s really only about as half as mean as she pretends to be.”
“I’m not sure how comforting that is,” you say. 
Nancy slides into the covers on one side of the bed, and you slip in on the other. She clicks the lamp off as you pull the covers up to your chin.
“I’ve never once seen you worried about what people will think of you,” Nancy says. “Not even Ben when you had that massive crush on him.”
“I didn’t have enough time to care what he thought of me before I found out he had a girlfriend,” you tell her. 
“I still can’t believe he’s the only guy you’ve even been mildly interested in at school,” Nancy says. “How many others have asked you out? Six? Seven?”
“I didn’t give a shit about any of them,” you say with a laugh. “Most of them were assholes who just wanted to get laid. And the others - which were probably like two of them - I only saw as friends.”
“I mean, I’m not mad about it,” Nancy says. “This way I’m not the only one who isn’t going to the clubs on Fridays and Saturdays.”
“You could still go, you know. Just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean you can’t go out dancing with friends.”
“I know that,” Nancy answers. “But it would feel weird. All those guys are looking for are hookups, like you said. It’s like a meat market in there.”
“So, you see why I don’t go,” you say.
“But you don’t have a boyfriend,” she says.
“And I don’t want one who I’ll meet when he starts grinding on me from behind at some sleazy, disgusting club.” 
“Fair enough,” Nancy says with a sigh. 
You turn your head on your pillow so that you’re looking at your friend beside you. 
“Do you really think I’m too mean to these guys?” 
Nancy frowns at the timidity in your voice.
“You haven’t been mean to any of them. I’ve only ever seen you politely decline. Do I think you should give one of them a try every now and then? Yeah. You never know what you could be missing.”
“I know.” You sigh and turn your head back to stare up at the ceiling. “I just haven’t felt anything for any of them. I want to feel something when I look at a guy. Or think about him. But in my mind, the thought of going out with any of them seemed more boring than sitting through ten of Professor Carter’s lectures.”
Nancy chuckles at that. 
“Well,” she says. “Damn Ben for having a girlfriend then.”
Now it’s your turn to laugh as you nod along in agreement.
“Damn him.”
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It almost seemed impossible to you how conventional and simplistic Thanksgiving was at the Wheeler household. The way that Mike and Holly argued over the remote control, Holly wanting to watch the parade, and Mike - just being a typical annoying big brother, you think - wants to hog the remote to watch what he wants. How the baby of the family gets her way and sits in front of the television, watching the large balloons being escorted down the streets of New York City. That Ted Wheeler falls asleep in his chair before the parade ends and bangs and clinks come from the kitchen as Karen preps for the big dinner. This all only happened in movies, as far as you had been concerned.
Thanksgiving growing up consisted of loud drunk neighbors, the smell of burnt cooking exuding from the apartments around you, and possibly a home cooked dinner of spaghetti if your mom felt like it that year. Normal family traditions were something you never got to experience, and just getting to see them firsthand was enough to make you emotional. Of course, Nancy notices, but she would never say anything. She just tries to include you as much as she can with small, mundane tasks like helping Karen in the kitchen or setting the table with Mike.
Dinner itself was a whole new experience. A family all sitting down together, sharing a meal, and talking to one another while doing so. You could count on one hand the times your mom would talk to you as you both ate frozen dinner entrees that had been heated in the microwave. Karen apologizes more than once about her children bickering back and forth, but you enjoy it more than she could understand. It’s all so odd and appealing to you, this dynamic. A nice suburban house with the white picket fence and family dog barking at the children playing in the yard has always seemed like such a faraway thing that would elude you forever. But seeing it up close and personal, you realize how badly you want this.
After dinner is the first time you really get to spend with Mike, both of you sprawled out in the basement after too much turkey, eyes heavy with sleep from feeling so contented and full. Nancy insisted you had helped plenty and could go downstairs while she finished helping her mom clean up. Mike said he’d show you some of his D&D stuff, which Nancy groaned about and said not to bore you with. But you were honestly intrigued and tried to follow along as Mike explained how the game works. Neither of you could keep focus for long though, both wanting to crash on the comfortable furniture down there as the tryptophan from the turkey kicked in.
Mike tells you about life at Hawkins High, about his friends that you’re meeting tomorrow, and how they’re all considered nerds and geeks. You could relate on some level, as you’d been picked on for not having the best clothes or accessories as you didn’t have as much money as the other families of the students. Nancy comes down to join you and puts some Blondie on the stereo - to Mike’s annoyance - as the three of you let the food comas control your bodies for a while.
Homemade pumpkin and apple pies are served for dessert a few hours later, complete with a scoop of ice cream and a generous helping of whipped cream. The family then all gathered in the living room to watch It’s A Wonderful Life, a tradition Karen tells you that happens every year. She calls it the official end of Thanksgiving and beginning of the Christmas season. You’ve never seen the movie before now, and Nancy notices how happy and relaxed you are as you sit next to Holly on the couch and watch the classic black and white film. Her heart aches as she realizes how she’s taken these holidays for granted her whole life, not thinking about how fortunate she really is.
When you and Nancy get ready for bed that night, bellies full of delicious homemade food and hearts all warm and fuzzy from sharing the things you were thankful for at dinner, she takes a moment to give you a big hug, making sure you realize how thankful she is for you. If it makes you tear up slightly before she pulls away, she can easily pretend not to notice.
Friday afternoon is full of messes and giggles as you and Nancy prepare dishes to bring with you to Steve’s house that evening. Most everyone would be bringing leftovers from their family Thanksgivings the day before, but Nancy knew that once Mike got ahold of the food there wouldn’t be much leftover to bring. 
The green bean casserole gets in and out of the oven without issue, but once Mike smells the pumpkin pie you made baking, Nancy has to physically push him out of the kitchen. 
“You’re coming later,” Nancy reminds him. “You can eat it then.”
As the two of you get ready for the dinner, you find yourself fidgeting more than normal. The blue sweater you put on is soft and you find yourself rubbing the material through your fingers over and over. The dainty golden heart necklace you wear becomes something to fiddle with as you prepare your makeup. Nancy must notice your nerves, as she offers to do your hair for you.
“Relax,” she tells you as she gives your hair a finishing puff of hairspray. “We’re really all a weird bunch.”
“So, I’ll fit right in,” you say with a small, nervous smirk. 
“You really will,” she assures you with a smile. 
On the drive to Steve’s house, your nerves somehow dissipate. The ride through the small-town calms you. Seeing children all bundled up and playing with one another in their yards. Neighbors walking their dogs together through the colorful leaves adorning the sidewalks. It’s simple and peaceful, something you’d only ever seen in movies. 
The house you pull up to looks larger than the entirety of your apartment building back home. Granted, it’s a small apartment building, but still. The trees surrounding the two-story home give it a sense of mysticism, yet the dark exterior keeps it modern. 
There are already a few cars parked out front as Nancy pulls in behind one in the driveway. She kills the engine, and you follow her out of the car and up to the front door. You’ve met Steve, and like him, so there’s no anxiety about seeing him. But you know the other people in there are Nancy’s favorite people in the world, so it puts some unintended pressure on. 
Nancy doesn’t bother knocking or ringing the bell, just opens the front door and casually strolls in. It tells a lot about the relationship the two have, and it makes you smile as you follow her over to a small coat closet near the door.
“Hey! Thought I heard your car pulling up.”
Steve smiles as he approaches the two of you. He helps Nancy out of her coat and takes yours as well, maneuvering them onto hangers in the closet. Nancy leans down to unlace her boots, and you bend down to unzip yours. 
Voices can be heard coming from the other room, and it sounds like quite a few people are already there. Steve closes the closet door behind you as you struggle with your zipper. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a shadow enter the entryway as you manage to get the zippers down on both of your boots. 
“Hey,” you hear Nancy greet the new person in the room. 
You stand up straight, ready to kick the unzipped boots off your feet, when you look up and lock eyes with the man standing a few feet in front of you. His dark brown eyes stare right back at you, gazes locked on one another like you’ve both frozen in time. Behind you, Nancy and Steve look at each other from the corner of their eyes, both cracking a smile as you two just continue to stare.
The mysterious boy has a mass of curls that fall to his shoulders, almost as brown as his eyes. He’s wearing a long-sleeved black t-shirt with a denim vest layered over it, covered in colorful patches. He’s tall and slim, and light glints off the silver rings adorning most of his fingers. One side of his mouth tugs up in a smile, the only motion either of you makes. 
“Um,” Steve says once he can’t take it anymore. He steps forward so he’s equidistant between you two. His eyes dart back and forth, not knowing which of you to address first. “Eddie, you remember me telling you about Nancy’s friend?”
Eddie. The name runs through your mind and forces a smile on your lips. It fits him. And suddenly it’s the best name you’ve ever heard. 
“Yeah,” Eddie says, eyes still glued to you. 
“And this is Eddie,” Nancy says as she comes up beside you. She places her hand on your arm and nods her head at the curly haired boy. “One of my friends from high school.” 
“It’s nice to meet you,” you manage to get out. 
“Why don’t we go inside?” Nancy says, tugging on your arm gently. “We can all talk in there.” She notices you haven’t finished taking your shoes off yet and knocks her knee against yours to get your attention. Steve joins in her attempts to help break you and Eddie out of your trance and puts his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, giving him a light shove in the direction of the living room. 
Reluctantly, your eyes break contact with his as you look down to step out of your shoes. Nancy nudges them over alongside hers before guiding you along behind Steve and Eddie. 
The spell that had come over you is broken as loud and rambunctious younger teens shout at one another, some hanging off couches, some sprawled out on the floor, and some moving from place to place. You spot Mike on a couch, arm around who you assume is his girlfriend, as he went to spend time with her earlier in the day. 
Your eyes search for Eddie, but you’re startled by a girl coming up to you and giving you a big, toothy grin.
“Hi! Oh, I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so nice to meet you!”
“Robin,” Nancy says with a laugh. “Don’t scare her.”
“Sorry,” Robin says with an apologetic wince.
“No, it’s okay,” you assure her. “Just a lot of new people.”
“Mike, we forgot the food in the car,” Nancy calls to her brother. “Can you go get it?”
“What? Why me?”
“Oh, come on,” another boy says as he hits Mike on the chest.
“Thank you, Will,” Nancy says pointedly. 
“So that’s Will,” Robin tells you as the boy walks by. He gives you a kind smile and a wave before he ducks out of the room, Mike right behind him. “That’s El, Mike’s girlfriend. She’s sitting next to Jonathan. And the ones arguing over there are Dustin, Lucas, and Max.”
“Who is who?” you ask, looking at the three kids bickering with one another.
“Dustin’s in the hat,” Nancy says.
“Ginger is Max,” Robin adds. 
“Tall one is Lucas,” Nancy finishes. 
“Remember all that?” Robin asks.
“Maybe,” you say with a chuckle. “Guess we’ll find out.”
“How do you like Hawkins?” Robin asks. 
“It’s cute,” you tell her. “Much different than Boston.”
“Oh yeah,” Nancy agrees. 
“Here.” Mike stalks into the room and shoves the container holding the green bean casserole at his sister. 
“Such a gentleman,” Robin says. 
Nancy accepts the dish from him with an eye roll. Will walks in with the pumpkin pie and you take it from him with a thank you. Nancy leads you into the kitchen and balances the casserole in one hand while opening the oven with the other. She slides it in to heat it up, making room for it next to the other dishes inside. 
“You can just put the pie in the fridge,” she tells you. 
The refrigerator is fairly full, but you manage to find a place to fit the tin in. Nancy comes over and yanks a bottle out of a cabinet next to the fridge.
“Want a glass?” She holds up the wine bottle to show you as she grabs two glasses.
“Sure,” you say. 
Nancy pops the cork out with ease and pours a serving for each of you. The red wine flows like life’s blood and you can practically taste the dry fruitiness already. She hands you a glass and you clink them together before taking a swig. 
“Oh,” Nancy says as she lowers the glass from her mouth. “I forgot to ask Steve something. I’ll be right back, okay?”
She sets her glass down as you nod at her. Left alone, you lean back against the counter and take another sip of your wine. It’s a large, white kitchen, decorated in an array of plaid and checkered patterns. There are so many cabinets and shelves you can’t imagine what they all hold. 
“Hey, Nance, where can I - oh.” Eddie stops short in the entryway when he sees you standing there alone. A smile lights up his face and you blush at the sight. “You are not Nancy.”
“I am not,” you concur. 
He slips his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans and sidles up next to you. Arms crossing over his chest, he leans against the counter next to you. 
“Welcome to the circus,” Eddie says, gesturing to the next room where you can still hear a cacophony of young voices going back and forth. 
“It’s cool that you all keep in touch after high school,” you say. “I could tell you where maybe five people are that I went to school with. The rest? I couldn’t give a damn.”
“I feel that way about most of our school,” Eddie says. “These are the few good ones. Course, the kids are still in school. Robin’s going to Hawkins Community College and Steve and I are just working stiffs now.”
“What do you do?” you ask, taking another sip of your wine. 
“Work at a garage downtown,” he tells you. “Nothing fancy, but it pays the bills.”
“I know all about that,” you say. “I work at a coffee shop. I come home smelling like hot chocolate every day.”
“There are worse things to smell like,” Eddie says with a smile. “Once I got gasoline on my shoes and I swear, I smelled like it for a week, no matter how much I showered.”
The image of Eddie in the shower invades your thoughts and you take another gulp of wine to hide the flush on your cheeks. The urge to drop your eyes down to his arms and chest is appealing, but you manage to restrain yourself. 
“You keep drinking that quickly and your blush is only going to get worse.”
The way you choke on your wine makes you fear that some of it is going to shoot out of your nose. With your hand over your mouth and nose, you cough as some of the wine goes down the wrong way. Eddie reaches over to pat your back a few times, only adding to the heat on your face. You notice he’s smiling at you, but it’s not in a mocking or patronizing way. It’s as if he thinks you’re cute and the thought makes your head buzz more than the wine.
“You okay?” he asks. 
“M’good,” you squeak out through a cough. 
“Want some water?”
All you can do is nod in response. Eddie turns to grab a cup from a cabinet next to the sink and fills it up halfway. You take it without looking him in the eye and take a couple of swigs. 
“Better?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you say, throat recovering from the burn. The accursed dirty mind you have makes you think there’s a way I’d like him to make my throat burn. 
“Good,” he says. 
He opens his mouth to speak again when Nancy comes back into the kitchen. Her eyes go from you, to Eddie, back to you again. She raises an eyebrow and you’re unsure if it’s because of your red face, Eddie’s smirk, or if she can feel the tension in the air. 
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Fine,” Eddie tells her at the same time that you say, “Yep.”
She doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t press any further. 
“Eddie!”
A shorter boy with dark curly hair tucked under a blue and red baseball cap walks into the kitchen, head swiveling to find his friend.
“Right here,” Eddie says.
“There you are,” Dustin, if you recall correctly, says. “Will you come tell Lucas that he’s an idiot?”
“Um, hello,” Eddie says, nodding his head towards you. “Manners, dude.”
“Oh, shit,” Dustin says with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry. Hi, I’m Dustin.” 
“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “You’re the one who Steve’s adopted, right?”
Dustin’s laughter rings out in the kitchen. 
“Sometimes it feels like the other way around, but yeah,” he says. 
“Steve and Eddie share custody now,” Nancy says. 
“Don’t make me his co-parent,” Eddie says, shaking his head. 
Steve pops his head in the kitchen and rolls his eyes.
“Jesus, you guys.” He walks over and slings his arm over Nancy’s shoulders. “Leave me with them out there.”
“Isn’t Robin out there?” Nancy asks.
“She joined the argument, whatever it’s about!” 
“Lucas is saying that in Star Wars-.”
“Nope,” Steve says, cutting Dustin off. “I don’t want to hear about your little nerd wars.” 
“Come on,” Dustin whines. “You liked Return of the Jedi.”
“No, he liked Leia in the gold bikini,” Nancy corrects. 
“The one with the teddy bear things?” Steve asks.
“Yeah, the Ewoks,” you say. 
All heads turn to you and a grin grows on Dustin’s face. 
“I didn’t know you liked Star Wars,” Nancy says.
“All we ever do is talk, how did this never come up?” you ask with a chuckle. 
“Are you a nerd?” Eddie smirks at you and pokes your arm. 
“A little,” you say with a shrug. 
“Read The Hobbit?” Eddie asks.
“Alright, I’m leaving,” Steve says. He presses a kiss to Nancy’s head and turns to head out of the kitchen. The oven timer dings though, and Steve stops in his tracks.
“Dinner’s ready, Dad,” Dustin says. 
“Shut up. Go tell the others to sit at the table.”
“Wait,” Nancy says, and everyone stares at her. “Um, I mean, Dustin and I will get the others. You guys help Steve get the food out.”
“Okay,” Dustin drawls, narrowing his eyes at Nancy. 
She nudges Dustin out of the kitchen ahead of her as Steve yanks the oven door open, letting the heat and savory scents of the food waft out into the air. It’s a mishmash of dishes as Steve pulls them out one by one, setting them on the counters around him. 
“Okay,” Steve says. He closes the oven and turns it off. Putting his hands on his hips, he spins around and looks at the different foods. “We’ve got vegetables, we’ve got turkey, potatoes, breads.”
“Cranberries?” Eddie asks.
Steve snaps his fingers and nods. “In the fridge.”
“I’ve got it,” you say. 
Steve loads up Eddie’s arms with food before piling himself up. You scoop up the dishes that are left and follow the guys into the dining room. Nancy and Dustin had called everyone in to eat, and most of the seats are already taken. All that’s left are the seat at the head of the table, for Steve, and two seats situated between Nancy and Will. The way Nancy avoids your eyes as you set the food down on the table tells you that the two chairs left for you and Eddie aren't just a coincidence. 
Eddie makes no secret of his happiness that you’re sitting near one another as he grins brightly and pulls out your chair for you. You slip into it and meet Nancy’s too-innocent eyes as Eddie sits down next to you. If Steve’s wise to the setup, he shows no hint of it while he cuts pieces of turkey to be sent around the table. 
“Stuffing?” Eddie offers.
“Yes, please.”
He doles some out on your plate before serving himself, tongue peeking out of his lips the whole time. Bowls are handed across the table, plates passed back and forth from one friend to another, but eventually everyone is settled with their full plate in front of them. 
The girl named Max sits across from you and she glances up at you between bites of turkey. You give her a smile that she tentatively returns. 
“Well, damn,” Eddie says from next to you. “I knew Red for over a month before I got a smile out of her.”
Max scowls at him as she shoves a forkful of mashed potatoes in her mouth. 
“I have a good sense about people,” she says once she’s swallowed her food. “I like her. I was never sure about you. Still not.”
“Hardy har,” Eddie answers but Max cracks a smile at him. 
“Should we do that thing?” Robin asks the whole table. Everyone turns to her, most brows furrowed in confusion.
“Ah yes, Robin,” Steve says. “That thing.”
“You know,” Robin says. She gesticulates with her hands, crumbs of stuffing flying off her fork in the process. “Where we say what we’re thankful for.”
Mike and Lucas groan in tandem as Dustin drops his head into his hands. 
“We’re not eighty years old, Robin,” Steve says. 
“Oh, come on,” Robin says. She looks pleadingly at everyone, widening her eyes and jutting out her bottom lip. 
“Why not?” El asks.
You notice everyone seems to have a harder time saying no to El than they do Robin, and Steve shrugs in reluctant agreement. 
“I’ll start,” Robin says, unsurprisingly. “I’m thankful that Steve got promoted to manager at Family video.”
“Why are you thankful for that?” Mike asks.
“Because it means Keith doesn’t work there anymore,” Steve says. “And she won’t get in as much trouble if she clocks in late.”
“Still thankful,” Robin says with a shrug. She leans back in her seat and nods at Jonathan next to her.
“Oh, um,” Jonathan says, shifting in his chair. He looks uncomfortable with all the attention on him. “I’m, uh, I guess I’m thankful that we moved back to Hawkins.”
The game goes around the table until it gets to Eddie.
“Shit, there’s a lot I’m thankful for this year,” Eddie says with a chuckle. There are some murmurs of laughter in agreement around the table and you feel like an outsider for the first time tonight, not being in on some joke or knowledge. Eddie quickly takes notice of this and licks his lips. “I think I’ll go with two things, though. One, finally graduating.” Dustin and the other younger boys break into applause at this, which Eddie halts by waving a dismissive hand at them. “Two, I’m thankful Nancy brought this lovely lady over for dinner.”
Eddie turns to look at you, his smirk and statement making you blush yet again. You weren’t someone who blushed easily, and somehow this adorable metal head had managed to make it happen twice within a single hour. 
“Well, you stole my answer,” you tell him with a shy smile. 
“Yeah?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you. He rests his arm along the back of your chair and leans just slightly into your space. 
“Yeah,” you affirm. 
You miss the way Max’s eyes go to Nancy, who is grinning at the pair of you, then move to Steve, who shrugs at the redhead and rolls his eyes as if saying what’re you gonna do? 
“You’ll just have to give another one then,” Eddie says. 
He watches you as you squint one eye closed and pucker your lips together as you think. With your gaze not solely locked on him, you don’t see the way his eyes dart down to your lips. But Nancy does.
“Can I just say I’m thankful for Nancy in general, then? Because I wouldn’t have been able to stand being at school without her. And she was kind enough to bring me home with her to meet her family and all of you.” 
There’s a collective “aww” around the table as Nancy leans over and wraps an arm around you, leaning her head against yours. 
“Well, I’m thankful you decided to do your laundry in the middle of the night just like I did. Or this might’ve never happened,” Nancy says. “And I’m thankful for being able to make long distance with Steve work so well.”
A smile lights up Steve’s face and you’re struck again with how cute these two are with one another. 
“You’re the last one to go, Stevie,” Robin says. “Lay it on us.”
“Well, I’d be in complete trouble if I didn’t say Nancy, right?” he asks, throwing a wink and smirk her way. “I’m just kidding. Well, not about Nancy, about being in trouble for it. Because I am thankful for Nancy.”
“Anticlimactic,” Robin says with a sigh. 
“Are we done?” Max asks. “Please?”
“Yeah, that only took up the whole dinner,” Mike adds.
“Oh, please,” Nancy calls down the table to her little brother. “Like you actually paid attention to what a single person said.” 
Eddie leans into whisper in your ear. “I’d say we’re not always this crazy, but that’d be a lie.”
“Are you kidding? I would love to have a group of friends like this,” you tell him. “The crazier the better.”
“Oh, well then you’re definitely in the right spot,” he tells you. 
Steve begins to gather empty plates from the table, and Eddie is right behind him, sliding yours on top of his as he stands up. 
Nancy shoos you from the kitchen, saying that you aren’t allowed to help clean because you’re their special guest. So, you find your way back into Steve’s living room, where those who aren’t helping to clean are spread out around the room, either talking or listening to the music that Eddie’s turned on the radio. 
“Queen, hmm?” you say as you walk over to stand near him. 
“Yeah, I figured they’re a band everyone would be happy with,” he says as Killer Queen begins over the speakers. “Wouldn’t be my first choice, but they’re pretty good.”
“And who on earth could you possibly hold in higher regard than Queen?” 
“Metallica, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden,” Eddie starts, but you cut him off.
“So, basically any metal band?”
“Pretty much,” Eddie says, putting his hands on his hips. “Best type of music, if you ask me. But I do also like Queen.”
“Good,” you say. You plop down on the nearest empty couch and Eddie follows to sit right alongside you. 
“I’m guessing Queen is your favorite?” he asks, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.
“They are,” you tell him. “Freddie Mercury has one of the greatest voices of all time.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Eddie says. “Who else do you like?”
“A lot, actually. From Queen, to Beatles, to Elvis, to Madonna, to Black Sabbath, to showtunes.”
“Showtunes, huh?” Eddie asks with a smirk.
“I will take no disrespect of Stephen Sondheim,” you warn him. 
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. “Mostly because I have no idea who that is.” 
You laugh and the sound brings a light to Eddie’s eyes. They crinkle in the corners as he looks at you and it’s enough to make your heart stutter in your chest. 
Across the room, unbeknownst to you and Eddie off in your own little world, Nancy and Steve walk back into the living room. 
“Damn, she and Munson are really hitting it off, aren’t they?” Steve asks, making Nancy giddy with happiness. 
“Steve, you don’t get it,” she tells him.
“I know. I never thought I’d see a girl take such a shine to Munson so quickly.”
“No,” Nancy says with a shake of her head. She watches the two of you converse on the couch, him laughing at something you said, before she grabs Steve’s arm and pulls him to the side of the room. 
“There have been like, at least twelve guys who have asked her on dates back at school,” Nancy tells him. “Out of those, she probably agreed to three. And from those three dates, I think she had a second date with one of them. That’s it.”
“I’m gonna need more context clues to get me where you want me to go,” Steve says, shrugging in confusion. 
“I’ve never seen her actually be interested in a guy. Well, one, but he had a girlfriend, so it didn’t last long. She’s told me besides her one boyfriend in high school, she’s never clicked with or had real feelings for anyone before. But this!” She gestures to you and Eddie in your own little bubble on the couch. “It’s huge! You don’t know her like I do, but trust me, this is huge.”
“Okay,” Steve says, getting the hang of it. “And what about Eddie?”
“I’ve never actually seen him have a crush on someone before. Have you?”
Steve shakes his head and holds his arms out to the sides helplessly. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him talk to a girl that’s not in this room,” he says. 
“I think he likes her,” Nancy says with a grin that could only be called devious. 
“Hold on, Yente,” Steve says, startling Nancy.
“Was that really a Fiddler on the Roof reference?” she asks. 
“I manage a video store. Pretty sure I’ve seen every video in there at least twice. So, yeah. But you’ve got to slow your roll on the matchmaking. She’s going back to Boston with you in two days.” 
Nancy sighs and folds her arms over her chest. 
“I know,” she admits sadly. “But they’re so cute.” 
Steve rests his hands on Nancy’s shoulders and gives them a small massage.
“They are,” he agrees. “I don’t think Eddie would mind if you spent the rest of the semester talking him up to her, though.” 
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 It feels like you’ve only been talking to Eddie for ten minutes, but when the whines from Mike and Max come that they’re hungry and want dessert, it shocks you to find out that it’s been hours since you’d all finished dinner. 
Dessert goes much quicker than dinner, and with more efficiency. There was the pumpkin pie that you and Nancy had made, an apple pie that Will and El had baked, some cookies Max made, and cupcakes that Robin says she picked up on clearance on the drive over. Everyone wants to sample a bit of everything, but it’s hard since you’d all had a hardy meal just hours ago. Once you’re one vanilla cupcake and a slice of pumpkin pie deep, Eddie offers to split a piece of apple pie with you. He smothers it in whipped cream and hands you a second fork so the two of you can dig in together. You laugh when Eddie uses his pinky finger to put a dab of a glob of whipped cream on the tip of your nose. You go cross-eyed trying to look at it - which makes Eddie laugh - and try to stretch your tongue up as high as it would go to clean it off. You’re unable to do it though, so settle for wiping it off using your hand with a sigh. 
Though you don’t have the room left, you swipe one of the last of Max’s cookies so you can have officially tried one of everything. After your first delicious bite though, you realize there’s no way you’ll be able to finish it. You slump back in your seat with a groan, the waistband on your pants threatening to suffocate you. Tilting your head to the side, you see Eddie in an almost identical position. He eyes the cookie in your hand and opens his mouth.
“Really?” you ask with a laugh.
He just nods, keeping his mouth open. You feed him the rest of your half-eaten cookie. He licks over his lips as he finishes it, then let’s out a groan to match your previous one. 
No one feels the urge to talk or move from the table as you’ve all been re-stuffed. The music that’s still playing on the stereo in the living room drifts in over the silence of the dining room, and you smile to yourself as one of your favorite Billy Joel songs plays. It’s a comfortable atmosphere, the silence not awkward, just content as everyone basks in their food comas. 
Dustin is the first one to break the silence, which seems to surprise no one.
“We’ve got to do the secret Santa,” he says. 
“Shit, where’s the hat with the names in it?” Steve asks, slumped down in his chair. 
“I think I saw it in the living room,” Will says. He forces his way out of his seat with a strained groan, and shuffles into the other room. He returns holding an upside-down Santa Claus hat that rustles when he shakes it. 
“Oh, um am I..?” you trail off, looking at Nancy.
She nods. “I put your name in there. I figured you could always ship your gift and your gift can get shipped to you if you’re not here for Christmas.”
You haven’t even thought about what your plans would be for Christmas this year. It wasn’t usually a pleasant time of the year for you and college had distracted you from the fact that you’d have to be at home for the holiday. It sounded about as appealing as walking back to Boston from Hawkins, butt naked. 
Will sits down with the hat and places it on the table in front of him.
“Should I start?” he asks. 
“Might as well,” Dustin says. “Remember the rules. You can’t pick your own name. And you can’t pick a sibling because you’ll probably be forced to buy them something anyway. Oh! Also, no couples,” Dustin says, eyeing Steve and Nancy before Max and Lucas. “We all know you’ll be buying each other things too.” 
“We got it, Henderson,” Steve says. He gestures to Will. “Let’s get it going.”
Will draws the first name and smiles to himself. He’s careful not to look at anyone around the table as he slips the small piece of paper in his pocket. He slides the hat over to El, who in turn draws hers. She frowns when she sees the name and replaces it to pick another one. The hat travels along the table, with Mike also having to select a second name, and ends up at Nancy. She selects her rolled up paper and holds it close to her chest so she can read it. She chuckles and holds the paper in her lap as she slides the hat over to you. You reach in and pull out the first scrap of paper your hand touches. Copying Nancy’s movements of holding the paper close, you take a look at who you’ve drawn. “Max” the paper reads. Nodding to yourself, you slide the hat down to Eddie, who has the final pull from the hat. 
“Good thing I don’t have the sibling or girlfriend option here since I’m drawing the last one,” Eddie says as he sticks his hand inside. “As long as it’s not me, we’re good.” He peeks inside the little white paper before folding it up and putting it in his jacket pocket. “Not me. We’re good.”
Dessert is also an easier clean up, so Nancy lets you help this time around. It only takes a few minutes, then you’re strolling back into the living room, where your hand is quickly picked up by someone coming up alongside you.
“Hi,” Eddie says with a smile, as if it’s been a while since the two of you spoke.
“Hi yourself,” you respond as you adjust your hand in Eddie’s grip. His hand is strong and warm, and you can feel the gentle rub of calluses. He leads you over to a different part of the living room than where you were before. There’s a small nook towards the back of the room, where someone could sit and look out of a pale stained-glass window into the backyard. Today was so cold though, that the window was frosted over, giving a romantic feel to the small area. 
Eddie sits down on the cushioned seat and pulls you down right along next to him. You’re sitting hip to hip, knee to knee and he still hasn’t let go of your hand. The colder air closer to the window is all the excuse you need to lean into Eddie’s side. He also takes the chill in the air as an excuse to wrap his arm around you, tucking you even further against him. You let your cheek rest against his shoulder, and it doesn’t take long until Eddie rests his head against your own. The silence is companionable as Eddie rubs his hand up and down your arm. 
After a few minutes of sitting this way together, Eddie dips his head down to press his lips close enough to your ear that you can feel them brush your skin as he whispers to you. 
“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks. 
“Mmm,” you hum in confirmation, eyes staying closed. From his angle he can’t see the smile you’re fighting to keep off your face.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” 
Moisture instantly gathers behind your closed eyes at his words. You blink a few times to expel them before you tilt your head up to look at him face to face. 
“Is that so?” you whisper back. 
“Cross my heart,” he replies. 
This time the smile doesn’t stay off your face, no matter how hard you try. 
“You’re an incorrigible flirt, Eddie Munson.”
“How can I not be? Usually, I’d have to take the time to psych myself up to flirt if I had just seen you around town. But no time for that when you’re leaving soon.” 
He pouts adorably at the way his words cause a frown on your face.
“Nancy did tell you that you guys have to go back, right? Or was this really a kidnapping ploy all along?” 
You giggle and it brightens Eddie’s whole face. It also gives him the courage to lean down and press his lips softly against yours. You gasp into the kiss, not expecting it, but quickly compose yourself enough to kiss him back. He pulls away just a little and it gives you the opportunity to sit up straighter, giving the two of you a better angle for your next kiss. He delves in and cradles the back of your head with his hand, the other snaking around your waist. One of your hands cups Eddie’s cheek as you kiss him and the other rests firmly on his chest. 
Eddie’s tongue swipes across your top lip and you don’t hesitate in opening your mouth to him. His arm around your waist pulls you impossibly closer to him until you’re half on his lap, the kiss getting deeper by the moment. In many ways, it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. Not only is Eddie a talented kisser, but you can feel the emotions behind the kiss as well. Eddie slides his hand from the back of your head to cup your jaw, tilting his head to kiss you at a slightly different angle. There’s longing there, it’s melancholy and addictive. He tastes like the pie you shared mixed with cigarettes and taste that could only be explained as Eddie. 
Your fingers tighten on his shirt, bunching the black material into your hand. The hand that was on his jaw has snaked around to bury itself in the curls at the base of Eddie’s neck. He manages to maneuver both of you so he’s lounging back against the cushions of the seat, and you’re on top of him, chest pressed to chest, and legs tangling together as you let out a soft moan against Eddie’s mouth. 
The sound only encourages him, his kisses becoming more impassioned and messier. Not that you mind. You’d be happy if he spit in your mouth, but you figured that wasn’t something he needed to know on day one. 
Sense of time is all but gone and you’re only reminded that there are other people in the room - albeit on the other side of it, with you two not directly in view of them - until someone, by the sound of it, Robin, starts speaking at a volume way too high for indoors. She starts to babble on and on, voice raising with every statement she makes. Both you and Eddie find it amusing, as you pull away from one another’s mouths with small laughs commingling in your shared breath. 
Eddie reaches up and tucks a piece of hair that’s hanging in your face behind your ear. 
“In case you haven’t realized,” Eddie says softly, keeping you two in your own private moment. “I really like you.” 
“Well,” you say, still trying to catch your breath. “In that case, I hope you’ve noticed that I really like you too.” 
The grin on his face makes your labored breaths even quicker as his eyes gaze into yours. You rest your forehead against his and let your eyes fall closed. 
“Can I see you again before you leave?” Eddie whispers. 
Leaving now sounds like the worst possible thing you could endure. Boston is a great city, and you love almost every aspect of it. The food, the sports, the people, the weather. But it doesn’t have Eddie. 
“Yes,” you answer him. “We leave Sunday afternoon. Steve is taking Nancy and I out for breakfast before he takes us to the airport. Would you maybe want to come?”
“I’d like that.” 
“Me too.”
Loud clapping hands come up behind you and the quiet intimate moment you’ve been having with Eddie dissolves around you. 
“Okay, lovebirds,” Robin says. “Time to get a room. Preferably the guest room at the Wheeler house.”
“We don’t have a guest room,” Nancy says. “She’s bunking with me.”
“Sorry, Eddie,” Robin says. “That means there’s no room for you on that bed.” 
As everyone says goodbye for the night, you stand a little off to the side. Sure, you’d become one of the gang over the course of the evening, but that still couldn’t touch all the history and familiarity that the others had with one another. You get hugs from most everyone, including an unexpectedly tight one from Max. Will tells you repeatedly that it was so nice to meet you and you understand why Nancy was so excited to be with this group of people. They’re all kind, caring, and most obviously of all, they’re all so dedicated and loyal to one another. 
Steve gives you a hug that’s just as tight as he’s given everyone else, and it could bring tears to your eyes how included you feel. You take a deep breath before you give you your final goodbye of the night. Eddie wraps you in his arms and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. His arms feel so secure around you and the warmth that you feel when you nuzzle your head into his neck is enough to make your heart burst. 
“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” he asks.
“Soon,” you confirm. 
He presses another kiss to your lips before reluctantly letting go. 
Mike is crashing at Lucas’s tonight, so it’s just you and Nancy on the drive home. Nancy has barely shut the driver’s side door before she’s turning to you with the look of a cat that’s about to pounce.
“I have never seen you like that!” she gushes at you. 
You shrug, glad for the dark night outside to hide your reddened face. She starts the car and pulls out of Steve’s driveway, but the conversation isn’t over. 
“You guys were so cute,” Nancy says. “You like him?”
Looking out the passenger window at the dark trees that go past, you smile so Nancy can’t see it. 
“I really like him,” you admit. 
Nancy coos over your admission as she pulls out onto the main road in Hawkins. 
“I could tell!” Nancy gloats. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.”
“You weren’t very subtle at all, forcing me to sit next to him at dinner,” you tell her. 
“Are you complaining?” she asks.
“No,” you admit bashfully. 
“I didn’t think so.”
“I asked him if he wanted to come with us to breakfast with Steve on Sunday. Is that okay?” you ask.
“Of course,” she assures you. “He’s a great guy, really.”
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 Nancy pulls her car into the driveway and you both enter the house quietly; Holly and her parents having already gone to bed. You gather your pajamas out of your suitcase and tell Nancy you’re going to take a shower when the shrill ringing of the phone on her nightstand makes both of you jump. She quickly grabs the receiver before the noise can wake anyone in the house up. 
“Who the hell,” she mumbles to herself as she looks at the clock, reading almost one in the morning. “Hello?” she asks. There’s a pause and Nancy rolls her eyes as she listens. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
You giggle quietly to yourself as you watch her become exasperated. Clothes clutched to your chest, you gesture down the hall to let her know you’re headed to the bathroom. She nods at you as she listens to the person on the other line.
The hot shower invigorates your skin that had grown dry in the cold autumn air. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you let the warm water run down your skin, relishing in the relaxation and calming aroma of the minty shampoo. As your fingers work through your hair, you recall the feeling of Eddie’s hair in your hands. The soft curls at the base of his neck you toyed with as you kissed. Thoughts begin to churn in your mind of Eddie joining you in the shower, but you don’t want to turn this into a cold shower, so you try not to let your mind wander down that path. 
Using the towel to wring the excess water from your hair, you make your way back to Nancy’s room in your pajamas. The oversized t-shirt and plaid bottoms were so comfortable that you could hardly wait to curl up in bed. But when you walk into her room, Nancy hasn’t pulled the blankets down or even changed into her own pajamas. She’s changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt, so comfy clothes, but not ones for sleep. 
“What’s going on?” you ask. 
“Guess who was on the phone?”
You’re about to admit that you have no clue, but with the way she raises an eyebrow at you, you think you get the idea.
“He didn’t,” you say with a laugh. 
“Oh, he did. Wanted to know if he could come over,” she tells you.
“What?” you ask, just as there’s a knock on Nancy’s window. It startles you, but Nancy seems to have been expecting it.
“Your Romeo,” Nancy says, her head nodding to the window as she goes over to open it. She slides the glass up and Eddie stumbles in, landing clumsily as he trips over one of his own boots. Nancy shakes her head at him, and he spins around to face you, eyes instantly lighting up and an infectious smile curling his lips. 
“What are you doing?” you ask as you walk over to him. You wrap your arms around his middle, the cold air sticking to his leather jacket making you shiver. 
“Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair as he presses kisses to the top of your head. He quickly sheds the jacket, not wanting to make you cold, then retakes you in his arms, the warmth of his red flannel giving you the intended warm effect. 
“You saw me an hour ago.” Your face is smooshed up against his chest, but he understands you anyway. 
“I know. An hour,” he says. “And you’re leaving soon so I wanted to spend all the time with you I could.” 
“He gave me the same speech,” Nancy says from behind him. “He’s lucky I’m a romantic and caved.”
You peek around Eddie to give her a grateful smile, which she returns with a wink. 
“I’m going to take a shower,” she says. “But I will be back.” She gives a pointed look to Eddie as she heads out the door, closing it behind her.
You hop onto Nancy’s bed and open your arms for him, which he happily falls into. He climbs on the other side of you, kicking his boots off as he goes, and tucks you against his side. 
“I like your pajamas,” he says. “They’re cute.”
Burying your face in his chest, you nuzzle your nose against his sternum.
“Didn’t expect company, so I dressed for warmth,” you say. 
“Cold?” he asks, wrapping his arms tighter around you.
“Not really,” you say. “But keep holding me like that.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
You tilt your neck up, pressing soft kisses along his jaw. His hand rubs up and down your side and your body fills with a warmth that has nothing to do with the temperature. 
“Can I ask you something?” you whisper against his skin.
“Anything,” he answers. 
“What did you mean before?” Your fingers play with the hem of his flannel as you run the tip of your nose up to behind his ear. “At dinner. When you said there’s a lot for you to be thankful for this year.”
His body shifts underneath you and you pull back to look at him. He avoids your eyes as he adjusts his grip around your waist. You rub your hand over his chest, leaning down to press a kiss against his collarbone.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you say, sensing his mood change. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, no,” he says, shaking his head. He lets out a sigh and presses his lips against your forehead. “It’s just a long, shitty story.”
“If you want to tell me, I’ll listen,” you assure him. 
This makes him smile and he leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss.
“Okay,” he whispers against your lips. “I’m going to start off by saying I’m innocent though, okay? Just to preface this fucked up tale.”
You nod even though your brow scrunches up in concern. Not that you don’t believe him, but it hurts to hear that he was wrongly accused of something. 
“There was this girl at school,” he starts. “Her name was Chrissy. She was a cheerleader, queen of the school. One day she asked to talk to me, which was weird in itself.”
The frown on your face is involuntary as you picture - what you can only assume is a pretty - cheerleader all over Eddie. He notices the look and runs his thumb over your pinched forehead as he lets out a soft laugh.
“Aw, are you jealous, baby? Don’t be. It was nothing like that. I mean, in complete honesty I did have a crush on her in middle school, but that was forever ago.” He presses a kiss to your now relaxed forehead before continuing on. “I used to sell drugs at school, and she wanted some pot. So, I told her when and where I’d meet her for the deal. When the time came, she was all jumpy and seemed paranoid. I tried to calm her, and it worked a bit, but she ended up asking if I had anything stronger. I didn’t with me, because I wasn’t stupid to be busted on school grounds with anything harder than weed. There was a basketball game that night and I had a hellfire meeting - you know, the D&D club I told you about after dinner. Anyway, so I told her I’d take her back to my place afterwards and I’d get her something then.” Eddie chuckles as he feels you tense up in his arms at his last statement. He presses soft and sweet kisses down the side of your face. “Can I just say that I love how you’ve only known me for a few hours and are already jealous at the thought of another girl alone with me?” 
You huff playfully and hide your face in his neck. It only causes him to laugh again, and he moves his hand up and down your back reassuringly. He lets out a sigh though, as he goes on to continue his story. 
“This is where it gets weird,” he says.
Nancy pushes open the door then and both of you look up as she enters. She gives you a small smile as she creeps back into the room, shutting the door again behind her. 
“I’m just telling her about Chrissy,” Eddie explains.
“Oh?” Nancy asks, raising her eyebrows so high that they meet her wet bangs. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about it.”
He shrugs and squeezes you in his arms.
“Just going over the important parts anyway,” he says, and a look is shared between them that escapes your notice. 
Nancy nods and climbs up on the bed, resting back against her footboard and tucking her legs up underneath her. Eddie continues his story, Nancy interjecting in places that Eddie wasn’t present for, like their friends trying to find where Eddie was hiding. She talks about how she spoke with Eddie’s uncle and how after that moment she had no lingering thoughts whatsoever that Eddie could have murdered their classmate. 
“Wait, I’m a little confused,” you say when they’ve finished their story. “So, you guys went to find who the real killer was, Eddie, you got hurt, and Nancy, you knocked the guy out of a window? But he escaped? Then how were you cleared?”
“Um, there wasn’t enough evidence,” Nancy says. She clears her throat before continuing. “They eventually caught the real killer, but we have a friend in the police station. El’s dad, actually. He was able to take a harder look and proved that Eddie couldn’t have done it.” 
“So, I was cleared. And healed, thankfully. If Dustin hadn’t gotten my ass to the hospital so quickly, I wouldn’t have made it.”
You squeeze Eddie in your arms and rest your head on his shoulder. 
“So, you meant that you were thankful you were okay and that you were cleared?” you ask, bringing it all back to your original question. 
“Yeah,” he tells you. “And thankful I had these friends around me to help me out.” 
“That’s so scary,” you say. Eddie and Nancy share a look above your head, knowing you don’t know the half of how scary it all actually was. 
“But it’s over,” Eddie says as he lays his head on top of yours. Your fingers tighten in his shirt and Eddie feels like he could cry from the relief that rushes through him at the gesture. He hadn’t realized how terrified he was that you would think badly of him after the story, or even worse, think he truly was guilty. His body relaxes against yours and you press your lips to his shoulder, leaving him smiling against your hair.
You bring your hand up to your mouth to cover a yawn and Eddie looks at the clock on Nancy’s nightstand. “Shit, I guess I should let you guys get some sleep. The sun’ll be up any minute now.”
He slips out of your arms and off the bed. You follow behind him as he makes his way over to the window.
“Thanks for letting me come over, Nance.”
She nods her head at him as she slips under the covers. “Don’t make a habit of it,” she says with a playful smile. 
He gives her a salute before looking back at you. He takes both of your hands in his and brings them up to his mouth, kissing over your knuckles.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he whispers.
“Yeah,” you agree as you raise up on your toes to press your lips against his. 
Eddie kisses you softly, letting go of your hands so one can cup your cheek while the other pulls your body closer to his. Too soon, he pulls away and opens Nancy’s window. The frigid air blows in and you pick Eddie’s leather jacket up off the floor, handing it back to him. He slips it on and presses one last kiss to your lips before he ducks outside. 
“Bye, beautiful,” he says.
“Bye.” You smile at him as he closes the window behind him and scoots down the slope of the Wheeler’s roof. 
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 Saturday it was planned for the Wheeler family to take a trip a few towns over where there was a big holiday festival happening. The whole town was decked out in red and green, and the chill in the air added to the festive spirit. Mike was initially grumpy about being picked up from hanging out with his friends to spending time with his family, but he ended up happy he came after a video game that he desperately wanted was on sale at the local mall. You and Nancy shopped for some new clothes there as well, and you joined the family for lunch at a cute diner right in the mall’s parking lot. From there, you all visited the outdoor skating rink where you taught Holly how to skate, and she ended up being able to skate faster than either of her older siblings. 
Once the sun went down, you grabbed some hot chocolates to go and headed back to Hawkins for a family movie night tucked up in the house. Holly fell asleep before the end of the second movie, her hand clutched in Nancy’s and her head on your shoulder. Mr. Wheeler carried her to bed and Mike broke out a box of gingerbread cookies that Karen had tried to hide from him in the back of the pantry. 
It was a fun day, but Eddie had been on your mind for the entirety of it. You pictured modeling the clothes that you had bought for him, or him holding your hand as you skated around the rink. When you and Nancy headed up to bed, she joked that there would be no middle of the night visitors tonight, and you both fell asleep quickly. 
Sunday morning you were brimming with excitement to see Eddie, but your heart melted at the tears Karen and Holly shed as they hugged Nancy goodbye. They’d see her in a few weeks for Christmas, but it just showed how much they loved her. Each member of the family hugged you goodbye, even Mike seeming heartfelt as he did so. You’d miss being around this domestic type of setting. The nuclear family wasn’t something you were terribly accustomed to, but you had enjoyed every moment of it. 
The doorbell eventually rings, and Steve is ready and waiting there to help you and Nancy get your bags in the car. You notice a certain someone with a curly mop of hair in the passenger seat and a grin splits your face as Eddie climbs out of the car. He scoops you up in his arms and hugs you tightly before assisting Steve with the bags. The guys take you to a cute quaint restaurant on the way to the airport, and Eddie refuses to let go of your hand the moment you both step out of the car. You look through the menu with one hand, not moving your laced fingers from his grip. It proves hard to eat though, with only one hand, so you begrudgingly let go of each other. 
“What’re you doing for Christmas?” Steve asks you as he swallows a bite of his blueberry pancakes. 
“Probably nothing,” you say with a shrug. “I’ll probably end up driving back to New Hampshire to my mom’s place, but I don’t even know if she’ll be there. Hopefully I’ll get to see my niece, though. She’s my favorite person in the world.” 
“How old is she?” Eddie asks. 
“Almost eight,” you tell him. “Her and my sister live like an hour away from us.”
“I’m sure she’d love to see you,” Nancy says. She knows the shared love you and the little girl have for one another. 
Eddie steals a piece of bacon off your plate and your jaw drops open.
“Excuse you,” you say. “I’m going to need a bite of waffle as repayment, thank you very much.”
Eddie happily obliges and holds up a piece of his waffle speared on his fork to your lips. You bite it off and hum appreciatively as you chew it. 
“You two are disgustingly cute,” Steve says as he watches the pair of you. “It’s almost insane how you just met.”
It doesn’t seem like you had just met, though. The way you clicked with him so instantaneously was something you’ve never experienced before, and you know Eddie hasn’t either. You moved so naturally with one another it was as if you’d grown up together. Fate wasn’t something you particularly subscribed to, but it was hard to think of this thing with Eddie as anything else. How many things needed to line up just right so you would meet him? 
Breakfast doesn’t last long enough, and you feel yourself dragging back to the car when it’s time for the final leg of the journey to the airport. Eddie sits in the backseat with you this time and you rest your backpack in his lap as you rummage through it, looking for a pen. Once you succeed, you pull out a scrap of paper and start scribbling on it.
“Here,” you say, handing it to him. He takes it from you, and you slide the backpack off his lap. “The top one is the number to my dorm room. I have a bitchy roommate, so I apologize in advance if she ever answers when you call. The number underneath it is for my apartment in New Hampshire. I won’t be there until Christmas break, but I wanted to give it to you now anyway.”
Eddie grins as he looks at the paper. He folds it carefully, like it’s a precious artifact and not a scrap from a homework assignment you had earlier in the semester. 
“She hides from her roommate in my room, too,” Nancy adds with a smirk. “So, if she’s not in her room, get the number to mine from Steve. But not at one in the morning!”
Steve raises his eyebrows at the look Nancy gives Eddie over her shoulder.
“Wait, what?” he asks.
“You’re not the only one to scale my house anymore,” she tells him.
“You did what?” Steve looks at Eddie in the rear-view mirror with an incredulous expression. 
Eddie shrugs innocently as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. 
“I had full permission,” he tells Steve.
Steve parks his car along the curb at the airport and none of you are eager to get out. People bustle outside, lugging suitcases here and there, saying tearful goodbyes to loved ones, or rushing to catch a flight they’re running late for. You never thought you’d feel so sad returning to school. You had looked forward to escaping there from home for as long as you could remember that it seemed odd to have a place you’d rather be. 
Nancy’s the first one to break the seal, pushing her door open, the rest of you following her lead. Eddie unloads your bags from the trunk and Nancy slings her duffle bag over her shoulder as you slip on your backpack. Steve hugs you goodbye first, and you thank him for the ride and for having you over the other night. He assures you it was his pleasure, and it doesn’t just seem like a polite response; it seems like he means it. Nancy hugs Eddie goodbye as well, before launching herself in her boyfriend’s arms. 
“Shit, I’m going to miss you,” Eddie says. His arms slip around your waist, and he pulls you flush up against him.
“Me too,” you say, placing your hands on his chest. 
“I don’t think I’ll give you much of a chance to miss me,” he says. “You’re going to get sick of me calling.”
“I can guarantee you that won’t happen,” you say with a smile. 
“You underestimate me,” Eddie says, making you laugh. “Fuck, I love your laugh.”
You blush under his gaze, amazed at how he can make it happen so easily. He presses his lips firmly against yours and your arms wind their way around his neck. His hands snake up the back of your coat and it takes all your willpower not to say, “screw school” and get back in the car with him. 
Reluctantly needing air, you both pull back and Eddie rests his forehead against your own.
“I’m really glad I met you,” you tell him quietly.
“So am I,” he says. “Have a safe flight, okay?”
You nod and press one last kiss to his lips. You try to memorize the way they feel against your own and how his callused hands feel over your shirt. The scent of cigarettes is not something you ever would have thought you’d enjoy, but now you never want to be without it surrounding you. 
“Bye, beautiful.”
The pressure behind your eyes starts and you feel silly for getting so emotional over leaving someone you only met two days ago. No one has ever made you feel the way Eddie does though, so you allow yourself the grace to just feel what you’re feeling.
“Bye, handsome.”
Pulling out of his arms, you pick up your suitcase and head towards the building with Nancy. Both of you stop right as you're about to enter and give one last wave to the guys. Steve blows Nancy a kiss and Eddie winks at you as he waves in return. 
With a deep breath, you hike your backpack up higher on your back and follow Nancy into the airport.
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