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eddiesghxst · 1 year ago

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LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN - AN EDDIE MUNSON X READER AU

credit for cute lil cut off divider: @cafekitsune

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18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: eddie munson x pornstar!reader

summary: eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you

contains: strangers to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, mentions of smoking, awkward situations, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected — be safe pls), mentions of people being judgemental of readers line of work, mentions of anal, slightly exhibitionism, lots of smut, a sliver of mechanic!eddie, and eddie being the charming loser he's always been <3

word count: 13.5k (i am so fucking sorry omg)

-masterlist-

Eddie might be way in over his head.

Eddie’s been naked in front of groups of people before (the high school boy's locker room is a scary place to be, honestly), but never in those awful days of forced physical education was Eddie’s dick the center of everyone’s attention.

It’s weird, no doubt about it, standing at the front of a conference room with a table full of producers and writers and whatnot just… ogling Eddie’s naked frame.

“Can you lift your dick, please? So we can see your balls.”

Yeah. This is definitely going at the top of Eddie’s ‘weird things I’ve done for money’ list.

Still, Eddie reaches down and presses his dick up against his lower stomach to give his audience an unrestricted view of his balls.

Jesus.

“Okay, you can put your clothes back on.”

Honestly, Eddie wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Robert, the manager at Eddie’s job— well, old job.

Robert had some kind of weird fucking vengeance out for Eddie. Maybe it was because Eddie came back high from, like, most of his lunch breaks, but should that really matter if Eddie still got the job done? How coherent do you have to be to organize music records by name? Not very fuckin’ much.

Robert disagreed, though, so he fired Eddie.

Robert was an asshole, though, and whenever Eddie would nicely warn him, ‘Hey, Rob, I’m gonna be out of town next Saturday,’ Robert would still fucking schedule him to close on that exact day!

Good riddance.

Except now, Eddie’s short on rent for the month, which is why he’s found himself standing fully naked in a room full of adult filmmakers.

Eddie’s almost dropped out of this deal ten times by now. He wasn’t sure if he was keen on the idea of his bare, naked body being out for the entire world and future generations to see. But then Eddie thought about it, and, well, he’s got a pretty decent cock. It’s an average size, and it’s not weird looking or anything, and his balls don’t sag— and, like, isn’t his dick primarily the star of the show? Eddie Jr. could pass for a star, Eddie thinks, and so do the people looking at it right now.

And he also really fucking needs the money, so. Porn it is.

Whatever.

Eddie could deal with it as long as he gets enough money to keep a roof over his head. Which reminds him— “Hey, uh, how much will I be getting paid, by the way?”

Eddie’s now fully clothed, car keys in hand, and ready to go now that he’s been dismissed, and he’s scratching the back of his neck as he waits for an answer.

One of the men at the table (Eddie thinks his name is Brian, but he’s not 100% sure) glances up at Eddie from the pile of papers he’d been sorting through, “Eight hundred for the booking and ten percent from the sales.”

Which, yeah, that covers Eddie’s rent. It also leaves a little bit of change in Eddie’s pocket, so “Sweet.” Eddie nods.

So, Eddie follows one of the assistants to her office, where she hands Eddie a file with the word SCRIPT written in bold and red letters, “Read over it, practice the lines a few times, do whatever you need to do to prepare for Friday.” She kindly smiles.

She’s sweet. Short, stout, and pretty, and she has these cute glasses that remind Eddie of a ladybug. Eddie takes the manila folder, bowing his head with a cheesy smile, “Thank you, Emily.”

“So, will I be getting a costume? Do pornos still have those dramatic plots with, like, pirates and shit?” Eddie rambles as he cracks the folder open to take a gander.

Emily snorts, “Sure, but unfortunately, you’re not a pirate for this one,” Eddie glances at her and dramatically pouts, “You will be taking on the role of a neighbor. Pretty simple and easy, not much setup needed, but I’m sure you’ll see that when you read over the script.”

Eddie looked over the script as soon as he got in his van, and Emily was right: there’s not much setup at all. There’s a few cheesy lines, cliche porno shit that definitely gets skipped over, and then they go straight to fucking. Eddie tries to run his lines a few times, but then he fails miserably, so he ends up tossing the script in his passenger seat and making a mental note to look at it later.

How hard can it be?

Apparently pretty fucking hard.

It’s Friday, and Eddie’s a chaotic mess as he walks in through the doors of the film studio. He’d just spent the last 30 minutes in his van trying to practice his lines, but Eddie was never the greatest theater kid, and the lines wouldn’t stick, so he ended up smoking a joint to ease his nerves.

People are bustling around the room, calling out orders and setting up lights, mics, furniture— the whole mile. It’s an entire ordeal that Eddie has walked into, and for a second, Eddie forgets that he’s one of the actual stars when someone walks up to him and says, “You're the new talent?”

“Huh?”

“New talent. Are you the guy we’re filming today?”

Eddie glances around and catches a glimpse of a half-naked girl eyeing him from across the room as a lady fixes her hair for the cameraman. She’s pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Nice body and soft-looking skin that Eddie would like to sink his teeth into and leave pretty little marks.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m Eddie.”

“Good. You’re late.”

Shit. Eddie must’ve lost track of time while practically hacking up a lung in his hotboxed van.

The person drags Eddie to a vanity and nudges him toward the high chair, “You’ll get your hair and makeup done, then we should be rolling in about half an hour.”

It’s jarring, really, seeing the amount of work that goes into the shitty raunchy films Eddie jacks off to, but it’s captivating nonetheless. Eddie can see the movement behind him through the vanity mirror, but he’s more focused on the pretty girl still posing for the camera. If that’s the girl Eddie will be working with, then this will be way easier than Eddie thought it would be because he’s already getting hard. Some might call it pathetic, but oh well.

“Hiya, hon! You the new talent?” A chirpy girl walks up behind Eddie, pearly white teeth and glossed lips working in tandem as she chews her gum and blows a quick bubble. She doesn’t wait for Eddie’s response as she digs her fingers into Eddie’s curly strands, tossing and gently pulling them about to see what she’s working with.

Her name is Nicki. She’s friendly and very talkative; Eddie comes to learn, because for the majority of the time that she’s working on Eddie’s hair, her mouth is running nonstop. Eddie doesn’t mind, though; honestly, it helps to take his mind off of whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

Emily, the assistant from earlier, walks up to the vanity, her cute ladybug glasses slipping down her nose as she steps into Eddie’s view— and Eddie is happy to see a familiar and kind face. “Will you be needing a fluffer?”

Eddie blinks, eyes fluttering when the hairstylist dusts his bangs over his lashes, “Uh— a what now?”

Nicki loudly pops her gum as she shakes a can of hairspray, “A fluffer, honey. Someone to jack you off and get you ready for the scene.”

Eddie’s eyes widened for a split second, and he made the mistake of glancing over at the girl who was still modeling across the room. Her tits are out now, and they’re perfect, and she catches Eddie’s eyes for the second time, and it makes his already stiffened cock stir within his pants.

Eddie shakes his head as he looks back at Emily, his voice higher when he responds, “No, I uh… I think I’m good.”

Which, duh. Eddie's dick is practically breaking the seams of his jeans because of the pretty girl, and it’s only getting worse because now she’s walking toward him dressed in a white robe. “You must be Eddie.”

Eddie’s surprised you know his name, but then he figures, obviously, you must know his name given the fact that you’re about to let him swing his dick near you. “That’s me,” Eddie smiles, “You must be… I’m sorry nobody’s told me anything.” He awkwardly laughs.

You nod with a shrug and tell him your name, “Is this your first time filming?” You ask.

Eddie nods, “Is it that obvious?” He nervously asks. You shrug, “Most guys in the industry need more than a pair of tits to get that hard.” You nod towards Eddie’s crotch— and oh god. How embarrassing! She knows you were checking her out!

“No need to be embarrassed though, Eddie. Pretty soon, you’ll be shoving your cock down my throat, so.”

Eddie’s cock may have gotten harder from those words alone.

“A rookie? Seriously, Don?”

Your makeup is being done, so you don’t see how your manager rolls her eyes at you. “When I said I wanted someone fresh, I didn’t mean never-been-under-the-camera fresh.”

The makeup artist finishes with your touch-ups, and you take the opportunity to turn to Don and glare at her, “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Don.”

The older lady waves a dismissive hand, “He’ll do just fine, babe,” she deadpans. You shake your head, turning to look at the man of the hour. He’s attractive; you’ll give him that. Tall, pretty curly hair, sweet brown eyes, a panty-dropping voice. Sure, he’s attractive, okay. But he’s got no clue how to do this type of thing. Clearly— I mean, you’re literally watching him gaze down at the dildos that have been lined up for you as if he’s never seen one in his life— which you doubt. If he knew how to find an adult filmmaking studio, then he’s definitely seen some fucking dildos.

You suppress a laugh when he accidentally drops a glass dildo, turning back to your manager as you ignore his chorus of apologies to the staff, “My case in point.”

Don fails to hold back a laugh, “So he’s a little off the walls,” she shrugs, “He’s cute though. And his dick is nice. Trust me.”

And, well, she’s not wrong.

Don’s never been one to lie without reason, so unfortunately, Eddie’s cock is nice. Pretty, even. Which is weird because after some time being in this industry, the thrill of a nice-looking cock has gotten lost on you because they practically all look the same— just different shades of colors, really.

But Eddie’s cock is nice in the sense that it’s real. He’s not shot up with steroids to make it overly veiny and big or cleanly shaved or any of that superficial camera-ready shit. No, Eddie is natural. He’s got neatly trimmed curly hairs across his pelvis that smell like his body wash when you nuzzle your nose against it, and he’s big enough to wrap your hand around, but you know the second he pushes inside of you, it will be a nice stretch. He’s cut, and he has a slight curve to the left, and he’s so sensitive his cock jumps when you tap the pearly white drop that leaks from his tip. You giggle, shuffling forward on your knees as you stroke him.

You’re already done with the opening scene, finally. Eddie couldn’t remember any of his lines, so it took a lot longer than it should’ve, but you think it was worth it either way because the way Eddie moans when you finally wrap your lips around his tip is the prettiest sound you think you’ve ever heard.

“F-fuck,” He quietly curses, hips shifting as you swallow more of him. He sinks a slightly shaking hand into your hair, gently cupping your head as you work your mouth over him. Your eyes flutter to gaze up at him, and your stomach flutters at the cocky grin he gives you. “You’ve got such a good little mouth on you, sweetheart. Gonna let me fuck it?”

You hum and nod as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, and he hums, “Open up for me, baby.”

You shift on your knees, finding a comfortable position for the action before blinking up at Eddie, indicating you’re ready. Eddie’s hands are steady and certain as he cups both sides of your head, holding you still as he draws his cock out once before slowly thrusting in until your throat tightens around his tip.

He fills your mouth so perfectly, just enough to where you won’t get bored, but you also won’t get an overly aching jaw, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. Can’t wait to feel how his cock twitches when he first nestles deep in your walls or how much better the sounds he makes will be.

It’s a nice feeling, having Eddie fuck your mouth, and you usually don’t care much for shots like this because most of the time, it’s either underwhelming or overwhelming, but Eddie fucks your throat in a sense that’s dirty yet so caring. He’s spewing out filthy praises, and you're drooling onto his balls, but he’s looking at you with these soft brown eyes and caressing you so gently you might quiver. Fuck, you really wanted to hate him.

Behind the camera, the director makes a motion for you to cut to the next action, but since your back is to them, Eddie is the one that sees it and gently coaxes you off from his cock, cooing when you let out the smallest whine that only he can hear. He smiles, thumb running beneath your swollen lip to catch the strings of spit and cum, “What? You liked having me down your throat, sweet girl?”

You mewl, pressing your chin into his palm as you nod.

"Yeah. Want it, please?" You whisper. God, you didn’t expect to be fucked out within the first scene. "Aw, maybe next time, princess. You can keep me warm as long as you'd like."

It’s almost embarrassing, how much you like the sound of that and how it makes your tummy flip, but you don’t have much time to think about it because Eddie’s ushering you up from the floor to climb onto the couch and straddle his lap.

You’re both bare now, and when Eddie had first taken his shirt off, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands down his graffitied chest, but you were too busy sinking to your knees. But now you have the chance, and boy, do you fucking take it.

You marvel as you coast your hands across Eddie’s body, fingertips gliding through fields of inked stories and vast skin. His breath hitches when you graze over his nipples, and his hips shift beneath you, wet cock slipping against your sticky folds. You whimper, grinding down onto him, and he curses as he grabs ahold of your hips. “Y’like them?” He sweetly asks, referring to his tattoos.

"Yeah," you nod, grinding down harder to have his cock nestled between your folds, his ruddy tip nudging your clit. “I can tell you all about them if you want.”

You giggle at his timing, but before you can respond, a director speaks up from the side, “Less talking, please.”

Eddie glances over your shoulder and salutes the man, “Roger that, sir.”

You can’t help but snort at his actions, but you’re quickly hushed when Eddie reaches down to paint his cock between your folds before lining himself up, “Go ahead and sit on it, baby.” He whispers.

You listen, nuzzling your face against his shoulder as you wriggle yourself down the length of his cock.

And god, you love being fucking right. The stretch is so good, better than you had imagined it to be, and you can’t help the high-pitched moan that slips from your lips when Eddie thrusts up into you.

"O-oh. Oh fuck," You whimper. You’re practically boneless as Eddie fucks you, your entire body just draped over him as his hands dig into your ass to help bounce you on his cock. “Jesus fucking— you feel so good,” He pants, and you mewl, cunt clenching around his cock as he drills up into you. “You gonna cum for me, hm? Be my best girl and cum for me. I know you’ll sound so pretty.” He whispers.

Before you know it, you’re moaning out and writhing in Eddie’s hold, juices dripping down his cock and forming a sticky mess in the patch of curls at his base as you cum.

“Let’s have a shot from the back.”

Your body feels weightless as you and Eddie change positions so you’re on all fours. You’re blinking through a hazy fog, and it feels so good. Eddie’s hands send chills up your spine as they grip your waist and tug you towards him.

“Oh, baby, you’re shaking,” Eddie hums, running his hands over the fat of your ass, thumbs digging into the skin to spread you open. You’re so wet you can hear the sticky noise of your folds parting, and Eddie groans as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. “You open up so well for me, sweet girl.”

Jesus.

You don’t get much of a warning before you feel Eddie lapping and sucking at your cunt, devouring you until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and quivering limbs.

Jesus Christ, that wasn’t in the fucking script. Half of the shit Eddie’s doing isn’t in the fucking script, and it's making your head spin.

God, who is this man?

You whimper his name, reaching a shaky hand back to grapple at his hair, and Eddie nuzzles his face deeper into your cunt, nose nudging your ass in a way that makes your toes curl. He’s good. He’s really good, you’ll give him that.

You and Eddie go at it for about an hour, switching positions and pausing every now and then to get a good shot of your cunt wrapped around Eddie’s cock, or Eddie’s tongue lapping over your clit or tits.

And it's fun doing this with Eddie.

Eddie is like a breath of fresh air. Most guys in this industry are stuck up and make things annoyingly serious, and most girls are either bitchy or just want to get it over with, which you don’t blame them for.

But Eddie makes things feel so normal— like you’re just two best friends getting filmed having sex— because he keeps whispering tiny jokes to make you giggle. He tells you how pretty you sound and look, and he’s so incredibly clueless because he keeps leaning in and asking things like, “Is this, like, a good angle for the camera?” and “Should I maybe kiss you more?” and “Is it okay if I stop fucking you for a second? Because I’m about to blow.”

And all you can do is breathlessly moan and nod because he’s plunging himself so deep into you that it almost hurts, but it’s so good.

You’re so fucked out you barely even register Eddie’s words when he tells you he’s about to cum, but your body immediately reacts when he pats your hip, indicating for you to get ready.

You scramble down from the couch, limbs weighted from pleasure as you settle on your knees, batting your lashes up at Eddie as he towers over you, stroking his wet cock. Eddie rests a hand on your head, fingers grasping your hair to keep you still as he gazes down at you. You’re impatient, so you can’t help but let yourself sneakily lick the tip of his cock, and he grins, “It’s coming, precious girl. Stick your tongue out for me.”

You shuffle closer, sticking your tongue out as you eagerly await the taste of Eddie on your tongue— and when you get it, god, you never want it to stop. Everything about it is perfect: the way his face twists up, the way he tastes, the pretty moans he lets out. You want it on repeat.

You might buy this film just to relive it.

You take every last drop Eddie has to give you with a happy hum; a little bit catches your lip, and Eddie swipes it with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and suckling. You whine, frowning and causing Eddie to laugh, “You got most of it, sweetheart. Can’t be too greedy, can you?”

It’s like you’re both in your own world. Only talking to each other and enjoying each other's bodies because Eddie just… it’s weird, but he makes the room go away. He makes things feel less performative— and maybe it’s just your hazy, blissed-out state of mind, but you think you might like Eddie.

You’re snapped from your trance when the director yells cut, and then everyone’s springing into action to tear down the set because another crew will be using it next. Eddie helps you stand on your wobbly legs, “You alright?”

You nod, “Great. You did good, by the way.”

Eddie leans forward and grabs your robe that had been pushed to the side. He smiles as he holds it open for you, “Thank you. You did pretty awesome yourself.” He responds as you slink your arms through the sleeves.

You turn to Eddie as you close your robe and tie it shut. Your assistant, Emily, hands Eddie a robe for himself, and he thanks her, curtly bowing his head as he grabs the plush article. “So,” Eddie starts as he slips on the robe. You both start walking towards the dressing rooms as he speaks, “Think I could make a career for myself here?” He asks.

You halt at that, turning to Eddie with a confused look, “Is that… is that not why you’re here?” You ask.

Eddie shakes his head as he ties his robe, “Nah, I got fired from my job. Needed some cash for rent this month.” He explains.

Is it selfish to say you’re disappointed to hear this? If Eddie had been wanting to join this industry, you would’ve had the opportunity to work with him again. But maybe it’s more selfish to say you’re happy he isn’t joining this industry. Eddie becoming an adult film star would mean half of the time, he’d be fucking other people, and unfortunately, that idea alone makes your gut twist with jealousy.

You nod, pursing your lips as you fiddle with your fingers, “Well… would you be interested in this type of thing?” You try your best to sound casual about it, and you think it works because Eddie only shrugs again with a short hum, “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be opposed to it, I guess.”

Before you can respond, Emily calls your name, “Don needs to speak with you in the other room about your next shoot.”

You turn back to Eddie and try to commit his pretty brown eyes to memory, “I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie.” You smile. Eddie smiles back and does somewhat of a dramatic bow, and you snort as you walk off.

You glance over your shoulder as you walk with Emily.

“Could you do me a favor?” You ask her. Emily nods, and you take one last glance at Eddie before he disappears into the dressing room.

“Get his number for me. And leave it in my purse, please.”

A couple of weeks have passed since Eddie made his big debut in the film world.

Eddie made a pretty penny from that film, enough to pay his rent and have some play money on the side. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t have to scramble for cash this month again because he got a job at the mechanic shop downtown. It’s a lot of labor and a lot of hours, but the pay is good, and nobody gives a shit if Eddie comes back from lunch smelling like a dispensary, so.

Suck that, Robert.

However, Eddie’s still thoroughly surprised to see you sitting in the shop office when he returns from a quick smoke break. “Woah, funny seeing you here. Car problems?” He questions. Eddie tries not to think about the fact that he’s seen you completely bare before. Tries not to think of how he’d spent over an hour in your guts last month or how you swallowed his load like it was nothing. Eddie fails miserably.

You shake your head as you stand up from the leather couch in the office, grabbing your purse as Eddie walks closer to you, “No, actually, Lola’s doing great.”

Eddie cocks his head, “Lola?”

You nod, “My car.” You gesture out towards the window where your car is parked. Eddie makes an understanding noise as he nods.

“I was actually hoping to talk to you.”

Eddie pauses at that, confusion settling over his body as he looks at you. You’re beautiful, kind, soft eyes with soft, pretty lips that Eddie thinks about kissing when he goes to bed. Eddie points to himself with raised eyebrows, “Me?”

You nod again, “Yeah, about like… my job and stuff.”

Oh.

Ohhhh.

“Oh, shit, yeah, um,” Eddie glances around the office and nods, “Yeah, we can step out and talk, like, in my van, maybe?” He offers. Not because he’s, like, ashamed to talk about porn or something, most people watch it! But a few of the guys that work here are downright dipshits, and Eddie won’t hesitate to punch one of them if they say some sly shit about you or your job. And, well, Eddie would like to keep his job, so.

You don’t take offense to it, though; you just nod with your pretty smile and tell Eddie to lead the way.

Eddie’s van smells like weed, cologne, and a hint of whatever he had for lunch.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he clears off the passenger seat that’s filled with bottles of different drinks, rolling papers, food wrappers, and things of the like. “She’s seen better days.”

You smile nonetheless, thanking him when he steps away and holds the door open for you. You hop into the seat, glancing around as Eddie shuts your door and jogs to the driver's seat.

He gets in with a heavy sigh, hair unruly from the wind, brown eyes wide and excited when he looks at you. “Hey.” He huffs with a smile, and there’s a piece of hair in Eddie’s bangs that’s sticking straight up. “Hey.” You giggle, reaching out to fix the rebellious strand. Eddie softly thanks you, and you swear you see a hint of pink dust across his cheeks.

He shifts in his seat, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he sighs again, “So… what’s up?”

God, he’s so cute. So incredibly weird and awkward and cute. He looks handsome in his navy blue coveralls, grease stains smeared across his torso, and some sneaky smudges on his neck. “You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know?” You tease.

Eddie’s face twists in confusion, “Huh?”

You shrug, distracting yourself by poking around at his dashboard, sifting through the CDs and tapes he has lying about. Eddie doesn’t stop you; he only watches, and you give him a cheeky smile. “My assistant got your number, right? But then you, like, never answered my calls.” You shrug as you flip through more of his things. You hear Eddie mumble something about needing a new cord for his home phone before he asks louder, " So, how’d you find me?”

God, he must think you’re a stalker or something. You didn’t really think that through, honestly.

You hum, “Just asked around a bit. You’re a bit of a hot commodity around here, by the way. Heard you started a cult? What’s that about?”

Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, and you laugh, “Oh god. Jesus, no, I didn’t start a cult. I just,” he groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was just weird in high school.”

“You’re still weird.”

Eddie’s face falters at your words, but you smile as you add, “I like it.”

Eddie blushes again, but he turns to look away this time, and you think he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever set your eyes upon. He turns back to you with a shy grin, “Did you come here just to flirt with me?” He teases, wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger to twirl in a shy manner. “Maybe… but I also have a question.” You respond.

Eddie nods, “Shoot.”

You take a deep breath as you shift in your seat, “Well, uh, I wanted to ask if you maybe…” You glance at Eddie, who's expectantly awaiting your question, and your stomach twists with nerves. Why are you so nervous to ask Eddie for something you’ve already done before?

“Well, I’m doing a shoot tomorrow,” you finally begin, “And I just found out the guy they paired me with is, like, a total asshole— I’ve worked with him before, he’s just… awful,” You explain. “So, I was just… I don’t know; I was just wondering— hoping— you’d be up for it, maybe? To take the guy's place, I mean.”

You finish rambling and glance at Eddie as his eyes widen, “Oh, um. Like— like, film with you again?”

Eddie could leap for joy right now.

Not only are you, like, the cutest, prettiest, kindest fucking human being to ever grace this earth, but you’re sitting in Eddie’s van, chewing on your lip and asking Eddie to fuck you for the cameras again.

Eddie must’ve done something incredibly right in his past life.

“Oh!” Eddie starts, “ Um… yeah, I’d love to!” What? Weird, take that back. “No, I mean, like, not in a weird way. I just— I’d rather not let the asshole do it if I can do it.”

God, could Eddie sound any more pathetic?

Still, despite how dumb Eddie sounds, you smile and clasp your hands together, “Oh, are you sure? I know it’s last minute, and it’s not really the ideal task—”

“Woah, wait. What do you mean not the ideal task?”

Because literally, what do you mean? How could that not be the ideal task? And who made you think that fucking you isn’t the ideal task? If it’s that asshole you were supposed to work with, then Eddie has a few colorful things to say about and to him.

You shrug, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Nothing, I just know my job isn’t… you know, traditional or whatever. And you had only done it that one time because you needed it, so I get it if you’re, like, not in the mood to fuck on camera for a bunch of random people.” You ramble. Which, uh, no. You could not be further from the truth. Eddie would love to fuck you on camera for a bunch of random people. Hell, Eddie would love to fuck you under any consensual circumstance, if he’s being honest, so. Yeah, he’s pretty excited.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “No, I— I want to, really, I do.” Eddie nods.

Your unsure frown spreads into the prettiest smile before you reach across the center console to pull Eddie into the most bone-crushing, you-scented, chest-warming hug Eddie’s ever been given as you spew out a chorus of thank yous.

“I brought a copy of the script for you to look over so you’re not totally confused,” Eddie watches as you pull back to reach into your bag and pull out a manilla folder. “I usually like to color coordinate my scripts, so I did it for you too. The pink is me, and the red is you, and the specific actions they want us to do are in blue.” You point out. And Eddie thinks he might kiss you right now— you’re so fucking cute!

“Wow, thanks, um… I wish I were, like… good with these types of things, but I think you saw how majestic I am with scripts.” Eddie huffs out a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck. You smile, “I can help you— if you’d like.”

Oh, you’re trying to kill Eddie at this rate.

Eddie nods either way, even though he’s six feet underground and knocking at the fiery gates. “I would love that, actually. I finish work in about three hours if you’re free.”

Eddie definitely broke a handful of laws while driving home.

Since you offered to help Eddie with his lines, you both decided to meet at Eddie’s place. He gave you his address, told you how to get into the complex, and said see you later. Now, Eddie is ecstatic to see you, obviously, but Eddie can’t remember if his home looked normal or like a Walmart clearance aisle after black Friday, so he ran through multiple stop signs and red lights to get home before you showed up so he could clear things up.

He’s hustling through his apartment like a madman, picking up strewn clothes and cat toys before speeding through the few dishes he had in his sink. Honestly, Eddie’s apartment has seen worse days, so there’s not much cleaning he has to do, but he’s still stressed when he hears a knock on the door.

Eddie doesn’t even like candles, but he lit one just in case there’s a smell he’s grown used to lingering about. Eddie just doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob. Because he isn’t. He just has an orchestrated chaotic lifestyle.

Eddie couldn’t be happier when he opened his door because there you were, beaming with a smile and a bag of takeout, and Eddie thought it wasn’t normal to be this soft for someone you’d basically just met.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie dramatically bows with an extended hand to show the entrance of his small, homey apartment. You smile as you walk in, taking in your surroundings.

It’s nothing extraordinary, honestly. Eddie’s home is really just vomit of everything Eddie likes: favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite game characters, etc. It’s like Eddie’s brain exploded and painted itself all over the place. Eddie had a girlfriend many moons ago, and she changed things around to become more coordinated, so now it’s less of a shit show and more of an abstract museum sort of thing.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway because you’re gasping and picking up the little roommate Eddie has.

“Who’s this?” You coo at the little creature. You’re looking down at the furball as you scratch behind her ear, “That,” Eddie sighs, “Is the reason why I didn’t get your calls.”

You look up at Eddie, confusion written across your face. Eddie points across the room to the wall where his home phone hangs, except the wire is broken. “Little asshole chewed through the wire, and I’ve been slow to replace it. Her name is Banshee.”

The cat meows at the mention of her name, wide eyes blinking up at Eddie as you coddle her. She’s a fluffy cat with a black coat decorated with two white spots: one on her back and the other just behind her ear.

You hum, “So technically,” You drag, “It’s your fault.” You tease. You coo as you press your cheek to the tiny kitten, gazing up at Eddie with these soft eyes, “I don’t think you can blame this cutie for your laziness.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, wills away whatever power he has to not kiss you, and gently takes the takeout bag from your hands so you have less to carry. “Fine then. Ask her what happened to the laces of my work shoes, too, since she’s so innocent.”

Eddie’s home is so… Eddie.

He’s got music and horror movie posters framed along his walls, cute little scary figurines randomly placed within his bookshelves, and there’s an overall smell of Eddie’s musk and the sandalwood candle he has burning. It’s cozy, a nice space for one person who enjoys their alone time, and he let you choose a record to play from his extensive collection, and he has the world's cutest little cat, so it’s safe to say you could spend an eternity in Eddie’s world.

“Shit, that wasn’t my line,” Eddie stresses. You smile as Eddie tosses the packet onto his coffee table and falls back onto the couch, “We’re wasting our time here, princess. I dropped out of theater for a reason.” He grumbles.

You sigh, tilting your head against the couch cushion as you gaze at Eddie, “You’re thinking too hard about it.” You say. “It’s a porno, not a Grammy-nominated film.” You point out.

Eddie snorts before giving a short shrug, “For the record, I think you could land a Grammy, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, right. You don’t need to suck up to me, Eddie, you’re already gonna fuck me tomorrow.” You jokingly say.

Eddie waves you off and shifts into a more comfortable position. “So,” He starts, “What’s the asshole guy's deal?”

Banshee has hopped onto the couch and made her way into your lap, tiny paws kneading the material of your jeans as she settles. You gently pet her as you glance at Eddie and shrug, “Not sure, he’s just a total dick,” You grumble. “I worked with him once last year, and he, like, told me I wasn’t the best or whatever— which, okay, I can totally understand,” You ramble, “I don’t think I’m, like, some sex god. I don’t expect to be everyone or anyone’s best fuck, but still! It just… it didn’t make me feel good, the way he said it.” You windedly explain. You distract yourself with the cute animal in your lap as you finish your explanation, “So, I asked my manager never to pair us again, but—” You shrug.

Next to you, Eddie shifts once more and scoffs. “He’s a fucking shitfaced liar, princess.”

You snort, playfully rolling your eyes, “Eddie—” “No, I’m serious. He’s a liar. Anybody who even gets the chance to touch you is a lucky fucker, okay? If anything, he probably begged your manager to let him work with you again.”

“You’re just saying that. I don’t need you to try and make me feel better, and it was so long ago anyway.” “Yeah, but that’s the thing, I’m not.”

You frown as you gaze over at Eddie, watching as he sits straight and looks at you with a serious gaze in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s up with that guy, maybe he was dropped as a baby too many times, but anybody with common sense and a properly functioning dick knows just how fucking amazing you are. End of discussion.”

And well, it’s pathetic how your chest warms at his words, but it does. And as Eddie goes on to ramble about his hectic week at work, you can’t help but let your mind spin with Eddie’s kind words until nothing is in your mind but the echoes of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Not many times has Eddie woken up with a girl in his home. Well, at least not a girl that he’s actually liked for more than a one-night stand or a shortly-lived fling.

After running the script for the last time, Eddie suggested putting on a movie and digging into the takeout you’d brought. The meal was delicious, and the movie you’d landed on was hilarious, but it’s hard to keep your eyes open on a full stomach, so when Eddie felt your head drop onto his shoulder, he couldn’t help but let his body sink into the couch and fall asleep too.

You’d woken up about an hour later and tried to make your escape quietly, but Eddie insisted you shouldn’t drive in such a sleepy state, so he let you make yourself comfy in his bed. Banshee, the little traitor, trotted right behind you and left Eddie on the couch to snuggle up beside you for the night.

You’re cute in the morning, Eddie thinks. You have an adorable little pout, and you yawn about 80 times until you’ve had a sip of coffee.

It takes nearly a lifetime to drag you away from Banshee so you and Eddie can head to the studio because you adore the little asshole, and Banshee loves anything that’ll give her the time of day. You make Eddie promise to let you see her again, though, so you sadly say goodbye with a soft peck to the fluffy area between her eyes and let Eddie drag you to his van.

The car ride is nice; Eddie lets you mess around with the contents of his van and go through the stack of CDs he’s compiled over the years. You land on one of Eddie’s favorites, an old mixtape Wayne made in college that Eddie spent most of his high school blaring loud enough to blow out a speaker.

Today, you’re shooting in a house— a nice one that Eddie could only conjure up in his dreams—but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because he’s being dragged over to makeup and hair as soon as he steps in.

“You thinking of joining the industry?” Nicki asks as she works a nice-smelling mousse into Eddie’s hair.

Eddie had been busy watching you talk to one of the producers, but he finds the strength to tear his eyes away and gaze at Nicki through the vanity mirror. “No, not exactly. Just… doing a favor for a friend, I guess.”

Nicki raises an eyebrow, “A friend? Don’t act like I didn’t see you two come in together.”

Eddie’s face warms at that, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters, “Huh?”

Nicki looks at Eddie with a ‘Don’t bullshit me’ look.

“I mean, like, yeah, we had breakfast together–” “Mhm.”

Eddie huffs out a gentle laugh, “No, really, we’re friends.”

“Friends that fuck on camera and look at each other the way you two do? Sure.”

Eddie doesn’t ask what Nicki means by that because— well, he knows what Nicki means by that. He’s caught himself looking at you like you put the stars in the sky one too many times, and it’s almost embarrassing. Almost.

But can you blame Eddie? Can you really blame him when you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, the softest smile, the greatest laugh, and the sweetest personality? It’s not Eddie’s fault that you’re perfect.

Eddie just thinks you’re neat.

He thinks you’re amazing, actually, and it’s hard to remember his fucking lines when you’re standing under a steaming shower, wet body glistening and pebbled nipples practically begging for his mouth.

He’s butchering the script, that’s for sure, but he figures it’s not too bad since nobody’s corrected him.

The scene starts with you taking a shower and Eddie being a peeping tom, which ultimately leads to Eddie sinking to his knees and licking into you until you’re a quivering, sticky mess on his tongue. Eddie would spend forever on his knees, between your legs, if he could because you taste heavenly and sound better than any song Eddie’s ever listened to, and that says something.

Your fingers thread through the wet strands of Eddie’s hair, and Eddie rapidly blinks when he gazes up at you, only to get an eyeful of his wispy bangs. You smile, petting back his bangs so he can see, and he hums, nudging his face further against you, his tongue teasing more, fingers curling deeper.

It doesn’t take long to make you cum, and the second you do, Eddie is standing up, shutting off the shower, and ushering you out into the expansive main bathroom. It’s almost as if it’s just Eddie and you in the room. No cameras, no directors or producers, or that weird pervy lighting guy that compliments you way too fucking much for Eddie’s liking. It’s just you and Eddie.

“Let’s do an over-the-counter shot next.”

Fuck. It’s not just you two, actually.

What a buzz kill.

Either way, Eddie finds himself pressing your wet, naked waist down against the sink, smiling when you squeal at the cold marble touching your skin. “Stick your ass out, baby, let me see that gorgeous ass.”

You mewl as you follow Eddie’s instructions, tipping your hips back to present yourself to him and the cameras. You’re dripping. Swollen and wet and throbbing, and Eddie— god, Eddie feels like a fucking animal.

“Got such a pretty pussy, honey. All wet and ready for me, hm?” He teases, gently running his fingers through the sticky arousal between your legs. You shakily breathe as you nod your head, “Yeah. All for you. Please.”

Eddie steps forward, grabbing his cock and painting it between your swollen lips as he hooks his other arm across your shoulders, pulling you back to press against his chest. He presses a wet kiss to the skin of your cheek in front of your ear, voice dry and needy as he whispers in your ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” His eyes catch yours in the mirror as you keen. “Ask me to fuck you.”

You whimper out loud, wriggling your hips back into his as your hands grip the counter, “P-please fuck me. Please. Need it so bad, want your cock so bad I— o-oh.”

The slide to home base is fucking otherworldly. It was life-changing the first time, and it’s life-changing now, and if Eddie ever gets the chance to fuck you again, he knows it’ll be life-changing then.

You’re so warm, and you're sucking Eddie’s cock in so nicely, so sinfully, that Eddie almost makes a deal with the devil right then and there. Your chest is heaving by the time Eddie’s pelvis presses to your bum, his cock nestled deep into your pulsing cunt. Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as he loops an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to him as he gives one slow thrust. He coos when your eyes flutter shut, and your jaw drops, a shaky hand reaching up to sink your nails into Eddie’s forearm.

“S-so deep,” You slur, wriggling your hips back against Eddie.

Eddie grunts, “Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Always so warm and ready for me, hm?” Eddie’s lips are wet against your jaw as he whispers into your ear, and you nod with a mewl.

Eddie works up the pace relatively fast in favor of the cameras, and at some point, he reaches down to grip the thick of your thigh and haul your leg up to rest on the counter so you’re spread open even more. The angle makes it easier for him to catch your spot, and it’s better for the camera to capture the sight of your soaking pussy wrapped around Eddie’s cock, dribbling onto both of your thighs and creating a sticky ring of arousal at the base of Eddie’s dick.

Eddie’s hand is wrapped around your throat when you begin twitching around him, mumbling promises of your climax, and Eddie doesn’t waste time in sinking his hand between your legs to help you reach the edge quicker. Your moans fall silent, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw dropped wide open as Eddie fucks you through your orgasm— and fuck, you feel so good. Squeezing and pulsing and dripping around Eddie’s thighs, throat vibrating beneath his palm when air comes back to you.

“There we go, baby. Get it all out, push it out, honey.” Eddie encourages you.

You’re shaking, trembling like a leaf in Eddie’s arms, and Eddie wants to spend forever tucked into your pussy, warm skin sticky against him, pretty little whines and mewls coating his brain in this cutesy pink fog that makes him want to fucking marry you.

Get you a home, give you his babies, maybe even get you a fucking dog and just live happily goddamn ever.

Jesus, Eddie’s a goner.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie pulls out last second, jerking himself off between your cute ass cheeks until he’s spurting white ropes of cum up your back.

Eddie, ever the considerate man he is, pushes your hair out of the way to avoid getting any of his sticky release in it. You’re breathing heavily, pretty eyes glazed over as you glance back at Eddie, a shy glint in your eyes at the sight of your skin painted in his cum.

Eddie’s obsessed with you now, no doubt.

His ringed fingers slide through the sticky mess on your skin as he grips your ass cheeks, gently spreading them apart and humming when you arch your back, proudly swaying your ass in front of him. The sight makes Eddie dizzy; pools of cum dripping down your back to slink its way through your ass and over your sticky folds. “You’ve got such a cute little hole, baby.” Eddie compliments, taking his thumb and smearing his cum over the puckered muscle, softly laughing when you whine.

He lightly slaps your ass then, reaching forward to gently grasp your face with his messy hands and pull you back to press a firm kiss over your lips. His thumb, the one that had smeared his cum over your tight hole, sinks between your moving lips, pushing into your mouth and onto your tongue as he whispers a small command to taste it, and you mewl.

“So good, princess—”

“Cut!”

You both jolt at the booming voice, getting rudely snapped out of the daze you’d fallen into.

These fucking cameras.

You smile, dropping your cheek onto your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes up at Eddie from over your shoulder, “You’re a natural, Eddie, you know that?”

Eddie huffs a laugh, thanking the assistant when they bring you towels and robes.

“Well,” He breathes as he slinks the robe over his shoulders, watching as you do the same, “I’ve got the best coach.” He winks.

Now that you and Eddie have done two films together and basically had a sleepover, you’re practically inseparable.

It’s funny, really. Eddie thought maybe the fact that you’ve seen each other bare and had sex on camera might hinder the aspect of any friendly connection because, well, Eddie’s never done this before! He’s not a pornstar, so he’s not sure how the friendship/relationship aspect of it works, but luckily, it’s easier than most normal friendships Eddie’s had before.

You talk almost every night over the phone (Eddie finally fixed the wire), going over one another’s day and laughing at embarrassing or funny moments. You go on for hours until either one of you falls asleep, and it’s usually you since Eddie has the sleep schedule of a newborn baby who doesn’t know the difference between night and day. All the better for him, though, because he gets to poke fun at you the next day and tease you about how you sometimes snore.

And Eddie loves listening to you talk— could spend hours cuddled up with Banshee as he listens to you ramble on about whatever new show you’re watching or the latest gossip at work. It’s Eddie’s favorite part of his day, talking to you, so he kicks himself when he realizes he forgot to call you last night.

He’s getting ready for bed when he remembers, and he practically sprints to his phone on his nightstand and dials your number in less than thirty seconds. It takes you three rings to answer, and Eddie smiles at the sound of your voice, “Hello?”

“Hi, princess,” Eddie responds.

You gasp, “Eddie, hi! Oh, I was just about to call you! Where have you been?” You ask. Eddie groans, dropping back onto his mattress with spread arms. “Working. I’m so sorry I forgot to call. I just started a new schedule at the shop, and the hours are awful.”

Eddie can hear your frown when you respond, “Bummer. I’ve got a way to cheer you up, though.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed, and sleep is so heavy in his bones he feels like he’s sinking through the mattress, but he smiles as if it’s second nature when he responds, “Hit me.”

You cheer, and Eddie hears the rustling of grocery bags on your end as you speak, “My manager gave me a shit ton of holiday chocolates she had left over, and well, I was wondering if you’d like to drown yourself in sugar with me?”

Eddie softly laughs, folding his arm to rest his hand on his tummy as he nods, forgetting you can’t see. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

The drive from your flat to Eddie’s is typically around twenty minutes, but with the benefit of it being nearly midnight and most normal people being in bed by now, you’re knocking on Eddie’s door in just a little under twelve minutes.

Eddie opens the door to let you in and immediately just wants to kiss you. You’re dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, loose pajama pants with cute little ducks printed on them, and fluffy house slippers. You grin up at Eddie as you lift a bag full of candy, “I come bearing gifts!”

Eddie had been exhausted all day, but now that he’s had two handfuls of sugary treats, he’s ready to run a fucking marathon.

He’s sucking on a sour apple jawbreaker and watching some shitty romcom with Banshee curled in his lap when he feels your head softly drop onto his shoulder. He glances down at you and sees the soft flutter of your eyes, “Are you tired? You can take my bed.” He offers.

You tilt your head to blink up at him tiredly, “Will you come with me?”

And well, Eddie was originally going to take the couch, but you’re looking up at him with these cute, bleary eyes, and Eddie can’t even imagine saying no. So, he shuts his TV off, makes a mental note to clean up the candy wrappers sometime tomorrow, and lets you drag him off to his room.

Banshee decided to take advantage of the new space on the couch and sprawl out, so Eddie doesn’t have to worry about asking if you’re okay with her cuddling up on his bed like she usually does.

Eddie doesn’t do this very often— sleep with other people in his bed, he means. And sure, he’s had partners before that would stay the night here and there, but he hasn’t had that in over a year now, so it’s safe to say that Eddie’s a little bit nervous.

He doesn’t know if you want to be close, but considering how cuddly you are on a daily basis, he’s not surprised when you press yourself into his side with a content sigh, snuggling deeper into the warm covers. He turns, shifting to wrap his arms around your frame, trying his best to ignore the fast beating of his heart in his chest— but that’s not the main issue. The bigger problem is— “Eddie? Are you hard?”

Shit.

God, this is awful. Nothing even remotely sexual happened, and Eddie’s popping a boner and practically stabbing your stomach. Fuck, you probably think he’s a perv now. Nice going.

“No.”

It falls silent for a moment, and Eddie can feel the quiver of your body as you giggle into his shoulder. He smiles, an embarrassed blush rising over her cheeks as he lifts a hand to palm at his eye, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You turn in Eddie’s arm, pressing a hand to Eddie’s shoulder to lay him on his back. You stay lying by his side, body pressed to him, head resting on his shoulder. You nose at the curly strands of hair on Eddie’s neck, and your hand runs down his torso, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. “O-oh. No, you don’t need to, princess.” Eddie says, yet his voice is shaky and holds anticipation as you drag your nails through the coarse hair leading to his cock.

“I want to. Please?” You ask. And you’re so good, so obedient, not touching Eddie’s cock until he swallows and nods his head yes. You wriggle, like a happy pup that got a treat, and your hand sinks lower, wrapping around the thick of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie’s breath hitches, sinking into the feeling of your warm hand stroking up his cock, your thumb running over his leaking tip. Eddie curses, hips twitching up into your hold, and you press a kiss to his jaw, and Eddie nearly bursts into stars.

You press another kiss to his jaw, soft and sweet, and Eddie slinks an arm around you, sinking his hands into your hair and shakily breathing. “You keep kissing me like that, and I’m gonna— fuck.”

And it’s so pathetic; you’ve only had your hand down his pants for less than five minutes, and Eddie’s quivering like a virgin having their first time. God, this is so embarrassing.

You kiss Eddie once more, “Wait, wait. Not yet.”

And then you shuffle away from Eddie, and he’s frowning because he feels cold without you snuggled against him. But then you’re sinking underneath the covers, and Eddie’s cursing, “W-what are you doing, honey?”

He lifts the covers just as you wriggle your way between his legs and hook your fingers over the band of his sweats. You peel his sweats away, mouth opening like a hungry lion when Eddie’s cock pops out. You push the front band of his sweats to catch just below his balls, and Eddie’s hips squirm from the pressure making you giggle when his cock twitches.

You loop your fingers around his cock, twisting up on a long stroke, “Did I ever tell you how pretty your cock is, Eddie?”

Jesus Christ.

Eddie breathes shakily through his nose, tummy quivering as your gaze flickers; he shakes his head no. Eddie sinks a hand to pet your hair back, smiling when you nuzzle into his touch, letting your lips brush against his tip, “You think it’s pretty, baby?” He asks.

You nod, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth to catch the pearl of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You don’t say anything else as you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him, languidly taking him as far as you want and sucking him for all he’s worth.

Eddie’s head drops back then, his entire body just losing strength to do anything as you slowly fuck your mouth over him. The blanket falls over you then, and Eddie curses, scrambling to push it back over your head so you don’t, like, suffocate on his cock.

And Eddie was already close before, so it doesn’t take long for him to start cursing and warning you that he’s gonna cum. Before he knows it, he’s emptying himself into the warm cavern of your mouth, soft mixes of curses and your name tumbling from his mouth as you happily take every last drop.

You pull off of him with a small pop, licking up the small remnants of cum that drool down his cock. Eddie feels weightless now; the effects of sugar are long gone now that you practically sucked his soul through his dick. You tuck Eddie back into his pants, and as if you couldn’t get any cuter, any sweeter, you press a gentle kiss to Eddie’s tummy right where the waistband sits.

Eddie’s got a loopy grin on his face when you crawl back up to snuggle back into his side, mumbling something about how you love licking his cock. Eddie nearly dies, by the way.

He thinks he’s in love with you, maybe.

You breathe in deep, draping an arm across Eddie’s tummy and slinking your leg between his, and you sigh all sleepy and cute as you say, “G’night, Eddie.”

Yeah. Eddie’s definitely in love with you.

Weeks go by as you and Eddie become thick as thieves.

You carry on with your nightly calls, obviously, but now there’s a healthy mix of one of you going to the other's home and crashing there for the night, then that bleeds into the next day where you just spend hours with each other doing fuck all.

Eddie just likes being around you. You don’t have to be doing anything particularly fun or sexual; no, Eddie just enjoys your company. And most times, you and Eddie will be doing your separate little activities— you reading or watching a movie while Eddie writes up new campaign ideas for Dustin— and you will reach out to twirl a strand of Eddie’s hair around your knuckle and gently tug or poke your finger into his cheek where his dimples reside and Eddie just melts.

Most of the time, you’re only doing it for your peace of mind (Eddie knows because you told him when he asked), but something tells him maybe you actually have something to say when you poke Eddie’s cheek for the third time.

He turns to you, brows raised and hiding beneath his bangs that so badly need a trim, “Yes, doll?”

You smile now that his attention is on you, and you shift, careful not to wake Banshee in your lap from your movements. Eddie thinks Banshee might like you more than she likes him, which is just downright traitorous, considering Eddie’s the one who feeds her and keeps a roof over her head. He doesn’t really blame the cat, though.

“What are you doing on Saturday?” You ask.

Eddie hums, closing his notebook and leaning back into his couch, “This Saturday?”

You nod, and Eddie shrugs, lips pouting as he speaks, “Nothing, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

You sigh heavily, sinking into the couch as you gently pet Banshee behind her ear, “We have an event for work, and I was just wondering if you would maybe wanna tag along?”

Eddie’s head tips in interest, “Sure. Is it, like, fancy dress shit?” He asks. Eddie thinks he has a tux somewhere deep in the trenches of his closet. Probably the one he wore to Wayne's wedding two years ago; he hopes he still fits.

You shrug, “Eh, nothing too fancy schmancy. Slacks and a nice shirt will do,” You mindlessly watch the television, gently rubbing Banshee’s ear between your fingers. “That I can do, princess. But uh,” Eddie pauses, “You don’t seem too ecstatic about this.” He points out.

You shrug, glancing over at Eddie, and Eddie wants to kiss your pouty lips because you look adorable swallowed up in a throw blanket with sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “S’cause I’m not,” You huff, “I hate those ignorant assholes— don’t get me wrong, some of them are good friends of mine! But most of them are just…” You make a face and roll your eyes, and Eddie softly laughs. You let your head lazily turn to gaze at him, “Don says I have to go, though. So I figured I may as well drag someone I actually enjoy being around.” You softly smile.

Eddie’s heart flutters and grows three times the size of his body.

Saturday night comes quicker than most, and Eddie spends nearly an hour digging through his closet. By the time Eddie finds a nice enough shirt to pair with his neatly ironed (to Eddie’s standard, which is probably not very high) slacks, he’s running behind and starts to stress that he won’t pick you up on time, and he’s just totally made an ass of himself.

It’s five o’clock when Eddie gets to your flat, and when he knocks on your door, he’s out of breath because he smokes more than a godman grill, and he skipped every other step on the staircase to get there quicker. He’s thinking of a million ways to apologize for being late, and he thinks he has it right when you open the door, but then— “Oh. Hey Eds! You’re early!”

Eddie huffs, nearly doubling over in exhaustion because he seriously needs to quit smoking, “Wha– early?”

You hold the door open for Eddie to step in and nod. You’re in a white fluffy robe with house boots on, and your hair is tied back, so you have a clear canvas to work with for your makeup. “Yeah, it starts at seven.”

And, oh, what the fuck? Here Eddie was stressing and thinking he’d completely ruined his chances with you because he decided to be an asshat and lose track of time on his video games, but in reality, he’s nearly two hours early?!

“Oh, but now you can help me pick a dress. Come on.”

No, Eddie has zero complaints, actually. He’s grateful that he’s timely challenged, he thinks as you drag him toward your room.

Eddie spends the next thirty minutes or so seated at the foot of your bed, judging whichever dresses you surprise him with from out of your closet.

It isn’t easy to give a solid answer because, well, you look good in all of them. And Eddie’s not even being biased because he’s got a sickening crush on you— no, you genuinely look amazing in every dress.

“Eddie, you’ve said yes to all of them.” You huff. “Because they all look good!” Eddie exclaims.

You frown, resting your hands on your hips and tilting your head at him. Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know why you’re upset with me when it’s technically your fault.” He points out, to which you roll your eyes and jokingly throw a dress at his face.

It takes a while for you to decide; by the time you’ve figured it out, there’s about forty minutes until the event begins.

The dress you landed on is evil, to say the least.

It’s a black puffy babydoll-style dress, except instead of a poofy top half, it’s tight fitting and pushes your chest up to sit nice and pretty, and the straps are thin, and Eddie thinks about the sound you’d make if he just reached out and teasingly snapped it against your skin. Wants to coo when you squirm and mewl and press yourself into him.

And the dress is so short, long enough to cover everything, but you wouldn’t have to bend over very far to flash a lucky person, and the sight of your thighs makes Eddie’s head spin.

He doesn’t know where the courage comes from because Eddie is anything but bold when it comes to people he has ridiculous crushes on, but Eddie couldn’t help himself, watching you bent over the sink as you do your last touch-ups to your makeup, the way your silky thighs rub against one another when you shift to get closer to the mirror— Eddie didn’t stand a chance.

He’s behind you before he knows it, and you’re smiling at him through the mirror, “Almost done, promise.” You say.

Eddie lets his hand slink around your waist, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck, brown eyes fluttering up to hold your gaze through the glass as he kisses your skin before playfully nipping at you. You squeal, curling away from him, and he smiles as you push at him. “You’re cute,” Eddie softly says, and he grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip when you shy away from his gaze, “So pretty.” He adds.

Eddie turns you to face him as he presses you against the bathroom sink. He seeks your lips, but you pout and shake your head, “My lipgloss.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to catch any of the sticky application before sinking to his knees, hands gentle and greedy as they caress your thighs.

Eddie leans forward to kiss the inside of your knee, “Gonna let me taste you, honey?” He hums, leaning in the press a kiss further up the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitches, legs subconsciously spreading wider to accommodate Eddie. Your nails dig into the countertop as you shakily breathe, “W-we’re gonna be late,” You weakly say as Eddie lets his tongue draw shapes in your skin. Eddie hums, sucking the fat of your thigh into his mouth before leaving with a pop, lips brushing against your hot skin as he says, “I’ll be quick. Promise.”

He doesn’t wait for your response as he coasts his hands up your thighs to loop his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down your legs and helping you step out of them.

Eddie doesn’t waste time then; he kisses a sloppy wet trail up the inside of your thigh, fingers digging into the fat of your skin and helping you spread open for him so he can nuzzle his head beneath the fluffy tulle of your dress and begin his task of devouring you. You’re wet, dripping, and throbbing for Eddie’s tongue, and this is the third time that Eddie has found himself licking into you, and god, it never gets fucking old.

The sounds you make, the way you writhe, the tiny gasps you give, and then the way your cunt pulses around his tongue— it’s the pinnacle of Eddie’s night, he already knows.

“E-Eddie— oh,” Your breathy whine makes Eddie stuff his face further into your pussy, nose brushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue into you, your hands scrambling down to sink into Eddie’s hair and tug.

And it took Eddie longer than he’d like to admit to get his hair slicked into the neat bun he’s sporting, but with his tongue plunged deep inside of you and your pretty moans filling his ears, Eddie can’t seem to care that you’re definitely messing up his hard work.

Eddie could spend eternity here, down on his knees, under the dress of your skirt, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. And sure, Eddie makes this conclusion, like, every single time he finds himself between your legs, but can you blame him? You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of dealing with.

You lift a leg to hook over Eddie’s shoulder, the heel of your foot pressing into his shoulder blade and pushing a moan from the depths of Eddie’s chest as he snuggles deeper into you, licking and sucking and nipping.

“S-so close…” You whimper, thighs beginning to quiver on each side of Eddie’s head. He fixes his grip on your hips because Eddie wouldn’t dream of letting you fall in his presence, and you’re standing on your tiptoes when you fumble over the edge, crying out for Eddie as you soak his tongue.

Eddie’s moaning into you, fingers massaging and caressing the thick parts of your hips and thighs as he continues working you through your orgasm. You’re twitching and heavily breathing when Eddie parts his mouth from your slick folds, strings of arousal and spit snapping and falling to his chin. God, it makes Eddie ache in his pants.

He presses sweet and sticky kisses to the insides of your thighs, savoring every moment he has here, breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you, hearing you. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that he looks like a madman when he brings his head out from under your dress, and you giggle, pressing your hand to your lips.

Eddie wants to hear that noise on repeat. Put his headphones on and, like, clean his house or something. Let your giggles play on a constant loop until they’re engrained into the grooves of his brain so he never has to go a second without hearing them.

“What?” Eddie smiles, hands still under your dress and soothingly squeezing the shaky muscles of your thighs. Your eyes are glazed from pleasure, and you look warm as you speak, “I– your hair,” You laugh. You press the wispy curls of Eddie’s bangs back, “I’m so sorry. It looked so nice, and I messed it up.” You happily frown.

Eddie huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your knee and shaking his head, “That’s okay,” He responds, reaching over for your panties to help you slip them back on. “It was for a good cause.” He winks.

Eddie doesn’t frequent fancy parties.

The fanciest event Eddie’s ever been to was a masquerade-themed dinner that he and Jeff snuck into because there were rumors of a big hit producer being there, which, big fucking shocker, they never found him since everyone was in a fucking mask. It was a waste of time, but at least they ate like kings that night.

Besides that, Eddie doesn’t go to fancy places— it’s just not his kind of scene. And it’s not like the event you’ve brought him to tonight is, like, Buckingham Palace tier, but everyone here looks like a million bucks and up, and Eddie’s not quite sure he’s up to that standard.

He would be more worried if you weren’t clinging to him like a koala bear and keeping him in light conversation.

You introduced Eddie to a few of your industry friends, and one or two of them even remembered Eddie from the films he’d done with you, which, Eddie doesn’t know why, but his head grew three times bigger in size from that. And for the most part, you keep to Eddie’s side, pointing out different people from across the room and telling him the lore behind them and whatnot as you share a plate of snacks.

And you love grapes, apparently, because Eddie’s had to get up and refill on them about three times now. “Do you want more?” Eddie asks when he realizes you’re almost done. You glance at him with a small smile as you nod, “I’ll get it this time, though. I want to try some of the cheese.”

So, Eddie nods and keeps an eye on you until the crowd obstructs his view. He busies himself with watching the room, tries to see if he can pick out anyone from any pornos he’s watched before he realizes that’s fucking weird and cringes at himself for being a perv. He finishes his glass of champagne, which Eddie isn’t a champagne guy, but it was either that or whiskey, and Eddie would rather not get shitfaced tonight.

And what’s taking you so long? You’ve been gone for a while now, and Eddie had first thought you maybe made a quick stop at the restrooms, but it’s been more than enough time, and he misses you (as fucking sappy as that is), so he gets up and makes his way to the food bar.

He’s got his empty flute in one hand and the other in his pocket, brown eyes softly scanning the room as he walks. And then he spots you, near the food where you said you’d be, with some guy talking to you, but something isn’t right.

Eddie’s spent enough time with you now to be able to tell when you’re feeling uneasy just by the way you anxiously drag your nail against the length of your thumb, the way your eyes dart around, or the tense pull of your shoulders.

Your gaze lands on Eddie, and your eyes soften, and Eddie doesn’t even have to think twice before he walks over.

The man's back is facing Eddie, so he doesn’t see the curly-headed boy until he steps around and slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you close with a soft smile, “Been looking for you, sweets.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as you sink into him.

“Mm, just catching up with..a friend.”

Eddie doesn’t miss the pause. He looks over to the man you’d been talking to, and you take a breath, “Eddie, this is Chris, a coworker.” You introduce the man. And Eddie remembers that name; he thinks he remembers seeing it on the script of the last film you and Eddie did together— the one where you’d asked Eddie to take over because the other guy was an asshole.

Chris reaches out a hand, “Chris. You must be a good friend of hers?”

Eddie doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that he doesn’t refer to you by your name, or the smug grin on his face, or the sly tone in his voice when he says it.

And Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, okay. He doesn’t know why the words fly out of his mouth or why he didn’t, like, think it through, but suddenly, Eddie’s introducing himself as your boyfriend. Which, Eddie is not your boyfriend. And you’re not his girlfriend.

Eddie would love to be your boyfriend, and he’d love for you to be his girlfriend, but— but you’re not. So, Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, but he does, and god, it’s comedic how the guy's face falls. Eddie can feel your gaze on him, and he panics a little because what if Eddie just crossed the line big time?

Chris’s gaze flickers to you, and his brows raise as you look at him, “So, I take it this is why you’re only doing solo content now?”

Which, fucking gross. That’s definitely none of this meathead guy's business! So what if you’re making solo content only? And why does he know, and why does he care? God, this guy’s a creep.

But also… why are you only doing solo content? Eddie can’t help but wonder. Did something happen? Was it this asshole's fault? Eddie will kill him if he has anything to do with it. You and Eddie have become so close; you tell each other everything about everything, so why didn’t you tell him about this? It’s not a big deal or whatever, but—

“Does it matter?” Shit, Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud.

You’re both looking at Eddie in shock, and Eddie just blinks and waits for an answer.

You take in a deep breath, arm squeezing around Eddie’s as you answer— since this guy can’t take a fucking hint, “Yeah, actually, it is. Just didn’t feel right.” You shrug.

The guy nods, pursing his lips together, “Fair enough. Well, if that ever changes, you know where to find me.” He winks before turning around and leaving. Eddie cringes, and he almost steps forward to say something, to tell him to fuck off somewhere, but your grip tightens around his arms, and Eddie understands that you just want the conversation to be over.

Eddie’s quickly turning his attention to you, though, when you press yourself into his side, “Thank you.” You sweetly say.

Eddie nods, a warm hand reaching up to squeeze your hand that's resting over his bicep, “Don’t sweat it, princess. That guy’s a douche.” And you huff, nodding your head, “Yeah. You definitely scared him, though. It was pretty hot.”

Eddie tries not to let that get to his head.

He fails.

The rest of the night goes well with fewer dickhead run-ins and more grapes, and Eddie is more than Elated when you say it’s time to go.

The ride home is pleasant, and you’ve been extra cuddly all night, so Eddie’s heart is practically the size of Texas when you bring his hand into your lap and slink your fingers together. You’re spending the night, so Eddie’s kind of excited to get in bed and snuggle until you both pass out— but then Eddie’s thrown in for a loop when you both get under his covers.

Banshee is busy in her bakery down at the foot of the bed, kneading little biscuits in preparation for her sleep, and you’re fresh-faced and wrapped in one of Eddie’s shirts when you look over at him with a teasing look, “So,” you start, “You’re my boyfriend.”

Eddie blinks at you, wishing the bed would just let him sink in and become one with the mattress. “Oh god,” He groans, pressing his hands to his face, “I’m sorry, it just came out! That guy was being a dick, and it was the first thing that I thought of, and— god, I’m sorry.” He drags his hands over his face and shoots you an empathetic look. “You can totally, like, kick me in the nuts.”

And Eddie kind of braces himself for you to chew him out or something; tell him he’s a weirdo, and he’ll never in a million years get to call himself your boyfriend because you’re way out of his league. But then you giggle.

And it’s not the teasing ‘get a load of this loser’ giggle— no, it’s your sweet, kind, and adoring giggle.

“No, no. I was… I was wondering when you would ask, actually.”

Eddie’s never turned his head so fast. He thinks he imagined you saying it, like, maybe he drank too much champagne even though he literally only had less than two full glasses the entire night. “Huh? I– w-what do you mean?” Eddie gapes. “Like… like, ask you to be my girlfriend?”

And you’re so cute as you shyly nod, glancing at Eddie with this expectant gaze.

“Shit, well uh, I-I wanted to ask you in like a bigger way. Like flowers and shit because I… well, I really like you, and it’s what you deserve and—”

You cut Eddie off with a laugh and scoot closer to him, and if Eddie’s heart beats any faster, he might die. “Eddie,” You lowly and softly say, holding his gaze. Eddie nods, eyes darting down to your lips as he holds his breath. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Shit, Eddie’s never said yes so quickly in his life.

————

a/n: HELLOOO! if you have made it to the end of this awfully long baby i am so thankful and appreciative of you, these two are my babies so I hope you enjoyed them as much as I've enjoyed my time with them <3 as always, thank u for reading and being here, i love and appreciate any feedback, ILYSM MWAH <3

————

cutie teeny taglist: @vol2eddie @paleidiot @hideoutside

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 years ago

Text

Eddie does this... thing. Steve isn't sure if there's a name for it. Or if it's just a thing. Robin always jokes that Eddie's autism is showing. And he just snorts at her and shakes his head, but he keeps doing it, his cheeks tinted pink.

He counts things.

They aren't always things everyone can see. About half the time Eddie is just counting in his head. But he mumbles the numbers outloud, barely audible. But Steve hears it. Steve can't hear much, most of the time, but he somehow always manages to hear Eddie counting. Or at least notices his lips moving, numbers rolling off them genlty.

It calms him down. Steve noticed that fast. Eddie would count his breathing during panic attacks and then when he helped Steve or Robin through their panic attacks, and somewhere along the line, Steve just started, counting along with him.

Not outloud. And Eddie hadn't noticed him nodding along to the counting, not yet at least. But it never failed. Eddie would start counting and Steve's brain would follow along happily.

They're sitting on Eddie's couch. It's the middle of summer. The air outside is hot and sticky. The air in the trailer isn't much better. But Steve had brought over his personal air conditioner that had been sitting in the garage not being used for years. Eddie had protested but Steve refused to take it back.

The living room was cooler than it had been the last few days. The sun had just gone down. Eddie's thigh was pressed against his, like it normally was these days, heat or not. Eddie would sit himself next to Steve, their sides smooshed together. Steve hadn't moved away, not once, despite the heat.

Eddie was wearing a cut off shirt, Steve was in jean shorts and a lightweight yellow t-shirt. Some movie Steve had never seen was on the tv, but all Steve could focus on was the way Eddie was pressed against him. The warmth of his skin seeping into his ribs.

And then Eddie starts counting.

Steve smiles to himself. Following along. Glancing at Eddie carefully when his counting pauses, like he was searching for the next thing he was counting. Steve had never been brave enough to ask about it. Was just happy Eddie felt safe enough around him to let him hear it at all.

And then Eddie's fingers hit Steve's arm and he can't breathe. Eddie's finger tips walk up his arm, pressing genlty at certain points as they go. Steve's heart flutters when Eddie's fingers press up under his shirt, curl in the material and shove it up as Eddie mumbles,

"Can I just-" between numbers. He smiles when he gets Steve's sleeve up over his shoulder, his fingers poking at Steve's skin as he counts. And it clicks.

He's counting Steve's freckles.

His fingers dancing over his skin as he counts, whispering numbers as he turns on his couch cushion, his knee pressing hard into Steve's thigh. Steve doesn't care. Steve doesn't feel it.

All Steve can feel is Eddie's breath ghosting over his warm skin as he counts. His chilly fingertips, and warm breath, causing goosebumps to spead, making Steve shiver.

He swallows, hard, as Eddie's fingers poke the moles on his neck. Steve smiles when Eddie whispers to himself.

"Lil vampire bite." He says, moving one finger across them genlty. Steve clenches his fists, presses them into his thighs, tries to stay still. To let Eddie stay in this world he's in. Because he's lost right now. Steve knows he is. He's a touchy feely guy, but this, this is different.

He's lost in his counting. Lost in Steve. It's fucking intoxicating. Steve could live in this bubble forever, all of Eddie's attention on him like he's the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

Steve reminds himself to breathe at the wrong moment. Eddie's fingers move over his cheek, he's almost reached thirty, and Steve honestly didn't know he had that many freckles and moles. But he learns new things about himself from Eddie everyday. He sucks in air as Eddie's fingers press into his cheek and Eddie startles.

His hand jerks back, his eyes flutter and then lock onto Steve's. Because he'd been watching Eddie. Watching Eddie look at him. And Eddie swallows hard, his fist clenching in the air before he pulls it to his chest. Holds it there with his other hand, his cheeks now a deep pink, Steve can see it crawling up to his ears.

"Shit. Sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. Fuck." He breathes, looks into his lap. And Steve smiles. Can't help it. He reaches out, his fingers curling around Eddie's wrist.

Eddie's eyes snap to him, wide, and nervous, as he watches Steve move his hand back to his face. He presses Eddie's palm to his cheek, nuzzles into the touch.

"You can keep going. You were at... twenty seven, I think." Steve whispers, not wanting to break the quiet bubble they've settled into. Eddie blinks at him. Steve feels his fingers twitch against his face.

"Twenty....seven?" Eddie says it like a question. Unsure. Confused.

"You were counting again." Steve says, leans further into Eddie's hand. He hears Eddie's breath shutter.

"I was touching you." Eddie says, his brows furrowing, like he's still confused.

"I know. I liked it." Steve assures, nodding his head, letting Eddie feel it against his hand.

"Yeah?" He breathes.

"Yeah. Of course." Steve turns a little then, facing him more.

"I like when you count too." Steve admits. Finally. Eddie's nose scrunches, he snorts, and Steve lets him have his hand back. He lets his fall to Steve's shoulder, his fingers almost instantly tangling in the hair at the back of Steve's neck. They find their way there most nights Steve is here, his hand on the back of the couch always finding Steve somehow.

"No you don't. No one does. It annoys people. It's weird." Eddie shakes his head, but he's smiling, and blushing, and Steve wants to kiss his bright red cheeks, wants to feel their warmth against his lips.

"It's addicting." Steve counters. Eddie's eyes widen.

"Is it?" He sounds shocked. Steve nods.

"Yeah. I do it all the time now. Even when you aren't doing it. Or aren't even around. I just... count things. You were right. It's calming." Steve says, his hands finding Eddie's, moving his fingers across Eddie's rings.

"You said it was addicting." Eddie mumbled.

"What?"

"You said it was addicting. The counting." Eddie says, finally looking up from his lap. His eyes soft when they find Steve's.

"Oh. Guess I did yeah. Is that... is that bad?" Steve asks, turning one of Eddie's rings around his finger. Eddie shakes his head, once, the red tint crawling down his neck now. The hand Steve's not fiddling with finds its way to the back of Eddie's neck, he rubs the skin there and blinks a few times before looking into his lap again.

"No. Just... no one's ever called anything about me addicting before. Annoying? Yes. Addicting? Not so much. But you did. And you said it like-" Eddie's teeth dig into his bottom lip.

"Like what?" Steve nudges his knee into Eddie, fighting not to smile.

"Like it was a good thing. I guess?" Eddie shrugs. Steve reaches up then, lets go of Eddie's hand and cups his cheek instead, lifting his head so Eddie can see him.

"It is a good thing. The best thing. I could listen to you count all day." Steve smiles then, mirroring Eddie as he laughs a little.

"Oh yeah? You might regret that. I've actually been trying to hold back on it. I know I do it a lot." Eddie shakes his head, frowns a little. Steve moves, presses closer, shakes his head.

"Don't. Don't hold back. Count whatever you want. Whenever you want." He breathes between them.

"Okay." Eddie says, hesitant, he sounds nervous. Steve pulls back a bit, brows furrowed, and then Eddie darts forward, presses his lips to Steve's cheek.

"One." He says when he's settled back on his cushion. His cheeks even more red than before. Steve snorts, opens his mouth to say something but Eddie moves again. His lips hit next to Steve's eyebrow.

"Two."

He presses his lips close to Steve's ear.

"Three." Steve laughs. Eddie kissed his neck twice.

"Four. Five." He breathes, as Steve catches him, doesn't let him settle back down this time. Keeps him close. One hand on the back of Eddie's neck, one hand trailing his fingertips over Eddie's nose, and his cheeks.

"You've got them too ya know? Not like mine. But ... little ones. All over." Steve breathes, his fingers moving slowly over Eddie face until they linger on his lips. Just for a moment, before he cupped Eddie's cheek.

"You wanna count 'em?" Eddie asks, he sounds breathless, and Steve had barely touched him. They were both on their knees now. Their chests nearly pressed together.

"Maybe later. Got something better in mind right now." Steve breathes, eyes dropping to Eddie's mouth. He watches Eddie gulp and smiles.

"Oh yeah? L-like what?" Eddie stammers. His hands grabbing at Steve's waist to keep himself steady.

"Probably better if I just show you." Steve sighs, presses his forehead to Eddie's.

"Okay. Yeah. I'm- I'm definitely a learn by example kinda guy. So that's- that works for me." Eddie rambles, his mouth moving a mile a minute. Steve moves his nose along Eddie's and nods.

"Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. I can do that." Steve agrees, not sure what he's really agreeing too, he just knows he wants to kiss this boy. His friend. Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie so bad. Has for awhile now. He feels Eddie's hands, one of them moving to his shoulder where his sleeve is still pulled up, Eddie's palm is warm on his arm.

Eddie huffs a nervous laugh and that's all it takes.

Steve kisses him. Gently. Eddie's lips fumble against his for a moment. His inexperience making Steve's stomach flutter. His hands grab at Eddie, pull him closer. Eddie whines against his lips and Steve pulls back, doesn't want to overwhelm him too much.

Eddie drops his head to Steve's shoulder with a breathy laugh. Steve pets at his hair, curls his fingers into it like he's wanted to for ages and pulls genlty, so he can look at Eddie's face.

"You okay?" He asks. Eddie nods, smiles.

"Six." He says, his cheeks dimpling. Steve smiles back, shakes his head. Presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie's nose.

"Seven." Eddie says, no hesitation. Steve swears he honest to god giggles, but would never admit it to anyone.

Eddie's eyes tint with a mix of mischief and seriousness that's all his own as his fingers curl around the hem of Steve shirt.

"Okay seriously though take this off, I wasn't done counting." His voice is completely serious. And Steve, feeling brave, decides to match it, and tugs his shirt up over his head, careful not to hit Eddie in the face. Eddie barks a manic sounding laugh as Steve falls back, pulling Eddie down too, so that he's stradling him.

"Go on then. Count away." Steve shoves his hands under his head, smiles up at Eddie as he looks wide eyed down at Steve. He's bright red, but then his eyes focus, and his hands move to gently touch the skin covering Steve's ribs. His finger tips press down, tickling a bit, as he whispers,

"Twenty eight." His eyes jump to Steve's face, he gives him an encouraging nod, and that's all Eddie needs apparently. Because he starts counting in earnest, his hands moving over Steve's freckles quickly. Numbers falling past his lips, his counting calming Steve the way almost nothing else does.

He gets to fifty and stops. Leans down and presses a kiss to Steve's shoulder.

"Eight." He whispers, and then keeps going. He kisses and counts his way across Steve's skin until he's laying on top of Steve, his hand in his hair. Pressing gentle kisses into Steve's neck as he smiles into Eddie's shoulder, the little voice in his head counting along, in sync with Eddie in a way he'd never expected to be, feeling content as Eddie's numbers become more garbled. Until they fade completely as Eddie drifts off, his breath heavy on Steve's neck.

Steve smiles, moves them a bit so they're settled on the couch a bit better. Eddie doesn't wake. Steve watches him sleep. Soothes his fingers over the crease in Eddie's eyebrows until it smooths out and he melts further into the couch. He smiles at him, closes his eyes as Eddie's arm squeezes around him, pulling him closer. Steve sighs, sinks deeper into the couch as he feels sleep dragging him under. But not before he mumbles, sleepy and soft,

"One." Making sure he marks this. The first time they fall asleep tangled together, the smile on his lips fading as he drifts off to sleep, dreaming of all the never ending numbers in their future.

#steddie #Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #autistic eddie munson #inexperienced eddie munson #steddie blurb #my writing #mine #my fic #steddie fic

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littlexdeaths · 1 year ago

Text

pushing up daisies - e.m.

kas eddie munson x fem reader

treat me bad like i’m no one's daughter,

body bag, baby, i’m a goner…

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: ANGSTTTTT, mentions of eddie’s death and the upside down, canon divergent (reader is chosen as vecna’s last victim instead of max), established relationship, soft!dom eddie, biting/blood drinking, lil bit of jealous eddie, public sex, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

based on love is a… by pvris

word count: 2.9k

a/n: this is honestly something i am so incredibly proud of, so i hope you all enjoy it. a big thank you to my babes @undead-supernova @strangerstilinski and @lokis-army-77 for helping me with parts of this fic, i love you all so much 💕

The sky was dark, storm clouds rolling in as you trudged through the rusted gates of Hawkin’s memorial cemetery.

Only the booming sounds of thunder and your labored breathing filled the morning air. Rain droplets poured steadily onto your head, dripping down the collar of your rain jacket. The clothing seemingly useless as the heavy rain soaked you to the bone.

The wild daisies clutched in your fist were beginning to wilt as your eyes scanned over the sea of headstones. Your throat tightens once you find his, now wishing that Dustin had been lying to you.

The words BURN IN HELL FREAK were still visible, despite the male’s best effort to clean them off the previous day. It had been less than a week since the funeral, but that was plenty of time for someone to vandalize his headstone. You hated this town.

Reaching the now desecrated grave you sigh, gently running your fingers along the top of the headstone. The rough edges scraped against your fingertips as you knelt down in front of it. Letting your hand fall into your lap, glancing down at the sad excuse of a bouquet in the other.

He deserved more than this… he deserved more than anything this shitty town had to offer.

“Hey Eds,” you whisper, despite the desolation surrounding you.

You carefully set the daisies onto the ground, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill past your waterline. The white of the flowers contrasted sharply against the dirt, which was quickly turning to mud beneath your knees. But you didn’t mind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the funeral,” guilt laces your shaky voice as you tug your lower lip between your teeth. “I just… I couldn’t see you like that.”

Despite the feeble attempts that Dustin and Robin made to coax you out of bed that day, nothing was going to change your mind. You didn’t want to remember him that way, as you were already grappling with the image of him dying in Dustin’s arms.

A memory that haunts your dreams every night.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you mumble, reaching into your pocket to pull out his lucky set of dice. A sad smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you begin to place them along his headstone, “I brought a peace offering.”

A loud crack has your eyes flicking up, body jolting in surprise as a bolt of lightning strikes a tree in the distance. The impact splits the trunk down the middle, the wind picking up speed and taking your flowers with it.

The torn petals spread across the unkempt ground, the gesture now ruined. Just like everything else you touched.

You blame yourself for his death, knowing he would still be here if Vecna hadn't chosen you. You would live through a thousand years in a prison of your own mind, let that monster drain you of your entire existence— if it meant Eddie would have lived.

“It’s all my fault,” you don’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, staring intently at the stone in front of you.

Edward Lee Munson, now at peace.

Those bold words stare back at you, mirroring the stone that sat just a few feet besides his. One you had become very familiar with over the years.

Elizabeth Ann Munson.

Beloved wife and mother, may she rest in peace.

While hers were more faded, they still brought you a small sense of comfort. Knowing that Eddie was with her now, he was safe. But that comfort wouldn’t heal the hole that had been punched through your chest.

“I miss you,” you hiccup, your tears steadily flowing now, the moisture beginning to blur your vision. “It w-wasn’t supposed to b-be you.”

Your soft cries soon morphed into pained sobbing, your shoulders hunched over as you dug your fists into the earth. You were grateful that Steve had let you come alone, not wanting anyone to see you like this.

In the short time that Eddie had been gone, you felt suffocated. With Vecna still alive and plotting, you were constantly being watched. Your friends not knowing if the demon, creature, whatever he was— would come back to claim you for good.

Part of you hoped for it, mentally pleaded to be taken away too. Because a life without Eddie, wasn’t a life you wanted to live.

A loud scream pierces the air, and it takes you a moment to realize the sound has come from you. Your chest heaves from the force of it, allowing your head to tilt back as your eyes slip shut. Enjoying how the rain soaks into your pores, washing away any trace of your tears.

You sit like that for a while, as the storm continues to wage on around you. Silently wishing that the rain would wash you away too. Dirt is caked under your fingernails, mud coated your shins and the hem of your skirt. You knew you couldn’t sit out here much longer, as your teeth started to chatter from the cold.

Your head falls forward, allowing yourself one last look at his headstone. The red paint has stained it horribly, tainting the last thing he had left in this world.

“I’ll come back tomorrow and clean this shit up, I promise.” You say, lifting up your pinky towards the block of stone. You hold it there for a moment before your hand falls back to your side.

“I love you, Eddie,” you sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you start to stand. Turning around as you begin to wipe the dirt from your knees.

As you take a step forward your shoe begins to sink into the wet soil, almost swallowing your foot whole. An annoyed huff leaves your lips as you try to pull it back out. But any attempt is stopped short as a cold hand wraps around your other ankle. A deep groan echoes in your ears as your eyes widen in fear.

This was it… Vecna’s come back for you.

While everything inside you begs you to run, your body remains frozen. Hyperventilating as the ground beneath you begins to shift, your feet sinking in deeper as another body fights its way out from the earth. A strained grunt of your name snaps you out of your petrified state, recognizing the voice immediately.

This was a cruel joke, knowing he was taking on Eddie’s form just to hurt you more. So you decided you wouldn’t stick around to witness it.

If you were going to die, it would be by his own hands.

“No!” You shout, yanking your ankle out of that icy grip as you make a break for it.

You don’t make it very far though, only reaching the edge of his grave before you lose your footing. The tip of your shoe catches on a tree root, sending your body tumbling forward onto the wet ground. The impact knocks the wind out of you as you struggle to take a breath in. Your nails dig into the grass for purchase as you try to crawl away.

The feeling of two hands wrapping around each ankle has you screaming, thrashing about as you're dragged back towards the grave. The male flips you around, unable to hear his broken pleas over the sound of your own shrieks. You keep your eyes focused on the storm clouds above your heads, desperate for some kind of distraction. You wouldn’t look at him, you couldn’t.

This wasn’t your Eddie.

A dirty hand grips onto your chin, tilting your head down as he wedges his body between your thighs. Forcing you to face him, his dark eyes ablaze with fury— a sharp contrast to the way he gently cradles your jaw.

“I’m not in the mood for games… just get on with it,” you snap, letting your eyes slip shut as you wait for that familiar pain to shoot up your spine and through your skull.

But nothing happens.

You crack an eye open only to find the brunette staring back down at you, confusion coating his features.

“… get on with what, sweetheart?” His voice cracks, the look on his face mirroring his tone.

“Killing me,” you state, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

There’s a moment of silence between you before he starts laughing, the booming sound instantly melts your insides. It was something you thought you would never hear again.

“I guess my entrance was very Night of the Living Dead, huh?” He teases with a wide grin as his head dips lower— his drenched curls sticking to your cheek.

When you feel Eddie’s lips connect with the base of your throat, your breath hitches. Heat pools in your middle as he inhales, groaning deeply. The sound vibrates against your skin, sending shockwaves through your system.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he hums, his hands running down the length of your sides. The male grips onto the soaked fabric of your dress, slowly inching it up until his palms are splayed across the tops of your thighs.

“You’re so warm,” he continues, his nose grazing along your collarbone as you grip onto the shoulders of his oversized suit jacket.

“H-How are you here?” You question with a small whine as he lightly nips at your throat, chuckling deeply.

“You brought me here, sweetheart.” His words are spoken reassuringly, but they don’t offer you any comfort.

“So, this is a dream,” there’s no question in your voice, only a trace of melancholy.

But Eddie notices it immediately, his head lifting from the crook of your neck. His dark eyes met yours for a moment, a look of determination flashing through his irises.

“Does this feel like a dream to you, baby?”

Before you can reply, his lips brush against yours. Any worries that this wasn’t real melt away with each press of his mouth on yours. Silencing the fear that this will all disappear the moment you pull apart. The storm rages on as he kisses you with an electricity that rivals the lightning above you.

“Definitely not a dream,” you mumble, earning a soft chuckle from him.

You swallow the sound as you kiss him deeper, his ringed fingers gliding further up your thighs and under your dress. Your own slip underneath the collar of his jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. Letting the rain soak into his white dress shirt, the fabric clinging to the muscles in his back.

Your hands quickly rake through his hair, tugging on the drenched curls as his mouth trails along your jaw. Continuing lower as he sucks harshly on your skin, enjoying the way your body responds to each press of his lips. A breathy whine spills past your own as his fingers reach the elastic band of your panties.

The tension between you continues to mount as you eagerly drag his mouth back to yours. Eddie’s fingers curl under the waistband, snapping the lace against your skin. You barely register the tearing of that same fabric, too preoccupied with his lips on yours. The clinking of his belt soon follows, aiding him in pushing his slacks down his thighs.

“Please,” you plead, lifting your hips against his. Not wanting to waste another second to have him buried inside you.

The brunette gently shushes you, pulling back for a moment as he rubs the tip of cock through your drenched folds. His pupils dilate as he takes in the way your lips part under his thumb. A shaky breath escapes them as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he coos, caressing your cheek as he guides his hips forward. Slowly slipping into your awaiting heat with a strangled groan, “I’ll take care of you.”

His actions are gentle, as your bodies become reacquainted with each other. Eddie guides your hands above your head, fingers lacing together in the dirt. Your thighs are snug around his hips, desperate to keep him as close as humanly possible.

He rocks his hips into yours at a deep but leisurely pace, letting him savor every moment he spends inside you. As neither of you know what will happen after this is all over, it’s not something you want to think about.

Being here, in this moment, with him is the only thing that mattered to you.

The ferocity of the storm drowns out the cries that leave your lips, much different from the agonized ones you had let out earlier. Everything feels heightened, pleasure coursing through your veins with each stroke of his cock.

There’s a sudden shift in his demeanor as his eyes glaze over with an almost dangerous glint. Similar to that of a predator who had locked eyes on his prey. Your heart rate increases as a deep growl permeates the air. His fingers slip out of yours, instead digging into the soil beside you as his body goes rigid.

The brown of his irises disappear from view as he squeezes them shut, worry beginning to fill your chest. Your hands reach up to cradle his face, feeling how tightly his jaw was clenched underneath your fingertips.

“Eds,” you call softly, but the male remains frozen above you— a statue of Adonis.

He was losing control, ready to slip through your fingers. But you had already lost him once, and you weren't about to let it happen again.

“Stay with me,” you implore, softly pressing your lips against the furrow between his eyes. Brushing the dirt from his cheeks as you continue to trail tender kisses across his face.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally speaks as your lips hover over his, your breath mingling together.

“You won’t,” you promise as your nose nudges against his.

Eddie seems reluctant as he opens his eyes, crimson beginning to bleed into his irises. “But there’s something different…” he trails off, searching for any trace of fear reflecting in your eyes. “I’m different.”

“I don’t care,” you don’t miss a beat, capturing his lips with yours once more.

He moans into your mouth, hands encircling your waist as you lift your hips, encouraging him to thrust deeper inside you. Your tongue slips past his lips, gliding along his front teeth. Coming to a sudden realization as you feel the pointed edge of his canines.

Logically you should feel frightened, but it seems to have the opposite effect on you. Your kisses become frantic as your walls flutter around his shaft, the sensation causing him to moan out your name. The pace of his hips quickens as your nails dig into the drenched dress shirt covering his back.

Your lips separate as you gasp, his cock hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. The both of you falling closer to that precipice with each thrust of his hips. But it’s not quite enough, needing to connect with him on a new level.

Eddie peers down at you in awe as your head falls back, baring your throat to him. “Do it,” you insist, guiding his mouth towards your neck.

You can sense his hesitation, his lips ghosting over your skin instead.

“Please, Eddie,” you beg, his groan vibrating against your throat. “I want you to.”

The sincerity in your tone squashes any doubts still lingering in his head. Allowing his teeth to graze against your tender flesh, testing his resolve.

“I trust you,” is what he needs to hear before he sinks his teeth into your neck.

Your body arches into his chest, trembling as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you— pulling you under completely. Eddie drinks from you greedily, continuing to work you through your high as his own steadily approaches.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he moans as his teeth detach themselves from your throat.

His tongue darts out, lapping up the blood that begins to trickle down the curve of your neck. The sight of his mark on you is almost enough to send him over the edge. But your pretty whines are the final nail in his coffin, hips stuttering as he fills you with his warmth.

“I love you.”

Those three little words are whispered against your collarbone as the male collapses onto you. A content smile spreads across your face as your fingers card themselves through his curls. The both of you soaking up this moment of bliss for as long as you can.

The rain above your heads has finally slowed to a drizzle, the pitter patter of the droplets matching your heartbeat. You don’t know how long you laid there like this, bodies intertwined on his grave.

But it didn’t matter, as long as it was him you were entangled with.

“I love you too,” you reply a while later, the male humming as he lifts his face from the crook of your neck, crimson smeared across his lips.

A fond look falls over his features as he leans down to kiss you again, the metallic taste of you lingering on his mouth. A thought suddenly occurs to you, causing you to giggle against his lips.

“What’s so funny, sweetness?” He muses, pulling away from you with a raised brow. You tuck a loose curl behind his ear, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Just trying to think of how to explain this to Steve.” You watch in amusement as a scowl appears on his face.

“Poor thing is gonna think I was mauled by a wild animal,” you tease, gesturing to the bite mark on your neck.

You see a flash of jealousy in his eyes, a low growl rumbles through his chest as his lips reattach themselves to your throat— causing you to squeal.

“Harrington’s just gonna have to deal with it,” he answered smugly, hugging your body closer to his.

The both of you completely unaware of the looming figure watching you from the tree line.

tagging some lovelies: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @nailbatanddungeon @vecslut @likedovesinthewnd @lofaewrites

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #kas!eddie munson x reader #kas!eddie munson #[ the munson files ]

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year ago

Text

❤️

You're tired of hearing about Eddie's crushes, hiding your feelings for him. Sick of feeling second best, you decide to move on.

Beer, a pool, and a very handsome Steve Harrington happens. Eddie isn't so thrilled about the Steve part.

Just a lil two parter to get back into writing

Part one

Eventual Eddie Munson x Reader

Steve Harrington x Reader

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work

❤️

It was a rainy Tuesday when Eddie broke your heart. Unknowingly, but it was broken all the same.

He had came to the Hellfire table in a suspiciously good mood. Beaming smile, eyes shining with happiness.

Turns out he had ran into Jessie who was his newest crush, she was the coolest, most badass babe on the planet according to Eddie.

This had been repeated constantly for the last few weeks and usually you were able to smile politely, pretend you weren't dying inside hearing him talk about his dream girl.

It had been this way for a year now, through multiple crushes, a few hook ups and one near potential girlfriend for Eddie, so you could push yourself to be happy for him one more time right?

No, today it was like your heart finally had enough, a deep ache was building inside you and felt like all the pain was exploding inside of you all at once.

Tears pool in your eyes and you catch the sympathetic look that Dustin throws in your direction. It's enough to sober you up instantly.

You didn't want to constantly pine over Eddie when he didn't want you, it was agony being so completely smitten with someone who noticed every woman but you.

It was like something in you just snapped and you had enough.

"Hey princess, you okay?" Eddie's voice breaks through your reverie and you startle a little as he peers at you intently with his big brown eyes.

His hand is on yours and your whole body feels alight at just his slightest touch, it was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings, Eddie could be extremely perceptive when he wanted to be.

You needed to get over how you felt about him and soon, because you were sick of the constant heartache, second guessing yourself and feeling second best to Eddie's crushes.

Moving on would be a good thing. You couldn't take it if Eddie ever found out how you felt about him, embarrassment burns inside of you just thinking about his reaction, and how awkward Hellfire would be due to his rejection.

No, it was best for everyone if you found a way to get over Eddie.

❤️

Normally you didn't go to parties, especially not parties on a school night. However, there was a small part of you that wanted a change, to have some fun and let loose.

One of Jason's friends was throwing a party at his house, there was beer kegs, wine coolers and the biggest pool you had ever seen in your life.

Eddie was at the party to do his usual dealings, he catches your eye and looks stunned for a brief second.

"What are you doing here sweetheart? Parties aren't usually your thing?" you shrug and grab a bottle of beer.

"Just wanted a change of scenery I guess" it's then you notice that Jessie was also at the party and Eddie had noticed judging by the way his eyes light up.

Your heart sinks and you're about to make an escape until Eddie tugs on your hand.

"Hey, maybe you should stick close to me incase one of Jason's dipshit friends tries anything" you smile, touched at his protectiveness but you know deep down he'd rather be talking to Jessie than trailing after you all night.

"It's okay. I saw Robin by the pool so I'll go and chat to her for a bit" he's about to say something else but Jessie comes over and takes up all of his attention.

Yup, it's definitely your time to leave. There's no way you wanted to be around for Eddie making googly eyes at Jessie.

❤️

Between the pounding music, Eddie and Jessie and the fact you've lost Robin in the crowd, it was safe to say that the first hour of the party was a bust.

By the second hour you had gotten involved in a game of beer pong with Robin, Steve, Vickie and a few others.

At first you were kinda wary hanging out with Steve but you soon found out that he had changed so much from the King Steve of a few years ago.

He's kind, funny and kind, genuinely a good guy and him and Robin are like two peas in a pod. Platonic besties with a capital P she tells you and Vickie.

It's nice hanging out with them because everytime you see Jessie and Eddie together it needled at the ache in your heart.

Eddie joins in at one point but seems tense.

"Why are hanging out with Harrington?'' he hisses under his breath and you scowl.

"He's really nice" Eddie scoffs at this.

"Preppy, rich, douchebag? he's seen dating total babes every few weeks." you stiffen.

"Of course so why would he be seen with me right?" you ask heatedly and his eyes widen.

"That's not what I meant... You're beautiful sweetheart..." yeah but just a friend you finish his sentence in your head.

"Just forget it Eddie, go back to Jessie" you hurry away from him and curse yourself for getting so upset.

Steve notices and asks if you want to hang out in the pool.

It's quieter outside than in the house, people are just lazing around lightly buzzed, lost in their own conversations.

Steve makes you laugh by jumping in the pool fully clothed, he lets out a yell when he hits the water.

"Fuck, its freezing" and you swear you hear Robin calling him a dingus. The thought makes you smile.

"So Munson huh?" Steve asks gently and your smile vanishes.

"Mmm, tonight was my big plan to get over him. Didn't work out so well" There's a brief moment of silence that's broken when Steve takes you by surprise and you're suddenly in the pool beside him, soaking wet and torn between laughter and exasperation.

"Steve!" you huff out and his answering smile tugs at your heart. There's also something you didn't expect, a spark.

He moves closer to you and it's like the two of you are magnets. Steve strokes your cheek and his lips meet yours.

It's nice, it's really really nice and you moan softly as Steve gently tugs at your lower lip, deepens the kiss and pulls you even closer.

Steve pulls away and you both exchange a secret, shy smile at the moment you had.

You kiss him again and this time it's a little more hot and heavy. Only this time when you come apart, you're not alone.

Eddie has just come outside. He's staring at you and Steve, his expression blank but you notice something stirring deep in his eyes, a flash of emotion that you can't place.

Then it's gone and he storms back inside..

🖤

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you

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spotsandsocks · 3 months ago

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Evan with a B update! 🌳🏡🌳

Chapter 5 10.9k

After all the drama of redcurrant wine and saving lives, day to day life in Avonlea carries on and there are no new disasters for Buck to deal with, unless of course you count the guests staying with the Diazes.

One of those guests causes a change to the status quo at school and leads to an unlikely alliance.

Buck deals with those changes and learns that people and feelings can be extremely confusing and even kindred spirits can have their ups and downs.

A lil peek at the start of chapt 5…

It’s not that he’s jealous - he isn’t, or that he’s not willing to share Eddie’s time - he is. He actually has to share Eddie with a lot of people, all the time, everyone thinks he’s great, and why wouldn’t they; he’s polite, respectful to adults, he helps anyone who asks him and he’s kind. He fixes scraped knees and elbows with a smile and gentle fingers whenever the little ones trip over playing.

Everyone loves Eddie Diaz. He has perfect skin and excellently tousled curls that have strands of gold in them. He always knows what to say to people and he has a nice smile and of course he’s very smart and his eyes are kind and warm and make you feel safe. He can make you laugh too, until your belly hurts. He’s just the best so of course he’s popular; the boys like Eddie, the girls like Eddie, the adults like Eddie.

Everyone likes boys like Eddie Diaz while the same can not be said for boys like Evan Buckley. Not that he minds not being popular, Eddie likes him and that’s good enough for him.

So yes, he’s used to sharing Eddie, he has absolutely no problem sharing Eddie but he's gotten used to having a best friend who’s around and she is getting in the way of that.

Buck would say that since having arrived on Prince Edward Island he’s matured into a very reasonable individual but if he has to watch Ana Flores arrive at school all smiles and eyelashes with Eddie carrying her books one more time, he may not be responsible for his actions.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie wip #911 abc #buddie fic #911 fic #911fic #evan buck buckley #Anne with e au #Evan with a b #eddie x Buck #surprise random Friday update

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mintedwitcher · 1 year ago

Note

Honestly ATP I'm 100% that Tommy is around so gone on Buck that I'm scared for him a lil ngl askskdkd like baby protect your heart a bit, yeah? God knows i love Buck but that boy has an abysmal track record when it comes to romantic relationships.

Anyways I wanna wrap this stadge of their relationship in a blanket coz it's so sweet and I'm just loving it.

In Buck's defence, his abysmal track record is more to do with his partners than himself.

Abby ghosted him. Ali dumped him because he wouldn't leave his job after the truck bomb and she couldn't handle it. Taylor manipulated him, used him and his friends for intel on a story to boost her own career with no thought for the consequences (and before they dated she used and manipulated him for sex). And Natalia was only ever interested in him for his death.

None of that is Buck's fault.

As for Tommy.... I think he IS still protecting himself, as much as he can with how smitten he is about Buck. Tommy called off their first date because he could see how uncomfortable Buck was, and realised that Buck wasn't ready yet. Tommy took the step back and left the ball in Buck's court, leaving the decision about their relationship entirely in Buck's hands. And since then, he has been careful with Buck.

You can see in the cafe date scene that he's tense, he's holding himself stiffly for most of the interaction because he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. The "I like you, but." The "I can't do this." Or worse, the "As long as no one knows, okay?" Because let's be real, if you're queer and dating, you've probably heard some variation of all three of those statements before. And so Tommy is nervous. He's got his hands in his lap. His shoulders are tight. He's joking along and teasing but he's not Fully there yet and you can SEE it. It's not until Buck says "I think that something could be with you" that he actually breathes and relaxes, even as he double checks.

In the bachelor party scene, Tommy could have greeted Buck with a cheek kiss or something chaste like that. They're basically alone. Eddie knows they're together so they're not accidentally outing anyone. But he goes for a hug. It's tender and sweet still but it's Just a hug. It's not even a long one. Tommy's still playing it safe. He likes Buck so much and Buck visibly lights up when he sees Tommy, but Tommy isn't about to go rushing in. When he leaves the party he makes sure Buck knows that it's actually about a call - he even shows Buck his phone as proof - and leaves with another hug.

Tommy's protecting himself, but he's also protecting Buck. And that makes me a particular kind of feral. Because Buck has always been the type to cling. Only now, he has someone who wants to cling right back.

#asks #anon #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #i had more to say but i lost it

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strangersteddierthings · 2 years ago

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Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

The saving grace for Steve here is that all eyes are on Eddie, so no one witnesses how he freezes, just for a moment, when Eddie tells them who the 'she' is he's been referring to. How he just wanted to help her. Help Chrissy. Whatever Eddie has been saying has turned to buzzing, to white noise, to nonsense in the background of his mind.

He has to be wrong. Mistaking some other girl for Chrissy. Because it can't be Chrissy. It can't. Steve has worked so hard to keep his family away from the Upside Down shit. She couldn't be- there's no way she somehow got caught up in it. There's too many questions and not enough answers and when did the air get too thick to fit in his lungs?

Does Gareth know?

Gareth, who Steve knows is one of Eddie's friends and here Eddie sits before him, a witness to Upside Down shit. A witness to a murder they have no clue how to solve. Gareth, who isn't exactly friends with Mike, Dustin, and Lucas, but who is in the same club as them and on friendly terms. That's too many people connected to the Upside Down in Gareth's personal circle for Steve to be okay with.

He thought this was done. That they wouldn't ever have to deal with this shit again.

Eddie is still talking as the pounding in Steve's ears fades and he listens as Eddie swears, he just wanted to help, that she seemed so freaked out by something, and Steve's insides twist and churn. Why hadn't Chrissy come to him? Just last week he was at her house, hanging out and catching up. She never mentioned an issue. A problem. Something that would cause her to seek out heavier drugs than weed.

They used to tell each other everything. What changed?

His stomach drops as the answer comes to him.

He did.

He'd changed. He started keeping secrets first. Pushed Chrissy and Gareth away after that first incident and hadn't really started to let them back in until after Starcourt. He'd just wanted to keep them safe. Keep them as far away from this horror as possible. He'd ended the weekend sleepovers because of his nightmares, stopped inviting them over to hang out by the pool because he can't look at it without thinking about Barb, started avoiding them at school when he'd ended up beat to shit by Billy because he knew they'd dig for more answers than he could give.

No wonder Chrissy didn't tell him anything was wrong.

There's no way for Steve to know if he could have helped or not, even if Chrissy had talked to him. Eddie doesn't have answers; just a story.

Steve hates him a little bit. It's irrational. Eddie didn't do this Chrissy, (even if he had been arguing that point at Family Video) but it doesn't stop the anger inside him from boiling up. He doesn't act on it, of course he doesn't, he's not that person anymore.

Plus, acting on it would kind of negate everything Dustin just convinced Eddie of, such as he's not crazy and they do believe him, and Steve's not about to undo what Dustin's accomplished by taking Eddie by the vest and shoving him against the wall in a reverse of earlier. It wouldn't do any good, not now that they're all sure it's a new, unknown threat from the Upside Down that they'll have to figure out on their own.

No. Taking his anger out on Eddie won't solve anything.

He can be mad about this later.

It does sit heavy on him, though, that he doesn't think anyone in this boathouse knows Chrissy was his cousin. That the Upside Down has taken someone from Steve this time. He can't tell them. Robin wouldn't take it well, and Dustin might not either. They'll be sad for him, and he can't handle that right now.

He can mourn later.

Remember the fun lil fic of Gareth not wanting his cousins, Chrissy Cunningham and Steve Harrington, to ruin his street cred in high school? Well, the fun is done. Have some angst. More parts will follow but it's not really a fic? Just... disjointed scenes, rewritten from canon to fit the cousin AU.

#steve harrington #chrissy cunningham #gareth #gareth cunningham (in this au)#steve‚ gareth‚ and chrissy are cousins au #canon divergent au #kinda #my fic

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amorchai · 1 year ago

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hi bubba, i'm here requesting the lil stevie blurb you wrote for me a while ago; the one with the bonfire and him being all sweet ᰔ

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄.

pairing(s): steve harrington x reader

words: 918

warnings/tags: all the gang being themselves, cursing.

a/n: this is a repost from my old account, the original post gained 700 notes.

the radiating warmth of not only the bonfire in front but the length of steve’s chest pressed against your back is enough to send you into a hazy slumber. if it weren’t for his constant moving as he watched everyone.

your head tucked under your boyfriend’s chin, steve’s arms gently encased your frame and had been for the past hour. the small get together at eddie’s ended with only a few of you left. nancy had drove most of the kids home, max staying as she only lived a trailer across and lucas was stuck to her side; steve opting to drive him back later.

eddie was using his hands atop his knees to make some careless noise amongst conversation with robin whilst steve watched fondly as lucas and max bicker, including him every so often with a ‘steve, tell her,’ or ‘stay outta this, steve, don’t listen to this doofus.’

steve couldn’t get involved, too wrapped up in the ambience of your sleepy nature against him. your breath fanned his neck and your hands clutched his jacket tightly, humming every so often when you stirred from threatened sleep.

“fuck you, honest to god, y/n! back me up here!” hands which previously coursed up and down your back with a sickeningly sweet graze freeze when steve glared at eddie munson from his spot. the kids from beside him follow his gaze when steve tries his best to whisper shout, “shut up, holy crap what ever happened to indoor voices with you lot, huh?”

“i know you weren’t the best in school, steve, but it’s basic common sense to know we’re outside right now.”

his glare moves to robin, ready to make another remark when your nose nudges against his jaw with another hum escaping you, stirring to lay your front against his while hands flatten against his chest which is currently alight with love. causing his throat to close and to shut up entirely.

“i’m not asleep, stevie. still here.” your hands move when steve’s chest vibrates with a chuckle, your words saying one thing but your expression saying a hell of the lot more.

your eyes are half-lidded, filled with a sleepiness, your cheeks look oh-so-soft and steve resists the urge to run the back of his finger over so gently like he’d break you. plus the light from the fire doesn’t help how he feels, not when the warm glow makes you look so much sweeter.

“y/n! queen or the beatles?” eddie’s voice interjects and steve leans down to press a long kiss to your head, lips murmuring against yours in the process, “sorry, baby.” you giggle lazily, hugging yourself closer to your boyfriend, knees bending so you essentially look like a koala clung to a tree.

“queen.”

a rapid beat fills your eardrums as eddie slaps his knees to the chorus of ‘we will rock you’ before standing up and leaning towards robin’s face, “told you! nobody beats freddie mercury, man. nobody!”. eddie looks over to you, face hidden in steve’s frame but eddie still speaks, not caring if it’s not really heard, “this is why you’re my favourite, y/n.”

“y/n’s clearly delirious, isn’t thinking straight,” robin starts.

“yeah, she’s like half asleep,” max continues.

you hardly listen to them, the fall air crisp against your back but steve’s quick to keep you warm. the scent of his woody cologne filling your nostrils and working like a charm to make you feel more woozy and tired, entirely safe in his arms.

“y/n deserves extra marshmallows,” eddie announces in retaliation while leaning down to grip the large bag they shared by the fire earlier to throw it in your direction. steve raises his arm to catch the plastic before discarding it to his side while responding, “y/n deserves some well-needed rest.”

you murmur incoherently against steve’s chest and he runs his hand over your head while whispering, “it’s okay, baby. i’ll get you home to bed.” little did steve know you were far more content at the back of eddie’s garden, lame bonfire while pressed against your boyfriend.

“just stay here?” eddie says as if it’s the simplest thing and steve feels you push against his hand, eyes open once again trying to lift yourself up as you start to disagree, “no, no, no. stevie, we can’t.”

everyone watches you ramble tiredly, steve kissing your forehead while his arms wrapped around your lower back comfortingly, “okay, baby—” but you continue as he speaks back, “we can’t stay, gotta drive lucas to basketball practice first thing tomorrow. gotta go home.”

“you’re right,” steve starts, everyone else confused while steve only smiles at you in complete adoration as you both attempt to move from your comfortable position. steve turns to max and lucas, spinning his finger as a signal to ‘wrap things up,’ “c’mon, lucas. let’s get you home, bud.”

everyone makes a move, lucas nervously leaning in to kiss max’s cheek while steve helps swing his jacket over your shoulder before tucking your tired state under his arm. “robin, need a lift?” asks steve, allowing you a few extra peaceful moments to feel the warm fire against your body.

“think i’m staying here.”

“let’s go, bub,” steve squeezes you while kissing your cheek, his affection only making you feel more tired and light-headed, in the best way while you're guided from the warm fire and instead promised to be cuddled to sleep in the comfort of your bed, your boyfriend right by your side like always.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

#જ⁀➴ 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 #𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⁑ steve harrington ᡣ𐭩 #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things s4 #stranger things 4

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monsterrae1 · 9 months ago

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Forehead kisses for the soft prompt pls 🥺👉👈

my dearly beloved Ems, I apologize for how long it took me to get to this ask, in my defense, life has been a lil cray cray, but here's a lil buddietommy drabble for u. Have a lovely tuesday <33

Early mornings came to be one of Buck's favorite times. More often than not it meant that both of his boyfriends were home, safe and sound, with him. Sometimes it meant that Tommy was just getting out of shift while him and Eddie still had a couple of hours to go before they needed to leave for theirs. Sometimes it meant that Tommy would be waiting for them with warm cups of coffee - enough to tie them over until it was time to take the kids the school and they could crash for the rest of the morning. Sometimes it was early mornings like today, where there was a wailing cry coming from the newly build crip in the corner of their room, and Buck would dig his elbow into the man cuddling behind him to get him to get up mumbling a sleepy "It's your turn Tommy," Until the other man finally got up, leaving a kiss on Buck's forehead as he left the bed. Buck couldn't help himself, he lifted himself from Eddie's chest to watch their boyfriend pick up their daughter and sooth her enough to be able to feed her her bottle. He loved how gentle Tommy was with her.

"Go back to sleep, Buck," Eddie mumbled, bringing him back down to his chest and pressing a kiss to Buck's forehead as well, "You'll have time to oogle him later, we need sleep now." Buck chuckled, and lifted his head up to give Eddie one kiss before closing his eyes and sighing happily into his chest. Yeah. Early mornings were the best.

taggydy tags

@lonelychicago @bi-buckrights @prettyboybuckley @saybiwithme @catdadacd @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @bidisasterevankinard @evanbi-ckley @underwaterninja13 @rogerzsteven @loveyouanyway @watchyourbuck @father-salmon @giddyupbuck @devirnis @rosieposiepuddingnpie @actualalligator @dandelioncasey @shipperqueen6 @ohmymarylou @parrishjeanna @sickeningly-sweet-honey @queerdiaz @tommykinrd @hippolotamus @aringofsalt @sleepywinchesters

#rae answers on main #buddietommy #buddietommy drabble #i am feeling soft rn #ems 🧗‍♀️💍

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uglypastels · 2 years ago

Text

Not Wholly Evil |IX| pirate!Eddie au [NSFW]

a/n we are getting so close to the endddd oh my god i am so excited and sad at the same time because i don't want this story to end as much as some of you, but I also cannot wait to share my next lil projects with you 🥰 thank you for all the support on the last chapter!

this chapter will include explicit scenes. Minors DO NOT Interact. 18+. if you have read the previous chapters but do/should not wish to consume this content, please read:

Chapter 9 (safe for work version)

Series Masterlist

word count: 13k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences in water. men are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. [in-dream] non-consensual behaviour. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. small wounds inflicted by fire. blackmail. binds and knifes. SMUT 18+ ONLY, MDNI - p in v sex. oral (f receiving). no condom (this isn't the 18th century. wrap it before you tap it). choking. thigh riding. jealous!eddie.

Chapter 9: Paragon

“Perhaps the wolf wasn't quite so dangerous as he pretended. Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out for sure——give him a little rope and see if he hung himself… And pray that he didn't tie her up with it instead.”

― Sabrina Jeffries, Dance of Seduction

He looked like he saw a ghost. And maybe he had. You didn’t feel like yourself, so who was to say if you were still alive? You had comprehended how you carried yourself back to the Hellfire. Standing in his room felt like you were looking down at yourself. Aware of everything around you but understanding none of it.

‘I thought you had left.’ He stepped into the room, leaving the door wide open. As he walked, you noticed he was clearing the way for you, allowing you to leave if you wanted to. His eyes were intently focused on yours and threaded lightly. Like any wrong move would cause you to disappear.

‘I wanted to,’ you admitted. You still wanted to. Your thoughts had screamed through the night for an escape. Yet, something tied you down to this ship and made you return.

‘Then why didn’t you?’ He came closer, and so did you. That string pulled at your ribs again, pulling you two closer. You had tried long enough to fight it to no avail. Whatever you thought you wanted did not compare to your subconscious need to be next to him.

‘I don’t know.’ Deep down, you knew the reason, but the time was not there yet to admit it. In your mind, you still despised everything about him, this ship, the crew, and, therefore, yourself for needing his touch as much as you did at this moment. It was weak to give in to him like you did.

The candle’s light fell upon him at angles that brought something new out in him or maybe revealed what had always been there. The signs of the wear and tear of a life at sea. He wasn’t hiding it any more, letting all that pain be visible, and he looked beautiful. You held back from reaching out and tracing the thin scar against his brow or the flawed line of his nose that must have been broken once. The longer you looked at him, the more you realised that you could look at him in this way forever.

And that scared you.

Munson walked past you to his desk, occupying himself with whatever he could reach. It would have been good for you to have something to focus on instead of him, but you stood in the middle of the room with nothing but him to clutch onto. Neither of you spoke, stuck in an awkward limbo, tiptoeing around one another to see who would be the first to step over that line. The line that had kept you, your heart, safe until now. You could impossibly predict what was to happen if it was crossed.

The ship creaked as the tide softly bounced off it. For the rest, it was uncharacteristically quiet on board.

‘Is the rest coming as well? Will we be departing soon?’ It was ridiculous to change the topic in this manner, but you simply did not know what else to say, and this barrier between you and him was dreadful. You could sense it in the middle, waiting for that catalyst to burst. And you wanted it to. Just how?

‘No, I doubt they realised I’ve gone.’ He finally turned back to face you, leaning against the desk, arms crossed, eyes on the ground. If he could just look at you—would that make things easier or that much harder?

‘Why did you? Leave the tavern, I mean.’ With your heart pounding in your throat, tightening your breath, you stepped toward him.

‘I noticed you were gone. Then I heard you had gone to the harbour with some man and I thought…. I grew worried.’

‘Why?’ You could not imagine him caring for you to go out, away from his crew and his festivities, to look for you.

‘I know what you’re thinking, and at first, yes, I was thinking about the money,’ he admitted, which took you aback. You took a step closer. ‘But then I—when I realised, or thought, that I had actually lost you, I thought about how I would never see you again, and I realised—’ his words faded as you took your final step towards, letting your chest press against his. He finally let his eyes meet yours.

‘Realised what?’ Considering your proximity and seclusion, you hadn’t meant to whisper, but it felt right.

‘That I was scared’ His breath was shaky as his eyes took all of you in. ‘Of loosing you.’

‘I was scared too.’ And maybe that is what kept you from leaving. The idea that if you would go, there was a possibility that you would never see him again, and it was enough to hollow out your entire being with dread. It felt wrong. But that gnawing in your chest stayed there the whole night, even when you had returned to the Hellfire, and it only left once you felt his fingers intertwine with yours. A flutter of a touch at the fingertips.

‘And? Are you still scared?’ He matched your hushed tone with his response. The question was simple on its surface, but only the facade for an obliterating iceberg was the truth.

‘No.’ Standing in front of him, feeling his breath on you, the warmth that radiated off him, his gentle touch on your skin, seeing the smile hiding in his features, you saw nothing to be scared of anymore. There was nothing to fear anymore. The voice in you that had screamed for help all those days was silenced for a final time when you leaned in to kiss him.

His lips were chapped, cheeks rough with scars and the light shadowy scruff of a beard. His touch was featherlight, as if he was scared to pursue it as if you were to break underneath him. It starkly contrasted the force he had pulled you in with hours before. The intensity had been dizzying, and yet this was what genuinely shut your mind down entirely. But you could tell that he was not there yet wholly. Something kept him guarded.

You pulled away, but your lips still shared the same breath. When you opened your eyes, you were met with his and how they were shaking with uncertainty as he took all of you in.

‘Is there something you’re still afraid of?’ you asked.

‘Many things,’ his hand found its place on your waist, ‘but mostly of myself,’ and gently pushed you away. ‘And what I will do to you. I have made so many mistakes, mistakes that hurt you, already in that I will have to live it for my eternity, but I do not know what I will do if I make one again.’

There was silence as you took in his words. You understood them, possibly more than anyone could, for they were yours. As your lips met, you thought if what you were doing would lead to your doom, if it would all end in a disaster, but could something that felt so right be so devastating?

He had let his eyes fall to the ground. You reclaimed the one step he had made you take, closing the gap between you once more and letting your hand guide him to look up at you.

‘Do you think that kiss was a mistake?’ Your heart beat faster than it ever had as you waited for an answer, but his lips remained shut, so you continued. ‘If so, do not play with my heartstrings, but tell me, and I will leave. I will return to my cell, and you can lock me up and never see me again until you bring me back home.�� It would only be a couple of days, and it would hurt to mend this extremely fragile piece of you that you had just opened, but like all wounds do, it would heal eventually.

‘Answer me, captain.’ You kept your voice as steady as possible, regaining the confidence you had built up since you got onto the ship. ‘Was that a mistake?’

‘No.’ And with that one final word, you both leaned in for a kiss. Your hand was still on his cheek, his holding you tightly, but you still felt that urge to pull yourself closer to him. As you felt the press of his chest fully against yours, he actually pulled his lips away from yours. He hesitated but finally spoke against the corner of your mouth. ‘But… call me Eddie. Please.’

You couldn’t help but smile into your next kiss. Just like that, all that weight of the world fell off both your shoulders, down into the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again. You didn’t hold back with this newfound freedom when you pushed him up against the desk. The furniture shuffled with a creak over the floor, and you could hear some things topple over at the impact. Still, neither of you cared, too occupied with one another. He could just about manage to extend his hand and begin to push all the loose items off the desk to make space for himself. The papers flew around you, and all the measurement equipment clattered onto the crowd.

As the kiss intensified, Eddie shrugged and smoothly sat up on the desk, pulling you in with him. As he slowly let himself fall back, you followed, attached by the lips, hands, and hearts, until you practically lay on top, arms keeping you up from falling entirely onto him. Well, one hand, as the other found him and laced your fingers together once more. He had tried to make more space around you, pushing objects aside, when he cursed loudly.

You startled away and saw the clench in his jaw as he took a deep breath. He must have read your panic-stricken face as he showed you his hand. ‘It’s alright,’ his voice was calm, humour peaking through it. ‘I might have just put my hand right into the flame.’ And indeed, the side of his hand was glowing red.

Hearing this did not put your mind at rest as you tried to grab his hand and inspect the damage more deeply, but he pulled it away from you, instead taking your fingers in his and kissing your knuckles.

‘Don’t worry, my darling,’ he smiled while kissing your hand, ‘Can barely feel it.’

He had just made direct contact with fire; you doubted it would be alright, but then again, you had seen all the scars on his body. This would just be another small blister among the list of many. But you blinked the thought away. Tried your best to not think about the pain he had endured. You doubted he wanted you to feel pity for him and what had once happened to him.

The look in his eyes was adamant. He needed you to let it go, so all you could do was sigh.

‘You’ve gone mad.’

Eddie chuckled at your comment as he let his lips travel over your wrist, over the length of your arm. ‘As mad as any other sane man.’ His kisses moved over the material of your shirt. The lack of contact that was so clearly there shot sparks of anticipation through you, but he took his time taking you all in until his lips reached your collar. He had practically strained his neck to reach you from his position. Some of you wanted to back away to see how far he would follow you, but your weaker portion gave into his touch and melted over it.

He had just kissed your neck, sparking a fire through you on the spot, when a noise boomed over the silent ship, bursting you out of the solitary moment of bliss. In an instant, Eddie held you by the hips as he gently pushed you off him and got himself back on the ground. There was an alarm in his features, and so, when he looked at you and told you to “Stay here”, for once, you listened.

He closed the door behind him as he left to see what the noise was, and when minutes later, he had not returned, but there had also not been any more ruckus or signs of danger; you calmed down. Unsure of what to do now, you lay down on the bed. In the past few days, the bed had gotten more comfortable as you got used to it, but it still felt strange. You lay down on your side, facing the wall. The patterns in the wooden planks almost seemed to move in the shadowy light and, unfortunately for you, brought you into a trance of clarity and thoughts.

What were you doing? How could you have let all this happen? Kissing the man that had caused the death of so many people that you had deemed friends. How could you betray their souls by… by falling for him? You had lost control of all your feelings and emotions.

It was a trick of the sea. You had simply been captured on this ship for so long that you did not know what was wrong or right. How else could you explain the yearning feeling that still circulated through you? Why else did you wish he was still here with you, touching you?

With all these thoughts occupying your mind, you must have missed Eddie walking back into the room, mumbling something about how it had been a few of his crew that stumbled back up to the ship. Too busy with your own mind, you did not hear him calling your name softly, assuming you had fallen asleep and telling you good night. You did not hear how deflated the last words came from his mouth. You only caught the sound of the door closing behind him.

And soon you managed to turn all these thoughts off and fall asleep. Except then, they came back even stronger and in the form of dreams. You found yourself back on the Red Tail. The hawk flapped its wings on the flag in the wind and every man’s uniform. The sun shone brightly in its last few minutes before hiding behind the horizon. It was a strange illusion as you stared down at the ship and the two figures that stood out looking at the sparkling sea. You watched yourself talking to Admiral Carver.

‘I would have imagined you to have grown tired of the water by now,’ he laughed.

‘I won’t say I will be happy to return home, but I can’t ever see myself becoming tired of this view. It is beautiful.’ You leaned forward onto the balustrade and breathed in the salty air. ‘Besides, you have done this for much longer than I have, and you’re here too, so it can’t be that bad.’ It seemed it was only your first expedition while he had crossed the world several times. If anyone was to grow tired of it, you thought it would be him.

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he had his arms behind his back, ‘but everything is more bearable when there is something back home to look forward to.’

‘I suppose so.’ You would not exactly know what he meant. Of course, you could not wait to see your father again, and your friends, but nothing at home gave you the sense that it genuinely anchored you there or drew your heart in for your return. ‘I am sure you miss your family very much.’

‘Yes, of course,’ He took a step closer to you, ‘but I will miss these moments.’

‘Oh,’ you were startled by his proximity, unsure how to respond. Politely, you smiled and tried to keep the conversation going, ‘I��ve enjoyed them too, uhmm-’, but you were suddenly thrown off-guard when you felt his hands on you. Before he had the chance to do anything, you were quick to push him off. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Taking our last chance before it’s too late.’ He leaned in again, and you stepped back.

‘What about your–’

‘She does not need to know.’ The sea was a free playing field for most men, so what happened out there was not up to the women at home to know. You had seen adultery but never thought the admiral would participate in such activities. He had been drinking; maybe he wasn’t thinking straight. Before he would make any more mistakes, you attempted to walk away, but he caught you by the arm, putting all his strength into the hold.

‘Admiral, you’re hurting me.’ You tried to pull your arm back, and this is where things began to change. Where the dream made itself apparent. Carver’s handsome features turned into vicious angles as he spoke.

‘So you’ll kiss Munson, but not me?’

‘What- what are you–’ you tried to get away, but it was as if he grew in size. And there were flashes. These flashes of light. Like lightning, there was no thunder, rain, or light. It blinded you, and you tried to regain your sight by blinking, but each time you did so, he seemed to change right in front of you.

There was him like you knew him, but the next second he turned into this nightmarish version of himself, but there were moments when he wasn’t himself at all. You’d blink, and suddenly you saw Captain Munson. Still in that uniform, however, you would try to make sense of it all. Still, before you could, he would disappear again, and you would be looking into Carver’s blank eyes, and you’d see the blood dripping from his mouth as he spat out his words.

‘Don’t trust him.’

‘What?’ You had tears in your eyes, and your wrist burned from his touch. There was another flash of light. Eddie stood before you again, just as you knew him.

‘Do not trust him.’

Don’t trust who? Who were you meant to trust, then? The questions rang through you as you woke up, head throbbing with pain, limbs sore and dehydrated. If you did not know any better, you would have blamed the rum you consumed the night before on everything, making you imagine all that had happened. Still, the sensation that Eddie had left on your whole body felt too real to be just a drunken dream or nightmare.

He was not in the cabin when you awoke, but you could hear him outside, yelling commands out. When you looked outside the window, you could tell by how the waves moved that you had departed the Saint Claire harbour and were on your way again.

You sat up in bed but remained still afterwards, uncertain what to do next. Some part of you wanted to go outside and see Eddie, talk to him about whatever it was that had happened that night. Still, a bigger side of you doubted you could ever look him in the eye again. Seeing your reflection from the glass doors of a cabinet in the room, of yourself in his bed, made you feel bad enough. So, staying in the room for the rest of the day was not an option either. You were already at the door, hand on the handle, when it opened, nearly crashing into you.

‘Sorry,’ his apology was muffled.

‘I was just on my way out,’ you muttered in the same awkward tone and walked past him.

‘Wait,’ Eddie reached for you, and the memory of your dream of Carver made you retract away from him, regretting it as soon as you did. Eddie wasn’t him, but you treated him the same because of something your exhausted mind had decided to conjure up. Eddie kept his distance. ‘Can we talk?’

‘Later,’ you pleaded. This was not the right time. You could tell that it would not end well if you stayed there.

But when would it be right? When would the stars align correctly for you to speak? It certainly wasn’t the next two days, as you kept walking in circles around eachother. You avoided him like the plague, and it was unlikely that he had not noticed yet.

You kept yourself occupied with anyone else but him, really. Talking to Robin, Steve, and anyone else who seemed to require company as much as you. Almost as much, at least. It shocked you as well as them how smoothly the conversations went. While only a little was exchanged, neither side being too keen on sharing too much of their past, somehow, you still managed to fill hours with polite pleasantries. Some even showed you how to work around the ship, probably more than happy to give you some of their workload now. You didn’t mind. It was alright if it stopped you from overthinking everything that had happened in the past weeks. But it was still hard to do when you felt Eddie’s eyes on you. He’d watch you work the sails or anything else from afar, but when you’d try and catch him, he’d be suddenly occupied with something and walk away.

The biggest surprise, however, came one evening when everyone had gathered for their final meal of the day. You had gotten your portion and were ready to return to the cabin when Robin pointed to the seat between her and Steve. You wanted to politely decline, feeling like you did not strictly belong in this dynamic—the crew’s meals felt more sacred, a moment for them to spend together, but they all saw your argument coming and shut it down.

‘Never thought I’d say this,’ Wheeler, one of the lankier crewmates, said at some point, ‘but I might actually miss you.’ There was a cloud of agreeable laughter to which you belonged. It was funny, but what scared you was that you would miss them too when that eventual day of your return home would come.

And it was coming.

Something about the air around you began to feel more familiar each day. And when you talked to Robin, you could sense that she knew how much time there was left. But each time you asked, she avoided answering straightforwardly.

‘Not sure. But you know how seatravels are, you can never be sure… I mean, we should have been there days ago and yet,’ she laughed nervously, tying knots in a piece of old rope that someone had cut off once.

‘I suppose you’re right.’ You had your own piece of rope and were toying with the frayed ends, pulling them apart mindlessly. You could hear Eddie talking to someone somewhere around, and you did your best not to look up. It had been days, but your tension still felt raw and strange. You wanted to simultaneously run into his arms and run away from him as far as possible, and you could not figure out which urge was the right one to follow.

‘It probably won’t take much longer, don’t worry.’ Robin said, her shoulder slumping as she untied another knot to remake it.

‘I’m not worried,’ you admitted.

‘No, and you don’t need to be,’ Robin panicked, not wanting to give you the wrong impression of what she had intended to say, ‘but I’m sure you’ll be glad to be home.’ To this, you had no response because, very much like in your last days on your old ship, you had been eagerly awaiting your return home but did not feel like you were actually happy to go back. On top of that, you actually had the sense that you would miss this crew. By leaving, you would be leaving something behind, and you had never felt that before.

But it still did not feel right. Like a kink in your neck that you were trying to stretch out until it disappeared.

‘Can I ask you something?’ you said cautiously.

Robin glanced up from her rope. ‘You always scare me when you say that.’

‘I hadn’t noticed I did it often.’

‘You’re quite inquisitive. It’s commendable, but dangerous.’

‘Should I be scared?’ You blinked.

‘Not here, but in other parts of the world they’re not too keen on it, so just beware.’ She had tied a knot she couldn’t loosen anymore. ‘But what was your question?’

You took a deep breath. ‘Why did you target the Red Tail? And I know it was targeted, since the captain was aware what ship you were attacking.’ There was that other puzzle piece that was missing in your brain. How would he know if you were supposed to be on that ship or not?

Robin froze and dropped her rope. You watched it fall to the ground and her reaching to pick it up clumsily. Once she did, she fumbled around even more with it. ‘I’m probably not the best person to ask this; I joined the crew late, I don’t know everything that’s going on around—’ she was getting distracted, losing the point of your question, or so you thought, ‘I had only heard things, but you have to know that people around here, we trust each other and that trust is earned. We might cheat once in a while in a game of cards or dice, but some things you just can’t lie about.

‘So, I didn’t need much convincing from the captain when he said that those— that those were bad men.’

‘He told you that my crew were bad men?’

‘They needed to be punished.’ Robin shrugged, but not in the way that made you think she thought indifferent. More so that, there was nothing she could do about it. It was a brief apology to you, not for what they had done, but as if she was sorry for being the bearer of the news.

‘Punished for what?’ you asked, but Robin shook her head. Right, she wouldn’t be able to know, and you didn’t blame her. Was there anyone around willing to share more of the specifics of this situation? You felt like you had the right to explain what had brought you to their ship, but it would go past some lines of comfort for the men. Could you dare ask Eddie?

But to ignore him for days just to come up with these questions could not be appreciated; then again, he owed you at least this after being the sole reason for your presence on this ship in the first place. He had caused all this mess. He could at least help you clean it up.

You finished your conversation with Robin slowly, without any urgency to actually put it to an end. It must have been confusing to Robin, who saw how you tried to tie your sentences up to walk away, just to disentangle them just as she had been doing with her rope and keep pulling it back. Ultimately, she stopped it all and excused herself from the argument she needed back on her lookout post. She walked away, giving you this look that made it clear to you that she knew what you were planning to do and how apprehensive you were to do it. And whatever for? You had fought, punched, slapped and kissed Eddie in the past days without hesitation; why could you not just talk to him now?

Because that would actually mean something to you. It would unblur all the lines that connected you into a clear pattern, and you would have to live with those results, and you just were not ready for that yet.

You took deep breaths as you walked up to the captain’s quarters. The door creaked as it slid open but was met with a resistant force as you collided with Eddie. He grunted lightly at the impact, and you began to apologise.

‘Sorry,’ you mumbled, not expecting him to be so close suddenly. You had hoped to catch him at his desk, where the furniture could keep some kind of barrier between you. Still, now he stood mere inches away, towering over you and the heat of his body radiating onto yours.

‘I was just on my way out.’ He scratched his beard casually, but his eyes said enough about how similarly he felt about your sudden appearance.

‘I hoped we could talk,’ you blurted out, and Eddie blinked.

‘Talk? Now?’ To this, you only nodded shyly. It had been too long. You had made him wait for days, which was simply too long. Why would he want to listen to what you had to say now? Eddie was ready to brush past you, but you were quicker, catching his arm and pulling eachother closer until your lips met in a chaste kiss. The suddenness stunned him, but for a blink of an eye before his muscles melted into position around you. It only confirmed your worst thoughts, how perfectly the two of you fit together, how your bodies simply locked into place with one another. The heat that grew between you could not only be felt by you. It was too strong for that. As much as you did not want to admit it, there was something there that you did not want to lose.

‘I’m sorry, ‘you said breathlessly, ‘for everything I’ve done in the past few days.’

‘You have done nothing to apologise for.’ He sighed.

‘Exactly,’ you jumped back at how loud you sounded. Still, his pull on your waist kept you close, ‘I have done nothing, while I should have stayed here with you, and we should have talked of, of whatever it is that stands between us, but—but I was scared. I thought I hadn’t been, but I was, and that, in turn, scared me even more, so I thought I needed time to think—’

‘And did you?’ He looked down at you inquisitively like he was observing a strange, yet highly fascinating, phenomenon in front of him. Something that he should not be enjoying as much as he was. The unwanted smirk appeared on his lips no matter how hard he tried to hide it. It made you aware of just how much you had tried to say in what short of an amount of time.

‘Yes,’ you said with a slow breath to help you calm down. At this, Eddie simply reacted with a gesture telling you to go on, to tell him what kind of discovery you had made. Would it be anything that could help your conundrum? Clear things up in your heads and maybe even hearts? You could not be sure, but it was a start if you just let those parts of you speak freely.

You took one more deep breath. ‘That night you asked me if I was scared, and I said “no”, but…’ you pushed past the shake of your voice. ‘But I realise now that that wasn’t the truth.’ As you announced this, the hand on your waist tightened its grip before leaving your body entirely. The immediate lack of contact made you regret your choice of words. Maybe you should have prepared what to say, but letting it come out unrehearsed and unplanned felt like the right thing to do. It would not cut out any of the emotions you felt. What you wanted him to know that you thought, so you stammered out your following words.

‘There is so much that I am scared of. It scares me how and how much I have changed in the past few days, and I am scared that I do not mind it. It scares me how much I enjoy being here and how much I want to be… with you.’ Your last words faded as you had not expected to hear yourself say them out loud. Eddie, who you had watched as he walked around the room in slow paces as he listened, must not have expected them, too, for he stopped to stare at you, dumbfounded.

‘Why?’ was the only thing he said in response.

‘Because…’ you let out an exasperated sigh, walking up to him. You had somehow managed to find yourselves at his throne, ‘because this is not who I am supposed to be. I shouldn’t be. You are you; I am me, and nothing here is right.’ Yet the puzzle had never fit tighter together than it did now. But at the same time… ‘As much as I want to spend my days with you, I cannot stop thinking about all the chaos you have caused in my life. Whether on purpose or not…There is blood on your hands, Eddie.’ there were tears in your eyes. Eddie looked down at his hands as if you had meant it literally. They were pale and had a shake to them, but he quickly put them down to his sides.

‘And yet you’re still here.’ He said it with a distance, more to himself than anyone else, narrating the events as if putting it all into words could make it make more sense somehow, and maybe to him, it did. However, you were still utterly clueless and running in the dark.

‘I am.’ You nodded your head lightly. ‘And I wish I could explain why. To you and to myself, but I simply do not know.’

‘Let me pose you these two questions then,’ he spoke sternly, and you got the unexpected feeling that this would be a test you had to ace. ‘Are you still scared of me? Do you regret anything that happened between us?

‘Answer yes to either of my questions,’ he held two fingers up, ‘and I will make all of this very easy for you and disappear. You will never have to see me again but be honest.’ Looking into his eyes the way you were, it was difficult to lie, or it would have been if you had any intention of doing so. The word came easier to you than anything else had in your life, but you still needed to know some things before sealing your fate.

‘Before I answer, I need to know your business with the admiral.’

Eddie scoffed, looking out the window, ‘I could not care less about the admiral.’ Something in him tensed up despite his attempt to make his reply come out casually. Everything besides his eyes, which flickered with so many emotions simultaneously, you could not distinguish between them soon enough.

‘But the attack on my ship was deliberate, was it not?’ You did not need this to become another one of your rows and spoke as carefully as you could manage. If one of you began to raise your voice or fill your words with anger, it would take over the other, exploding fatally in the middle, and that is not what you wanted.

‘What do you remember from that day?’ He looked at you, head cocked to the side as he studied your face. He saw you blink slowly, trying to understand what he was implying.

‘I remember everything.’ How could you not? It was one of the most terrifying days of your life. ‘I remember being on the deck and seeing your dark sails and how I hid under that desk as the canons went off–’

‘Whose canons?’ He stared at you blankly, and you mirrored him perfectly.

‘What?’

‘What canons did you hear go off? Who shot first?’ He did not say anything else, just stood still as you tried to reply with confidence that you lost as soon as you gave your answer some thought.

Everything had happened so quickly, and it was so loud. All you had tried was to block it out. But you heard the bangs. They came from all sides, but the first one... the first one was the closest.

Eddie must have seen the recognition on your face. ‘I know that those people were your friends. And I am sorry that that is how things-’

‘But you said I was not meant to be on board. You knew what ship it was.’ You cut him off at the memory. ‘You would have attacked either way, wouldn’t you?’

‘It is not that simple.’ He shook his head.

‘Isn’t it?’

‘No, and I wish I could explain, but I fear that whatever I tell you will only make you see the worst in me and them.’

‘You could at least try.’ You reached for his hand, and a bit of you leapt in relief when you saw he did not pull away. ‘I want to understand, Eddie. You do not know how horrible it is to live in this realm of uncertainty and oblivion.’

‘Would you rather live with the horrors of the truth?’ He asked genuinely, with the pain that exactly this truth had caused him in his eyes.

‘Is that not a choice I deserve to make by myself?’ You once again found yourself up against him. Funny how it always came back to this and how you would not have wanted it any other way.

‘You’ve said it yourself; I’ve hurt you enough times. I can not risk doing it again. I will not let myself do that.’ He brushed a strand of hair from your face, brushing his fingers over your cheek. ‘Now, will you please answer my questions?’

‘No,’ and with that, you answered both. Whatever tugged at you from the inside to feel such anxiety had nothing to do with Eddie.

On the contrary, you felt a sense of calm whenever you saw him. And you had wanted, really wanted, to regret those kisses, but you still dreamt of them at night, and it was all with a magical wonder that you wished to experience once more. Despite everything in your life that had led to this that would have told you to turn around and run away, you stayed firmly in your place in front of him with no intention of ever running away again.

Eddie leaned in, and you anticipated a kiss that never came as he spoke against the corner of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. ‘I need you to say it, darling.’

‘I’m not scared of you, Eddie.’ The tremble in your voice had nothing to do with fear but all with the way he held you. His hand had moved down your cheek onto your neck, fingers wrapped around your throat, thumb caressing your jaw. His eyes pierced through you. ‘And I do not regret anything.’

You knew Eddie had seen all the far corners of the world. You must have come across the grandest of riches. Yet standing in front of him, you could not help but think how seeing Captain Eddie Munson beam his most genuine smile was the rarest and most beautiful treasure of them all. It was infectious; you could not help but smile at it.

He let himself come close again, but just as your lips were about to touch, he spoke instead. Right against you, the hot air of his breath pricked at your skin with his light laugh. ‘Before all of this, had you ever imagined yourself here with me?’

As much as you had wished it was not true, ‘I did, actually.’ Your mind flashed to your dreams, the ones you had once thought were conjured up to plague you, but now you realised it was just your heart screaming out your deepest desires.

Like a reward, Eddie kissed your cheek for your reply. ‘Really? The princess had thought of me, a filthy pirate?’

‘I’m not a princess.’ You rolled your eyes playfully.

‘Out of all the things to dispute, you argue my words of affection?’ He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations deep within his chest.

‘There was nothing else to correct.’ You wanted to laugh but instead froze at the sensation of Eddie lightly putting pressure on your throat as he was still kissing pieces of your face. Just like that, everything in the past minutes disappeared from your mind. When he pulled away, you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes that once used to bring out fear of the worst in you.

‘Glad to know you haven’t changed too much, darling.’ With his hand around you, he gave you little choice but to look up at him. There was a moment in which both of you took everything of the other in. You tried to soak in all his features from this small distance, for some reason feeling the need to remember them all. Meanwhile, he read your face for any signs of reluctance, which he found none of. ‘You enjoyed that, didn’t you, princess?’

A question which brought a lot of enjoyment out of him.

Still taken aback by his actions, you stood there with your lips slightly parted, bewildered, so all you did was nod. And again, your response was rewarded with another kiss, finally letting you meet his lips while tightening his hold on you. The weak sound that came out of your mouth at the feeling was an instinct. You had never heard yourself make such a sound, and he must have known it somehow as his grin grew wider against you.

The kiss grew in strength by the fleeting second as you both lost control over your bodies, just letting them speak for themselves. It was messy and heated. The pent-up tension that had been sitting between you was finally finding its release. Eddie’s hands roamed over your body, almost in a hunger-like manner, devouring you with his touch alone. Maybe this hunger felt too real when Eddie’s teeth grazed over your neck, sending an unknown spark through your body at the sensation.

You held onto him tightly, one hand on his shoulder as the other rooted itself in his dark locks—which made you soon realise that the tiniest of motions of you caused a reaction in him as well, in the form of a low hiss as you pulled the hairs on the back of his neck. It had been an accident, as you tried to keep yourself up when the pleasure he brought you made you feel light as a feather.

Eddie hummed at your response as his hands continued their wandering path across your body. The pressure of his palms, combined with the slow and tantalising pace at which he moved, drove you to press your body eagerly against him, which, in turn, only spurred him on to continue down this track of your curves. His movements got rougher as he kept going.

With your urge to keep your bodies close, you quickly caught on Eddie walking backwards. You followed him mindlessly until he found his throne seat and pulled you along with him, right on top of his lap. At this proximity, you could feel all of him underneath you.

‘Tell me,’ he kissed you briefly between words, ‘have you ever been with a man before?’

‘Yes,’ you dared to reply with the truth. Anywhere else, it would have been considered a great shame, a sin of the highest degree, but with Eddie, somehow, you felt like he had wanted that to be your answer. You tried to focus on his face, that smile he shot up at you and the short answer you gave him, instead of how his hands roamed over your thighs. Even with the fabric of your trousers in between, his effect on you was immense. He must have felt how you tensed up when he reached your core.

‘Did anyone ever touch you like this?’

‘Uhm, no, not in this way.’ You struggled with the words as he let his fingers press over your most sensitive parts, everywhere all at once. You could barely keep track of it. Another moan escaped you as his hand moved over your breast. Even with the fabric keeping your modesty intact, he had still found a way for his fingers to move smoothly across your nipples. The feeling lulled you into comfort, brewing the heat inside your chest. And so, you gasped as, with one aggressive pull, Eddie ripped the material of your shirt in two, revealing you to him entirely. Your eyes were wide in shock as his darkened with want.

‘Not scared of me yet, are you, princess?’ His hand was on your ribs, waiting for permission to touch your bare skin.

‘No,’ your voice sounded like a hushed, airy whisper. Eddie smiled but still hesitated with his subsequent actions. As the shirt sleeve fell off your shoulder, he kissed you again. Except this time, his lips met your breast. The arch in your back, the tug of your hips towards him, was an almost mechanised reaction to it. And with it came the friction of his thigh against you.

‘Eddie.’ His name sounded shaky coming from you as you could barely inhale a steady breath, too occupied with him.

‘That’s right, princess.’ He groaned as his lips remained on your skin, kissing the valley of your chest. With each kiss, your want for him grew, but your movements over his thigh barely covered the needed friction. You dug your nails into his shoulders, making him groan out in pained pleasure. He cursed before taking you by the hips. ‘Stand up.’

You did as he asked, something that did not go unnoticed by either of you. Eddie chuckled as he looked up at you, chin on your stomach, lips nearly pressing against it, so close you could feel the vibrations of his voice.

‘So you can be good for me.’

A snide remark was already forming on the tip of your tongue, but Eddie was quicker. Smoothly, he pulled down your trousers and let them pool at your ankles. You stood in front of him in only your torn-up shirt. His large eyes were on you up until the moment his face made contact with your core, and at that moment, everything went black. You could just about make out that you held him close to you, pulling at his hair; as for the rest, the world was turning upside down and around at a speed that made everything seem like a sea full of stars. Your moans filled the room as his tongue licked through your slit.

You assumed that with how he held you with one hand, his fingers would leave marks for days, but the other was much lower. You could hear the sound of a belt unbuckling. He was clearly struggling to work around his clothes with only one hand, especially with most of him already preoccupied with you and your pleasure. Never before had you seen such kind of ferocity in a man. Not when he pulled himself closer to you and practically fell to his knees from the throne. You surely would have fallen back if it had not been for him and the desk that hit your legs and now acted as an extra grip. It was especially needed when Eddie pulled your leg over his shoulder, gaining even more access to you.

The desk kept sliding back with the force at which he held you in your place, grazing the floor, but it was all blocked out by your moans. They were filled with curses and the repetition of his name as your vision blurred with ecstasy and your body tightened with need. There was no possible way that the rest could not hear you through the thin walls of the cabin, but you could not care less about them. At this moment, they simply did not exist.

‘You taste absolutely divine.’ Eddie spoke while kissing your inner thigh, making your legs even weaker. You noticed his lips glistening, never looking more kissable than ever before.

He had run your mind through a mill; words were hard to come by. All you could muster out was a weak hum as you let your hand brush through his hair. At that, he nuzzled himself between your legs again, this time much gentler, and took his time kissing every inch of skin he had access to, giving you the time to catch your breath while still keeping you on that high edge.

‘I—I never…’ you still struggled to form a sentence.

‘Hmm,’ he kissed your stomach, ‘I know.’ And he slowly rose to his feet, catching your face in one more passionate kiss. You had gotten so used to how he tasted—rum, tobacco, sea air— that your flavour threw you off for a moment, but soon enough, you were sinking into him just as before. And again, you could hear the struggling twinkle of a locked belt buckle.

‘Would you be a doll,’ he said with his amusement running down your cheek, ‘and help a poor man out.’

You reached for his trousers, undoing the belt and unbuttoning them so they could drop down his thighs. You had felt it before, how aroused he had grown, but seeing it made you take a step back.

‘Nothing to be afraid of, darling.’ He grinned, placing a hand on your cheek. The other made itself comfortable between your legs, toying with your wetness.

‘I know.’ You looked into his eyes. The warmth of them had burned up into a dark and hungry desire. Putting a light pressure onto his shoulders, you pushed him back down into the chair. Eddie practically bounced in the seat, taking you all in as much as you took the moment to look at him. Your flicker of confidence in the moment when you thought you knew what you were doing fizzled, but he must have read that off of you, as the next second he was the one pulling you down.

‘Was this how you expected it to be,’ he murmured against your ear, ‘when you thought about us.’

‘No,’ you admitted. It was nothing like you had imagined. All your dreams had been of what you had thought he was; careless, dangerous, feeding off your fear. There had been none of this passion that you felt now. None of the heat, the tenderness or the feeling.

‘Anything you’d still like to change,’ he kissed the soft spot of skin behind your ear that made you shiver.

‘No,’ you gasped. You could feel him against you, just waiting for the moment to enter you. The two of you were dancing around it, letting other make that next move, the plunge off the cliff, with no return. You shuffled over his thighs. One more kiss would seal the final deal when you moved your hips up and he adjusted himself infront of you.

The moan you let out at the feeling of him inside you, of him stretching your walls and filling you whole, was impossible to miss. Ships from miles away could probably tell what was going on, but again, they were not a part of your universe in this moment. Just you. You concentrated at the pace he was making you keep up with. The roll of your hips against the grind of his. Each thrust went deeper and harder making Eddie more aggressive in the most blissful of ways. There was nothing else to think about, because why would you when this felt so good? Reality went lost on you, until you felt his fingers dig into your side, a pain rushing through you.

Both of you froze.

‘What’s wrong?’ Eddie immediately looked to where he had held you, pulling the remaining pieces of your shirt up to reveal the scar. The rough skin was a stark contrast to the rest of you. He met your eyes again. ‘Does it still hurt?’

‘It’s just sensitive.’ You wanted to push his hand away, cover the mark up again so neither of you had to be reminded of it. It had been a stupid mistake, that much you knew, and it was not as if you could change the past, so why let it pester you? But Eddie was not the kind to give up easily. He pushed the shirt material back up, keeping your hand away from him, to inspect the damage he had caused.

‘I’ve done a lot in my life that I will forever regret,’ he kissed your shoulder as his thumb traced over the scarred line, ‘but this will probably haunt me the longest.’ His words and touch, combined with how you sat in his lap, still full of him, got you lost for words. Because, of course, you had hoped that this was his sentiment, you understood and appreciated his words, but what else was there to say? The only thing you could think of replying, which felt silly to do seeing your current position, was ask for some clarification.

‘What happened? I would have thought you had more control over your sword than that.’ You aired the conversation with a bit of laughter, but it only spurred him on to thrust deeper into you.

‘I had thought so too,’ he kept moving his hips forcefully, ‘I had hoped so,’ he kissed you sloppily, ‘but I lost it all when I saw you with him.’

‘Who?’ you asked. Maybe under different circumstances, you could have thought more clearly to realise what he was speaking of, but that did not seem possible.

‘Harrington,’ the name came out of him with a bitter taste. Apparently, the feelings from that day had not disappeared as far as he had thought, but now he could let these frustrations out in a less hazardous manner. It still took a toll on you, but there was no pain to speak of. Just pure pleasure.

Still, the mention of the crew member had surprised you. ‘Why– why would you—’

‘The way he held you, smiled at you, don’t you think I had wanted to do that? From the moment I saw you—but all I did was drive you away. It was just another reminder of my failure and before I knew it I—’ he stopped himself, still unable to properly speak of what happened. You kissed the bridge of his nose.

‘For what it’s worth,’ you tugged at the words to come out cohesively, ‘I never thought of him as—’

‘It does not even matter what you think of him,’ he laughed, more so at himself, ‘You could fall for and by happy with any man on this earth and I could make my peace with it. I just don’t want to be the reason for your suffering.’

‘I think—’ a moan burst through your thought with another deep thrust, ‘I think you have managed to pay back any of your wrongdoings.’

‘Oh, darling, I haven’t even started to repay my debts.’ And so, Eddie kissed your neck, over and over, and with those kisses moved down to your brest. Your head rolled back with a soft whine at the attention he gave you, if not with his mouth, than the hand that kneaded your flesh and played with your nipples.

As he kept going, and as your hips met his and the pleasure burst through you, you could feel everything coming to a close. The tightness in your body swelled while your control over it strayed. There was no possible way you could hold on for much longer and from the looks of it, Eddie had no plans on making you wait. He bucked his hips into you harder and harder, almost impossibly for you to keep it all in. You could explode with this pleasure and that is exactly what he wanted.

‘Mmm c’mon, princess. Feel so good around me,’ he hummed, ‘could anyone make you feel this good?’

‘Just you,’ you moaned out, holding tightly on to him as you felt the tension build up in you.

‘That’s right,’ he had a smug smile across his face that you wished you could wipe off, and you would if you did not need him to keep doing whatever it was he did. Were his fingers back between your legs? Rubbing tight circles, sparking up your sensitivity. ‘Just me.’

‘Just you, Eddie,’ his named squeaked out from between your teeth when he reached the deepest part of you.

‘I’ll never get enough of you saying my name.’

‘Eddie,’ you repeated it in in a haze with his final thrusts that finally brought you over the edge. Stars fell over you in pleasure as Eddie slowed down his movements, letting you come down from the high. He held you tightly in his arms as you let your head fall on his shoulder until you fell into a comfortable silence. There was only the rush of the waves and your tired breaths that filled your ears.

Once your heart settled back to a steady pace, you knew it wasn’t safe. As good as this moment felt, it wouldn’t last. Whatever this was, there was no possibility in which it would outlive this voyage. Then, once it was over, it would hurt. That much you knew. Possibly more than anything had hurt before, and you would just have to be on the lookout for that end until then to let yourself become at peace with it. There wasn’t another choice, as this idea always stayed with you in the back of your head from that moment on. When you fell asleep in Eddie’s arms that night, you thought how many more days you got to wake to in such bliss as you did the next morning.

You could not tell if Eddie had these troubles, you could not tell, for he went through his following days much like before. The only difference was that his free minutes were now occupied with you.

It had not been your intention to make it so obvious to the crew, but there was also so little you could hide from them. Nothing could escape the dozens of interested eyes, so why hide your affection towards their captain? He certainly was not making any attempts. Any chance he got, he found himself at your side, holding you, kissing you, then behind closed doors, do all the other unspeakable things to you that made the others turn green of envy.

Your mornings and afternoons were much the same as they had been before the night of the storm and the Hellfire’s arrival at Saint Claire, as you still spent it in each other's company. The difference was now that instead of being separated by the large oak desk, Eddie would often pull you into his lap to sit in the throne, if not making himself comfortable with you on the bed. The nights began with kisses and limbs tangled with eachother and merged into a joined slumber. Unfortunately, as happy as your days felt, it would not stop the nightmares from coming, but each time you would awake in a cold sweat or with shaking hands, he would be right there to coax you back to peace. What surprised you, however, was that you would do the same to him.

Somehow, the thought of the notorious captain waking up screaming in the middle of the night, chest heaving, eyes wide with fear, had never occurred to you. You had never imagined him reaching for your thigh to ground himself as his reality spiralled in the dark.

‘Shh,’ you held him tightly, ‘it’s okay.’

Neither of you asked what the dreams were about, knowing you could do nothing about them. You could just help the other through it. And then, each time, the dreams that followed were much sweeter.

Then you’d wake up in each other’s arms long before the rest of the world seemed to. Those few blissful moments where nothing could disturb you and the time you could spend in that bed was endless.

Except it very much was not. And you realised it exactly through what you thought would be your escape.

It was a sunny morning. The golden sunrays illuminated the cabin as you reached for Eddie, just to find the side of the bed to be empty. Only his impression in the covers, the faint temperature his body had radiated onto them, was still there. It could not have been long since he had gotten up, and indeed, you caught him standing at the window—leaning against it, more like. His trousers were loose on his hips, and his shirt was still on the ground around you.

Grabbing that shirt and throwing it over your naked body, you walked over to him, and he looked in your direction as soon as he heard your footsteps. The smile in his eyes was genuine but weak. As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you into an embrace, twirling you around so your back would hit his chest and you could look out at the sea. With how the sunrays sparkled across the waves, it all felt like a dream, too good to be true, but you did not know yet that the dream was at the end of its tether.

‘I really am sorry,’ he mumbled, having his face already nuzzled in the crook of your neck, kissing the spot where it met your shoulder.

‘What for?’ Apologies had become a frequent appearance in his vocabulary, showing up in almost every conversation, if not sentence.

‘You know.’ Yes, you did know. For everything. He held a moment of silence, enjoying your presence in his arms for a little longer, before speaking again. ‘I just keep thinking about how everything between us happened, and if it had not been for me, we could have had more.’

‘I’m just as guilty.’ You had been stubborn, aggressive, and just as blind to your feelings.

‘Highly doubtful statement.’ He laughed, and his breath tickled the hairs on your neck.

‘I don’t think so.’ You shrugged in his hold.

‘Still just as stubborn, aren’t you, princess.’ He squeezed you tighter.

‘Is that not one of my most desirable attributes?’ You spun yourself around in his hold and quickly wrapped your arms around him. Doing so, hearing his tone and joy in his voice, you had expected to see him smiling, but he looked just as sombre as when you had walked up to him. ‘What’s wrong?’ Your hand mindlessly began to trace over the scars on his chest, knowing it brought comfort to both you and him by now.

Eddie shook his head, holding back a laugh. ‘You know…’ he kissed your forehead, ‘when I woke up, I saw you lying there, with the sun shining on your face, and you looked so peaceful, I had honesty considered just locking you away and keeping you forever, but I am a man of my word, am I not?’

‘I…don’t understand.’ You tried to see the meaning behind his words in his eyes, but there was nothing, and it only got harder to figure out when he held his forehead against yours, keeping you close. You still tried to make sense of what he said when you saw it. There, in the far back corner of your eye. So far, it could have been a play of light, and yet it was more real than anything. So undeniably real it crushed everything around you without question.

From the angle the ship stood at, that was as much as you could envision through the windows, and thus you ran out of the room. As much as you did not want to leave Eddie behind, knowing it could be one of the last moments the two of you had, you ran out onto the deck to meet the silhouette of mountains against the rising sun. The longer you looked at it, the clearer the details became. The ridges of the mountains, the forests, the watch towers and houses. The uniformed ships that stood in the harbour.

You knew this day was coming, you had been waiting for it, and yet, now that it was right there in front of you, you wished to be as far from it as possible. In what must have been shock, you took a couple of steps back just to collide with something—someone. You turned around to see Eddie and his soft but sad smile.

‘Welcome home,’ he announced.

Home, sweet home.

Your head turned between him and the land in the too-near distance, waiting for one of them to disappear, maybe even both. Why was this so difficult for your mind to comprehend? Why were the first words to come from your mouth, ‘Can we turn back?’

‘As much as I would want to,’ he sighed, ‘I’m sure they’ve noticed us by now.’ They must have. The watchers in those towers had the eyes of hawks, one of the reasons why your town was named after the bird.

‘So, what do we do?’ This is not how someone who is to be returning to their family after months spent with criminals was meant to respond. Everything about this was so wrong.

‘Go put your dress on.’ Eddie cocked his head back to the cabin. ‘I doubt they will appreciate you wearing this, as much as I adore it on you.’ That is when you realised you stood out on the main deck wearing only his shirt. ‘I’ll meet you in a few minutes.’ And with that, he gave you that look he had given you all those times before when you had been too headstrong in your own actions. Please, listen to me. It will be alright.

You walked back, feeling like you were floating, but not anywhere near the same way that you had the previous few days. It did not feel like you were weightless, on a cloud, free of worry or from the world. You were drifting. Far out into the abyss with nothing to hold on to. In this same state, you walked over to the wardrobe, where you had hung your dress, removed the item of clothing you had on and put on the old and tethered garment. It had once fit you like a glove, but you were far from the person it was measured for.

Just as you finished putting it on, the door opened, and Eddie walked in.

You didn’t want to look at him. Not because of anger, you had, after all, no reason to be angry at him at that moment, but because you were sure that if you looked into those brown irises again, you would break down. He must have had the same idea as you as he walked past you, only grabbing the nearest shirt off the rack, and making a headway to the desk.

‘What are you going to do now?’ After all, that had been what pulled you two together, the money your father would offer for your return. That is what kept you on this ship safe for as long as it did… although, in retrospect, you doubted that Eddie would have ever done anything to you. Maybe he had always intended to bring you home before even speaking to you. Perhaps the money made no difference. But funnily enough, you wanted him to get it. Something in you, a deep instinct, told you that it was what he deserved.

‘Write a random note,’ he said, and you could see he was doing his best not to laugh. ‘Then we’ll send the note out, hope it reaches your dearest, and we’ll make the exchange.’ His words were quick and emotionless, but you noted the hint of novice apprehension in his plan.

‘You’ve never done this before, have you?’ you asked as you made your way up to the chair across from him.

‘Try not to sound too disappointed over my lack of experience in selling beautiful maidens back to their prosperous fathers.’

‘Not at all,’ you shook your head, grabbing the piece of parchment and quill from him. ‘But let me. It will be proof of life, and besides, your handwriting is unrecognisable. He won’t be able to read any of it.’

Eddie stared at you blankly as you began writing.

Dear father,

But what were you to write? The ink dripped off the quill as you pondered on the words. For a message that was quite clear, it was hard to actually phrase it and write it out. By the time you had signed your name at the bottom of the page, the Hellfire had almost reached the coast. You read it through once more:

Dear Father,

I know it has been a long time since you last heard from me. The Red Tail is no more; I was the only survivor, to my knowledge, saved by a crew of rogue sailors. They have kept me locked away but are willing to free me for the price of 5.000 pounds. Please meet me at noon at the Star Port for the exchange.

Love,

Your daughter,

—

You had decided against the mention of piracy or anything specific about the ship’s sinking, knowing that it would only drive your father away from pain the ransom. Eddie had been unable to keep still while you wrote your drafts but now stood behind you, hands on the backrest of your chair, reading the note along with you, over your shoulder.

‘Who would have thought, my darling extorting her own father.’

‘I am doing no such thing!’ You looked up at him, ‘I am simply… aiding you in extorting my father.’ when it came to this, you had little sympathy for your father. He had plenty of money to spare and often spent it on ridiculous causes. A faux rescue of his only daughter could surely fit in between those other purchases.

There was a knock on the door, which Eddie welcomed, and Harrington walked in.

‘Got any mail for me to deliver, cap?’ it had been unanimously agreed that Harrington was the most inconspicuous of the whole crew and would be able to walk through the city unbothered to deliver the message.

You had just been in the middle of folding the parchment. The last thing left was to let the wax melt to keep the corners together. With the seal done, you handed Steve the letter. He smiled at you with thanks, but his face hid an expression of loss, almost. A farewell. But before he left, you clutched him in an embrace, almost knocking Steve over.

When the door closed behind him, it was only a matter of waiting. After your fifth round of pacing through the room, Eddie walked up in front of you, blocking your already quite well-outlined route. He had met you right in the middle.

‘I would prefer if you did not spend our last moments together walking holes into my carpet.’

‘You do not have a carpet,’ you quipped.

‘Must you be so difficult now?’ He laughed that laugh you cherished so much before he placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you the way you adored even more. The sun was almost at its peak, and so was your heart, and you had no idea what to do when it would finally fall. Either way, you would find out in a few minutes.

‘Do you think—’

‘Highly doubtful,’ Eddie said somberly before you could even finish your thought. ‘You had said it yourself, darling; you are you, I am me. This is not meant to work.’ But what if it could, you wanted to shout, shocking yourself for the millionth time on board this ship.

‘Well, then it had been an honour being your captive, captain.’ You said with a deep breath to keep your composure up.

‘Oh, don’t look so sad just yet, princess, the real fun is only about to begin.’ At this statement, you blinked slowly. ‘Or did you think you were done aiding me?’

‘What else do you need me to do?’

‘Since you mentioned it, I think we need to make you look the part of my sweet captive. Make your father believe we really had kept you all good and locked up, hmm?’ He grinned. ‘I really did not do a good job at this, did I? Got you all spoiled up here.’

‘It was much appreciated.’ You giggled, incapable of keeping a straight face when Eddie got like this. Looking back, you could barely imagine the cold and dark exterior that he had once posed in front of you since he had been an entirely different person underneath that. Then again, so were you. ‘So, what did you have in mind?’

‘A lot,’ he licked his lips, ‘but I don’t think we have the time for that. We’ll probably have to do with tying you up like a pretty gift—just your hands, of course,’ he quickly added as he saw your eyes widen. ‘And I’ll be sure to not make it too tight.

‘Alright,’ you nodded. After all, you trusted him. You watched him look through the room for something to wrap around your hands. In the end, he found a piece of rope hanging among the many items on his wall. It was a bit too long for even the intricate, but relatively weak, knot he tied over your wrists—enough to give the impression of captivity, but in reality, barely grazed your wrists. He made sure to check.

And then it was time. You walked out of the cabin for the final time. The room in which you had spent so many tumultuous days and nights. A silly part of you wanted to actually run down the ladder into the lower deck to see the holding cell one last time. For what reason, you could not fathom.

Eddie guided you with a hand on your back, down the gangplank, which wobbled with every step you took. You tried to keep your breathing under control, but then again, if this had been a real threat to your life, you would probably feel similarly. The walk down the harbour was the longest of your life. There just came no end to it, and you could not, frustratingly enough, make your mind up if you wanted that or not. After all, each step closer to the port was one step further away from him… and when had you become so dependent on him? Weeks ago, you had thought up visions of killing him in his sleep; now, you could not think of life without him.

Your thoughts were still fighting for some kind of cohesion when you saw him walk down the street. Accompanied by his usual entourage of guards. Two of them carried a large trunk between them, which must have been filled with gold or other treasures to meet the demand.

‘Papa!’ You screamed out; an incautious urge to run towards him propelled you forward, just to be pulled back by Eddie. You glanced his way, and your breath hitched at what you saw. In the short amount of time that might have felt like an eternity that it took you to walk down the harbour, he had turned into what you could only describe as his old self. The same version of him that you had seen when you were “welcomed’ aboard the Hellfire. The Eddie that terrorised your nightmares. His eyes were pointed like daggers at your father.

He, in turn, stood aback at the sight of who had been holding you. Most of the men around him did, in fact. It caused a bit of a stir, the murmur of his name travelled in disbelief, but Eddie was the first to speak up in full volume.

‘Governor. I see we meet again.’

‘Munson.’ Your father always had the skill to look unimpressed at the sight of any man, always seeming to be above them, and even now, he did a good job hiding any other emotion, but you could see the crack of fear breaking him on the edges. It was, however, quickly replaced as he spoke in his usual tone of business.

‘Munson. What are you doing here?’

‘Why, returning your precious jewel, of course.’ He grinned, pulling you closer to him. Some of the guards leapt forward but were stopped by your father and Eddie, who reached for the knife at his side. All eyes were on you and him as he let the blade slowly track over your arm. ‘Don’t wanna do that, gents. It will only cost us more trouble.’

‘You got the gold, Munson, now let her go!’ There were still several feet between the two sides of the deal. Eddie looked around theatrically.

‘Do I?’ He cocked his head in his own direction. The two men in charge of the trunk hauled it over to you. You had no idea how Eddie was meant to carry it back to the ship. As they brought the gold over, your father spoke again.

‘Is she well? Unharmed?’

You nodded, but Eddie nudged you with the hilt of his knife, his lips against your ear, ‘C’mon, darling, the man’s asked you a question.’

‘I am fine, father.’ You spoke. By that point, the men reached you and, with a final kiss to your temple, Eddie let you go. You were immediately pulled out of his reach by the guards. They must have thought they were holding you up as your legs objected to moving. You were unable to look away from him. All up until you felt your face pressed against your father’s jacket.

‘There, there, it is alright,’ he hushed, and it took you a moment to realise why. You were crying. And if only he, or anyone else, understood that it was for all the opposite reasons. No fear or relief was escaping you through those tears. It was a loss as you saw Eddie standing there, bowing down at the end of his performance, blowing you a kiss goodbye.

It was the panic when you saw the rest of the people in the harbour. All of their eyes on you. On him. None of them were simple bystanders or civilians.

Your dream had been crumbling into ruin all these days, but this was the final blow. All of it came down, all at once, and it started with your father’s call.

‘Guards!’, and suddenly the tenfold of guards appeared out of all possible directions. They had him surrounded, weapons at the ready. Eddie had nowhere to run. Your father spoke clearly, cutting the silence with the blade of his words. ‘Munson, I arrest you on charges of murder and high treason!’

Chapter 10

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wishing-on-a-staranise · 10 months ago

Text

Ch 3: expanding horizons.

(s.h. x gn!reader)

from the river to the sea. (get in your daily clicks, read about it, donate if you can.)

Summary: you want to talk to Steve, but between your fights with hopper and looking after el and max, you just can't seem to get the time out but it's okay! you'll make the time to talk later... right?

Warnings: use of (y/n); no pronouns used (gn!reader); sad; arguments; flashbacks; injuries; a wild Eddie Munson appears; high school bullies

Word count: 8k

A/n: changed the chapter title but still feel like nothing fits for this one :{

also this was supposed to be out atleast a week or two ago but shit keeps coming up and I get very sleepy very early soz guys ;(

i know i asked for lil soft happy blurb ideas earlier unforch nothing got my creative juices flowing... well- there is one Nancy fic I've been wanting to write for a while now but I feel like I'm already working on so many different fics I don't wanna add another one but just know I'm thinking of Nancy wheeler and soon sapphic energy will strike upon me on a random weekday and I'll write her down

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It was hard to breathe. Steve's vision is blurry as he walks through the woods towards his car. He feels ridiculous-- absolutely ridiculous, walking through woods in a stupid sailor uniform after being caught doing the deed with the person he is dating by said person's father.

Walk of shame is an understatement.

But that isn't all that makes it all so ridiculous, so damn stupid. Steve knew he shouldn't have been eavesdropping on you two, it was a matter between you and Hopper, but he just couldn't help it– he was the topic of the argument after all.

He didn't know what to do when Hopper's voice got louder, when he started shouting. He wanted to barge in, to act as your shield.

"No, you listen", Hopper’s voice comes loud even through the door, "You are fucking grounded. You can live your stupid paranoid fantasy and stay safe and stuck in this cabin”

“Hop–”

"And that means no tv–", the man interrupts you and Steve hates how much this whole thing reminds him of his own dad.

"Dad–", he hears you whimper and it breaks his heart. Because you don't call Hopper ‘dad’, not yet anyway. You had once confided in the boy that the title felt too big. Too scary. You’d told him that Hopper didn’t mind. That he’d told you to take as long as you need, to say it if and when it feels right. But with the way he is shouting, it makes him wonder if gentle words like that could ever leave his mouth.

Boots shuffle on the other side of the door, "No radio or cassettes, no more phone, no more tv– ", Steve hears the clatter and something falling on the floor. "What else are you hiding from me, huh?”

"Nothing, Hopper–", his feet stomp once again, "Hopper, stop–"

"No more fucking dating", his voice booms, followed by the sound of something tearing up.

Your voice cracks when you exclaim, "NO!!--"

"And NO MORE FUCKING STEVE HARRINGTON", Steve can’t help but flinch a little at the large thump that follows. "D'YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?" He barely even heard the sniffle you let out. “Asked you a fucking question.”

This is it, Steve thinks, enough of this. He is stepping in, Hopper, respect and his dad be damned, he will not let the man shout at you like that and not do anything.

Just when Steve was about to swing open the door, he heard you speak up, "No."

"What'd you say?"

"I said, no."

"Why? You love that stupid idiot or something?"

The air is thick with tension, Hopper’s question lingers in it for a while. You don't say a word. Seconds pass and your voice finally comes out, all shaky and rough. “He’s my friend. He’s my only friend, Jim.”

Steve’s knuckles turn white around the door knob. He cant help the pit that starts forming in his stomach, the disappointment that settles in it.

Friend. Friend? That's it?

Sure, you both had just been dating only for two weeks but they were one of the best two weeks of his life and you don't feel the same?

His grip tightens. was Steve being irrational? Maybe. But he cant help that pit in his stomach to spread wider– not because you don't love him but because he realises that he does. The realisation hits him like a bag of bricks, sure to bruise.

He thinks back to the night at your old trailer, the night he realised he liked you. All those months spent sneaking in just to see your face and your smile, tell you stupid jokes, hear your laugh, and to just be around you— it meant nothing to you?

And now, he loves you. He loves you and you don't.

"Cut the bullshit, y/n", he hears Hopper mutter from the other side.

his jaw tightens, molars grinding. Steve felt like history was repeating itself but this time he won't let it kick him down. He won't let it happen.

He won't let it happen to him again— he couldn't. So he puts his shirt back on, blinks back the moisture in his eyes and leaves the cabin.

Now, walking to his car, he dared not to look back where he had just left, he wished to not even think of what had just happened. This was stupid, he was stupid. And as he drives through Hawkins towards starcourt mall, all he could think of was how much he felt about you and how much you didn't.

Hopper was right, this was all just a bunch of bullshit.

Bullshit. He laughs to himself at it without finding any humour in it. its funny how much that one word has ruined things in his life. The two syllables, a running motif in his life that he just can't seem to escape.

When Steve walks into work, Robin Buckley notices the air around him is thick and stale, his shoulders slumped. He was missing his scoops ahoy hat, his hair in disarray which is an uncommon occurrence considering he always had it styled as it is his self proclaimed best feature. His eyes have a glazed look to them, Robin notices– not that she was going to investigate as to why. she doesn't care about him, they aren't friends, they are far from it.

Something else she notices, Steve was trying to hit on every girl that came to the counter. So much so that the girl had conjured up a tally scoreboard– five lines marked below the 'you suck' and zero below the 'you rule'.

Robin listens to Steve trying to flirt with another girl and doing so badly. She fights back a snicker as the curly haired girl rejects the boy. As the girl and her friend walk away giggling, she hears, ".... It's my first day here...", Steve's voice trails off before letting out a heavy sigh, his head hanging low.

"And another one bites the dust!" Robin announces, sliding the whiteboard so Steve could see it– marking another tally under the 'you suck' title. "You are O for six, Popeye"

He crosses his arms, turning around, "Yeah, I can count"

"You know that means you suck."

"Yep, I can read too."

"Since when?", She retorts quizzically, putting the board back where it had been before continuing, "Why exactly are you suddenly trying to flirt with every girl in Hawkins?"

His brows knit together before he looks away, shaking his head a little, "I'm not trying to... flirt with anyone”

"Yeah, you are. I thought you were already spoken for"

"I have no clue what you're talking about"

she squints her eyes, "Oh, really? what about--"

“I don't even want to talk to you right now”, he interrupts her, turning around, his eyes not meeting hers.

“Not too keen about it either”, she is quick to say it-- they arent friends after all. "i mean– Y'know", she rests her crossed arms on the counter, "it's a crazy idea but have you ever considered telling them the truth?" she shrugs towards where the two girls had just been.

"Oh, that I'm so stupid that I couldn't even get into tech and now my douchebag dad's trying to teach me a lesson? That I make three bucks an hour and that I– that I have no future?", That the one person I love never seems to love me back? "That truth?"

“Wow Harrington. A joy to be around, aren't you?”, she shakes her head, trying to rid her head of thoughts and questions about Steve Harrington's love life. “And where’s your hat? You’re supposed to have it on at all times, y’know, company policy”

“I– um, I forgot it at home”

“‘Course you did”, Robin sighs. Before she could say anything else, Robin's eyes land on a group of girls walking towards the ice cream store, "Hey, twelve o' clock", she tells him, gesturing towards the group.

Steve let out a breath, he goes to fix his hair, quirking a brow towards Robin as if to ask if he looked good.

“And he says he isnt flirting”

“I’m just trying to look presentable”, he defends, running his fingers through his hair one last time.

"oh my god you're a whole new man", she says all dry and sarcastic.

"I know right ooh–", the brown eyed boy shimmies his shoulders then quickly turns towards the counter, "ahoy there, ladies! Didn't see you there! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavour with me? I'll be your captain….", The sailor uniform clad boy announces rather loudly, "I'm Steve Harrington."

The group of girls look at the boy with wide eyes, holding in their giggles. Steve is still babbling about the many flavours they offered, his gaze flitting from one girl to another. Robin grimaces and turns to put another tally under 'you suck'.

…

There is a knock on your bedroom door, followed by a voice. "(Y/n)?", Jim calls out from the other side.

Your door is locked. Still hiding under your blankets, you'd spent the entire night tossing and turning, barely getting any sleep. Your back hurt from lying in the same position for so long, your eyelids droopy. And Hopper knocking on your door every ten minutes ever since he woke up wasn't helping.

"(Y/n)?", The man hollers again, "just... open the door, okay– I have breakfast", He is greeted with silence, once again.

"Listen," he sighs, "I just want to talk...", he pauses and after it was indicative that he wasn't getting a response, he bangs his balled-up fist against the door.

"Go away", he finally hears your voice out loud. You did not want to see him, you couldn't. Yesterday's fight still fresh in your mind, you couldn't bear to look at him or the things he'd broken during said fight. the aftermath of his lash-out lied shoved in a lonesome corner of your cramped room. You wanted him to leave you alone, to go to work like he always does so you could call Steve and maybe apologise for all that Hopper might've said to the boy. so that things could go back to the way they were.

There is silence and for a minute you think he actually listened to you. But then the muffled sound of his sigh reaches your ears. "Hey, I know that…", he breaths in, "yesterday– I might have said too much… and I– I just wanna talk it out and maybe–"

Suddenly, the door flies open and he is met with your face. Your red rimmed eyes filled with anger, nostrils flared and hair a mess. "I told you to go away. So, just leave me alone", you say through gritted teeth, voice cold before slamming the door on Jim's face.

"HEY, don't you fucking slam doors!", His palm went for the knob, locked. "Open this door, (y/n)."

"No", he barely hears you over the blood rushing in his ears.

"Where the hell have you gotten this attitude from lately, huh? From your little friend? You think you're being real cool? being a rebel?"

"Oh, you think you're being real father-like?"

it only makes him angrier, he clenches his jaw, "(Y/n)... open this door", he says it almost like a warning.

"No."

"Fine!", he throws his hands up before holding up a angry finger at the door like an angry father does, "Just know that I tried to have an adult and mature conversation with you, but since you're such a reckless, immature child, I'll let you fucking be!", He turns away from the door, stomping his feet rather purposely.

The door swings open behind him. he turns around and you're there all furious and mad.

"Ah, look who it is!", The man exclaims, sarcasm evident in his tone, "Finally gracing us peasants!"

"You're the one who broke all my stuff and acted like a man-child", You hiss, pointing an accusatory finger towards the man, "And I'm the reckless and immature one?"

"Not only are you that but you're also stupid and irresponsible– breaking a rule, with that jackass Steve Harrington, no less!”

“Don't say that about him, he’s my–”

“Your friend? Yeah, I heard that, I saw it all too. I'm sure you guys are great friends!" Jim speaks with mockery in his words, "D'you kiss and fornicate with all your friends?"

With a scowl he continues, “you are immature and irresponsible, sneaking him in past my alarms like that–"

“They’re shit anyway!” you shout to interrupt him but he keeps talking, voice only getting louder.

"Not only did you put yourself in danger but El as well."

"How the hell did that put us in danger? you know Steve he–"

"Don't you talk back to me!” there's that tone again, the one that makes you scared, “you put us all at risk for this stupid boy. So yeah, you are irresponsible"

"God, why do you hate me so much??", You blurt out– its frustrated, tired and angry. You don't realise what you'd said until it was already out. Tears line your red eyes, and you look so tired, you want to go back to sleep.

all his irritation and rage are gone, his face falls, "What–", Hopper starts but gets interrupted by a familiar voice.

"(Y/n)? Hopper? What's happening?", El, who had been presumably waiting for Mike outside inquires with furrowed brows as she comes back in, concern etched into her features.

Both you and hooper say that it was, "nothing". You turn your face away so the girl couldn't see your distraught state and unfallen tears, trying to discreetly wipe them away. Jim rubs his palms over his face to collect himself, himself also not meeting the young girl's eyes.

She looks between the two of you before moving towards the phone, “is everything okay?” Hopper asks after clearing his throat. you glare at him.

“Yes.” she answers. You and Hopper stand silently as she asks for Mike on the phone. She then goes to her room to continue the conversation with the boy.

He clears his throat once again, and when you catch him looking at you, you cast him a glare full of indignation that makes him avert his gaze away. "I'm– I should get going...", Jim mumbles more to himself before taking his hat, wallet and keys and then heading out while you turn to usher yourself into your room, wallowing in self pity, once again.

Your room was dark, none of the lights on and somehow it was colder in there. Within moments you hid yourself under the blankets, ignoring the ever-present headache you'd had for a few days now.

1980.

You got detention, again.

You are used to it at this point. It is the same old– you wouldn't know how to react in a social situation, a classmate would make fun of you, and you'd get mad. Anger would boil in your blood as you would walk up to the person and punch them square in the face. Their parents would complain, you'd get detention and then a lecture in the principal's office with Hopper. The same old.

This time it is Tony Reed who was graced with a split lip and a bruised cheek. The blonde boy had decided it was very cool and funny to trip you in the lunch cafeteria and then proceed to spill his chocolate milk over you, calling you something that you didn't know the meaning of but assumed it was bad considering how his group was laughing and sneering. Your limbs had worked faster than your brain and here you are sitting outside the principal's office, picking your nails and waiting for Hopper to come out.

It has been almost close to a year since you escaped the lab. Almost a year of hiding. Almost a year of running. Almost a year of trying to fit in and failing ever so graciously at it. Almost a year since you'd met Jim Hopper.

Seldom do you two talk now, the man is always busy with his work. You also had your own job, school and the overall goal to not be caught by the lab again. The man doesn't know about your past. He is unaware of all of the secrets the small town of Hawkins holds, so does everyone else.

The creak of the door alerts you that it is Hopper coming out of the office. He picks up the hat he'd placed on the seat next to you, a silent gesture to tell you that he is ready to leave. You follow him out the doors, quick steps catching up to him. You sit in his car, slamming the doors behind you.

There is a silence, your gaze fixed on hands resting in your lap. Jim reaches for the cigarette pack in his pocket, he lights it up, blowing out a puff of smoke– making the car smell like strong tobacco.

He lets out a long, heavy sigh, "(y/n), we've talked about this", he continues once he notices you aren't going to interrupt him, "you can't keep doing this. This is the second time this month"

"(Y/n)", he says tenderly when you don't answer, "Hey... look at me when I'm talking to you" You look up from your lap, gaze connecting with his. "You cant keep doing this. If someone says something, we've discussed how to deal with it– you talk to your friends, teachers, or me"

"I don't have friends, teachers don't believe, and you are busy….. always", when Hopper doesn't say anything you continue, "I have not seen you since the last time I got in trouble. you are never there at the PTAs or–"

"Yeah, that's because I am not your damn parent, (y/n)", Jim interrupts you.

Your gaze is back to your hands in your lap, picking at the skin near the nails. The man beside you lets out a soft sigh, rubbing his temple. "Hey, hey", he whispers, "How about you promise and try not to kill another kid, I'll get you a new shirt and treat you with some Benny's, hmm? How's that sound?"

…

You heard a knock at your door, a softer and quieter one as compared to Hopper's, "(Y/n)? Can I come in?" El asks.

"Yeah, sure". The door opens, the hinges creaking slightly– light pooling into the dark room. Eleven lets herself in, sitting by the foot of your bed.

"What happened with Hopper?"

"You heard it all didn't you?" The girl nods. "I'm sorry…" that I shouted? That he shouted? That you heard it?

"So, Hopper knows about Steve?" Eleven inquires.

"Yeah, he does", you sigh before asking, "Hopper's gone right?"

You sister nods. You get up from your place, feet padding towards the phone hung by the kitchen wall– dialing up Steve's house number. When the line goes to the voicemail, you opt to try for his workplace number. You were greeted with the raspy voice of a girl.

You immediately hang up. El looks at you quizzically, “it wasn't him" Its always Steve who picks up the phone. Normally, at this time, Steve would always be there to pick up your calls. And Steve never ignores your calls.

You let out a forlorn sigh, putting the phone back on the receiver. Eleven standing by your side ready with a bowl of cereal for you and herself. You thank the girl before going to take a seat on the couch– she follows you closely then sits beside you. The girl twiddles her thumbs, clearly wishing to say something, "I wanted to ask you something", she speaks up after a while of eating silently.

"Yeah?"

"Mike... is being strange.. he is lying, I think" The girl explains to you all the details of everything that occurred between her and Mike. The way the girl explained everything, it seemed like your sister was asking for advice but considering you know jack shit about relationships, you were stumped.

After you both were done breakfast, she suddenly grabs your wrist and pulls you off the couch only stopping for you to put on your shoes and then pulling you through the door.

"El, what– where are you going?"

"To get advice."

"From who?"

Eleven tells you she was taking you to Max's home. You aren't sure that roaming in the neighbourhood was a good idea yet you let her lead you. The houses almost all look the same, surrounded by well mowed lawns and next to no one. Except for one person with bright red hair. Max is practising skateboarding and in the process the board slips from under her feet, rolling towards you and your sister.

The short haired girl beside you stops the board with her feet, picks it up and walks towards the redhead.

"Hi", Eleven greets.

"...Hi?" Max echoes in confusion, glancing between you and Eleven. You gave a wave of your hand towards the girl.

"Can we... talk?"

....

"... And then he said, he missed me", your sister explains to Max who is pacing around her room, furrows of lines on her forehead. You are leaning against the wall by the door, eyes following the redhead's movement. "And then he just... hung up"

"He's a piece of shit", Max says matter-of-factly.

“That seems... harsh?” you speak up a little unsure.

“Are you seriously defending Mike right now?” Max looks at you pointedly.

“You know what? You’re right", you hold your hands up in surrender, "my bad.”

"What?" El says, looking between you two and suddenly it makes you feel bad about shitting on her boyfriend so openly.

"El think about it", Max says, now stopping infront of the girl to get her full attention, "Mike doesn't have jack shit to do today– his Nana obviously isn't sick. I guarantee you, him and Lucas are playing Atari right now."

"But friends don't lie", El states naively.

"Yeah, but boyfriends lie." She said it like it was the obvious thing, "All. The. Time."

Huh.

"What do I do?" Eleven queries.

"Listen, you're going to stop calling him– you're going to ignore his calls. As far as you're concerned, he doesn't exist"

"Doesn't exist?" Both you and El say at the same time, words pour out of your mouth before you even realise-- clearly more invested in Max's advice that you might have wanted. Max and El look at you, you clear your throat awkwardly before murmuring a little "sorry".

"Yeah," Max turns back to face El, "he treated you like garbage! You're gonna treat him like garbage– give him a taste of his own medicine"

"Give him the... medicine", El repeats the phrase a little wrong yet Max doesn't correct her and instead hums in acknowledgement.

"And if he doesn't fix this and explain himself– dump his ass", both your and your sister's eyes widened.

"C'mon", Max said, pulling Eleven off of the bed.

"Where are we going exactly?" You spoke up.

“We? You're coming too?” Max asks, the question directed towards El more so than you.

“Yes, (y/n) is coming”, she answers immediately, nodding.

"Okay we are going to have some fun, there's more to life than stupid boys, y'know."

....

You aren't sure why you are here. In a crowded bus— way too many strangers, you think– headed towards the talk of the town, the starcourt mall. You know you are breaking a rule, but you keep reminding yourself that you are there to take care of El.

When the three of you step out of the bus you are hit across the face with the fact that there are even more people. Way too many strangers. The short haired girl beside you says, almost as if voicing your concerns, "too many people… against the rules."

"Seriously? You have superpowers! What's the worst that could happen?"

…

It has been almost a month since you punched Tony Reed.

You haven't seen Hopper ever since that lunch at Benny's. Despite him having promised you to meet you more as long as you avoided fights. That was the verdict.

So far, you'd still managed to stay out of it for a month despite the bullying and sneers having increased tenfold.

It is a Wednesday morning in the middle of July, it had rained the previous night so the air is immensely humid– you are sweating your ass off. There are sweat spots on your gym t-shirt. Your shoes slip on the wet grass, you fall with a thud against the ground. A boisterous echo of laughs sounds behind you and as you turn, you see Tony Reed, with his group of friends which included Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, and many more who you haven't bothered to memorise the name of— Hawkins was full of bullies.

"Hey, you okay?"

You turn around and are met with a mop of frizzy black hair and an extended hand to help you up.

"Yeah. Fine", you mutter under your breath, not taking his helping hand.

"Hey, Munson!! That your co-freak?" Tommy shouts from across the field.

"Match made in hell!!", Tony added, and the rest of the group bursts out into an obnoxious fit of laughter. Before you know it, your hands that were just hanging by your side curl up into fists and almost involuntarily, you start walking forward towards the group of bullies.

Ever since that last fight, they have been on your ass. from spilling stuff on you to locking you in empty classrooms so you miss classes. the entire group reminds you of your brothers and sisters back at the lab. Your Papa-- Martin. Martin would make them fight you, despite knowing full well you'd lose. the lab infirmary had always been your second room more so than the rainbow room.

There is a fight. somehow, you aren't sure how though, Eddie gets involved as well.

By the time some teacher stopped it, you had bruised knuckles and a split lip, Eddie had one too and a bruise spread across his cheek. Tony had a black eye and a broken elbow. Maybe you and Eddie made a good team.

You are then called to the principal's office and are ordered to call Hopper once. The threat of being suspended from school hanging in front of you like a sword.

You call Hopper. He doesn't pick up. You call the station. Flo, the lady at the desk, tells you that he was busy but that she would convey the message as soon as she could.

You wait five hours. And then some more. The sun has already set. The sky is filled with clouds of different shades and hues of lilacs and oranges and pinks. The road is close to barren.

The principal has suspended you and Eddie for a week. His uncle had talked to the principal– the old man had offered to drop you off, the two of you did live in the same trailer park afterall. you had refused but now you wholeheartedly regret it as you look at your watch and realise how long you had been sitting on the dirty, concrete pavement. The gravel was uncomfortable, the air still humid.

But you and your stubborn ass are here waiting for Jim Hopper. At this point, you aren't even sure if he was coming. Your rusty bike stands abandoned in the stands.

As the sky was starting to get darker, you realised that you should probably get going, you shouldn't sit out in the open like this all alone. Then there was the stubborn part of you. You didn't want to move; everything was too much yet nothing at all.

Several Minutes pass. That's when you hear the sound of tires against gravel and engine revving. You look up to see the all too familiar Blazer along with the all too familiar face.

The car stops in front of you, "Hey, kid–", he tries starting while cranking the window down.

"You are six hours late", you interrupt him.

he lets out, "I'm sorry.." his fingers rub over the steering wheel, "C'mon I'll drop you off", he says with a jerk of his head towards the passenger seat.

You walk around the car to get in the passengers side, slumping down in the seat. Jim shifts the gear, driving through the streets of hawkins.

"You got in another fight?" Jim finally breaks the silence of the car, "What happened this time?" He asks before you could tell him. You almost want to be mad at him for being so oblivious to the details but you are tired and your injuries hurt– the school nurse was awful at her job. You are exhausted so you settle on explaining.

"I got suspended…", Jim's eyes flit to your face before quickly turning back onto the road, "...for a week."

The man lets out a deep sigh, "You promised that wouldn't happen"

"And you promised that you'd visit me", you can't help but add a little venom to your words.

"...ah, thats what this is about", he says, almost a mumble to himself.

Jim doesn't say anything for the rest of the car ride. Neither do you. The air is thick with tension and you don't want to be the first one to cut it. You don't say anything when Hopper doesn't turn at the intersection he is supposed to. After a few minutes, the car stops in front of the video store and Jim finally speaks up .

"Alright kid, What's your favourite movie?" You look at him, confused, before shrugging. "What about your favourite snack?" You shrug again.

You wonder why his features soften for a second, "Okay, we need to fix that", he says turning the car off, "You need to develop some taste, kid. Expand your horizons. That make sense?"

You nod before he mutters a 'c'mon' while getting out of the car. You follow suit. You and Hopper pick out a random movie and some snacks and popcorn. Then he drives you to your trailer where you watch the movie and enjoy the sweet and salty snacks to your heart's delight.

Somewhere near the halfway mark of the movie, you fell asleep– the exhaustion of the day finally taking over. When Hopper looks back from the screen to look at you to see how much you were enjoying the movie, he notices your closed eyes, the steady rise and fall of your chest as your head was lolled to the side.

Jim immediately pauses the movie. When he looks at the time, the clock reads 9:30 p.m., he decides it was pretty late. The man moves to pick you up and carry you to your bedroom, the movement wakes you up. It isn't until he finally put you on the mattress, that you speak up.

"Hopper?" Jim hums in acknowledgement. "Is the movie over?"

"No but you need to sleep, it's getting late", he smoothens your blanket over you. "We will finish it... later?"

"Later", you echo. Jim was getting up to leave when you call out again, "Are you... leaving?"

"Yeah, kid. I'm sorry"

"You can stay", you try to bargain.

"I can't. But you'll see me later this week I promise", he turns to leave again before he notices the teddy bear sitting by the shelves. "You still got this bear?"

"Mr. Arnold", you correct him through a yawn.

"Right, right. Mr. Arnold Bearenbearer– I remember." He chuckles to himself, a smile creeping onto his face at the name he made up when he gave it to a younger scared you. the toy is old, the blue ribbon around its neck is fraying, tattered-- well-loved. it was one of Sarah's favourites, "You take good care of him?" You nod in response.

"Good, because if you take care of him..."

"he will take good care of me."

".. yeah, its like a superpower– I’ve said this all before, haven't I?”

You nod with a sleepy shy smile.

“Yeah, well I'm an old man, kid. Can't keep up.” Jim smiles and you mirror it before your features contort into another yawn. "Good night kid. Sleep tight"

"Good night."

…

You have a headache, similar to the one you'd have back when you had powers, it had subsided earlier in the day but increased again when you got to the mall. There are too many people, you ascertain as you walk behind Max and El, weaving through the crowd. Max takes El and inadvertently you, to various shops in the mall. Giggles from the two girls fill the air as they try the various things from dresses to hats and even shoes. Trying to find the super-powered girl her style, something she could call her own.

El had a grin pasted on her face and so did Max and you knew that this was going to be the start of an amazing friendship.

You are glad El was starting to find who she is– finding out what she loves and what she doesn't. and Max is the perfect person to encourage and empower her without being patronising to the girl.

In the shoe store, El is trying on a pair of high heels. Her legs wobble as she tries to strut in the shoes, losing her balance almost immediately, the girl falls to the ground. You and Max are quick to help her get up. When you look up, you see a group of girls, with a judgemental look painted upon their faces.

Your nostrils flare, fists clench and you are about to say something to the strangers. But before you can do so, the girls beside you do something that you would never have expected— they laugh. They brush it off and unapologetically laugh.

Max leads El and you towards the food court. Your ears perk at the mention of scoops ahoy. You know that Steve would probably be there, maybe you could apologise for whatever Jim had said to him. Maybe get an answer for why you couldn't get ahold of him earlier.

As you walk through the herd of people with a slight pep in your step, you try your best to follow the two girls to the ice cream parlour.

Suddenly, your shoulders knock against someone, when you turn to see who it was, you are met with a man in a security uniform.

For the split second you both look at each other, annoyance and irritation flashes on his features along with a hint of what seems to be recognition; but you don't recognise the man, you are sure of it.

Confusion in your mind is quickly swept under the rug as the two girls quickly lead you towards scoops ahoy. Thoughts of the stranger long gone.

There on the counter is Steve Harrington, who had just finished serving two young boys.

"Hey, Harrington", Max greets.

"Hey", you mouth, shyly waving towards him from behind the two girls.

"What do you guys want?", The boy gestures towards the ice cream tubs, completely ignoring your greeting and skipping all pleasantries.

The girls gave in their orders, the boy starts to scoop the strawberry and vanilla ice cream, not even sparing a glance towards you.

"What about you (y/n)?" Eleven questions.

you blink a little dumbly, "Huh?"

"Which one d'you want?", Max asks.

"I…", your voice trails off when your gaze finally met Steve's– his jaw clenches and he had an unreadable expression on his face, "I don't know... I'll take any"

Suddenly, the window slides open behind Steve, revealing a girl with short blonde hair, headphones around her neck. She whispers something to Steve and the boy says something back. The girl smiles, and she looks pretty and you couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy.

He goes scooping one for you too– the same flavour which he'd gotten for you the day before. The boy turns around with two cones of ice cream in his hands, handing them to the girls and giving you yours without even looking at you. Your fingers brush together, the boy quickly retracts his hands and turns back towards the two girls. The girls mutter a "thanks" before starting to eat the sweet goodness.

"Wait a second," for a split second his gaze flicks towards you before going back to El, "are you even allowed to be here?" He knows the answer to his own question, you aren't allowed. You know the question is directed towards you, despite him saying it to El. Yet he dares not to look at you.

Your sister and Max fall into a fit of giggles before turning to leave. Your eyes are still locked onto Steve's, the expression on his face that you couldn't decode, one you'd never seen on his face– you didn't know what it meant and oh, did you want to stay and find out. But the two girls were already almost out of the store and you were supposed to look after them.

You mutter a little "bye" before turning to leave too– almost sprinting towards the girls. The boy doesn't return your salutation and instead just looks at the direction from where you'd left.

"Hey, dingus"

"Jesus, Christ. What?" Steve flinches at the sudden appearance of Robin beside him

"I would appreciate if you tried not to burn holes into our customers", Robin says leaning against the counter, "Also I got the second sentence"

"Great."

"Okay, you know what? I'm done with this"

"With what?"

"You! You've been acting this way for two days now. What the hell is happening?"

"Nothing is happening"

"Oh, really? 'cause you look like a kicked puppy right now"

"No I don't."

"Who was that?", she quirks her brow, jerking her chin towards where you had just been, "The person you just served?"

"They were Dustin's friends", he answers as nonchalantly as he could, shrugging,

"No, dingus, the older one."

"Also, Dustin's friend"

"So why the hell did you look at 'Dustin's friend' with such a dejected look?"

"That's just how my face looks and why do you care anyway?"

His coworker sighs before turning towards the backroom once again, mumbling a raspy "whatever". She does know now that Steve's demeanour had something to do with you. She could probably discern if she investigated a bit more. But at that moment she had bigger things to decipher like a super-secret Russian code.

…

"Why did Steve look like he was mad at you?" Eleven whispers to you– ever observant.

"I don't know", you whisper back to her.

"Oh, you've gotta be shitting me", the redhead who is walking ahead of you spoke up. Your gaze follows her eyeline and you see the boy's of the party by the bike stands. "Isn't this a nice surprise!" Max exclaims sarcastically.

Mike drops his bike, stunned, "What're you doing here?" He interrogates, pointing towards El.

"Shopping." Your sister states.

"This is her new style.. what d'you think?"

"What's wrong with you? You know she's not supposed to be here", he then turns to you and points an accusatory finger towards you, "You know she's not supposed to be here"

"What is she, your pet?"

"Yeah, am I your pet?"

"What? No!"

"Why do you treat me like garbage?"

"What?"

"You said Nana was sick"

"She is!"

"Yeah, she's so sick", Lucas speaks up from behind mike.

"Which is why we're here– to shop for Nana and also we're here to get something for you but it's hard 'cause I only have three dollars and fifty cents"

"It's Super hard", Lucas backs Mike up.

You notice Will, who stands behind them, not participating in the interaction. The young boy's gaze jumping from one person to another before it finally lands on Mike.

"You lie..", Eleven starts, "Why do you lie?"

When she gets no response from Mike, she walks closer to the boy. she looks at him for a second before her head turns at the sound of the bus arriving.

"I dump your ass."

Max's, Will's and lucas' eyes go wide at your sister's declaration. Max's mouth hangs open before Eleven grabs her and you by your wrists and pulls you to the bus.

Good for her, you think.

…

It is a Saturday. It is about to be seven days since Hopper promised to finish the movie with you. You stopped wondering when his later would come.

Since you are suspended from school you offered to do more shifts at the gift shop.

Every now and then teenagers from Hawkins high and middle school come in through the doors of the shop and they give you wary looks. Of course, word travels in a small town like Hawkins like wildfire.

The day the fight happened, everyone and their mother came to know that (Y/n), who doesn't seem to have a last name, and Eddie Munson had gotten in a fight with Tony Reed.

Tony Reed was a bully, not the harmless kind either. The older boy is the type to torment someone for days on end just for his entertainment but still never face the consequences for any of his actions.

Word started travelling around: Tony Reed was moving out of Hawkins.

Maybe you should've broken his elbow sooner.

You, your coworker and your boss close up the store at around 8 in the night. The older lady offered to give you a drive home, but you, however, refused. Despite how sweet the lady seemed, you still couldn't trust anyone. So you bicycle through the empty streets under the yellow streetlights– back to the trailer-van that you call home.

When you enter the trailer park, passing the Munson's trailer, you see a very familiar vehicle standing infront of your home. Your feet peddle faster, when you finally reach the car, you leave your bicycle behind and go to the slightly open driver's window. The person's face covered with the familiar hat.

You knock on the window, the man jolts awake– a groan audible through the cracked window. He removes his hat and as soon as he meets your eyes, his face softens– a smile appearing on his face.

You step back as he opens the door. Before Jim could shut the door behind him, you run to tackle his torso.

"You came!" You hug Jim, your arms barely reaching around and touching around his frame. The man lets out an oomf at the impact.

"Of course I did. I promised, didn't I?" he says while holding the back of your head, gently patting your hair– it has grown out a lot since he first met you.

You nod against his chest, not letting go of the grasp you had on him.

"Okay, kid. I think that's enough affection for the day. How bout we get inside, finish that movie huh? I bought some of those snacks you liked", you only hug him tighter in response. Hopper chuckles, continuing to hold and caress the back of your head.

…

There is the rev of an engine, the telltale sign of the arrival of Jim Hopper.

The door flings open, then closes harshly behind the tall man. You watch him from the couch as you were browsing through channels on the TV. Jim looks at you but immediately averts his gaze, he walks a little further in the house, his movements loopy and rocky. He is drunk, extremely so– the mostly empty bottle in his hand backing up your conclusion.

Jim stops in his tracks again. "Hey!" He shouts with a little gravel in his voice, "Hey!" He repeats again, walking towards El's room where your sister and her friend are. "When I say three inches, three–"

When the door flings open, he expects to be met with the sight of El and Mike but instead he is met with her and Max reading comic books on the bedroom floor.

"Do you knock? jeez"

"Yeah, jeez!" Eleven repeats.

"Oh, hey", Jim, who seemed to be unable to respond, slurs out, "I'm sorry… I thought that you–"

"Mike's not here", Max interrupts his rambling as if reading his mind.

"Max wanted to have a… sleepover. Is that okay?"

"Yeah." Hopper nods while repeatedly saying, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah", he awkwardly looks between the two girls and then asks the redhead, "Your parents know about this?"

"Yup."

"Yeah, that's cool. That– that's really cool." The man just keeps looking at the two girls, almost spacing out in his drunken state.

"Did you need something?"

"No, no", he shakes his head, his palm reaching for the door knob. "I'll let you– I'll leave"

He stands outside the now closed door. His drunken features morph into a smirk as he grabs yet another beer can and settled himself on the armchair in front of the tv.

"'sup." You sit down on the couch beside him with a plop.

He looks over at you. "You're talking to me now?"

"Don't worry, I'm still pissed off at you but", you say, not looking at him. "I think we need to discuss some things. Have a talk"

"Great", he takes a big gulp of the beer in his hand.

"So let's start easy", you say stretching your arms. "How was work? I mean... that's where you were, right?", you say, eyes gesturing towards the most colorful shirt you'd ever seen on Hopper.

"Yeah", he slurs out.

"I'm a human lie detector, remember? I can tell when you're lying. It was the one thing I was good at, So, try and give me the truth", you assert dryly, "Were you at work?"

You barely hear it when he says, "...no"

"Where were you?"

"At a friend's…"

"Friend's what? Birthday?"

"Ye– no"

"Who was this friend?" you interrogate with narrow eyes.

"They never came"

"That wasn't my question but okay", you pause, eyes trained on him, trying to read his expression, "Even though they didn't come, who was it you were expecting?"

He takes another big swig from the can before he says all hesitant, "...Powell and... Callaghan?"

"Lie."

"Godamnit, Joyce– it was Joyce,'' he finally admits, frustrated.

"So, you were just going on a dinner with your friend Joyce"

"Like I said, she never came"

"Yeah but you were going to go on dinner with Joyce, if she'd come"

"But she didn't"

"But you wanted her to", you pause before asking, "Was this a date?"

"No!"

You both know it is lie, you don't even need to state that it is a lie, so you just look at the drunk man beside you while he takes a swig of the beer can in his hand.

"Next question", you state, folding your legs onto the sofa, "What did you say to Steve?"

"What–" Jim almost seems startled by the sudden subject change.

"Yesterday. What did you tell Steve"

"I didn't tell him anything", you look at him a little more, but this wasn't a lie. You can tell he is telling the truth. "I mean, that the boy wasn't there when I left", he further clarifies, when you don't say anything.

"Oh." is all that comes out.

"Where did you get that shirt?" The man beside you suddenly asks while you're in your thoughts.

"I've always had this", you lie. Max and El had convinced you to buy some clothes back at the mall as well.

"No– it's brand new", Hopper insists.

"So is yours Hopper–", you once again gesture towards his bright coloured shirt, "but I guess you wanted to look good for your friend Joyce, right?"

its tense, he takes another sip from his beer. after a few seconds, you sigh before getting up, "anyway, think I'm gonna teach El a new word later– hypocrite. She needs to be familiar. how does that sound?"

You don't wait for his answer to come, you get up, walk away and slam the door behind you.

...

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things rewrite #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n

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thecreelhouse · 11 months ago

Text

accident prone

part five - a stormy kind of love

Paring: Steve Harrington x Francesca “Frankie” Amato (fem!OC)

Summary: Amidst Frankie’s ruthless flare up, the truth finally spills over and out, just not in a way Steve has ever expected or experienced before.

WC: 11k+ (oops lol)

Includes: a little angst, a lot of fluff, language, mentions/discussions/symptoms of disability (specifically surrounding fibromyalgia and lupus), internalized ableism, hurt/comfort, a fuck ton of emotions and (good) feelings — keeping it vague, don’t wanna spoil anything for y’all ☺️

series playlist ⋮ masterlist

sweetest thing - U2

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

“baby’s got blue skies up ahead / and in this I’m a rain cloud

you know we got a stormy kind of love / oh, oh, oh, the sweetest thing”

A/N: hi! the majority of part 5 was one of the very first parts I wrote for this fic, and I’m so excited to share this one with y’all, especially the lil surprise hidden within ☺️ thank you for the support and encouraging words on the last one!! I really hope y’all enjoy this part, bc we’re finally at the good stuff 🥹 (well. some of it. yeah, there’s a part 6 coming I’m sorry LMAO)

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Humans are naturally stubborn; it’s funny how the help and assistance a person might need could be right in front of them, but they shove it away, wanting to be independent and keep their pride intact. Steve’s discovering over time that Frankie is this exact type of stubborn, through and through.

Time has passed since Frankie opened up about her past, and her flare up waxes and wanes; just when it feels like her routine medications are helping, another symptom pops back up. Despite her father, and Steve, constantly suggesting to try intensive treatment, she’s stubborn and continues to refuse the help. And in a way, Steve gets it; the side effects as your body adjusts to a new medication or treatment isn’t exactly a walk in the park, but he hates seeing Frankie suffer. He hates that he can’t do much more than provide emotional comfort.

Steve persists, slipping the suggestion of treatment into conversation when possible, but it never goes anywhere. He promised her, he promised her father, though, that he’d do anything to keep her safe, so he plans on being a total pest about it until she at the very least considers.

Something finally breaks in mid-spring, when he expects her same, stubborn denial instead.

The sun’s warmth feels good, despite the way the abnormally hot day is causing his joints to heat up with inflammation. He pushes the ache and stiffness out of his mind, just happy to spend time with his friends on a good day, especially now that Dustin and Eddie moved to the city. The park is quiet, too, a perk of visiting in the late morning on a weekday.

“What’re you making?”

Frankie, wearing large sunglasses, grins up at Steve from her spot on an old quilt, holding out a chain of wildflowers she linked together. He can’t see the way her smile crinkles at the corners of her eyes as they usually do, but he knows her facial expressions well enough to envision them anyway.

“Flower crown! Want one?”

“Oh, I, uh—“

“If he doesn’t, I sure do.” Robin nudges Steve aside to sit on the edge of the blanket, sharing with Frankie. He scoffs, joining them on the quilt.

Steve glances around, then asks, “Where did the other knuckleheads go?”

Robin waves her hand with an eye roll, disinterested.

“Who knows, who cares.”

Frankie frowns dramatically, “I care.” Steve narrows his eyes playfully at her. “What? I wanna make everyone flower crowns. Didn’t know that was such a crime, Steven.”

Shaking his head, he chuckles, before glancing around to try spotting his friends.

“How the hell do you even make these?” Robin’s curiosity has her fixated on Frankie’s handiwork in real time. She pushes her sunglasses up onto her head before demonstrating.

“So you just…” She takes a hepatica with pastel pink petals, holding the stem gingerly in one hand, while the other holds a tiny pocket knife. She cautiously slices down the middle of the stem, just enough to create a tiny slit. “You could use your fingernails, too, but sometimes it’s easier to use a knife. Paper clips or safety pins work too!” Picking up a spring beauty, she slides its stem into the fresh opening on the hepatica’s stem. Holding it up, she grins at Robin. “Y’just repeat that ‘til it’s the length you want.”

A familiar warmth blooms within Steve while watching his two friends find joy in something so simple. Frankie just… fell into place with Steve’s friends easily. Like she belongs here among them, because she does belong with them.

Giving Robin the flower chain to finish on her own, Frankie grabs some dandelions she gathered earlier, and begins to start a new chain.

“‘Key, those are weeds.”

Though focused on her project, with her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth, squinting one eye closed— Everything she does is cute. What the fuck— she replies, “They’re wildflowers, Steve.” She slides one stem into another, then resumes slicing down another stem. “They’re important for the bees, and we kinda need bees to exist to live, y’know.”

He snorts, “So why are you taking their flowers, then?”

Frankie’s face drops, “Oh.” Steve thinks she’s playing along at first, even as her bottom lip wobbles comically. Once her eyes become glassy, and she sets her flower chain down, he’s backpedaling his teasing comment, hands shaking ‘no’ along with his head.

“No, no, I was kidding! I— you’re not— they’re fine, the bees are fine.”

Robin can’t hold back her laughter, and Steve glares at her. “I was laughing at you, dingus. Frankie’s got a point, bees are important.”

“Guys, it’s— I’m okay,” Frankie shrugs it off, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater; black eyeliner smudges along the knit, grey, sleeve. “Oh. Jesus I’m a mess.” She laughs, but the tears break anyway, and she can only imagine her face is smudged up, too. “M’sorry, this is all so stupid. I’m getting upset over everything lately.”

“It’s not stupid if you’re upset,” Robin points out with sincerity.

She only shakes her head, sliding her glasses back over her makeup stained eyes, “It’s all good, I know you— you were just kidding. Sorry ‘bout that.” She picks her project back up, hands trembling a little. “This whole flare up has me ridiculously emotional, but gimme five minutes and I’ll be fine.”

While Frankie keeps her focus to the flower chain she’s working on, Robin glances over at Steve, worried. They’ve been best friends for so long now, they can read each other’s faces with ease. He just nods subtly at her, and she pushes up off of the blanket.

“Is anyone else hungry? I’m gonna find those two goofballs, and maybe we can grab food somewhere?” Robin wanders off, not waiting for a response.

When she’s out of earshot, Frankie grumbles, “If she left so you can ask what’s wrong, I’m fine.” A flower’s stem is crushed between her fingers as they twitch involuntarily. “I know you mean well, but I really don’t want you to waste all your energy worrying about me.”

“‘Key… it’s not a waste.” Nothing’s ever a waste with you. “Please don’t shut me out.”

“What is there to talk about? I’m not shutting you out, Steve. It’s just the same shit, you don’t need to hear me cry about it all the time.” Her tone is frantic as her fingers won’t stop shaking, yet she won’t pause from connecting the flowers.

Steve doesn’t miss the way she bites her lip before it can pout, or how she’s staving off tears, features scrunching in frustration. “If it helps to talk about it more than once, I’m listening, and maybe if you started treatment again—“

“Drop it, stop trying to get me to go. I’m fine, just— everything hurts. A lot. Okay? See? Nothing different from what’s been happening since this all start— shit!”

Frankie drops her pocket knife, grabbing her own hand as a bead of crimson bubbles up along the pad of her thumb. She stares as a trickle of blood winds down her thumb, onto her palm. Steve quickly inches closer, about to reach for her hand, but she reels back.

Grabbing the edge of her black skirt, she blots the laceration, pressure included. “Why am I so fucking…”

Steve’s not tired of Frankie, nor is he tired of anything related to her health and this current flare up, but he is tired of this stubborn mindset she refuses to release. It’s difficult to be open with her about his bad health days when she won’t do the same in return, like they promised one another.

Rummaging through his bag, Steve pulls out a small pencil case, one he’s converted into a mini first-aid kit. He can’t remember when he made it, or if he’s ever gone without it since, but it’s useful for moments like this. Frankie notices, brows furrowing.

“Steve, m’fine—“

He ignores her weakened protest, one that sounds like a broken record at this point, grabbing her hand. It’s a firm grip, but nothing threatening, still tender somehow with its intentions. Cleaning her wound with a disinfectant wipe, she hisses at the sting.

“You don’t have to baby me.”

Again, Steve ignores her, trying to stay composed against her forced pride. He bandages the laceration, but doesn’t let go of Frankie.

“I don’t get why you’re pushing me away suddenly. Did…” Steve’s struggling to keep his emotions to himself, but they’ve been building for quite some time now. He can’t stand how his voice cracks as he asks, “Did I do something wrong?”

This isn’t about me. Stop. Stop it. Grow up.

Frankie wildly shakes her head, “No, absolutely not. I- I promise you’re fine.”

“What’s going on then? Look, if you need space, I can give you th—“

Her fingers, still trembling, tighten around his own. “Please don’t,” Her bottom lip quivers into a pout. “Can we talk later? When you come over? Just you and me.” She scrambles to elaborate, voice cracking, “I’m not ready to to talk about it with anyone else.”

“Okay, yeah,” He nods, squeezing her hand as his anxiety sinks like a stone in his stomach. “Whenever you’re comfortable.”

Reaching for the unfinished chain of flowers, Steve stops Frankie, moving the knife away before closing it.

“I was gonna finish it for you,” She’s desperate for a distraction, desperate to keep herself busy so her thoughts don’t eat her alive.

“Not after practically stabbing yourself, honey.”

Stop calling her that. You’re just friends.

With a huff and an eye roll, she wipes any remaining tears away before commanding, “Fine. Lay down.”

“Wh- what?”

She points to her thigh, unused flowers in her other hand. “You won’t let me finish your crown, and I need to keep busy.”

Steve immediately understands what she’s saying; he knows how fidgety she becomes when anxious and overthinks. Hesitantly, he lays back, head resting on her leg while glancing up at her, squinting from the sky’s bright reflection behind her.

One by one, Frankie takes each wildflower, sticking them in his hair. Her touch is soft, fingers carding through his hair between each flower; Steve can feel her relax, and he does the same.

A comfortable silence blankets them, one that neither dares to break.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

As Frankie and Steve’s lives intertwined, they both ended up with a copy of a key for one another’s apartments. They were originally only for medical emergencies if necessary after Steve’s big medical scare, and Frankie’s worst flare up yet; now those copies are used often to let themselves in for routine plans.

It’s Friday night, Dustin and Eddie started up Hellfire again at a local board game shop, and Robin works at a gay bar down the street on Fridays and Saturdays; Steve got tired of moping inside, alone on the weekends. What started as last minute plans for Frankie and Steve on a quiet Friday night turned into a weekly routine. They fell into a pattern of alternating between their places each time, and tonight’s plans were at Frankie’s apartment.

When Steve lets himself in with a couple movie tapes and a pizza, he’s met with Frankie running down the hall, groaning in frustration, pair of scissors in hand. Steve sets everything onto the coffee table in her living room, eyes locked on her frantic behavior.

“Whoa— didn’t anyone tell you running with scissors is dangerous?” He tries cracking a joke, but Frankie’s spiraling, consumed by her thoughts.

“Steve, I- I can’t fucking take it anymore.”

His eyes widen before he follows her down the hall and into the bathroom. She throws the pair of scissors into the sink, diving into the cabinet below before haphazardly throwing its contents onto the floor, in search of something.

“Talk to me, what’s going on?” He crouches down, resting a comforting hand on her back as her shoulders slink down. She pulls out a pair of clippers before letting herself relax under his touch.

“I feel so stupid getting upset over this,” She mutters, ducking her head into her knees as she folds forward on the floor. “Why does everything have to be so hard?”

Frankie shudders, suppressing the wave of tears that want to crash. Steve gently pulls her upward and into a hug, allowing her to collapse in his arms.

“Is it anything I can help with?”

She shakes her head, then pauses. “I mean, you have before, but I- I’m so— I can’t keep relying on others to help me all the time. I miss being independent.”

Steve knows how that feels, he knows what it’s like to feel as if you’re a burden to everyone around you, just because your health is out of your control. Realistically, it’s far from the truth, but when the world isn’t built to include disabled and chronically ill people, too, it’s hard to believe otherwise.

“Do you want advice, or comfort? Do you need space?” He’s learned asking this is better for the other person, rather than assuming and diving into unsolicited advice. Frankie trusts him, though, and would gladly listen to him anyway.

She’s quiet for a moment, pulling back to look Steve in the eye. His heart aches at the exhaustion in her eyes, the bags under them, carrying deep, dark circles; she hadn’t been sleeping well this week, and it was really catching up to her.

“I really needed to wash my hair, but it’s so much work,” Out of habit, she begins to fidget with the end of her braid, loosely wound and hanging over her shoulder; her fingers freeze after a second, glancing down at it nervously before pulling her hands away. “I kept dropping everything in the shower, and got dizzy from the heat and everything just— just—- it was overwhelming. I didn’t get to finish washing it, and I feel so gross.”

“Well, hey, I don’t mind washing it over the tub for you—“

“Steve, you’re a sweetheart, and I’m always grateful for your help, but you’re struggling, too. It’s not fair to expect you to help always.”

He remembers the scissors she threw into the sink, then glances to the clippers. “Were you gonna cut your hair?”

She looks down at her braid, pouting with a soft nod.

“But I kept chickening out,” She whispers, unable to look Steve in the eye again. “What if I look awful?”

Perplexed is Steve as he remembers the photos Frankie showed him from her high school days, just as cute in a pixie cut as she is with long hair now. “You’d have to really try your hardest to look awful.”

She scoffs out a laugh, “Kiss-ass.”

“I mean it, ‘Key,” Steve’s thumb and forefinger reach out to hold her chin, bringing her gaze back to him. “You could pull off anything.”

“You won’t think I’m ugly?” Steve’s face drops as the words hit his ears. “It’s just— I—“ She rolls her eyes at herself, “It’s only hair, why am I so upset?”

“I’d never think that, first of all. And second, my opinion on your looks is irrelevant. Fuck anyone’s opinion, honestly. You do what you want, Frankie. I’ll support whatever you decide.” Steve wishes she could see the natural beauty she radiates, from the inside out. Self esteem issues are different when you’re in constant pain. Everything can be attached to how you feel, and it’s easy to tumble down the slippery slope of self loathing when your body works against you, from the inside out.

Steve continues, “And it’s a big change, it’s understandable to be upset while you decide. Maybe it’s good to sleep on it, think it over. If you still want to tomorrow, then go for it.”

Frankie’s eyes gloss over, pout trembling. “I still gotta wash it, though… and if I cut it, it seems silly to wash it all, then let that effort to go to waste.”

Steve shrugs, like the answer is obvious. “Told you, I’ll help.”

Minutes later, after returning everything back where it belongs, Frankie’s leaning her head back over the tub, with plenty of towels under her neck to make it a tad comfier. Steve’s gently scrubbing shampoo along her roots when he notices a small bald spot. Then another… And another.

“‘Key… why didn’t you tell me you were losing hair?” It was hard for him to see before, with how thick her hair naturally is, but it’s enough to alarm him now that its visible. He remembers the clippers she pulled out of the cabinet. “Wait, you’re gonna shave your hair off? All of it?”

She only nods blankly. “I don’t know what else to do, Steve. This hasn’t happened in years.” As she speaks, stray strands come out in tiny clumps here and there. “Not since that awful flare up I told you about.”

Steve doesn’t make a scene, just continues washing her hair with cautious, gentle hands.

“Well,” His glasses slide down his nose a little too far, but he can’t fix them with his hands all sudsy; he’s trying so hard to be better about wearing them more often. She notices, reaching up to gently push them back up the bridge of his nose. He chuckles softly. “Thanks.”

“You were saying?”

Steve’s silent for a moment, catching up to his thoughts again. “Oh, right. I was gonna say, just go for it. Sure, it suits you, a- and I like braiding it for you,” He blushes slightly. “But y’know how badass you’ll look? And how fun it’ll be rubbing your fuzzball head?”

“As long as your hands are still on me,” Frankie teases, but realizes a moment too late how it sounds. Steve can’t catch the snort leaving him in time, while Frankie’s eyes grow wide, mortified. “Oh— no, wait, not like— jesus— I don’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. That was gross.”

“Francesca, we’re having a moment, and you go and ruin it with your mind in the gutter,” Steve cracks back, earning an eye roll while a smile cracks across her face.

Settling into a comfortable silence, Frankie breaks it, “You think I should just… get it done and over with?”

Steve pretends to ponder as he rinses the suds from her hair; a few more tiny bundles of hair flow towards the drain, but he keeps his cool, for her sake. Deep down, he’s worried, but he doesn’t want to upset her any further.

“I think… you should do whatever feels right, but—“ He slowly lifts her head, gingerly scrunching the towel around her hair to sop up the water. “I also think you’ll feel a little better if you eat something first. Pizza break?”

Her eyes grow wide as she laughs, embarrassed, “Oh my god, I forgot, I’m so sorry! My dumb hair can wait.”

Once the pizza is reheated and they’re settled on the couch, they play one of the movies for background noise. Frankie pipes up, “Hey, Steve?”

He’s mid bite, hitting a blob of cheese that’s way too hot, burning the roof of his mouth, wincing at the sting. “Ow, hothothot—-“ Rather than spiting it out, he swallows the scorching hot food, frowning comically as it burns down his throat.

“Oh— that’s,” Frankie’s trying her best to keep a straight face; she’s concerned, but he brought it on himself. She shoves his iced tea towards him, which he gratefully takes and gulps down. “Steve, you gotta have like, second degree burns in your throat at this point. You always do that.”

“And I’ll do it again next week, too,” He quips before shrugging. “What were you gonna say?”

“Hm? Oh. I- I just wanted to say thank you, for earlier. With everything.” She’s normally not shy like this, especially this far into the friendship with Steve, even with the flirting. But the vulnerability is more than she’s comfortable with, and he can tell. “And I’m sorry for putting you on the spot like that.”

“Like what?”

“Asking if I’d look bad. I swear I wasn’t fishing for a compliment—“

He sets his plate aside, intending to reach out for her face like earlier, but he remembers the pizza grease on his fingers still, and decides against it.

“You didn’t put me on the spot, or anything like that. I’d be upset too if I was losing hair. Maybe not as much as my high school self but— that- okay, that doesn’t matter here. Point is, you’re allowed to be upset, ‘Key, but also I meant it when I said you’d look badass. Like, Tank Girl badass.”

“Surprised you even know who Tank Girl is,” She teases, but gifts him her signature, warm smile. “Thanks, Steve. I owe you for all of this, big time.”

“You owe me nothing,” Steve sincerely replies, then remembers, “Well, you do owe me that mixtape you’ve been hyping up for months.”

Her hand covers her mouth after taking a bite of her pizza, trying not to respond with her mouth full. She holds the other hand up in a ‘One minute!’ gesture, before leaving the couch. She’s only gone for a moment, returning with a cassette tape, handing it over to Steve.

The tape is wrapped in old newspaper, with holographic stickers slapped all over it, donning her shaky, but sweet handwriting on a tag that says “For Steve”.

He feels a warmth wash over his face, blushing and unable to hold back a smile.

“Can I play it now?”

“No!” Her own exclamation takes her by surprise, sheepishly adding. She laughs it off and waves her hand. “I- I mean, just… wait ‘til you’re on your way home, at least.”

Steve doesn’t push it, doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable; he gets it, sometimes there’s something awkward about gifting something to someone, and watching them open it in real time. He just makes a point to throw it in his messenger bag, tucked into a safe pocket inside.

“Thanks, Frankie.” He smiles warmly at her, earning a rise of rosiness to her cheeks. “I’m excited to listen to it.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The pair of scissors are open wide, caging in Frankie’s messy braid. Her hand shakes, and Steve watches as she frowns, shaking her head before throwing the scissors into the sink.

“I can’t do it.” She looks at Steve behind her through the mirror. “I need to, but once it’s gone…”

“Yeah, but it can always—“

“Steve, don’t tell me it’ll grow back. If it even does grow back, it’ll be all patchy and uneven.” She pushes herself to ask, cheeks growing red, “Last thing I’ll ask help with, I promise, but can— would you do it for me?”

His features falter, unsure. “I don’t mind helping, really, I don’t—”

“But?”

He sighs, “This is so personal for you, I really think you should be the one to do it. At least cutting the length off.” As Frankie fidgets with the ends of her braid, ignoring the strands of hair coming loose between her fingertips, an idea hits Steve. “I can help, though.”

Before she can ask what he means, Steve comes up behind Frankie, gently turning her toward the mirror again before reaching for the scissors. He hands them over to her, and hesitantly, she takes them, fingers gripping through the handles. What she doesn’t expect is his hand to slide over hers, mirroring the position.

“This okay?” He can feel her hand shake underneath his, but he assumes it’s from her tremors.

It’s not.

“Um— uh-huh,” She manages to rasp out; why this has her so flustered when he helped her wash her hair earlier makes no sense to her.

Steve guides her hand holding the scissors to the braid, starting just above the hair tie at the end.

“We can start slow, okay?”

“Okay,” She takes a deep breath, clamping her eyes shut. Steve chuckles softly.

“‘Key, it’s not safe to use scissors with your eyes shut.”

Her eyes snap open, narrowing into slits at him into the mirror, lips parting to shoot a smart-ass comment, but she forgets it immediately. With a scoff, she mutters, “Fucking brain fog.”

Steve can’t help laughing, burying his face into the top of her head. “M’sorry, I was bracing myself for the worst, didn’t expect that.”

His laugh is contagious to her, and she giggles along with an eye roll. “Yeah, neither was I. Guess you’ve been spared.” He settles down, but she can’t.

“Francesca.” He tries being stern, but the corners of his lips curl upward. “Get it together.”

“Okay, okay!” She takes a few deep breaths. “You gotta stop using my full name like that.”

“Why? Is it bugging you? I can stop.” Steve’s face falls a little, but she looks away from his gaze in the reflection.

“No, I’m gonna end up liking it with the way you say it,” She grumbles, not mad, but embarrassed. She misses the way Steve’s cheeks turn a rosy pink. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Okay.” He’s so close, she’s trying to ignore how his chest feels so warm against her back, focusing on moving her hand with his to close the blades together slowly. It’s a slow snip through her hair; despite losing it, it’s still thick enough to take a bit to get through.

Frankie’s eyes follow the chunk of hair as it tumbles to the floor.

“Okay… alright, that wasn’t so bad. B- but don’t let go yet.” She breathes, finally locking eyes with Steve in the mirror. “Please.”

“It’s okay, I got you.”

Moving the scissors up her braid, she stops his hand where her shoulder begins.

“Ready?” He asks, and she nods. Again, they cut through her hair together. More falls to the floor, leaving Frankie with shoulder length hair.

“God… I can’t remember the last time my hair was this short.”

“You wanna stop here?”

“One more time?” She lifts her hand, palm facing down, using the side as she taps the side of her head above her ear. With a nod, he’s about to move their hands together when he hesitates, brows scrunching together as he thinks. “Steve, you okay?”

“Might be easier like— here, hold these—“ Frankie takes the scissors from Steve before he grabs a spare hair tie from the counter, pulling what’s left of her hair back. “Maybe even’s the right word, not easier. My bad… Can you reach back here?” He splits the ponytail, gently tugging the ends to tighten the hair tie.

She shrugs, arms still aching from her attempt at washing her hair earlier. Steve is about to take the scissors back, but her grip tightens. Again, she shakes her head.

“Gonna push through it,” She mutters, stepping away from Steve to keep the scissors at a safe distance. She lifts her arms back, one to hold the ponytail out, the other with the scissors.

Her hands shake, and this time, it’s the tremors; they won’t quit, and Steve being Steve, he immediately wants to help, but hesitates. Just like the day he met her. He knows how frustrating it can be when someone jumps in to help, assuming just because you’re not able-bodied, you can’t do anything on your own.

She waits, holding her hands back for a few seconds, then pulling them back in front of her. “I can’t. I’m gonna end up bald and missing fingers,” She tries to laugh it off, but she’s visibly upset. The need to ask for assistance is barricaded off by her pride.

Steve knows Frankie well enough by now to tell what she’s thinking; he reaches around her for the scissors, gingerly pulling them from her grip. He does his best to pay no mind to the close proximity, but he does notice the way Frankie gets goosebumps when his breath hits her neck.

That means nothing, quit overthinking it.

“Ready?”

She nods, “Mhm—“

“‘Key, keep your damn head still,” He uses his free hand to grasp the back of her head, laughing as he splays his palm open, fingers wide as he easily steadies her. “Little miss bobble-head.”

She stifles a laugh, nodding with a deep breath. “Okay. Go for it.”

Steve moves swiftly, before either of them fall into a fit of giggles once more; with a quick snip, Frankie’s small ponytail is gone. She’s left with an uneven, disheveled haircut, shaking her head to get the loose hairs out.

“I dunno, Steve, I think we’re done. Looks totally presentable.” Her eyes lock with his in the mirror for what feels like the millionth time that night; the two of them splitting into a fit of laughter all over again.

“Yeah, Frankie, you’re— …” He loses his teasing remark in an instant; even with her hair unkempt among the patchy bald spots, even with fatigue weighing heavy on her features, her smile and personality peek through with ease. She’s beautiful, always, from the inside out, and he’s positively fucked.

“I’m… ?”

“Nothin’.” Steve nods over to the clippers on the sink. He clears his throat, hoping the warmth blooming across his face isn’t noticeable; it’s not just noticeable, it’s hard to miss. “You need help with that part?”

Frankie gives him a skeptical look before grabbing the clippers, plugging them in to the nearby outlet. “Might need your help with the back, if that’s okay. Otherwise… can’t really fuck this part up, right?”

Steve breathily laughs with a nod, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. “Right.”

Shaking out her nerves— literally, looking like a wacky inflatable arm man— she laughs off the doubts, flipping the switch. She holds the clippers in front of her face, nearly going cross eyed— Jesus, she’s cute, Steve thinks with a faint smile; holding it up to her hairline, she stares at herself in the mirror while pushing the clippers right down the middle of her head.

“Can’t go back if I make myself look like a fool, can I?” She laughs, muttering to herself, but Steve still catches it.

He watches as she stays focused, running the clippers through more hair; with each glide of the device along her scalp, her breath grows shallow, short. Steve anticipates the panic to start, but it never comes; a tear slips, then another, trailing through the little loose hairs scattered across her face, but she’s not upset. It’s a huge change, and Steve expected this to be emotional, but he doesn’t expect her lips to curl upward, ever so slightly.

A good chunk of Frankie’s hair is buzzed down on the left side, and she continues on, releasing a shaky, breathy laugh. “Holy shit.”

“How do you feel?” He asks over the monotone buzzing, filling the room.

“Like a damn mess, but… good.”

He’s not thinking when a soft, “Atta girl” slips out; the simple praise turns Frankie’s face a cherry red.

“Can’t say shit like that to me,” She murmurs, working on shaving another stripe down her head. Steve’s left with scrambling thoughts, wondering if she means what he thinks she means.

Boldly, he’s about to ask why, but her hand begins to shake. Steve steps in, about to grab the clippers, but pauses. He doesn’t want to overstep boundaries, or make her feel helpless, because she’s not.

As if she can read his mind, she tells him, “It’s okay, Stevie. I trust you.”

Steve takes over, gliding the clippers along the spots Frankie couldn’t reach earlier. Though he’s a little faster than she was, he still takes his time, checking in with her every so often to make sure she’s doing alright. First time she tries to nod, but Steve gives a playful glare through the mirror, and she laughs, until his fingers grip the back of her head, this time closer to her neck. The smile on her face drops, and the blush returns.

Under his fingers, Steve feels her shiver, but doesn’t visibly react, just continues to run over her prickly scalp, making sure the buzzed down hair is completely even. When he flicks the power off, and the buzzing halts, Frankie reaches up to her head, rubbing along the freshly buzzed skin. It’s prickly and textured, and some spots where patches once lay are still a little noticeable, but it’s not bothersome anymore. She can finally gain some peace now that she won’t have to try hiding hair loss anymore.

“See? Told ya’,” Steve smiles warmly at her, gently brushing off the stray baby hairs from her shoulders. He leans closer to her ear, causing her breath to hitch. “You definitely look like a badass.” She playfully pushes her shoulder back into him with an eye roll.

Finally, she turns around, leaning against the sink, glancing up at Steve, face to face.

“Thank you, Steve.” She presses up on the balls of her feet to swing her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. Steve blushes— because that’s all they seem to be able to do over one another tonight. His arm curls around her waist, hand pressed against the small of her back, while the other reaches to cradle the back of her head.

“Don’t thank me, you did the hardest part.”

“What, crying?” She makes fun of herself with a giggle.

“No, you were brave to take care of yourself, even if it was hard and the last thing you wanted to do.”

“Steve, don’t you dare start with the sappy shit,” She warns, but he can hear the smile in her voice. She doesn’t let go, and he doesn’t want to. Despite constantly joking how cold she gets, Steve notices how warm her embrace is.

“How do you have a perfectly shaped head?” Steve murmurs, running his large hand over Frankie’s now freshly shaved scalp. She giggles as the sensation of his fingers so close to her skin, it feels so foreign.

“What?” She pulls back, smiling, and he has to suppress the reaction to frown over the loss of her arms around him.

“Yeah, like, c’mere,” He gently pulls her hand, resting it at the back of his head, slowly guiding it along his own scalp. The pads of her fingers ghost over some uneven dips and bumps on the back of his head. “Feel that?”

Frankie giggles some more, “Steve, were you dropped as a kid or something?” He’s fine with the teasing, the two of them do this often to one another. But when she reaches further up out of curiosity, her fingers graze a scar, thick and rugged along his scalp. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Startled, she goes to pull away, but her fingers get tangled in his hair, accidentally pulling a little too hard.

Steve whimpers, eyes darting away, and Frankie freezes while her gaze grows wide, glued to him.

The tension settling in the air around them is suffocating; one of those “you could hear a pin drop” kind of moments. It’s only a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity to Steve.

“I- uh—“ He clears his throat, eyes darting away, then back to her, instantly turning bright red. “S- sorry.”

Rather than shrug it off, or politely accept the apology, Frankie says with a small glint in her eye, “Good to know.” She leaves Steve in the bathroom, all alone and flustered. He sighs, louder than he means to.

“Whose mind is in the gutter now?” She sing-songs from the end of the hall. She’s only gone for a moment before returning with a vacuum cleaner, biting her lip to hold back her laugh as she finds Steve rubbing his eyes with his fingers, hand sliding under his glasses. “M’gonna clean this up quick and shower… again.” She rolls her eyes at herself.

Steve nods, exiting the bathroom as her voice follows, “Pick the next movie, I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Do you want he—“ He cringes at himself, catching his words a bit too late as he realizes how they sound.

“Do I want your help? In the shower?” Frankie smirks while she plugs the vacuum in; that look she gives is going to be the death of him. “Gonna have to find a more clever line than that if you wanna see me naked.”

“Wh— that’s not—“ Steve sputters, feeling his entire body burn up under her gaze. “I wasn’t saying it like that, I swear!”

Frankie flips the vacuum on, cupping her ear towards him comically, shrugging like she can’t hear him. She shouts over the noise, “What was that?”

Steve rolls his eyes with a dramatic sigh, flipping her off playfully before heading down the hallway. Right as he’s about to be out of earshot, he hears a muffled, “Maybe later, if you’re lucky!”

He thinks of everything, anything that isn’t Frankie; he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, shoving his glasses onto his head. The sound of running water floats down the hall, and Steve takes the opportunity to sigh his frustration out. Flopping into the couch’s cushions, he’s trying to think of anything to stop the rush of blood and heat ready to run south.

Currently, there’s no room in Steve’s mind for anything else other than Frankie.

I’m so, so fucked.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Steve should’ve stayed.

He wanted to. He really, really wanted to stay at Frankie’s— it’s not uncommon for one to crash at the other’s place on movie nights— but, in Frankie’s terms, he “couldn’t get his mind out of the gutter”— There was just no way he could stay without embarrassing himself. Making up some excuse Frankie saw right through about needing to get home, reluctantly, he left.

Frankie is his friend, he can’t ruin what they have with his desires. But he’s torn, because it’s more than just fleeting lust, he likes her. Really, really likes her.

Sometimes, Steve wishes he could say he hates how easily their bodies meshed together, how casual it was to cuddle with one another, fall asleep in one another’s arms. That he hates how cute Frankie looks when she drools a little in her sleep. Or that he hates the sweet balance she carries between positivity and realism— always leaving room for the bright side and reality’s facts. He wants to hate both her gentle and sharp laughs, the off-key way she sings softly to herself while keeping busy; her self confidence, the warmth in her smile that always reaches her eyes, despite their cool grey tones—

He’s lying to himself. He could never find himself actually wanting to dislike Frankie in the slightest. There’s not a damn thing about her that bothers him.

Nothing, except for the fact that to Steve, she’s perfect in the way she embraces her imperfections, her quirks, her flaws, her strengths— it’s all only drawing him into her more and more as time carries on. Frankie is perfect as a friend alone, and that’s just something he can’t afford to put on the line for the sake of his feelings. Feelings that are most likely one sided.

Even after the comments about a date made months ago, on the precipice of slumber, Steve still can’t tell if Frankie was joking or not. Or if she called him “babe” after a nightmare just to be nice. Same with the innocent kiss left on the top of his head. He’s completely puzzled, left to wonder if he’s overthinking it all, or if the signs are really there.

Tonight didn’t make any of this easier to untangle and make sense of, either.

Feeling fine enough to walk home and enjoy the warm night, Steve skips jumping on public transit; maybe the fresh air would do him some good, clear his head. When he reaches in his bag for his Walkman, his hand brushes against a cassette case— the mixtape Frankie made for him.

Avidly, he tears the upcycled wrapping paper off, admiring the mixtape’s DIY cover art.

With a clumsy grip, he nearly drops the case, catching it in time to glance over the cover she made, resembling the punk show flyers tacked on her bedroom walls; the style’s true to her character. Eager to listen, he pops the tape into his player for his return trip.

What he doesn’t expect is to hear Frankie’s voice flood through his headphones.

“I know what you’re thinking, ‘this girl cannot shut the fuck up, huh?’” Her laugh instantly graces a smile across Steve’s face, shuffling his feet along the concrete as they carry him home. “I swear, there’s music on this tape, but I wanted to say something first.” Steve’s brows knit together, listening carefully. “I promised you months ago I’d make a mixtape of mostly songs and bands you haven’t heard yet, but some are gonna be familiar to you. That’s … intentional.”

There’s a soft hum of static, filling in a short gap of silence.

“I kept putting this off, ‘cause I got this idea shortly after your hospital trip, but I was too much of a scaredy cat to go for it. Felt too soon.”

“What felt too soon?” Steve mutters to himself, as if she can hear him.

“You’ll pick up on it, I know you will. You always amaze me with the details you notice that no one else does.” Frankie sighs, does one of the countless things Steve finds cute about her; she blows air through her lips, making ‘pbbbbbtttt’ sounds, like when she’s stuck on her own thoughts. “It’s been hard trying to tell you this myself, so… m’gonna let the music do the talking for me. Just do two things for me, please?”

He braces himself, because what on earth would Frankie be so afraid to tell him in person? What would she need to hide behind a tape for?

“Listen the entire way through, and when you’re done,” She takes a deep breath, letting out a nervous giggle. “If we’re not on the same page, and I’m just some delusional freak, promise me we’ll still be friends?”

Steve stops dead in his tracks, breath caught in the back of his throat. Is she—

There’s a harsh click, abruptly rushing in an unfamiliar song after her intro. His eyes bounce around his surroundings in a hurry, landing on a bench a few feet away. Once Steve’s settled on it, he flips the case over, looking for a tracklist—

It’s not a complete tracklist. Just a list of the artists in chronological order.

“‘Key, are you kidding me?” Steve grumbles to himself, shaking his head while a smile’s curling along his lips.

A lyric from a Dinosaur Jr. song catches his attention, stretching his smile into a grin.

“The weirdness flows between us / Anyone can tell to see us”

Scribbled on the bottom of the list is her scratchy handwriting:

You’ll get the titles later!

-Frankie ♡

Steve’s hopes begin to rise, but he forces himself to squash them immediately. There’s no way, there’s no fucking way this is what I think it is. I’m just thinking too far into it.

Three minutes into the next song, by my bloody valentine, Steve’s still on the bench.

How long is this one? Jesus Christ.

It’s not bad, but he can’t make out the words, and god, it feels like this one’s going to last forever. Silently, he’s cursing Frankie for adding this to the mix. Maybe this song would be great to listen to while stoned out of his mind on the floor, but not right now, not when he’s antsy to figure out exactly what this tape’s all about. He’ll have to ask her for the lyrics later.

Track #3 by Fugazi is good, and the lyrics are a gut punch from the start.

“I am a patient boy / I wait, I wait, I wait, I wait / My time, water down a drain / Everybody’s moving / Everybody’s moving / Everybody’s moving, moving, moving, moving / Please don’t leave me to remain / In the waiting room—“

Steve loses track of the words from there; he’s never been the best at keeping up with the fast paces of some punk songs, but he gets the point.

Track #4— a Kate Bush song— is one he’s heard before, courtesy of Max always playing Kate Bush’s discography, even after surviving Vecna’s torture. He can’t remember the name, but he remembers it’s off the album The Dreaming, and the lyric “We let the weirdness in” has him curious as to why Frankie chose this song, wondering why it’s another song leaning into the word ‘weird’.

All pondering halts when he immediately recognizes the Bruce Springsteen song— Crush on You. His breath hitches in his throat while the familiar song from The River plays on. The lyrics and title are self explanatory.

… Maybe I’m not overthinking it.

He’s unsure when he began walking again, but he’s already halfway home when he realizes it. The trip by foot on a good pain day is 10-15 minutes, but at the pace he’s speed walking, he can easily make it home in 5.

The next three songs by Jawbreaker, Green Day, and X are songs he’s never heard before, but recognizes the style of each band from the times Frankie plays her own mixtapes in the store.

The repetition of “I want you” over and over in the Jawbreaker song begins to fizzle out his doubts. The entirety of the song by Green Day is even more obvious, but “I know that we’re only friends / I hope this feeling never ends / If I could only hold you / it’s the only thing I want to do” makes his heart jump.

“Holy shit,” He’s frozen on the stairway to his floor as the words float into his ears. “… She likes me.”

She feels the same. Frankie feels the same.

It’s the opening lyrics of the X song that cause the last of his doubts disappear, rushing down the hallway to his apartment.

“Now if you love me, please don’t tease / If I can hold you then let me squeeze / My heart goes ‘round and ‘round / My love comes a-tumblin’ down.”

Steve promised he’d call Frankie once he made it home safe— they do this every time one leaves the other. Now all he can think about is of is calling her to confess his feelings instead. He’s fumbling with his keys, dropping them a couple times, and bangs his head on the door when he tries to pick them up; the door swings open, with Robin glancing down at him, a brow quirking over his frantic demeanor.

“I thought someone was trying to politely break in,” She cracks while moving aside for him to come in. Steve begins pacing in circles as he tugs his headphones off, staring at Robin, stunned. “Whoa, dude, what happened? You good?”

It barely comes off as a whisper, rushed out like a dream that’ll disappear the more he focuses on it. “Shelikesmeback.”

“Who— what— I’m too tired to decipher what you just—“

From the position his headphones are around his neck, he faintly makes out opening notes of Sweetest Thing by U2. A bright smile appears among his features, despite the love song’s bittersweet, realistic meaning; it’s one Frankie always teases him for enjoying.

Holy. Shit.

“She likes me, Robin. Frankie likes me.” Saying it out loud, to someone other than himself, sounds far too good to be true. Despite how surreal it feels to figure this out, he can’t suppress his still-growing grin.

“I told you!” She grins, already antsy for details. “So, what happened?”

“She gave me—“

“How’d you find out?”

Steve huffs, still winded from the run home, but also annoyed, “Because, she gave me a mix—“

“And why are you here?”

“Jesus Christ, Robin, let me answer one of those at least.”

“Okay, okay, sorry!” She rolls her wrist, hand circling in a “let’s go” gesture, as if she’s not the reason for the hold up.

Scrambling for the tape’s case, he holds it up to her, hand shaking from a flurry of emotions. “The— she made me a mixtape, a- and she said she’s using the music to tell me how she feels, ‘cause she’s too scared to tell me herself.”

“That’s actually really sweet,” Not a hint of sarcasm can be found in Robin’s words, but her face crinkles in confusion. “But you never answered my last question— you were just with her. Why aren’t you doing something about this?” She gives him a “duh” look and gestures her hands out, exasperated as he stands there, lost. “Steve, I swear if you don’t finally tell her how you feel—“

Now it hits him. “Oh my god… why did I— I have to— I’m such an idiot.” Eyes wide and jaw slack, he takes a moment to breathe deeply and collects his thoughts. He pulls her into a bear hug, one that takes her by surprise, leaving her in confused laughter. “Robin, you’re the best wing-woman ever.”

As Steve rushes out the door, she shouts, “I did the bare minimum, but I’ll still take the award!”

Eddie opens the door across the hall from theirs, poking his head out along with Dustin. Steve’s already out of sight when Dustin asks, “What the hell is going on?” Eddie’s head snaps down the hall, then back to Robin with a quirked brow, expecting an explanation.

“Hang on, I’m getting popcorn, ‘cause we’re gonna gossip like nosy grandmas,” Robin snickers.

Steve’s already rushing down the stairs, unaware of the conversation he’s left behind, yet still a part of.

The following song on the mixtape has a familiar style— it’s Strawberry Switchblade, he recognizes the poppy goth style, giving Steve a boost in his step and energy to retrace his steps. The instrumentals are so upbeat, and the lyrics are cute, sweet, like Frankie. She’s played them in the shop before, but he’s unsure if this song ever came on through the stereo’s speakers.

“In a kiss lies so much more than touch / And my life has found a new temptation / And ecstasy has meaning once again”

Wait—

This is the song she was singing along to the day Steve found her dancing while sweeping around the shop. Before he startled the living daylights out of her, accidentally ruining her moment of solitude. It makes him chuckle to think of that memory; that entire day— aside from her pain, pushing it aside with her pride— was so good to them both.

Exerting himself to run back will cost him for the rest of the week; his reward will be multiple high pain days, but Steve doesn’t care. All that matters is getting back to Frankie, finally confessing feelings he always believed were one sided.

“I find suddenly I'm closer to you / And I find all my wildest dreams / Have come true / While I spin round / My heart is beating for two / And I am wishing / It will always be you and I / You and I”

Winded already, Steve slows down, trying to pace himself and keep his heart from beating out of his chest.

Just a few more blocks. A few more, and I can tell her I feel the same, hold her, hopefully kiss her, finally.

That alone is enough to carry him the rest of the way, though he almost runs into the street without looking, until a car honks at him, yanking him away from his thoughts. He holds his hands up apologetically, cringing as the car speeds off.

Man, try not to die before you can tell Frankie how you feel.

Lovesong by The Cure is the next track, one Steve knows well. He doesn’t know many songs by The Cure, but he likes this one; warmth is blooming throughout his body over the clarity and certainty of Frankie’s feelings through the lyrics.

“Whenever I'm alone with you / You make me feel like I am home again / Whenever I'm alone with you / You make me feel like I am whole again”

If Steve was honest, he hasn’t felt completely at home since leaving Hawkins; the closest he’s felt to that has been with his friends, and now, with Frankie. She puts him at ease, reassures him that he’s safe and at home in his own skin.

Home and safety are two things he’s longed for, even while living in Hawkins. His home— his parents’ house— that never felt like a home. Not unless the party filled its empty shell.

The rest of the way back blurs by, body on auto pilot as he finally catches her apartment up ahead.

He’s practically running down the hallway, tugging his headphones off his ears, while he’s too wrapped up in the moment to stop the tape; Dolly Parton’s voice faintly sings on as Frankie’s apartment door comes into view.

“Say goodnight while there's still a star to wish on / Say goodnight while the moon is still in your eyes / Let me touch your smile and hold you for awhile / Then say goodnight, but never say goodbye”

Steve pumps the brakes, hesitating as he reaches the door; they welcome themselves into one another’s apartments all the time now. But this feels different, this is different, and what if he intrudes at a bad time? What if she’s asleep already?

Ignoring his worries tumbling like an avalanche, his hand shoots out for the doorknob, spare key at the ready, but he hovers above it. He can’t bring himself to unlock it, can’t pinpoint a clear reason against the second nature behavior.

Oh, fuck it.

He knocks rapidly, then regrets it in an instant. Chest still heaving, he tries settling down, calming his breaths before she can open the door.

I should just go in, I have a key, and knocking this late might startle her, and that would fucking suck, totally ruin the moment when I’m trying to tell her I feel the same—

The door creaks open, with a sleepy Frankie poking her head out; her freshly shaved head is covered by Steve’s hoodie, one he left behind weeks ago that she refuses to return.

“… Steve?” She smiles, a little confused seeing him again; she rubs one of her eyes, hand covered by the sleeve, opening the door some more with the other— Christ, she’s fucking cute just by existing— “What’d you forget this time?”

Steve’s heartbeat is in his throat, blanking out as he locks his gaze with hers.

“I…”

Don’t freeze up now, say something!

“You…” Her smile falters a little, noticing how winded he still is. Opening the door wider, she steps closer to him, hand reaching for his arm as she leans out of the doorway. “Hey, are you okay?” Gently, she pulls him inside, softly shutting the door behind them.

Dolly’s voice floats out of his headphones, breaking the daze he began to fall in.

“Oh, it's easy now to tell you how I'm dreaming about tomorrow / Because you'll be there to share that dream with me / But now it's time to close your eyes, put this night away / And keep it safe, a perfect memory”

Where it was hiding all this time, Steve’s unsure, but a flicker of confidence sparks within him, ignites him to make a move.

“D—“ He has to clear his throat, still catching his breath from running. “Didn’t get to say goodnight the way I’ve always wanted to.” Frankie’s too tired to catch on, not until Steve carefully backs her against the door, leaving little room between them.

While the last song plays out of his headphones, slung around his neck, he’s grabbing her by the waist with one hand, and the other cradles the side of her face; gently making its way to mold along the side of her neck, thumb ghosting along her jawline. She gasps softly as the two gravitate toward one another, foreheads pressed together, noses nudging against one another—

The dim apartment, the sounds of the city, the entire world begins to melt away for Steve; it’s just the two of them, bodies and hearts meeting the way he’s dreamed of for months now.

Lips tenderly colliding, it’s soft and sweet, affectionate smiles causing the two to giggle into the kiss. Frankie loosely grips the front of his shirt between her fingers, tugging him closer as her hands eventually slide up his chest, arms slinking around his shoulders.

It’s a cinematic, magical moment, if the lead roles were two disabled friends to lovers, anything but what mainstream romance films depict. No, this is real. It’s real, because Steve can tell the difference between Frankie’s usual tremors, and the way she’s trembling right now with excitement. It’s real, and he’s able to let the ever-growing ache in his body fall away, while his focus fixates on Frankie only.

This is the truest form of affection Steve has ever felt for and with anyone, ever— and it’s real.

He takes one step back abruptly, still holding onto her as an avalanche of overthinking begins to tumble. “I shouldn’t have left earlier. Did I wake you up? I was gonna just let myself in, but then I panicked, and then I felt bad for knocking, ‘cause you were totally asleep, and I know you’re gonna be too nice to tell me—“

“Steve,” She breathes that same reassuring, smile-ridden, acknowledgement, and like every time before, he’s at ease. “I’m glad you left earlier— wait, no, hold on, that sounds mean—“

Steve starts laughing as her face turns red.

“If you didn’t leave, you wouldn’t have listened to the tape!” She backs up a bit, hands falling to her hips as she tries to elaborate.

“Hm, I dunno,” His hand reaches out for hers, pulling it out of the sassy pose to tug her closer; she stays put, stance locked to the floor. “I would’ve snuck a listen if you fell asleep.”

“Oh, for— You know what I mean, Harrington!” She tries to come off pissed, but bursts into giggles right along with him. Sticking her tongue out, she flips him off while he catches a glimpse of her tongue piercing, jaw slack as he’s blushing like he did the first time all over again. Frankie smirks, aware of what he’s really looking at. “You wanna know what it feels like, don’t you?”

Steve nods with a strained, groaning reply, almost in a trance “I- yeah, I gotta know.” Her smile scrunches up her features as he leans back in; a nervous laugh slips out of him while his lips brush against hers, but once they meld together, everything feels so natural, so right.

The last time anything felt right to Steve was… god only knows when. He’s lost in his thoughts until Frankie’s lips part, slotting against his with ease. She boldly runs her tongue along his bottom lip, smirking as Steve makes a soft, airy whimper into her mouth. His knees feel weak as her tongue brushes against his, the stainless steel piercing giving a new sensation he’s never experienced in any kiss before this. Who knew a little piece of metal could make a kiss so dizzying?

It ends as quickly as it begins, with Frankie pulling back in giggles against Steve’s lips while a groan slips from him. “Holy shit…”

“Would’ve kissed you way sooner if I knew this silly piercing would make you weak at the knees.”

Playfully, Steve rolls his eyes, with a scoff to match. “Oh, like you didn’t have to use a mixtape to tell me how you feel.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She scrunches her face. “So… you’re staying, right?” At first, Steve thinks it’s a question backed by desire, but she cracks, “‘Cause you look like you’re about to pass out.” She squeaks out a laugh as he pulls her off the door.

“Shut up, ‘Key,” His lips are back on hers, initiating a deeper kiss; Frankie hums, and the vibrations against his own lips drives him wild.

“Can we, uh—“ He’s a breathy mess, gaze falling to her lips, then finding her eyes again. Fatigue is creeping up on him, and though he wants to stay up all night with her, he knows they both need the sleep. Coherent, full sentences are lost on him as he only asks, “Bed?”

Frankie’s brows shoot up, tugging a teasing smirk along her face. “Oh? Damn, didn’t know you moved that fast.”

“No, wait— not— that’s not what I meant!” He’s flustered, shaking his head wildly. Frankie’s amusement only grows. “I- I- I don’t— god, that made me sound like such a dick—“

“Steve.” That’ll never get old, the way they both stop one another’s ramblings with a breath of the other’s name, followed by a comforting, tiny smile. “I’m only kidding. You’ve gotta be exhausted from running back, huh?”

He exhales relief, nodding. Even drained, he smiles at her tiredly, “So worth it though.”

“Yeah, we’re not working tomorrow, are we?”

Grinning sheepishly, he shrugs. “I can get us a ton of coffee—“

“Nope, it’s decided, shop’s closed tomorrow.”

Steve shakes his head, grin still hanging around. He’s got a feeling it could last a long time.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah? How?”

“I… didn’t think that far yet, shut up.”

“Okay, sleepyhead, c’mon,” Hand lacing in his, she leads him to her bedroom, where he lets himself flop onto her mattress to finally rest. He sinks back into the pillows, legs hanging over the side as his eyes slip shut with a dazed sigh.

Frankie carefully removes his glasses to set on the nightstand, giggling, “Steve, you’re still— we’re not cuddling if you wear your damn jeans in my bed.”

Eyes still shut, Steve’s the one smirking now. “If you wanted to see me naked you could just ask, ‘Key.”

“You’re such a little shit.”

A weak retort dies on Steve’s tongue as he feels the laces of his sneakers come loose, shoes sliding off his feet. Frankie stands up, hands on her hips as he pushes himself to sit up. The tiny act of affection makes his heart swell.

“M’not taking your pants off,” She giggles, eyes falling down his figure. “Though, it’s tempting.”

Steve grumbles under his breath, unbuttoning his jeans and kicking them off, falling back onto the bed as he’s left in his boxers. His eyes begin to close again, until his legs are pushed apart; Frankie stands between them, watching a blush creep across his face with a smirk. Her hands take their time as they slide up his thighs, crawling onto the bed, ending up directly over him.

“Oh— wait, hey, what—“

Steve’s sure as hell wide awake now.

“H- hey,” He shudders nervously, hand wandering up to her face. Through her smile, she bites her lip, leaning down towards him.

“Hi,” She stifles a bout of giggles, noses barely touching, lips hovering over his. His breath hitches, eyelids growing hooded. “Steve, can I tell you something?”

He’s way too eager to respond, nodding quickly, bumping his nose against hers. The two groan from the gentle collision, dissolving into laughter while he murmurs a ‘sorry’.

“Y’can tell me anything,” He’s trying his hardest to keep his cool, but his wavering voice has to be a dead giveaway. “You know that, ‘Key.”

Frankie’s lips brush against his, and Steve’s too slow to catch her before she leans in closer to his ear, breath tickling along his lobe.

“You’re in my spot, babe.”

She sits up, sleepy giggles escaping her as she rolls off of him. Steve exhales with an annoyed look, narrowing his stare at her as he slides over.

“Just when I thought you were trouble already,” He scoffs, slipping under the covers; his arms wind around her waist, pulling her into his embrace.

“M’your favorite troublemaker though, huh?” Frankie nuzzles her head into the crook of his neck, limbs intertwining with his own.

“I don’t know… you got three other knuckleheads to compete with.”

She scoffs, “You’re tough to please.”

“Oh, far from it, embarrassingly enough.”

Steve kisses the top of her head, hand slipping under the sweatshirt’s hood to softly graze his fingers along her buzzed head. She shivers under his touch.

“Sorry—“

She grabs his hand, holding it in place. “Don’t, it feels nice.” A ghost of a kiss lingers on his neck, coaxing a whimper out of him. She leaves another imprint of her lips behind, and another, taking her time as she works her way up his neck. She pauses at his jawline, murmuring against his skin, “This okay?”

“Mhm,” One hand slides to the back of her head, cradling it gently as the other wanders to the small of her back, tracing mindless patterns along her spine. Her trail of feather-light kisses continue along his jaw, to his chin, up to his lips. Eyes locking with his, she nudges her nose against his, lips barely touching again as he parts them with bated breath.

“I like you, Steve.”

A lopsided grin pulls along his worn features.

“I like you too, Frankie.”

She shakes her head, “No, I- I really like you. Like… a lot.”

Steve steals a quick kiss, admiring the way her cheeks heat up, blush running strong under her butterfly rash. Somehow, their connection feels the same, and yet completely new all at once. Uncharted territory with the one he trusts his heart with the most.

“And I like you a—“

“No.”

“No?”

Frankie sighs shakily, “M’so bad with words.” She kisses him, lips lingering a little longer than he did prior. “And I’m—“ Another kiss. “I’m so… I’m really scared to say it.” She doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t give him the chance to ask what she means when she kisses him again; she moves with grace at first, Steve following her lead. They move together so fluidly, but a renewed desire takes over, slipping her tongue into his mouth as her hands grip his shirt, balling the fabric into her fists.

Steve can feel her piercing against his tongue, immediately growing dizzy from the heightened sensation that damned little piece of metal brings. The strong hand on her back circles to her hip, fingers kneading the plush curve along her body. This time, Frankie’s the one to make a needy noise, whining into the kiss. He pulls away, despite his body screaming at him to mold into hers again.

“You can say it,” Steve murmurs against her lips, half in a whisper. Her arms slink around his shoulders, fingers toying with the soft tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. “S’okay, I’m scared too.”

She winds a lock of hair around her fingers, then another, tugging ever so slightly, enough to make him shiver.

“Y’feel the same?”

Steve nods slowly, lips melding into Frankie’s, with a hum of a “mhm” vibrating into her. Reluctantly, he moves back again, gravelly offering, “Fuck yeah I do.” It earns a giggle from her, but it’s short lived.

“Steve, m’not kidding, I- I’m scared to say it, but I wanna.” She trembles against him, but keeps some kind of composure. “W- what if you leave and—“

Desperately, he shakes his head, antsy to hear what she wants to tell him. “‘Key, just say it, pl—“

It’s a raspy, rushed mess, but Steve still hears it, loud and clear:

“I love you.”

A silence falls between the two, where the only sounds are their shallow breaths and wildly beating hearts.

“‘Atta girl,” Steve’s teasing response brings a grin along Frankie’s face as she blushes deeply, before kissing her again, taking his time to memorize every line and curve of her lips. But he abruptly stops, “Shit, wait, I- I love you too, sorry, I’m— it’s just— you’re distracting me, Francesca.”

Between kisses, she laughs, then murmurs, “Can’t say that shit t’me, told you that.” He trails away from her mouth, kissing softly along her face, making his way to her neck. Gasping, she pulls at his hair, pausing him as he groans lowly. “Quit using my full name too, I like how it sounds coming from you.” He laughs as she forces a frown. “We should be sleeping, Steve.”

“What, you don’t wanna make out all night?” He’s teasing, but checks in, “We can stop. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m more than comfortable, trust me. But don’t— uh— only this, okay? For now?”

Steve kisses back up her neck, taking in the view of her kiss-swollen lips, the dark circles under her eyes, and the lazy grin across her face. Now that they stopped, fatigue is catching up to her quickly, and it’s written all over her features.

Her “I love you” echoes in his head over and over.

Nodding, Steve gently cradles his hand against her face— a signature move the two now share, one that wouldn’t feel right with anyone else.

“For as long as you want or need,” He’s exhausted, can feel his eyelids growing heavier by the second as the two calm down; sleep’s within his reach, and judging by the tired look she wears, she’ll doze off with ease soon, too. “I meant it when I said I wasn’t going anywhere. I love you, ‘Key.”

Before Steve can drift off, he remembers the last time the two were in her bed, and what a difference there was between the emotions then, and now, but Frankie’s voice yanks him out of the thoughtful daze.

“Hey, babe? You free tomorrow?” She mumbles, smirking with eyes closed, lazily wiggling her eyebrows in his direction. “Y’wanna make out?”

He bursts into laughter, embrace tugging her close as she gives a giggle that settles with ease as she falls asleep.

“Fuck yeah I do.”

#steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x fem!oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #fic: accident prone #my fics

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